It's been a really long time, and I'm sure I've forgotten a lot, but I once read the book Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard.

What I remember most about the book, aside from the ubiquitous anti-abortion theme, was the idea that whatever was bothering you could basically be erased, or at least made impotent, by replaying it over and over in your head.

A parent dies suddenly? Relive the moment you found out - sights, smells, sounds, everything you can come up with - and keep doing it until the shock that was born when it happened has been replaced by something else. Something less intense.

I'm not talking about the kind of shock that happens when you're startled or surprised. The kind where you exclaim, "Oh! My goodness!" and your heart maybe beats a little faster for a while. I'm talking about the shock to your soul that happens when something so bad happens that your mind just won't accept it all at once. It gets shoved down deep, and sometimes it stays there for years. Nagging at you. Whispering at you.

Now I don't agree with a lot of what I remember from that book, but this part I do agree with: The saying is Time heals all wounds but I think what really happens is that we relive and obsess over the bad events, even if we do it subconsciously - and eventually we've relived them so often that our mind is able to accept them.

The worst thing that ever happened to me, at least up to the time I read the book, was the death of my first real girlfriend. It was both sudden and drawn-out at the same time. One night, she swallowed a bunch of pills and then she took three months to die.

It was several years later, just after my divorce, when I read the book, and I found myself trying some of the exercises described in it. What I found, or at least what I think I found, was that what was killing me inside wasn't losing my wife and my stepson, it was losing Jackie all those years earlier. All of the guilt and uselessness I'd felt through all those hospital visits - they were still with me. Dragging me down and holding me back. I was unable to work harder at my marriage because I already felt like a failure.

I was able, finally, to free myself of those demons. Not by trying to control them and keep them underground, but by giving them free reign, by letting those memories replay in my head and my heart over and over until they had lost the ability to affect me.

This was a lesson I learned in my twenties that I really wish I'd have remembered into my thirties. It really would have been handy.

I feel like I'm beginning to ramble here, so I'll go ahead and get to the point I wanted to make.

I believe that the same thing works for stuff that hasn't happened yet.

As I sit here typing this, in early March 2005, I'm a little worried about the future.

In fact, there are two scenarios that I've found myself worrying about:

If you thought I was going to list them here you were wrong.

Either of these events, were they to occur, would simply devastate me. Luckily they're mutually-exclusive, so I don't have to worry about them both happening at the same time, but I still find myself dreading their possibility. I find myself imagining what I'd say, what I'd do, if things went completely to shit.

What's the worst that could happen?

That's what I imagine. The worst. That's what runs through my head whenever I relax too much. Whenever I catch myself imagining the good that's when the bad possibilities rush through my mind and snap me out of my contentedness.

Now, I've never really been much of a worrier. For a long time I was, after all, invincible. Why would I waste time worrying about that which would simply bounce off my impenetrable shield?

Lately, however, my safety is not assured. I have vulnerabilities. I have my own Kryptonite, and I do find myself worrying about it. Worrying about having my own sanity and my own happiness so out of my control. It's like I'm jumping out of a plane, and I'm not sure I trust the person who packed my parachute.

I think it's getting better, though. And that's the point I wanted to make with this rambling excuse for writing.

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

My imagining of these horrible scenarios, as annoying as it is, is actually preparing my mind for their occurance. I know this because there used to be three things that I worried about, but one of them has been castrated. It could happen right now and I'd be able to accept it. I wouldn't fucking like it very much, but it wouldn't be the worst that could happen. I ran it though my head so many times that I actually got a little bored with it.

One down, two to go.

At some point, maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now, the time will come when either (a) one of my worst fears will actually come true, or (b) the danger will pass. If one of my dreaded imaginings comes to pass I hope I'll be ready.

I think I will be. If the worst happens, I may not land gracefully, but I think I can avoid a complete crash.

And if the worst doesn't happen? If something good actually comes from all this?

I don't know how I'd prepare for that. Or if it's even possible.

Today I scheduled myself a couple of trips for work-related conferences.

The first one is in Las Vegas in May, and I'm going to take a couple of days of vacation so I can finally visit the Grand Canyon.

The second trip, in June, is in Orlando. That will be cool because I've never been to Florida. I wish Orlando was closer to water though.

I think that the independent auditing firms are purposely hiring attractive people just to throw us off guard while they interrogate us about our security practices.

Not that I'm complaining.

Just a couple of small changes to the site that I want to make public. Very boring stuff.

First of all, I've recently been slammed by some searchbots that are retrieving, then ignoring, my robots.txt file. This file specifically states files and folders that I don't want indexed by 'bots. I make these areas off-limts for bandwidth reasons, or for simple site functionality purposes.

For example, I don't want 'bots bumping up any 'blog entries - those are for actual people who like the entries.

I also don't want 'bots searching the raw 'blog files themselves, and I don't want them downloading all of my movies files.

Well I've become sick of 'bots ignoring these rules, so I've decided to block them completely. This was done with an easy addition to my .htaccess file:

As I see new 'bots ignoring my simple robots.txt file I'll block their asses as well.

(Just after I posted this entry I got slammed by another asshole, so his address is now blocked as well.)

Another thing that's been bugging me lately is that I've been getting what's called referer spam. This is when assholes modify their browser to change where they appear to be coming from. Many people, for privacy reasons, will simply change this value to a blank or something. But these assholes are replacing the real referer value with a URL to a site they're hawking.

My .htaccess file can deal with these people as well:

In the example of above I send anyone with the string viagra in their referer to a site that I'm hoping will get them fired if they hit it at work.

On a completely unrelated note, I've changed my site search function to just go to Google. My own home-made search script wasn't working correctly and I just haven't found the time to debug it. This change was for the site search only - the 'blog search is still home-grown.

And finally, I'm beginning to contemplate another site redesign. If I actually decide to do this then barenada.com V5.00 will feature a cleaner design and will make even more use of CSS.

Tuesday after work I was waiting for my calzone to cook and had a Goose Island Honker's Ale. I really liked it, and it was definitely a good beer to have on an empty stomach. Here's my ratebeer.com review:

(draft) A great beer for starting out an evening, yet interesting enough to make an entire session out of it. Smooth and malty. The little bite at the finish makes it tastes like it should have a higher ABV.

I also had the priviledge of sampling a glass of NABC's new Noble Smoker smoked ale. This is I think slated to be the replacement for their Cone Smoker.

I liked this new stuff at least as much as I liked the old stuff. The smoke was much more subdued than I'd been expecting. Ditto for the hoppy bitterness.

Overall a nice beer with a little smoke and pretty well balanced. Reminded me a lot of Spezial Smoked Lager except with a little bit more smoke. I'm looking forward to its official debut as Gravity Head kicks off next weekend.

It looks like I won't be reviewing the men-only performances because the lack of boobage keeps me from even watching.

Anyway, here's what I thought of tonight's ladies.

Aloha: Stupid stupid name. Took off 10 points for the stupid name, and another 5 for the stupid flower. Sang okay though. (50 points)

Lindsey: Hot as hell. Sang some stupid rockabilly country song. She should sing songs that play up her hotness rather then detract from it. (70 points)

Jessica: Hauntingly good peformance. Wow. (85 points)

Mikalah: I would have loved this performance more in the 1940s. Pretty good though. (80 points)

Celena: OMG OMG OMG She's hot. Did a mediocre performance of a boring song. (70 points)

Nadia: About a zillionth as pretty and talented as she seems to think. Was going to score 60 but took off extra points for those horrible final 10 seconds. (55 points)

Amanda: Spankably hot. Pretty good performance. (76 points)

Jamay: I still really like her voice. Not as nervous this week but still seemed forced. (68 points)

Carrie: Hot. Sounded just like last week. Good but Common. (72 points)

Vonzell: I hate that artifically low voice some of the women do because they think it's sexy. Also took off 10 penalty points for having a stupid name. (59 points)

Overall, I suppose that Carrie has been the most consistent, but I think she's actually been a little too consistent. The performances just blend together.

It's time for Aloha and either Janay or Vonzell to leave my TV now.

Man, that Celena is hot.

The dawn light snakes its way into his refuge, and he opens his eyes to the new day that he thought he'd never see. It is gone, but the deep gashes covering his body tell him that this was no dream - no terrible nightmare from which he has mercifully awakened. Cautiously, carefully, he picks himself up off the ground, pries himself loose from the sticky grasp of his own coagulating blood. The pain is nearly overwhelming, but he does not cry out. He emerges from his hiding place and warily surveys his surroundings.

He is alone, and, to his astonishment, he is no longer afraid.

I feel that a quick reminder is needed.

Tonight my phone has basically rung off the hook.

Some guy I never heard of called a million times, some payphone in Indiana called once, some cell phone in Columbus Ohio just called.

Here's the thing: If I don't know who you are I am not going to answer.

Never.

Ever.

If you know my cell phone number call that one - I have to answer it 'cause it might be work.

If you know my e-mail (hint: daveATbarePANTSnadaDOTcom - remove PANTS first, then do the obvious) then use that.

Hell, I've even put a message form on this website that you can use to contact me. Just remember that it's completely anonymous unless you tell me who you are.

If, however, you really get a kick out of wasting your time, then by all means just keep calling my home number.

Let it ring until Hell freezes over.

I still won't answer it.

I just love my caller-id.

Booked my Easter trip to Portland Maine this morning.

It should be fun, and it will definitely be something new.

I'd like to have time to drive to the Eastern most point in Maine, but that looks like about a 10 hour round trip so I'll probably pass and just make the 6 hour round trip to Montpelier Vermont and back.

Or, I may just hang around Portland if I find enough that interests me on Friday. I'll arrive at around 1:00 PM so I'll be able to get a slight feel for the place before heading to The Great Lost Bear on Friday night.

I'm optimistic that I'll be able to enjoy this trip without feeling the strong need for company. Actually, NotGeorge has expressed an interest in going. We'll see. All I can guarantee is that MixedSignalGirl will not be accompanying me. I've managed to defuse that particular bomb.

The other day I read or heard something that struck a chord in me.

We desperately cling to that which defines us.

I got to thinking, what defines me?

What do I see when I look into the mirror, into my own eyes? Who is it that looks back at me?

I just don't know.

I see nothing but fog and haze where a person once stood. I am in flux. I am shattered pieces of a soul waiting for reassembly. I am a ghost.

What form I'll eventually take, I can't say. What will define me in the coming months?

Will I find something new to cling to, as I clung to my longing and my sadness in the Fall?

Will anything ever come close to affecting me as strongly again?

Because I've finally seen the truth about myself, I can look back at those weeks without fear. I'm more than a little ashamed of what happened to me, and more than a little sorry for feelings I've hurt and concern I've caused, but more than that, I'm amazed at how quickly the person I was evaporated. I'd have never believed that anything could affect me so strongly. Could essentially erase everything I was and turn me into this amorphous thing I see when I look into the mirror.

Those weeks gave definition to my life. Definition that, until then, was obvious and superficial. Husband. Stepfather. Divorced Man. Computer Geek. Pool player. Whoop de fucking doo.

It's no wonder I clung so fiercely to those feelings. They defined me more accurately than any external definition ever had:

Dave
n.
1. Longing
2. Confusion
3. Hope
4. Desperation
5. Paranoia

And you know, all of that was really just the catalyst for the changes that took place inside me. If it hadn't happened then, it would almost certainly have happened some other time. I had gone stale. I was dying for change. All of my preconceived notions about who I was and what I wanted out of life - they were already obsolete way before it happened. All she did was provide the push I needed to step out of my old, comfortable shell and look for something better.

Or at least something different.

What kind of person will I be when my soul has been repaired? Probably pretty much the same person I've always been, at least on the outside. A little warmer, perhaps. Maybe a tad more open. More willing to take a chance. It's the changes on the inside that I'm excited about. I expect to be a better person. To not only get along with myself, but to actually like, dare I say love myself.

These are just guesses - what I hope I will become once I solidify.

I cannot rush these changes, these repairs. I've certainly tried. At times, I've even managed to fool myself into thinking I'd healed myself.

As John Belushi would often say, "But nooooooooooooooo!"

I'd stopped the bleeding, quelled the pain, but the healing only began then - it didn't end.

I look into the mirror and I search for a sign of what I'll become.