Nine hours of sleep. Wow. After ten hours of sleep the night before.

A guy could get used to this.

Now, if I could only figure out how to do it during normal hours.

Me and SassyGirl acting like idiots Saturday night.

There were many more pictures taken. The others she must have deemed too hideous to send me.

This whole death thing. It's a metaphor.

Well, except for that entry I made on the 26th about dying. That wasn't a metaphor, it was a hypothetical situation.

I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to physically die anytime soon. As sure as any of us can be, anyway, which isn't very.

All this recent death talk is not about my body physically dying. It's about this life that I'm living coming to an end.

There is a difference.

I've written that I died when I found out that she'd moved away. That was the same thing, the same concept. I lived to be near her, but it was no longer an option. I kept breathing during that time, I just stopped wanting to breathe and I had a tough time coming up with a good reason to keep doing it.

Well, the reason that I came up with was an understandable one I suppose. A stupid one, to be sure, but it kept me going for a long time.

That reason was hope.

Though I spent most of my time denying its existence, just as I'd spent most of my time denying the feelings that came before it, hope did exist for me. A very small spark of hope it was, but when held up against the blackness that I found myself in, that small spark was all that I needed to keep going. To keep breathing. Because, you never know.

Well, now that hope is in its death throes, and when it's gone, so will this life that I've been living. The hole in my heart has a specific size and shape, and that which would have filled that hole is about to change both.

That was me, trying to be funny. Three people will get the joke.

Once this hope dies, I'll have to come up with another reason to breathe.

I have no idea what that reason might be. For now, it's simple denial that's keeping me alive. But that won't last forever.

I'm not stupid, you know. I recognize what this means. At least my brain does. It's only a matter of time before my heart realizes it. Once that happens, I'll die again.

Metaphorically, anyway.

No turning back now.

I've booked my St. Louis hotel room, and I've bought myself a ticket for the Cardinals' Friday night game against the Reds.

Yay!

I guess.

So I've been pulling hairs out of my mouth since Sunday morning.

Gross, I know, but also strange because I haven't the slightest idea where it's all coming from.

Maybe some supermodel is sneaking into my bedroom and having her way with me, or maybe the cat hair in my house has developed sentience and is trying to kill me.

---

I slept for 10 hours Sunday evening. Now I probably won't sleep again until Wednesday or so, because I've already used up half my weekly sleep quota.

It would be nice if sleep worked that way. I'd get all of my sleep out of the way on Monday and Tuesday then I'd stay awake for the rest of the week. Somebody should look into why we can't do this.

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I've been feeling a lot lately like this journal needs to come to an end. I nearly deleted it Sunday morning but if I'd done it then it would have been out of anger and that's not a very good reason to do anything.

I really don't like being angry at people that have never been anything but nice to me.

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It looks like I'll be going to St. Louis for my Easter trip this year. That's assuming that I remember to get the oil changed in my truck this coming weekend.

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I'm pretty sure that I'm in denial. There is just no way that I can be okay with this. I need to tie a string around my finger or something to remind me that I'll probably die at any moment.

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Polly's Freeze reopened this past Thursday, but I haven't made it over there yet. Hopefully this weekend I'll go there for lunch.

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I was thinking about how, at the end of Titanic, that chick kept saying "Come back!" over and over and over to get the lifeboats to return. That was so sad. Part of me still hopes for rescue. That's even sadder because I don't think it's going to happen for me.

---

I'm craving White Castles right now. I think I'll go. They have breakfast thingies too. Maybe I'll get some of those.

Last night was SassyGirl's party. Of course I went.

I only knew a handful of the people there, but I think that's part of the appeal of the thing. I don't know them, and they don't know me. It usually takes a while for people to figure out how fucked up I am.

Here are some people I didn't know. The King Kong Bundy guy I have seen at Rich O's before though.

SassyBoy, TacoBell, and SassyGirl hamming it up for the camera. SassyBoy got fucked up.

SassyGirl had a keg of some NABC beer (I think it was the Bob's Old 15B Porter), but I took my own stuff. I had three bottles of Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (799) and a bottle of Baltika 6 (324) plus a sip or two of Panil Barrique (10), which I'd brought for SassyGirl.

It was fun I suppose, but (surprise!) I'm not much of a party person. For me the fun part is watching everybody act like fools. I also spent a lot of time trying to convince SassyGirl's cat that I wasn't going to torture and kill and eat it.

I got bored and left at about 12:30.

Then, as is usual, I got sad on the drive home because I couldn't help but think about how the last time I was ever happy was driving home from a party at SassyGirl's house back in 2004, with LaptopGirl beside me I think I need to find a different route to take home the next time.

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Come back!

Please.

Friday morning I emailed RockGirl that I was going to let fear keep me from going to Rich O's on Friday night. Not my proudest moment, but there it was anyway.

Friday afternoon I emailed HatGirl that I was feeling exposed, and that I wouldn't be at Rich O's on Friday night.

On Friday night, I went to Rich O's.

I arrived quite late - after 10:00 - because I really had planned on just staying home. But my cat Buddy got into a fight with the blinds in the guest room where I was sleeping and that woke my ass up.

When I pulled in behind the place to park there was a storm rolling in, so instead of going around front I just snuck in the back door. None of the bartenders even saw me. I'm sure that some Hollywood people will be calling me about becoming the next James Bond.

Let's see. the place was about half full. A bunch of strangers were in the living room area, and a bunch more were in the red room. ExoticGirl and a couple more chicks were sitting at the bar...

I've had a problem for the past several weeks. I seem to be unable to recognize DooRagGirl with her new haircut. She was sitting right there next to ExoticGirl and I didn't even recognize her until she turned around and even then she had to pretty much smack me in the head.

I think she should start wearing a long wig to Rich O's. She can cut a couple of inches off the wig every week. That way it will be a gradual enough change that I may be able to keep up. I'm sure that this wouldn't be too much trouble for her.

Also sitting next to DooRagGirl was her sister OddlyFamiliarGirl who I guess thinks that I'm mad at her because I didn't talk to her last week. It wasn't that at all, I was pissed at the person she was sitting with, not at her. But whatever, OddlyFamiliarGirl didn't even turn around.

Anyway, one of the PBDs already had taken the spot at the end of the bar, so instead of standing there and talking with the ladies I moved over and sat at the island for a while.

My first beer was one of these:

Bell's Rye Stout (10)

(draft) I found this to be a basic stout with a slight chocolate flavor and a touch of rye bitterness at the finish. I liked it a lot, and I will probably go try to find it in bottles.

JW Lees Manchester Star Porter (10)

(draft) Smelled like snot, but that might have been because I was developing a cold. Served too warm for my tastes, and I almost never say that. A very creamy and smooth chocolatey porter. It contains more alcohol than I'd have guessed. I'd like to try this again once they get the cooler fixed.

While at the bar, I had myself a couple Guinnii (1237) and talked with the bartenders and the PBD that had been there all along. Then I came home a little after 12:00.

Oh, shit! I almost forgot again. The other day I went to Rich O's after work and tried one of these:

Upland Castle Rock Irish Red Ale (20)

(draft) My first impression was that this beer was simply a relabeled Smithwick's. After a bit, however, I did begin to notice a slight hint of bitterness. More like a hint of a hint actually. Smithwick's is better.

I almost never do that. Write an entry, then post it, then wake up four hours later and delete the thing.

I almost never do it.

So, if you know what I'm talking about, you should consider yourself lucky I suppose.