I've written before about how life provides its own metaphors.

I've had the perfect metaphor staring me in the face for months.

Well, maybe not staring me in the face. Sitting in my backyard, actually.

That damn hole!

It's the perfect metaphor for what's been wrong with me!

And now I'm in too good of a mood to capitalize on my newfound insight!

And I've also forgotten how to use paragraphs!

And I'm going to stop now!

I dumped 43 5-gallon buckets of dirt into my hole yesterday.

So, for the moment anyway, it looks a lot less like a hole and more like a patch of dirt.

But let's hold off on the celebrations for a bit, okay?

Even though I piled dirt up to ground level, I didn't even come close to actually filling the hole. Here is a highly accurate (and to scale, and beautiful) view of what I'm talking about:

See, there's an awful lot of empty space that the dirt didn't get to. I'll have to wait for a good hard rain to cause the dirt to settle some more, then I can dump more dirt into the hole.

Gives me something to look forward to.

Can i put one of your photographs on a cd cover (not to be widely distributed)

I'm tempted to just reflexively say "Yes!" but I guess I should ask which image you're wanting to use first. Please let me know.

I wrote last night that I'd had a relaxing night, but that was really simplifying things. Taken as a whole, it was quite relaxing, but parts - especially the first couple of hours - were just exhausting.

I found myself fighting the same old assumptions, the same old explanations, the same old bullshit that I've been fighting for over a year now. It was nice to finally be talking with someone that was actually listening to what I was saying, so I at least felt like there was a chance that I'd be able to get my points across, but it really was pretty tiring.

I'd talk about some small part of this complicated mess that I'm in, and, whenever I'd seemingly contradict something I'd said earlier, RealTrainGirl's eyes would just light up. Ah ha! She'd caught me!

Not.

Because things haven't just been complicated. They've also been ever-changing. Evolving and devolving. Like my mood, my desires and my needs have been constantly reacting to events, thoughts, and realizations.

RealTrainGirl just could not seem to understand why I left Rich O's Friday night. She just could not seem to understand why I didn't want to go there last night. I mean, she understood the reasons I was giving her, but I don't think she believed me, and she kept trying to propose her own explanations.

Like I said, things are complicated. There are several reasons that I did what I did, but the main reason is the same one that's been driving me since all this started.

This is now, and has always been, my problem. Not LaptopGirl's problem. Not our problem. I'm the one that screwed up, and I'm the one that should have to face the consequences.

At times during all this, I've been completely taken over by emotions. They overwhelm me and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. If I had stayed at Rich O's on Friday, I would have been overwhelmed. I would have lost control. I would have said or done something stupid, and I'd probably have upset LaptopGirl. Or at least made her very uncomfortable.

I'd have made it her problem, and that's something that I just cannot let myself do. So I got the hell out of there before it got to that point. My leaving like that may have bothered her a little, but I had very little time to choose the lesser of two evils.

Now, on Saturday night, I didn't want to go to Rich O's. Explaining that proved to be a little more difficult.

She did not come back to New Albany to see me. I also seriously doubt that she came back to get upset, or to feel uncomfortable.

I've been assuming that this is simply a visit. That she'll be returning to her new home, and that I can once again begin putting myself back together. If she's in town visiting, then it seems to me that the least I can do is stay away. Let her spend time in her old hangout without having to worry about me and my feelings. Like I said, it's my problem.

RealTrainGirl just didn't seem to accept this explanation. She just didn't seem to understand why I couldn't just go to Rich O's last night and be a normal person.

News flash: I haven't been a normal person in a long time. Not when it comes to LaptopGirl. My emotions are not hooked up to a switch. I cannot simply turn them off when they become inconvenient.

And what if I'm wrong? What if this isn't simply a visit? What if it's permanent?

Well then I'll have a tough decision to make.

I once wrote an entry wherein I said that all I wanted was two seconds. Well, Friday was my chance, and, as it turned out, two seconds would have been an eternity. Long enough to obliterate me all over again.

I got out in time, this time. I saw the meteor streaking toward me, and I only got a glancing blow. I can't count on being that lucky forever though. So, if this visit is more than a visit, I'll have to make a choice.

I'll need to either grow up or give up.

Tonight RealTrainGirl and I went back to The Cumberland Brewpub in Louisville. I'd been wanting some more of their porter, and she was looking for something to do on her night off. Rich O's was out of the question, so to Louisville we went.

We ended up having a couple of the Nitro Porters each while I attempted to explain what's been going through my head lately. I'm pretty sure that I failed, but I did manage to get the main point across. I hope.

When we were nearly done with our second beers, the waitress brought us a couple bowls of ice cream that had been made with the porter. At first I thought the waitress was flirting with me, but after a bit I decided that she was actually flirting with RealTrainGirl. Oh well.

Anyway, the vanilla version of the ice cream tasted like - get this - vanilla ice cream. Just like you'd find at any grocery store. I tried pouring some of my beer over it, and that made it taste better.

The chocolate version of the ice cream was quite yummy. The porter flavor was very apparent.

Next we went to this place called Flanagan's where we both had just one beer:

Beamish Irish Stout (16)

(can) Nice and creamy, though that could have been because of the widget. Compared to Guinness, a little sweeter, with a subtle chocolate flavor instead of coffee. I liked it, and would probably like it more if I could ever find it on tap.

That was it. We had a nice relaxing evening. Much better than if I'd just sat at home feeling sorry for myself.

I guess that's it.

I very nearly stayed home all night last night.

I wanted to go have a beer, but going to the dentist messed up my jaw. I was just in terrible pain, and could hardly move my mouth at all. That'll teach me to get a cavity in a back tooth. It's just too hard for the dentist to reach back there without nearly breaking my jaw to do it.

So by the time the Novocain wore off my tooth wasn't hurting at all, but my jaw was just killing me. I still wanted to go out, but first I had to eat something. I nuked some cheese bread and somehow managed to get it down by taking small bites and only using the right side of my mouth. It was still excruciating though.

I got to Rich O's a little bit before 10:00 and grabbed a seat in the living room area next to some people I don't know.

To drink, I had myself a Baltika "6" Porter. I cannot stress enough how much I like this beer. I may just marry it.

The people in the living room area kept trying to suck me into their conversation. I was in no mood for it, so I moved to the bar and began trying to decide what my next beer would be. I was leaning toward another Baltika but something even stronger might have helped ease the pain in my jaw, so I was considering some Belgians.

What was left of me didn't even think. I got the hell out of there as quickly as I could.

Some people are just good. Some people will always be there for you when you need them. No matter how much pain you've caused them in the past. No matter how much pain you promise for the future. When you need them, they come through for you , no questions asked, and no expectations.

I'm not one of those people. I wish I was, and I'm closer to it than most people I know, but I'm not one of them.

Last night, when I left Rich O's, I went to see one of these good people.

I didn't have to say a word. MixedSignalGirl could see it in my face. She knew that I wouldn't just show up like that unannounced. She knew what had happened, and she pulled me to her.

Driving home this morning, I found myself wondering just what we'd done to deserve each other.

I must have done something really wonderful.

She must have done something terrible.

I will never understand what she sees in me. I will never be able to give her what she deserves. But I will also never forget last night, and I will be her friend for as long as she'll let me.

Well here it is. Friday again.

Another weekend staring me in the face. Challenging me to do something.

I'm a little hesitant. I'm in this mood after all. No longer a bad mood but not quite a good one either. I guess you could call me content. But I'm sure this is only temporary. I think I could tip in either direction, and I'm not sure that I want to.

If I become depressed or sad, that'll be yet another setback in a seemingly endless stream of setbacks.

If I develop an actual good mood then I'm afraid that my face will crack and fall apart from the smiling, and that would probably gross everybody out.

I kind of want to go over to Fourth Street Live tonight. Eat some dinner, drink some Young's Double Chocolate Stout at The Pub. That could be fun.

We'll see. I have a dentist appointment this afternoon and sometimes it takes hours and hours for the numbness in my mouth to go away. No sense eating a good meal and drinking good beer if I can't taste any of it.

I have something to tell you, and I'd like you to hear me out before you say or do anything drastic.

There's another woman.

Actually, there are a bunch of other women. And there are some men. And there are even some kids and some old people.

I've been cheating on you. I've been 'blogging elsewhere.

It started this past Monday. I logged onto my JS account and, over the course of the next 24 hours, I imported nearly all of my 'blog entries into my JS 'blog.

There are several reasons that I did this. I wrote about a couple of them over there, on the other 'blog:

Well I guess I've imported everything I'm going to.

Anyone that wants anything older than last June will have to go to my main site. But, and trust me on this, it's all quite boring before last June. Some would say it's still quite boring.

So, why did I just spend 24 hours importing a year's worth of entries into JS?

I'm so glad that you asked.

A few days ago I had my 1000th viewing here. I'm sure that about 999 of these were accessed via the Random Journal link on the main page. Whatever, 1000 times someone had come to my JS journal and saw absolutely nothing (what Stevie called a Phantom Journal). About 100 of those times whoever it was would bother to click the My Personal Site link and go read my actual 'blog.

That means that over 90% of JSers were missing out on my brilliance. Or my stupidity. Or whatever.

So the main reason I decided to import all these old entries, and to continue to keep my JS 'blog in sync with my real 'blog, is to simply get some more readers. I'm kind of a whore that way. I started writing this stuff for very personal reasons, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I continue to do it because I want actual people to read what I write. In other words, if I'm going to vomit bullshit, I want to get it on as many people as I can.

The second reason is that this JS community has always intrigued me. People that only know each other through their writings, yet seem to become friends (or even enemies) through those writings and the comment conversations they engender. I just think it's neat, and I guess I'm hoping to become a part of that someday.

So that's why I did this. My plan is to keep updating my real 'blog just like I always have, and to duplicate everything but the most boring entries to JS.

Awkward ending to entry.

The JS 'blog is viewable by JS members only, but if you are a member, or if you want to sign up, you can check out barenada.journalspace.com. Comments are enabled over there - it's one of the main reasons I'm doing this.

Just a quick update on my vacation/long weekend planning.

A few weeks ago I asked for suggestions, and I've received several. Thanks!

Labor Day is fast approaching, and I get a four-day weekend, so I'd really like to get away from home for a while. Since it's still baseball season, I limited my immediate search to those cities with professional teams.

Detroit Tigers are away next weekend. Ditto for Cleveland Indians, St. Louis Cardinals, and Cincinnati Reds.

Cubs and Brewers are both home next weekend though, so the Chicago/Milwaukee area just might work. I didn't get to make it to Wrigley when I was in Chicago recently, and I've never been to Wisconsin at all.

So I may, just may, drive up there next Friday. It's going to be a little tough financially. We'll see. It may turn out that I just drive to St. Louis and do some non-baseball tourist stuff. Or I may puss out and stay home.

And I've already decided that, next Spring, I'm going to pick a weekend that both the Orioles and the Nationals are at home and spend three or four days in that area.

For this Winter, Detroit/Ann Arbor/Kalamazoo are still very much on my short list, as is Cleveland and New York.

(I just remembered that there's this "Brew at the Zoo" thingy next weekend at The Louisville Zoo. I missed it last year because I had to go to this party that same night. This year I really want to go, so I guess I won't be travelling to any other cities.)

Last Fall I wrote this entry. I quote part of it here:

Shock, sadness, relief, anger, disappointment, curiosity, blame, determination, grief, fear, speculation, impatience, regret, doubt, depression, wonder, pessimism, optimism, nervousness, callousness, understanding, drama, accusation, resignation...

I could go on and on. At night, instead of allowing me to sleep, my mind takes these and countless other thoughts and creates elaborate storylines that branch madly, twisting and weaving, joining and separating, spreading and collapsing. None ever finish. None ever get wrapped up in the end. I resolve nothing then finally I sleep out of sheer exhaustion.

My mind is trying desperately to find something to latch onto. Something to think about. Something to care about. Something to occupy it and pull it from this void.

A million times a minute, it seems, I'll pick up a thought, then dismiss it as irrelevant. Discard it as bullshit.

For so long I tried so hard to get my mind to shut down for just a little while and give me some peace and quiet. Now it's too damn quiet and it's driving me crazy. The silence is deafening.

I think that even sadness would be a welcome diversion from this, this nothing that's enveloped me. Reminds me of another entry:

There is...Nothing.

Blackness and silence surround him, seep into him.

He wonders how long it has been. A minute? A day? A million years?

Even the familiar thump thump of his heart has stopped. He ponders this, and reaches his hand to his chest, but he finds that he has no hand, and that he has no chest.

He simply exists, seeing, hearing, feeling nothing.

He waits for something to happen, and wonders if he is dead.