This stupid dingbat at the gas station this morning tried to charge me regular price for my Diet Vanilla Cokes because - get this - she thought that the sale price was only for the bottles on display directly under the sign in front of her cash register.

The fact the the same sign was taped to the door of the cooler unit I got my bottles from meant nothing to her because she couldn't see that sign from where she was standing.

What a stupid bitch.

(I'm in a good mood. I'm not breaking my new rule about depressing entries. Seriously.)

Back seven or eight years ago there was a time when I thought I was sad.

Oh, maybe I actually was sad in the watered-down way I felt emotions back then.

The source of my discomfort was, of course, a woman. She'd wronged or mistreated me in some way and so I got these pseudo-emotions whenever I was around her.

I remember going to my favorite bar each weekend back then, hoping that she wouldn't be there. I was a nervous wreck every time I went up the hill and turned into the parking lot. This continued for several months until I moved away from Seattle.

Then, last Fall when I visited that old bar, I found myself nervous all over again. Even though I hadn't thought of her in years those old pseudo-emotions still managed to work their way back to the surface.

Luckily she was not there and I was able to really enjoy my visit.

For the past several days I've been reminded of those days because every time I round the curve leading into the Rich O's parking lot I find myself scanning that lot for a certain car. A car that I know is a gazillion miles away.

Someday that car will be there. Maybe weeks from now, maybe months from now. Maybe sooner, maybe later. At some point, I keep telling myself, I'll round that curve and see that car and...

and...

And then what?

This is what makes me nervous today. Back in Seattle I didn't want to deal with the sadness I thought I was feeling. These days it's not the threat of sadness that's giving me pause - it's the threat of joy. Of unbelievable relief. Of pure giddiness. Of making a complete ass of myself.

Someday, I'll round that curve, see that car, and probably have a nervous breakdown or something.

These are not watered-down emotions I'm dealing with anymore. No matter how fleeting or unwarranted or ridiculous - they're still completely real and at times they still threaten to overwhelm me. This is the price I've paid for allowing myself to become human again.

Ha ha. I just remembered this dog we had back when I was a kid. That stupid dog. Every day when my sister Dina and I would get off the school bus this dog would come running across the yard, just pissing all over itself it was so happy to see us. It was like a moving piss fountain, a beautiful expression of love that has me grinning ear-to-ear while I sit here twenty five years later thinking about it.

I keep telling myself that she will return someday. That's what keeps me going. The alternative is unthinkable - I will see her again someday.

Every time I round that curve I just know her car won't be there but I still look. Every time a shadow darkens the door inside Rich O's I just know it won't be her but I still look. Every time I hear a woman's voice I just know it's not hers but I still look.

Someday I'll just know she's not back and I'll be wrong and there she'll be.

I wonder, though, if anything short of pissing all over myself will be enough to express what I'll be feeling when that day comes.

I'm nervous because I don't know what I'll do. Probably just try to play it cool, act all nonchalant. Maybe give her a hug and buy her a beer.

I'm sure I'll be pissing on the inside though.

(Writing this entry made me smile.)

Man I'm so ate up.

This evening, fueled I'm sure by the two NABC Tunnel Vision pints I had while waiting for my calzone to arrive, I found myself calling LaptopGirl.

I was stuck in traffic, or at least what passes for traffic in Southern Indiana, and the need to talk to her just overwhelmed me. Just for a couple of seconds, but long enough to scroll to her number in my cell phone's memory and hit talk.

It was very nice to talk to her if for no other reason than the paranoia-easing tone of the conversation.

Beyond that, however, I'm truly happy for how relaxed she sounds on the phone. I'm truly relieved that she didn't simply hang up on me.

I think I just need for her to know that even though she's a zillion miles away there's at least one person back in Indiana that misses her unconditionally. Of course there are undoubtedly several, but none of those people are talking to me anymore. What with everything being my fault and all.

Oops, there's that paranoia again.

Oh yeah - I'm supposed to read this new postcard that she sent to Rich O's, and the thought of that fills me with dread, but I'll read it because she asked me to.

I've decided to pretend that I didn't hear the part about the new job. That just sounds too permanent so I'm going to pretend I didn't hear it, and I won't write about it again.

I'm going to stop writing now because I'm in a good mood and want to stay that way for a while.

One thing that's strange is that I've got this brace on my left wrist but it's my right wrist that feels weird because I had to move my watch there.

I don't know how those damn southpaws do it.

Last year at about this time I sprained my wrist.

Last night, because I'm still so wild in bed, I sprained the damn thing again.

I should get someone to kiss it better.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I have nobody.

Now where's that wrist brace?

Just finished watching The World Is Not Enough and became enthralled by the beautiful Sophie Marceau.

I see on the web that she was also in Braveheart so I guess I know which movie I'll be watching next.

For a while there was A and it was good until B reared its ugly head.

So I decided that I needed to do C for a while, but after I'd resolved that issue in my head, I found that C had been shoved down my throat during my absence.

Then I started wishing that D would happen. Being the paranoid type I'm now convinced that it has happened and I'm all pissed off about it.

Last night I found myself thinking about how cool it would be if E happened, but that train of thought derailed pretty quickly when I realized that F had to follow E and F would most likely suck big green ones.

And I must not forget G which on the surface may be seem like the best idea ever but in reality would probably destroy any chance of A ever happening again.

Saturday I went to a Halloween party at the FirstCouple's house.

My costume? Well I originally planned to go as HipYoungDude from my last Las Vegas trip. I put on the world's loudest shirt and swimtrunks. I put on my sandals and my snazzy shades. I mussed my hair up extra well and let it dry. I looked at myself in the mirror.

It's a funny thing about HipYoungDude - when you take him out of a Las Vegas Summer and plop him into a Southern Indiana Fall he magically transforms into: BeachDork. So my costume was BeachDork and I think I fit that part pretty well.

On the way to the party I stopped to show my outfit to VigilanteGirl. I told her that she should come to the party in a bikini so we could be a somewhat-matched set, but she had to work late. I suppose that's for the best as there were some old (older than me even) people at the party and VigilanteGirl in a bikini would probably have stopped some hearts.

As I expected, I didn't really know many people at the party. I went because I like the FirstCouple and a few of the other people from their circle, but for the most part I didn't know anyone.

To drink I had some Jack's Hard Colas.

It was a pretty tame and relaxing night, soured only by my own inner turmoil. I'd left my cell phone upstairs because when I clipped it to my trunks my trunks kept threatening to come off, so I kept having to run up to see if I'd missed any calls.

I hadn't.

I've got a new rule: No more entries about how torn up I am over this.

I have no right to be this upset, and all of these dark entries are accomplishing nothing worthwhile.

Now we'll just see how long this rule lasts.

taunt
v.
1. To reproach in a mocking, insulting, or contemptuous manner.
2. To drive or incite (a person) by taunting.

On Friday I got to Rich O's a little after 9:00. I was in a fairly decent mood for once, I suppose because I'd played okay pool at The Bank Shot.

There was nobody I knew at Rich O's. I sat at the bar and ordered a Corsendonk Pater. I'd tried one of these last week and vowed to try it again with a clean palate. Here's the review I made at ratebeer.com:

(bottle)I thought this beer smelled and looked fantastic. I'm not really sure what I was expecting tastewise - I suppose a combination of a Belgian and a Brown. What I got was a strange-tasting beer that I can't really say I liked all that much. It just tasted like something was wrong with it, but I couldn't point to any one thing.

Oh yeah, before I'd even sat down at the bar the bartender pointed out these postcards from LaptopGirl leaning against a stack of coasters and asked if I'd seen them. Those damn things sat there mocking me for the rest of the night. I told myself that I wasn't going to look at them and ruin my (rapidly plummeting) mood.

After the Corsendonk I had a bottle of Kwak. I've written about this before. I generally like it but this time there was a very strange perfume smell/taste that I could never quite get a handle on. I don't think I've been turned away from this beer for good but if I ever get another bottle like that again it just might drive me away. One other thing is that the bartender tried to give me an official Kwak glass with the bottle but I was afraid I'd break the expensive-looking thing so I had him give me a regular Belgian glass instead.

For my next beer I asked for something a little lighter but said I'd like to stay with the Belgians. I was given a bottle of Hoegaarden. Here's what I thought of it:

(bottle) Recommended to me because I asked for something with a lighter taste. A cloudy yellow color that looked to me like a cross between a wheat and a lager - neither of which I care for. The taste was actually pretty decent though. The bartender was telling me about all of these different flavor components but I didn't really get any of them. Just a fairly plain, safe beer.

During the entire time I drank these three beers I kept checking behind me to see if anyone I knew had come in. They hadn't. Also, those damn postcards kept taunting me from the other end of the bar. I realized that I was sitting there drinking just to be drinking instead of drinking for the enjoyment of it and that really annoyed me, so I ordered a Mad Bitch to close out the night.

While I was drinking my last beer, ExoticGirl and her boyfriend sat at the bar. To my horror, she picked up the postcards and started reading them aloud. I went to the bathroom, but by the time I got back my resolve had evaporated. I picked up the cursed things and actually even read a couple of words on the first one before I got a grip on myself and put them back out of arms reach.

LaptopGirl did call me at some point after I got home. Because I wasn't at the bar I was useless so it was a very short conversation.

My ever-changing mood shifted from sad to irritated, and I found myself hoping that it would stay that way for a while because I'm tired of being sad.