I had this brilliant idea. What made it brilliant was its utter simplicity.

I'd sit at this computer, and I'd write an entry.

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Ta-da!

Wait, does this even count as an entry? Have I written anything, really?

Not yet, I don't think. Needs more cowbell.

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I took the day off work today, and I didn't do shit except go to lunch and talk to BikerGirl for about thirty seconds. And drink a Newcastle (7745).

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I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the emotional equivalent of nesting. Just cleaning house, getting everything nice and ready for what's coming. Or for what I hope is coming. As if I'm capable of telling the difference. Or of admitting to myself that there is a difference.

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I'm in a really good mood now. I blame this particular good mood on the yummy Allagash Grand Cru (89) that I've been drinking since I came home. Before I came home, I had a couple pints of NABC Flat Tyre (63), but Rich O's was such a sausagefest that I left before 8:30.

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I think that I want to be a part of something special. No, wait. I am part of something special already. What I want is to share something special with somebody special.

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I've read this Blink! book a couple of times recently. If you ignore the thinly-veiled racism of the author, it's a pretty interesting book. It basically says that we should all trust our instincts. My instincts tell me two things, right now. I'm ignoring or at least discounting one, and I'm practically betting my life on the other.

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I had another paragraph up there a few seconds ago, but I deleted it. They weren't very nice, the things that I wrote.

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I'm thinking that certain people could use some lessons in empathy. I mean, who are certain people to judge if someone is hurting enough, or feeling pain the right way? To fail to recognize sorrow doesn't mean that it's not there. Everyone deals with pain in their own way, and sometimes denial is the only tolerable option.

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There. I hope that's enough cowbell, because I'm kinda tired of writing.

Made a quick stop at Rich O's after work. Not really worthy of an entry except for this new NABC beer that I tried:

New Albanian Flat Tyre

(draft) Clear dark copper in color. Decent head that faded quickly. Aroma of molasses and hops, and flavor more of the same. The finish was much more smooth than the flavor indicated. I liked this beer a lot. Easily one of my favorites from NABC.

Anyway, as long as I'm typing an entry anyway...

I sat at the bar because there were weirdoes in the living room area. I had a small sample of the beer reviewed above, then a full pint. FirstGirl came and joined me for a bit. I talked to her about possible ways to make a necklace out of my rock. She's some kind of professional jeweler or something. She had some interesting ideas, and she promised to bring some demos to show me later.

Other than that, I pretty much just sat and drank my beer. TremensGirl's BFF was one of the weirdoes in the living room area, and I did my best to tune him out. Didn't have much luck though, so I bailed as soon as my glass was empty.

I never said this would be an exciting entry.

Past and present:

Soon:

See? No wonder I'm freaking out.

This will change everything.

I like brunettes with glasses. I might have mentioned that here, from time to time. I also like small blondes. And I like athletic brunettes, but I prefer soft girls even more. I generally like girls with short hair more than long-haired girls. I generally like straight hair more than curly hair. It varies. I have wide-ranging tastes.

But what's my favorite kind of girl?

Easy.

The random hot girl.

The exotic beauty driving the car in the next lane, singling along to her radio. The smoldering housewife, in front of me at the supermarket. The slinky businesswoman, crossing the street as I sit at a red light. The half-dressed girl that asked me for a cigarette at the Dallas airport. The girl at work who has no idea how pretty she really is. The girl at the bar, sipping her foo-foo concoction. The policewoman standing on the corner.

All beautiful.

All unexpected.

All random.

Out of my life before they're even in my life. Offering nothing but surprising beauty, and expecting nothing in return.

Harmlessness through anonymity.

They're my favorites, because they never get the chance to hurt me.

Most of the time, I think being a mind reader would be a pain. Because I know that there are thoughts in my own head which aren't suitable for public consumption. Unspoken insults, deviant sexual fantasies, sarcasm run amok, more deviant sexual fantasies. And that's just in the time it took me to write that sentence. So it logically follows that the thoughts and feelings of others must be the same way. Private, and better left private.

I'm pretty sure that, were I a mind reader, I'd end up hating everyone on Earth before too much time had passed. Or maybe I'd eventually get used to it and be able to accept the things I was sensing as perfectly normal human thoughts and emotions. Maybe I'd stop being repulsed and disgusted. Maybe, like a blind man suddenly given sight, I'd be overwhelmed at first, but after a while I'd be able to deal with it. The question would be whether I'd lose all capacity for compassion before I got used to it. Not worth the risk, I don't think. At least, that's what I usually think. Most of the time.

There are other times, however, when I'd love to be a mind reader for a little while. Times like right now.

There is a head that I'm dying to peek into. But not to pry. Not to rummage through her mind just to see what cool things I can find. Nib-nosing, my grandmother used to call it when I'd snoop through her chifforobe. Nope, I'd have specific questions that I'd to find the answer to.

Am I needed, right now?

Am I wanted, right now?

These are important questions, always. But perhaps now more than ever. This person, this girl who occupies my thoughts these days, she's hurting. Her life is in a turmoil of sorts. And I want to help. I need to help. I truly do. It's just that I don't know how to help. By keeping my distance? By minding my own business? Those are the things that I've been doing, the things that I've almost always done before.

Things that have been done to me, during the troubled times of my own past, mostly because that's the way I wanted it.

But she, this girl, she is not like me. I have no reason to suspect that keeping my distance is the right thing to do. I also, unfortunately for me, have no reason to suspect that I should intervene, offer an ear or a shoulder or an arm or a hand or a heart. I could end up doing more harm than good. Irreparable harm, perhaps. Hence, my dilemma. My questions.

People hurt. I get that. It hurts to be alive, way more often than it should. And, sometimes, that pain must be suffered privately. But not all the time. Not every time.

Is this time, is this time one of the former, or the latter? And, if the latter, am I a person, the person, who can help to ease her pain?

Yeah, I think that, right now, being able to read minds would be pretty cool.

I can't help but think that I'm missing out on something here. Like I'm cheating myself. Counting chickens before they hatch, and all that. I'm ignoring the present and the immediate future, and I'm absolutely ignoring the past. I seem to exist in some far-off future, six months or six years or sixty years from now. And I remember my past, I remember this particular period of my life, and I wish that I'd paid more attention to it.

I think it's just that my mind cannot fully grasp what's about to happen. Like it's too much to take in all at once. Too important to accept at any rational level. Or maybe at all. So I don't even try. Instead, I get caught up in the consequences and the probabilities and the possibilities.

For the next several weeks, some people might think that I'm trying to be funny. I've done it before, after all. Not this time, though. This time, my silence will be deadly serious.

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I don't want to sleep tonight. I want to live. I want to experience and appreciate every second of this. That would give me one less regret for when/if I really reach that far off future.

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Yesterday was September 24th. I didn't even realize it until it was more than halfway over.

These damn chickens are really trying my patience, such as it is.

With a bok ba-gok here, and a bok ba-gok there. Here a bok, there a ba-gok. Everywhere a bok ba-gok.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

They're so freaking fucking loud!

But I'm okay. Really.

Chickens I can handle. Or, at the very least, I can let my cats handle them for me. If it comes to that. They'd love it.

Muhaha.

And besides, these chickens are about a gazillion times better than that damn fucking gorilla ever was.

I have a doghouse, out behind my detached garage. It came with the house. I haven't had a dog in a million years; certainly not since I bought this place. But that doghouse is out of the way. So I've just left it there. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.

I was outside messing around today, and I took a good look at that doghouse. It's bigger than I'd remembered. And in a lot better shape. It's actually useable as long as you're a dog.

The last time I thought about that doghouse was back in July. I took NotHideousGirl to a pet store so she could buy a doghouse. I told her that I had one behind my garage, but I was pretty sure that it was too small for even her medium-sized dog. And besides, it must be a really crappy doghouse after sitting there behind my garage for all these years.

See? Not that bad at all.

I don't remember what NotHideousGirl paid for the doghouse she ended up buying, but it was certainly more than free would have been. So now I figure I screwed her out of whatever she spent, because I was too lazy to walk behind my garage until today.

I've suddenly found myself up to my neck in chickens. I need to take some time to figure out what to do about them. If I should do anything about them.

Feathers are everywhere.

Good thing I'm not allergic.

You guys are all great, though.

For now, I rest my case.

Girls- look at your top 3 boys listed on your Myspace

Guys - look at your top 3 girls listed on your Myspace

- Don't change them!!

- Enter their names in order

- Be honest

- Repost this so your friends can do it too

1. Misty
2. Kat
3. Amanda

4. Are you older than number 1?
Bwahahaha!

2. Are you older than number 2?
Bwahahaha!

3. How did you meet number 1?
One night I was sitting at the bar at Rich O's, and she sat next to me. She kept looking at my beer. At the time, I thought, "Why is this weird girl looking at my beer?"

As it turned, out, she was deciding if I was worthy of getting to know or not. I'm glad it turned out the way it did.

4. If you were crying would number 1 cheer you up?
I think she'd laugh at me, and that would cheer me up.

5. Where is Number 3?
A gazillion miles away.

6. Have you hugged any of them?
I've hugged them all, with varying intensity.

7. Who have you known the longest?
Hard to say. I'm pretty sure that I met Kat first, but then I got to know Amanda and Misty next, before I got to know Kat.

8. Who have you know the shortest?
Again, hard to say. Probably Kat.

10. Who's the most awkward to be around?
Sometimes Misty is in a strange mood that makes it awkward. So I'll say her. The real answer is not Misty, though.

11. Are you taller than number 3?
Yes, and I'm glad you didn't ask about number 2.

12. Who's most likely to repost this?
Probably Kat. In fact, I think she already has.

13. Is any of the top 3 family?
Nope.

14. Do you trust them all?
This question almost made me not want to post this. I'm just going to answer that I don't fully trust them all, and I'll thank you to leave it at that.

15. Have you ever shared a bed with any of the top 3?
I have not.

17. Who lives the closest to you?
I don't know where Misty lives, so I'll say Kat.

18. Who do you talk to the most?
Kat.

19. Who knows the most about you?
Kat.

20. Who makes fun of you the most?
I have a feeling that it's a tie between Kat and Amanda.

21. Do you argue with number 2?
I rarely argue with anyone, so no.

22. Does number 1 have the same B-day as you?
I seriously doubt it. Oh, wait, I know that she doesn't. Her's is in May and mine's in February. This was a dumb question.

23. Would you break the law for number 2?
I have probably done so already.