I had to wait until I wrote this entry. And, of course, in the week that's passed since I thought of it, it's become less funny. You've been warned.

I was at Rich O's the other night - I think it was Wednesday - talking to various regulars and irregulars. In that place, I try to steer clear of the usual topics of politics, religion, music and sports. The first two because those conversations always lead to people revealing their stupidity, and the last two because I neither know nor care about those things.

So that usually means that I either talk about beer, or I talk about women.

Women are weird. If you've never read this blog before, then that might come as a shock to you, but trust me - they're weird.

So let's take a guy. But not a regular guy, one instead who has three particular qualities. He's an asshole, and he plays guitar, and he's unemployed.

The thing about that guy, see, is that I absolutely guarantee that he has a girlfriend.

Those three qualities, taken separately, would seem to be either neutral or even negative qualities. But put those three qualities together, and they form some kind of magical sphere - a triumvirate of attractiveness - for the guy. Women find him irresistible.

Weird, like I said. But you can't prove me wrong, because I'm not wrong. If a guy has all three of those qualities, he's got a girlfriend, or at least getting some steady action.

Now, lacking those three qualities doesn't automatically mean that a guy's going to die alone and unloved, but it might. So, in order to foster my own chances of having someone actually cry at my funeral, I'm taking some steps.

First, I'm really not an asshole, though I can act like one at times. I need to do it more often. Recent events in my life have already given me a shove in that direction, so it's only getting easier.

Second, I've been trying to learn to play guitar. For over a year and a half now. I still suck, but not as much as I once did.

Third, I lost my job last Tuesday.

Yes, that's right. I've been made into a victim of this recession, along with another 250 or so people from my old company. So, for now anyway, I've got the unemployment requirement nailed.

Anyway, I had to wait before I wrote about losing my job. My sisters and my niece were on a trip to Europe, and I didn't want to impact their enjoyment. But now they're back, so they can be miserable right along with me.

It's a surreal feeling, and I'm not sure how to describe it.

Waking up, and realizing that you've just been thrown out of an airplane. Falling because you must, and because it's effortless. You twist your body so that your head will impact first.

Touching a fence, and finding out too late that it's electric, as your hands seize into claws unable to let go. Your fingers ignite and you relish the pain because it's better than nothing.

Blinded, deafened, numbed. All senses overloaded and dead, but no matter. Lesser purposes and all that...

Living for that which no longer exists and wondering if it ever did. Questioning, doubting everything you know and everything you feel and everything you are. Answers elude and evade.

It's a surreal feeling.

Last night, I sent RockGirl this email, with the subject of "Yay!"

And yay and yay and yay! I get to have lunch with HatGirl tomorrow.

It's been 17 billion years since I've seen her. *

I'm so excited!

HatGirl flaked on lunch.

I remember what I said. I said that I'd leave. I said that, if I had no reason left to stay, then I'd leave.

Well, maybe I didn't think that through all the way. I mean, how am I supposed to know when there's no reason to stay? It must be a feeling, because facts are piling on top of me, and I still can't decide.

About every hour, I flip-flop between wanting to leave and wanting to stick it out. I bounce between excitement over the prospect of starting over and dread over the same prospect. There's a line between perseverance and stupidity, and I live on that line, right where it intersects the line between cowardice and acceptance.

Whatever I do, I know what I want it to be for me, and not for anyone else. I want to end up doing what's right for me. Wow, that seems like a selfish thing to want.

It's not really that black and white, of course. It never is. I'm not the only one, even though it sometimes seems that way.

I've been dewrinkling my shirt while I type this stupid entry. My dryer just dinged, so it's time to go. I'm going to this Jack's bar and drinking some Rogue Dead Guy Ale. I like that stuff.

Maybe I'll write something when I get back home. I feel like I might be in a writing mood tonight.

I tried to write something this morning, as I contemplated the day and the weather and the life that I find myself living. I tried to write, I even managed to write a few hundred words. All drivel, of course. What else would there be? I deleted those words.

And now it's fifteen hours or so later, and I'm back at this keyboard, once again searching for words and phrases which might, when strung together in a certain way, serve to illustrate the wonder that is me at this particular time and date.

12:26 AM, April 26, 2009.

You know what thought jumped into my head a little while ago, as I drove back home from an aborted trip to this stupid Jack's bar that was charging a cover for a stupid band that nobody ever heard of?

Go ahead, try to guess.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Wrong.

The thought that crept into my head was one from an old beer commercial.

Great taste. Less filling.

And that started me thinking about emptiness. And that started me thinking about wasted time. And that started me thinking about wasted effort.

I see it all the time, all around me. I see it in myself, when I dare to look in a mirror.

Waste.

If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck - guess what, it's a fucking duck. Call it a cherry pie all you want, but it's still a damn duck.

That's what it is, annoying. After the shock and the denial, I mean.

So I've thought about it, and I've thought about it some more.

I'm not going to say, not just yet.

No need to ruin their good time.

Every now and then something will strike me as being really funny, and I'll just start laughing. Usually I keep my laughter inside, but not always. And it usually happens at the most inappropriate times. Sometimes I just can't help but laugh at the absurdity.

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Every now and then I'll reach out. For answers, or for comfort, or for companionship - it doesn't matter - and I'll end up with a big handful of nothing. One might think that I'd eventually stop doing this, but instead it only strengthens my resolve to try harder next time.

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I had way too much caffeine today. And now I'm wired.

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I've been working on a simple little twitter-like thingy for this site, so I can just use my blackberry to make quick updates. The coding was simple enough, but I'm having a tough time deciding on the output format. Once I get the twitter-like thingy implemented, stupid tidbit entries like this will probably become a thing of the past.

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I wasn't really trying to fix anything, I was only trying to explain myself. It really did need to be said. Even if nobody was really listening, I needed to say it.