I've been having these stupid little fantasies. They're really nothing special, unless you contrast them with reality. And of course I do that, a lot.

So I fantasize about stuff. All the time. I'm doing it right now as I type this sentence.

I think that the thing that really hits me in the proverbial face with the proverbial baseball bat, when I allow my mind to wander like this, is that those things that I fantasize about - I've already experienced them. I've already lived the dream.

And what did I do, back when I had everything?

I wanted more, or I wanted less, or I wanted something else entirely.

I'd completely lost sight of what was really important. I'd completely forgotten what it was like to be a happy person. So much that I didn't recognize happiness even when I was smack in the middle of it. I guess that a part of me thought it was a trick, some cruel joke, some evil scheme designed to lure me out into the open where I'd be vulnerable.

And so now, years later, I fantasize about regaining those things which I have lost. And I wonder if I'll be able to do better the next time, if there indeed is a next time. Can I be less afraid, should an opportunity for bravery miraculously present itself?

There are things that I know, deep down, things that I know should be handled differently. Things that should be said. Truths that should be told. Gestures that should be made. Oaths that should be sworn. I know these things as surely as I know my own name.

I know that I must do things differently, should the opportunity arise.

I know this.

So I wonder, why am I still so afraid? And what is it, exactly, that I fear?

Even though I make statements to the contrary all the time, I'm really not stupid, you know.

What I am, and there's a big difference, what I am is ignorant.

About a lot of things, and especially about a lot of people.

But, because I'm not stupid, I'm perfectly capable of learning from past mistakes and misjudgments. If I feel like it, and if it's not too late.

Those are pretty tough things to do sometimes. To recognize a wasted effort for what it was. To accept that some deeds cannot be excused, some words cannot be explained away. To come upon an insurmountable obstacle and then to simply turn and walk in another direction. Not because it's the preferable thing to do, but simply because it's either that or stop dead and wait and hope for the impossible.

I forget where I was going with this.

Oh, yeah.

A few months ago, I learned that I was wasting my time. Much more recently, I put that knowledge to use. I was quite happy with my decision, when I made it.

I mean, why squander even more time and effort than I'd already wasted?

Oh, yeah.

Because sometimes, situations change. And sometimes, people change. And sometimes, obstacles crumble.

I'm still sticking with my decision though. I do, after all, have facts to back it up.

Unless those facts are no longer true.

If that turns out to be the case, then I'll have made yet another mistake. But it will have been out of ignorance, not out of stupidity.

Meanwhile, I'm still in the best mood I can ever remember experiencing. It's faded a little bit since Saturday, as should be expected, but it's definitely still there. I think I could grow to like this, smiling all the time. As long as my face doesn't crack and fall off. Because that would be gross.

At first I thought that maybe NotNideousGirl's sleepiness was rubbing off on me. She was pretty tired at lunch, and then after lunch I started feeling exhausted. But her sleepiness couldn't have rubbed off on me because there was no rubbing.

Then I thought that maybe my sleep deprivation from the weekend was just hitting me harder than it usually does. I mean, I was so tired by 5:00 that I declined a dinner invitation from BadPickleGirl. After work I went to Rich O's to pick up the painting I'd bought the other day, then I came home and went to sleep for ten hours.

And now I think that maybe I slept too much, because I feel like shit. I hope it's just from too much sleep, and not because I'm coming down with some new Springtime variant of the Kentuckiana Death Flu.

I have a problem with toes. Whenever I see bare toes, I become very concerned that I'm going to accidentally step on them and crush them. I don't know if this fear is because of some tragic and long-repressed event from my childhood or what. I just know that I have a real fear of stepping on bare toes. Shoes, and even socks - they don't bother me at all. This is especially an issue at Rich O's because (a) a lot of the people there are hippies who wear sandals even in the Winter, and (b) There isn't much space between the coffee table and the sofa and loveseat.

Speaking of Coffee, if CoffeeDude decides that it's once again time to lecture LaptopGirl on the realities and hardships of life and make her cry, well I might have to think of something to make CoffeeDude cry. Like maybe I'll buy a big expensive bag of coffee and then flush it down the toilet or something.

An excited girl is not a problem that must be solved. It's not a plague upon the land which must be eradicated. It's not a boil that must be lanced. It's not a fire that must be drowned. It's a good thing, even a great thing when it makes the girl's eyes light up like LaptopGirl's were lit up last night.

Speaking of drowning, I don't know how much water plants are supposed to get. My sister is on vacation and yesterday and today were my days to feed the cats and water the plants. I was really hoping for rain so I could skip the latter task, but nooooooooo! It's been beautiful all weekend. Damn my luck.

So I probably gave the plants too much water, and they'll die soon. Or I might not have given them enough, and they'll die soon. Either way, I'm sure they're going to die soon. But at least the cats are okay. I can deal with cats. I know cats. Plants, not so much. Or not at all.

Speaking of plants, today while I was driving home from Dina's, my pretty girl radar went off. I looked to my right, and there was BadPickleGirl, browsing around this plant stand in front of a convenience store. So that was cool. I stopped and talked to her for a bit. She's nice.

Speaking of nice, BigWheelGirl was actually nice to me last night. This was noticeable because she usually tries to disintegrate me with the laser beams she shoots out of her eyes. Shit, last night, I actually made her laugh and grin. One of each, I think.

Speaking of laughing and grinning, that's what I did all night long on my swing. I laughed out loud at the universe which had tried so hard to destroy me. I grinned so big and so much that I half-expected an attorney from Lewis Carroll's estate to show up with an injunction.

You can get cramps in your facial muscles. I didn't know that before. It hurts.

Speaking of learning something new, I also learned that it's a lot more fun for me stay awake for 38 hours because I'm happy than to accomplish the same feat because I'm sad. It's still not that much fun though.

My face hurts so much right now.

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

I am so fucking happy right now.

Sufficient words do not exist.

I was asked a couple of stupid questions today. Actually it was one stupid question, and then a follow-up question which seemed just as stupid.

And then, then I couldn't answer either question for the longest time. And I thought that maybe they weren't so stupid after all. And I became afraid.

And for hours now, I've felt this internal struggle, as different factions of my innermost thoughts and feelings fought to answer those two stupid questions.

Well, finally, I can answer the first question, and finally, I can answer the follow-up question.

Yes, and no.

Clear as mud, right?

First...

Absolutely. How could I not? Fuck, it's practically happening anyway.

And then...

No. Not even close. There would still be something missing.

I know exactly what I want.

That which is missing from everyone else. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I know it when I see it. When I feel it. When I hear it and smell it and touch it and taste it.

It's what I want.

And, more than that, it's what I want to want.

---

A friend of mine pointed out to me tonight that a certain person was drop-dead gorgeous.

She doesn't know me very well at all, to still believe that I give a flying fuck what a certain person looks like.

But I digress.

---

I like this feeling of desire and longing. I don't want it to end.

I want to want what I want. I don't necessarily want what I want, but I desperately want to want it.

Decipher that last sentence, and I think you'll understand me pretty well.

NotHideousGirl and I spent an inordinate time, at lunch today, discussing funerals and funeral parlors.

This is probably my fault. I broached the subject by mentioning that I was going to visitation for a former coworker of mine.

I may have started the discussion, but NotHideousGirl is the one who took it and ran with it. So for about an hour we talked about these happy subjects. I tried a couple of times to talk about something else, such as how weird and/or cute her hair was today, but she'd have none of that.

At one point we played the fun little game of counting how many times we'd been to funeral homes. Maybe you can use this the next time you host a kids' birthday party. Here's my list:

My paternal great-grandfather
My maternal grandfather
My mother
My friend Gary from Omaha
My paternal grandfather
My maternal grandmother
My father
My aunt Carol's sister (visitation only)
My aunt Helen (visitation only)
My former coworker Scott (visitation only)

Not too bad of a list, for someone my age. NotHideousGirl used the word "dozens" as she counted. So she won that game.

But there have also been some who've died and I didn't make it to the funeral home:

My girlfriend Jackie
My maternal grandfather
My cousin Chris
My uncle Tommy
My aunt Elaine
My parents' friend Marie

And probably some others, of varying degrees of closeness.

The point I was going to make here is that for the ten people listed first, my last memory of each and every one of them is of them lying in their caskets. And, for the six people in the second list? My last memory of them is when they were alive, talking, laughing, smiling.

I, personally, very much prefer the latter choice.

I don't like the fact that I cannot think of my mother without my brain fast-forwarding to the sight of her dead in the funeral home, with her hair done all weird and wearing makeup and a dress I'd never seen before.

My last memory of my cousin Chris was the two of us sitting in his kitchen, catching up on old times. Laughing and bullshitting about how absurd our lives had become. How grown-up the world expected us to be, when all we wanted to do was go hiking and climbing trees in the woods.

Yes, I definitely prefer the latter choice.

I've thought about this before, and I think that I've even talked with at least one of my sisters about it. The thing is, I don't want an open casket funeral. I don't want that to be the last time people see me. I'd rather just have pictures posted around the place, and maybe some home movies playing. Stuff like that.

Not my corpse, in a suit, in a box.

NotHideousGirl tells me that I'm weird. And I probably am. But this would probably count as my last wish, right?

Cremate me. Scatter my ashes somewhere pretty. And let the sound of my voice and my laugh, let them be part of your last memory of me.

Okay, I have a confession to make.

I have a difficult time picturing how big 4,000 acres is. But they keep talking on the radio about this fire somewhere. They keep saying that it's 4,000 acres big but I can't picture what that really means.

I mean, I know what one acre is. It's the size of half my yard - the part without the trees. Then, if I take all of my property, that's two acres.

But 4,000 acres?

Who talks like that?

Besides farmers?

A quick trip to the Internet tells me that 4,000 acres is 6.25 square miles. That's a little easier for me to understand.

Some quick mental calculation tells me that 6.25 square miles is the equivalent of a square that's 2.5 miles on each side.

Now that I can definitely understand. And I would venture to guess that most people could understand those terms a lot more easily than 4,000 acres.

Except for farmers I guess.

So why do they keep referring to the size of this fire in acres?

I think it's because it sounds more impressive to say 4,000 than to say 6.25.

But, if that's the reason, then why don't they just say that the thing is 174,240,000 square feet, or 25,090,560,000 square inches in size?

Either of those would be much more impressive and scary-sounding than a measly 4,000 acres.

Come to think of it, why don't men measure their penises in millimeters for the same reason?

(I don't know what happened to #1. She didn't include it because the girl she stole it from didn't include it. There are several other missing questions later on. It must be some chick thing.)

2. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive?
Probably.

3. Do you sleep with the TV on?
Any noise other than raw white noise keeps me awake. So I sleep with a fan roaring next to my bed.

4. Have you ever drank milk straight out of the carton?
When I was a kid. I have a bad feeling about this survey now.

5. Have you ever won in a spelling bee?
OMG.

6. Do you like somebody right now?
This is a kids' survey, isn't it? OMG LOL.

7. Are you a fast typer?
I'm pretty decent.

8. Are you dating anyone?
I'm going to guess that I'm not. WeirdGirl may have other ideas.

10. Who can you always turn to?
My sister Dina and RockGirl. There are probably a couple of others who wouldn't turn their backs on me.

13. Are you drinking anything right now?
Diet Pepsi.

14. Do you think you're attractive?
I answered that once in another entry:

"Maybe, in a dark enough room, to a drunk enough observer, while surrounded by lepers and zombies, I might at times be considered not ugly enough to scare children, but I'm enough of a realist to know that about the best I could ever hope for would be simply average."

15. What color underwear are you wearing (if any)?
None.

17. What do you want for Christmas?
A billion dollars. And a kitten calendar.

18. Do you know the muffin man?
Whatever.

19. Do you talk in your sleep?
I might, but you'd never be able to hear it over the snoring.

20. Who wrote the book of love?
Whatever.

23. Do you consider yourself successful?
In some areas of my life. In other, not so much.

24. How many people are on your contact list of your cell phone?
About fifty, but most of them are work people.

26. Plans for tomorrow?
Pay my property taxes, get a haircut, go to work, have lunch with NotHideousGirl, go to a funeral home, go to my home, take a nap, go to Rich O's.

28. Missing someone right now?
Yes. I actually saw her the other day at lunch, but I didn't talk to her because I wasn't sure if it counted as running into her.

29.When was the last time you told some one you love them?
January.

30.WHAT WAS THE LAST SPORT YOU PLAYED?
I shot pool in my basement tonight.

32. Are you black?
I'm kind of a peachy-tan color.

33. Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school?
Nope. Had detention a couple of times.

34. What are you looking forward to?
Finishing this survey.

36. Do you like the cake or the frosting better?
I'm not a big cake fan, but I'd have to say that I like both equally.

38. Can you handle the truth?
Absolutely.

39. Do you like green eggs and ham?
Some of these questions are really stupid, aren't they?

43. Smooth or crunchy peanut butter?
Okay, now you're really reaching.

44. What do you do when no one is watching?
I dunno.

48. Three things about the opposite sex that you first notice?
Smile, eyes, hair, if I see their face first.

49. Who are you thinking about right now?
How to answer this question.

50. Who did you last hug?
WeirdGirl I think. No, wait, it might have been NotHideousGirl.

51. Where is your phone?
Cellphone right next to me. Landline in the living room.

52. When is the last time you had a pillow fight?
A million years ago at least. With my sister.

54. Favourite Colours?
Blue, black, gray.

56. What song do you currently hear?
Nothing at the moment.

60. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Somebody at work.