TremensGirl said something last night that struck me as deep, and true, and I told her that I was going to use it, and credit her for saying it.

There's a fine line between a pussy and an asshole that every man must...

Every man must what?

Walk?

Lick?

I'm thinking more likely the former, because it wasn't a sexual discussion. It was more about the two extremes of personalities that guys must avoid. I wasn't really in the conversation. I was just listening. But I should have tried harder to remember the entire quote.

Anyway, I spent the first half of Friday night at Rich O's, in the throne. It was a nice night. It wasn't too crowded at all, and the people who were there seemed to have about the same energy level that I had. I had a couple pints of NABC Jasmine (70), and about a half-pint of Upland Wheat (53). I had a couple of nice conversations with someone from my recent past, conversations that managed to pick me up and knock me down at the same time. I emailed RockGirl.

I left Rich O's at 11:00 or so, and went over to The Pub. There are a bunch of strangers and weirdoes in town for the annual Thunder Over Louisville air show and fireworks display, and I was kind of in the mood for talking to new people.

I ended up sitting with some people from Indianapolis who make the trek every year. One of them was particularly nice, and I talked to her pretty much exclusively for two or three hours. IndyGirl asked for my email address. I'm sure I'll never hear from her again.

Oh yeah, I had a couple pints of Newcastle (4434) and then a Diet Coke to round out the night.

Now I'm attempting to write an entry just because I have nothing else to do. My house is being cleaned right now, and I want to stay out of their way. Also, I don't want to feel guilty for not helping out.

So I'll write an entry about last night, and I'll type slowly to kill extra time.

Let's see...

Um...

Oh, yeah.

I went to Rich O's at about 7:00 or so. The parking lot was completely full, so I parked on Neptune. The crowd wasn't too bad inside the place. TallLady was in the throne, and some strangers were on the loveseat. I sat on the sofa and ordered a Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen (86). I kind of vegged out and did my best to deflect any questions directed at me.

Then after TallLady left I moved to the throne and ordered another Schlenkerla (103).

Then the weirdoes started pouring in.

One was HotEuchreGirl. She is, um, hot but she has weird friends. So it wasn't even that much of a chore to tear myself away from her and move to the island. The mass of weirdoes in the living room area took about a second to shift and heal the hole my departure had left.

SassyBoy and that one super cute girl from a couple of weeks ago came in. I sat at the island and talked with them for pretty much the rest of the night. Or, to be more precise, I talked to SassyBoy and somehow lost the power of speech every time I even looked in SuperCuteGirl's direction.

My next beer was going to be another Schlenkerla, but they're out of those now. Thanks to me. So I had a yummy Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1788) instead.

HotEuchreGirl came and sat with us for a while. I moved to the other end of the island so I could talk to her. I managed to scare her away fairly quickly. Probably with all the drooling.

My last beer was a Koningshoeven Quad (432) and it was nearly my downfall. I doubt that I could have had another drop of alcohol even if I'd wanted to.

So, I had a few diet cokes and then came home at around 12:30 or so.

Kind of a boring night.

t h e l e t t e r A
- - Are you available?: I suppose. Physically anyway.
- - What is your age?: 8042, counting all my past lives.
- - What annoys you?: People asking my age.

t h e l e t t e r B
- - Do you know anyone named Billy? I don't think so. I know a Willie. And a Bill or two.
- - When is your birthday?: February 20
- - Who is your best friend?: I'm not sure.

t h e l e t t e r C
- - What's your favorite candy?: If candy bars count, then Peanut Butter Twix. If candy bars don't count, then why the fuck not? They're good!
- - Crush?: Maybe one. It's a weird one though.
- - When was the last time you cried?: Me strong man. Me no cry.

t h e l e t t e r D
- - Do you daydream?: Sure.
- - What's your favorite kind of dog?: The kind that don't care what my crotch smells like.
- - What day of the week is it?: Thursday

t h e l e t t e r E
- - How do you like your eggs?: In Egg-McMuffin form, whatever that's called.
- - emergency room? Once for myself. A couple of times with other people.

t h e l e t t e r F
- - Do you use fly swatters?: My sister hides my fly swatters. I end up using whatever's handy.
- - Have you ever used a foghorn?: Don't think so.

t h e l e t t e r G
- - Do you chew gum?: Every now and then. I like Juicy Fruit.
- - Do you like gummy candies?: Not so much.

t h e l e t t e r H
- - How are you? I'm just ducky. Thanks for asking.
- - What's your height? 5'8"
- - What color is your hair?: Blonde, to my great dismay.

t h e l e t t e r I
- - What's your favorite ice cream?: Vannilla Fudge Swirl. Yummy.
- - Have you ever ice skated?: Define "skated." I slid around on skates once, when I was a kid, but I wouldn't call it skating.

t h e l e t t e r J
- - What's your favorite Jelly Bean?: Whatever kind I don't have to eat.
- - Have you heard a really hilarious joke lately?: Yes, it was about your mother though, so I won't repeat it publicly.
- - Do you wear jewelry?: I'm straight, so unless you count a watch...

t h e l e t t e r K
- - Who do you want to kill?: Nobody in particular comes to mind.

t h e l e t t e r L
- - Are you laid back?: I think so, as long I let myself vent every now and then.

t h e l e t t e r M
- - What was your favorite movie when you were little?: My sister and I used to stay up late to watch the original Time Machine. It was pretty cool.

t h e l e t t e r N
- - Do you have a nickname?: I suppose that Dave is a nickname for David.
- - What's your favorite number?: Don't have one.
- - Do you prefer night or day?: Night.

t h e l e t t e r O
- - What's your one wish?: I only get one?!? Well screw you. I'll find myself a genie having a two-for-one sale, at least.
- - Are you an only child?: I have two sisters, but they're grown up. I"m the only one who's still a child.

t h e l e t t e r P
- - What are you most paranoid about?: What is your reason for asking that? Who put you up to it?
- - Piercings?: No, I'm straight.

t h e l e t t e r Q
- - Are you quick to judge people?: Sometimes. Like if they're an obvious asshole.

t h e l e t t e r R
- - Do you think you're always right?: Me strong man. Me am always right.
- - Do you watch reality TV?: Survivor and Amazing Race and American Idol.
- - Reasons to cry?: I've heard that some chicks and gay guys cry when they get their hearts broken. Or maybe if they stub their toe really bad.

t h e l e t t e r S
- - Do you prefer sun or rain? Sun. Duh.
- - Do you like snow? I wish we'd actually get some snow around here.
- - What's your favorite season?: Summer.

t h e l e t t e r T
- - What time is it?: 6:41 PM
- - What time did you wake up?: 3:04 this morning. I thought I heard my phone ring.

t h e l e t t e r U
- - Can you ride a unicycle? Never tried. I imagine that I would kill myself and any bystanders if I ever did try.

t h e l e t t e r V
- - What's the worst veggie?: Lots of them. Beets are probably the worst. I mean, what the fuck are those things?

t h e l e t t e r W
- - What's your worst habit?: Filling out long surveys for my blog.

t h e l e t t e r X
- - Have you ever had an x-ray? A few, for suspected broken bones.
- - Do you own a xylophone?: No, I'm straight.

t h e l e t t e r Y
- - Do you like the color yellow?: Couldn't think of anything better to ask for the letter Y, could you?

t h e l e t t e r Z
- - Do you believe in the zodiac?: I've seen some things that make me wonder if the personality types associated with astrological signs might be valid. The whole predicting the future thing though - I guess I think that's crap.
- - What's your sign?: Pisces.

Waiting for my shirt to dewrinkle again. Always an exciting time. Time in which to ponder the vast mysteries of the universe.

Such as, I know this one girl who usually pees every ten minutes or so. What's up with that?

Her boyfriend, on the other hand, seems to go for weeks at a time without relieving himself. It's actually a little scary, waiting for him to explode in a cloud of urine. Wondering if I'll be caught in the blast.

I, contrary to popular belief, am not a freak. As least not in this particular area. I pee exactly as often as a normal person should pee.

But I think it might be a good thing to have my guy friend's bladder power. I mean, it always feels good to pee. And it always feels even better the worse I have to go, and the more volume I put out. So, I reason, if I could go for even a few days between urinations, then how good would it feel when I finally did go?

Pretty damn fantastic, I bet.

I know I'd trade my few measly ten-second pees every day for a ten-minute pee every few days. Especially one that felt so good I might not need women any more.

Some braniac should look into this. It should be possible.

Back in November I wrote about how I'd been feeling like Southern Indiana had somehow grown giant hands which it was using to push me away. I wrote that it had been a good thing that I was going to Las Vegas, because there's no way I'd have been able to stay where I was. This place was actively rejecting my presence.

That was a new feeling for me. Always before, I wrote, always before I'd been pulled to faraway places. Then, after Las Vegas or Chicago or wherever had loosened its grip on me, I felt free to come home. I even felt like home welcomed me back sometimes.

Yesterday I had an idea for something to do with my four-day weekend. A road trip, but not just any old road trip. An action-packed extravaganza. Drivel Tour '07, I began calling it in my head.

The plan was simple, yet brilliant. I had four days and three nights to kill. I let a couple of cities rattle around in my head, but none seemed quite right. Not quite enough. That's when my brilliance kicked in.

I'd drive south, to Nashville, and spend Thursday night there. Then, Friday morning, I'd drive another couple of hours, and end up in Memphis. Friday night I'd visit some of the touristy areas that I'd so carefully avoided back in 1998, when I lived in Memphis. Maybe I'd even meet up with a fellow blogger and we could swap some of the stories we'd never written about. I've got a zillion of those.

Then, Saturday morning, I'd drive up to St. Louis, and I'd go to that Growler's Pub. They have good beer there. Or maybe back to Laclede's Landing, and that brewpub that I liked, Morgan Street.

Sunday morning I'd have a four-hour drive back home. Four-day weekend spent. Beer drank. Problem solved.

It was a good plan, if I do say so myself. And I do. It might have even been fun. A giant circle of a road trip. I even briefly considered calling it Circle Jerk '07.

Well, it's not going to happen.

WeirdGirl invited me to go on a trip with her and a dozen of her friends. We wouldn't leave until Friday and, since I can't make up my damn mind, the Nashville leg of Drivel Tour '07 is effectively cancelled. And without that first leg, the entire trip is shot.

I seriously doubt that I'll end up going with WeirdGirl. I can't emotionally afford to develop feelings for her, and that's probably what would happen.

Oh yeah, also my sister Dina is having a cookout on Sunday. The thought of starting that day in St. Louis, driving four hours to get home, then spending who knows how much time at my sister's house, well it's exhausting just thinking about it.

Either one of those things - either WeirdGirl's invitation or Dina's cookout - may have been enough to cancel my road trip. But neither of them were really needed.

A part of me knew all along that I wasn't really going anywhere.

What would be the point? What would I accomplish?

Not a fucking thing.

See, Southern Indiana is no longer pushing me away. I'm irrelevant to this place now. I'm not needed here, but neither am I needed to be gone from here. Like I said, irrelevant.

No faraway cities call to me. They have nothing to offer me except disappointment. Though it does seems a little strange to me, that disappointment can still exist even where there are no real hopes or expectations. I guarantee that it does still exist.

This is all pretty much the same reason that I didn't go anywhere for Easter this year. I saw no point in it. There would be no rejuvenation for me. No real relaxation. Nothing but wasted thoughts and wasted days and nights.

Well, I can do all that right here near home. And, right here near home, it's expected that it will all be a waste.

Tonight was virtual Friday for me, as I'm off work until Monday. So, yay!

There, I wrote something happy. I saw HotGirlsHotCousin tonight, and she told me that my journal was too depressing. I don't know why she should feel that way. I mean, it's not like she has to live my life. She, and all of my other readers, they should all be grateful that they're not the ones having to put up with this bullshit. Reading what I write should make everyone happy, by contrast if nothing else.

Anyway, I went to Rich O's at about 7:00, and I sat with the aforementioned HotGirlsHotCousin and one of her cousins who should probably get a nickname but I haven't picked one yet. Since there was nothing on the beer board that looked appealing to me I had a Smithwick's (1534).

Then, an hour or so later, I had another one (1554).

I spent the vast majority of the night emailing RockGirl and probably bugging the shit out of her. But that's okay. She's tough, and I know she can take it.

My next beer was a Schlenkerla Weizen (69), which smelled and tasted fantastic to me. I even made everyone around me smell it, I was so proud.

Then, I got bored with sitting on the sofa, so I moved over to the kiddie table and talked with TShirtDude for a while. By then I was drinking a Regenboog Guido (30) which I really loved.

At one point I drunk-texted NotHideousGirl. I wasn't expecting a response, and I didn't get one.

At 10:30 or so, a smoking hot girl came in and sat out front. So, feeling frisky, I stole a pen and a notepad from behind the bar, adopted my most professional expression, and went and took her beer and food order. But then the real bartender took over and didn't let me approach the hot girl anymore.

Then at about 11:00 I got really bored, so I went to White Castle and then came home.

And tomorrow, I have a decision to make. What to do with four days off work?

I had an odd little dream tonight. One to which I wouldn't have paid much attention except that it's kinda recurring. Kinda sorta.

I was at my home, in my living room, taking a nap on my couch. My mom was there, sitting on my loveseat and doing crochet. There was a black kitten in her lap, trying to attack the yarn.

I wasn't quite able to get to sleep, and I was tossing and turning on the couch. I fell off onto the floor. Mom looked up from her work and asked if I was okay.

I couldn't answer her. I tried very hard to answer her, but no words would leave my mouth. Just a croak is all I could manage.

I crawled up under the coffee table, where I figured it would be dark, so I could go to sleep. I was so tired.

My mom put down her stuff and sat on the floor and talked to me. She told me that I would be okay, that I'd had a bad dream, and that everything was fine. She tried to reach in to stroke my head, but I kept moving away from her for some reason. I guess I didn't want comfort, I wanted to sleep. I somehow knew that once I'd had a good nap, and after I'd woken up, everything would be good again. If only I could sleep for a little while.

Mom started singing a song to me. Some childhood lullaby. And I started to cry. Mom asked me why I was crying, and this time I was able to speak.

"Because it hurts," I said. "Because it hurts so much. It never stops."

"There there," she said. "It will all be better in a few days."

And then she told me about Thursday. How she and Dad were going away together. On a cruise to the Virgin Islands, for a sort of second honeymoon. How excited she was about the trip, and how she was going to buy me lots of presents, and she'd be back in a couple of weeks.

I felt a little better then. I was very happy for her and Dad. They'd saved up for this trip for a long time. They deserved it. I started to smile, and I started to crawl out from under the coffee table..

But then I remembered that Dad had died.

I became frantic with fear. I crawled under the couch. I couldn't face my mom. I couldn't tell her that Dad was gone, that their dream vacation wasn't going to happen.

But then I remembered that Mom had died, too.

Under the couch, there was a sort of display. Like in a museum. There was a door with a big rusty padlock on it. There was another door, painted red, and slightly ajar. That door scared me. I shied away from it. Between the doors was a pedestal, and on the pedestal were two tickets for a cruise to the Virgin Islands. Both were stamped with the word "cancelled" in big red letters.

Then the black kitten meowed at me, and started climbing up my leg, and I woke up.

First, the black kitten. It had no tail. I've dreamed about kittens like that before.

Second, I was under the coffee table crying about something in particular. Someone in particular. My grief in my dreams is so much stronger than what I feel in my waking life. I definitely notice when I dream about her. Even when it's bad.

But the most recurring thing about the dream was the part about Thursday. I had another dream about Thursday a few days ago. And another one about a week before that. Always the same Thursday. Always the 19th of April. Always the second Thursday after Easter.

This Thursday, I'm taking a day of vacation. Maybe I'll sleep all day long. Maybe, when I wake up, everything will be good again.

This entry brought to you by:

New Albanian Jasmine the Mastiff (10)

(draft) Black with a decent tan head. Strong aroma of roasted malt and a touch of chocolate. Flavor is like the aroma. Mostly roasted malt with a touch of chocolate. And no hop bitterness! Yay! I really like this beer, so I'll probably never see it again once this batch is gone. I'd better drink up while I can.

Today, StalkerGirl completed my game of 20-questions. She got it right at number 20. So, yay for StalkerGirl!

Meanwhile, RockGirl continues to toil. I lost track of the number of questions she's had after 8,000,000 or so. Actually, I'm pretty sure she's just been fucking with me.

Anyway, now I have to get cryptic.

One of my more self-destructive habits, mentally destructive I mean, is that I tend to obsess over whatever I figure is the worst thing that could possibly happen. And then I start playing some horrible scenario over and over in my head until, in theory at least, I become immune to it. Or at least less susceptible to its harmful effects.

That's the theory.

It even worked. Once.

I used to obsess about this one terrible thing. I'd write about it and I'd talk about it and I'd even joke about it sometimes, and then, when it actually happened, I was surprisingly okay with it. Not really okay per se, but I never did implode or explode the way I'd have thought I would. I think my biggest problem was wondering when and/or if I would realize the horror of the situation and then collapse into a spreading pool of misery and self-pity.

But it never happened. So that was cool, I guess. Though sometimes I think that it might have been nice to have felt something.

Now, now I've found myself a new obsession. Once that's admittedly even less likely than the last one. Less likely, perhaps, but a million times more terrible should it ever happen.

And this scenario, I can't talk about it. I certainly can't fucking joke about it. I did try writing about it. Once, in an email. It was completely ignored.

A while back I wrote an entry about something terrible. For a few days I was sure that this would be the worst thing that could happen. But I realized that I was wrong. It wouldn't even be close to the worst thing. Nope, the worst thing is something that I can't even bring myself to imagine with any semblance of detail.

So, in the unlikely event that it ever does happen, I'll be woefully unprepared.

Great, now I'm in a shitty mood. Way to go, Dave. You dipshit.