Today I was digging through all of my picture boxes, looking for one in particular. I didn't find the one I was searching for but I did find some that prove that I used to be a pretty cute kid.

This was taken on my first Mother's Day. Despite what some may think, color film had been invented in 1965. I was just a black & white baby.

Here I was in 1970, apparently having just kacked at my hair with some scissors.

1971. My mom always took me to this evil barber and I always hated it. I think you can see why. Many years later, at my dad's funeral, that same barber had the nerve to try to extort money from me.

Ah, 1972. The Age of Groove may have been coming to an end, but I wasn't going to let it go without a fight. The really neato thing was that I had pants to match this vest. What made it even keener was that my cousins Jeff and Chris had matching outfits. This was the height of my coolness.

This was 1973. The neat thing about this shirt was that it matched everything. I wish I still had one like it.

1975. I kindof look like I might have been hungover here, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't.

The year 1976 was apparently a pretty rough one for me. I obviously used hedge clippers to cut my own hair, and needed a patch on my jacket to remind myself of my own name.

My 8th grade picture from 1979. This was the last decent picture ever taken of me. I remember that shirt. It was one of my all-time favorites. Also, check out the bling around my neck! It was an arrowhead necklace.

...like just now when I was sorting my laundry and glanced out the window to see a veritable blizzard.

I certainly wasn't expecting that. I'd figured that the time for snow was in the past.

Still, it's very pretty.

Whereas on Friday night the Rich O's crowd seemed fairly typical for a busy Friday night, last night's crowd was all Gravity Head.

Standing room only. If you were lucky enough to find a place to stand.

The place had been invaded by a bunch of Daytonese, and they filled every available nook and cranny. It was only through my charm and good looks that I was able to get a spot on the loveseat within an hour after I arrived.

Many of the Rich O's regulars were there as well, crammed into whatever spot they could find (and manage to hang on to) and most of us spent the night exchanging empathetic glances.

As for me, I was pretty much in misery. I don't like crowds. I especially don't like crowds of strangers. I should have left but I'd sort of promised NotGeorge that I'd give him a ride home so I was stuck.

To drink, I had a couple of the NABC Noble Smokers and a Delirium Tremens. The Tremens I had to get from a bottle because the Belgian wave of high gravity beers hasn't started yet. This weekend was mostly about the hops and the stouts. I did, however, manage to have small samples of the following:

• Avery "The Beast" Grand Cru
• Bell's Batch 6000
• Great Divide Oaked Yeti Imperial Stout
• Rogue Old Crustacean Barley Wine

Once the Daytonians had left - there were mumblings about skinny-dipping in the hotel pool - CoffeeDude and NotGeorge joined me in the living room area. By that time I'd switched to Diet Coke, but NotGeorge had just ordered a Bell's Batch 6000 so we sat around for a while. It was actually kind of nice to be able to have a conversation. It'd been way too loud earlier. Our conversation consisted mostly of wondering whether ExoticGirl tasted as good as she looked. Neither of us will ever know.

Fairly late in the evening DooRagGirl came in looking all rastafied, and I gave her my sister's e-mail address.

Left at about 12:30, dropped NotGeorge off at his house, and came home.

Today I went down to our local Caesar's, ostensibly to have a pint of Newcastle, but I knew I'd also do at least a little gambling.

Well I did have my Newcastle, and I also did quite a lot of people watching while I was at it. There are some real freaks in Southern Indiana, and I'm grateful that I'm not one of them.

I'm not, right?

After my beer I went into the casino and, after much searching, finally found a blackjack table with an empty seat. I got $100 worth of chips, vowing that once that was gone I'd be done for the day.

I then proceeded to win forty of the next fifty hands I played. At $10 per hand, and with some blackjacks thrown in, I more than quadrupled my money in about an hour.

I like blackjack, and I certainly like winning, but it can be a very hectic and confusing game sometimes. Yes, I'll admit it. I get confused when I have a 12 or a 13 showing and the dealer's showing crap. I also get confused with an ace sometimes.

So anyway, despite my winning, I was becoming a little overwhelmed with all of the nonstop decisions that had to be made, so I picked up my chips and went to another favorite game - pai gow poker.

It's a relaxing game that usually only requires one or two decisions per minute. There are also a lot more pushes than there are in blackjack, so even if I don't win a hand I have a 66% chance of at least not losing anything.

After about an hour of pai gow poker, the place started getting even more crowded, so I cashed in.

I left with my original $100, plus $513 of the casino's money that I will use to help finance my upcoming trip to Maine.

What was really cool about winning some money, aside of course from it being money was that it was the first time I'd won at our local Caesar's in several years. I normally have pretty good luck in Las Vegas, but the local casino has not been friendly to me since 2001 when I pretty much lived off my winnings for two months.

Oh, yeah. I saw a couple of my sister Dina's friends while I was there. I waved at them and the girl just sheepishly waved back. She had no clue who I was at first, but after a while they came over to my pai gow table and said hello.

When MisunderstoodGirl annouced that it was "pouring down snow" I thought it was a pretty odd thing to say.

After driving home in the stuff I can't think of a better way to describe it.

I haven't driven through snow this heavy since I experienced some blow-back in Juneau, Alaska, 10 years ago, and that wasn't officially snow at all.

Snow was piling up on my windshield faster than my wipers could take it off.

But anyway, I obviously made it home, and here I sit.

I had pretty much decided that I wasn't going to Rich O's tonight. The dreadicipation (I just coined that word) was giving me an actual anxiety attack. I was freaked out about the Gravity Head (Rich O's strong beer festival) crowds, I was paranoid about the numerous times I'd been quizzed about my plans for the night, I had gotten to the point where I could only imagine the worst possible outcome if I went to the bar.

While I was quietly having a nervous breakdown at home, however, two things happened.

First, RealTrainGirl contacted me and promised to be my rock if the Gravity Head crowd started to get to me.

Second, if you think I'm going to write about what was second you're wrong. Let's just say that my full Moon theory has been blown to bits.

So I ended up braving Rich O's, getting there at about 10:00.

The place was pretty damned crowded, though it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. I'd had the good timing to arrive when the island was unoccupied so I grabbed a seat and RealTrainGirl and MisunderstoodGirl joined me.

To drink, all I had was a couple pints of NABC's new Noble Smoker. I really like it, and I didn't feel at all like experimenting with any other beer. Not tonight anyway.

We ended up staying until 12:30 or so. RealTrainGirl once again impressed me with her ability to drink. MisunderstoodGirl did not emanate a "fuck you asshole" vibe, so that was good.

I had a good night. Much better than it would have been if I'd shut myself in a closet and sucked my thumb at home, as was my original plan.

Oh, yeah. RealTrainGirl told me a little bit of gossip that I found intriguing, and she also agreed with me that a certain dipshit must have been lying to me when he told me that TrainGirl didn't remember me. I of course knew that already, but it was nice to have a second opinion.

1. Asking a question, then arguing with the answer.

This list is not meant to be all-inclusive.

Lately people keep asking me what my plans are.

What am I doing Saturday? Will I be at Rich O's Friday?

Here's a little secret: I have no plans.

What I have are impulses. Some idea or opportunity presents itself, and I go with it. I get invited to a concert to hear a band I never heard of, and I go. I hear about a cool bar in Maine, so I buy plane tickets. I sit in Las Vegas and realize that Death Valley is only a few hours away, so I rent a car. I just go and do it.

I also have habits. I do things because they're what I've done before. They're what I've become accustomed to doing.

Every now and then, however, an inkling or a desire or even a habit will turn into a plan. It will turn into a plan because I just had to go and tell someone about it.

This causes two problems with me.

First, it's just a lot of pressure, knowing a day or a week in advance what I'll be doing. What I have to be doing, because I planned it. I tell people that I'll be in a certain place at a certain time and, by God, I better be there. To do otherwise would be irresponsible.

The second problem with telling people my plans is that, once I tell them, they'll know about them. They can then begin to scheme and plot, because they know my plans.

This happened last month when, on the Monday before my birthday, my sister called me up to "casually" ask what my plans were for Saturday night. Her fiancé ";just happened" to be going out of town and so she "just wondered" if I'd be going to Rich O's.

All kinds of alarms started going off in my head, for I know my sister, and I was pretty sure that she wasn't going to let my 40th birthday go by without some fanfare.

These paranoid feelings were pretty much confirmed when, that Friday, she called me again to see what time I planned to be at Rich O's Saturday night.

As it turned out, the celebration my sister put together was suitably muted and not at all the circus I'd been fearing.

So the first problem with plans is pressure, and the second, in my case, is paranoia.

The paranoia I felt yesterday when a bartender at Rich O's asked me if I'd be there Friday night. He'd never bothered to ask my plans before.

That paranoia doubled when today another bartender asked me the same question. "Are you coming in Friday, Dave?"

What the fuck?

Here's another secret: I don't like surprises.

The good surprises (like the aforementioned birthday observance) mean you have to be all giddy and shit and act like you're having a heart attack and just generally be a jolly fellow while congratulating everyone on how surprised you are.

Secret number three: I'm not a jolly fellow.

And the bad surprises, well they're a different thing altogether, aren't they? Those are the surprises that nobody wants to tell you about. They don't want to tell you but they sure as shit want to be there when you do find out.

The third kind of surprise is neither good nor bad, at least on paper. Nobody knows exactly what will happen, but it's sure to be interesting and dramatic.

I do, and have, paid good money to avoid that kind of surprise. The only thing worse than having to deal with the unexpected is having to deal with it unexpectedly.

So now I'm sitting here paranoid, for no good reason whatsoever, simply because at least two people know my plans for Friday night.

First, I want to say that I generally fast-forward through the judges comments, then make my notes. Once I've written my own opinions I go back and see what the judges thought.

Having said that, I did not agree with the judges on a few performances tonight.

Amanda: Hot. Too damn perky though. Sang a stupid song. (60 points)

Janay: The perfect song for her voice. I really liked it. (80 points)

Carrie: Yay Pisces! Cute tonight. She sang quite well but now I'm wondering if she can sing anything that's not country. (80 points)

Vonzell: There's that stupid name again. Sang one of my least favorite songs but did a good job. Best I've heard from her yet. (80 points)

Nadia: Great performance, pretty good singing. I can't believe that she's actually growing on me. (75 points)

Lindsey: Sexy as hell. I found it hard to stay objective. She mesmerized me tonight. (85 points)

Mikalah: Sang with her "nose voice" and I think she's got a cold. Pretty lousy performance. (55 points)

Jessica: She just irritated me tonight, but I guess it could have just been residual irritation left over from Mikalah's honking. (65 points)

I still think it's time for Janay to leave, and I wish Vonzell would take her stupid name and go as well.

2 packs chili-flavored ramen noodles
1 can Skyline chili (other canned chili tastes lke dog food, and is not watery enough)
1 handful of finely shredded cheddar cheese

Boil enough water to cook the noodles. Use a pot.

While waiting for the water to boil, mix the two flavor packets from the ramen noodles in a bowl with the skyline chili.

Nuke the chili mixture for a minute.

I usually break the ramen noodle bricks in half at this point.

Once the water is boiling, cook the noodles. Stir them up so they debrickify. Don't use your finger to stir.

Once the noodles are done, drain them though a collander and dump them on a plate. Or use the pot again if you're really lazy.

Dump the chili mixture on the noodles.

Sprinkle the cheese on top of the other stuff.

Enjoy!

You can use other flavor ramen noodles. The Skyline chili is bland enough to be suitable as baby food, so it really shouldn't clash with whatever flavor ramen noodles you choose. You might want to rethink the cheese selction though. Parmesan goes well with mushroom-flavored noodles. American goes well with shrimp-flavored.

My brain is holding its breath.

The feelings of paranoia, anticipation, of impending something are nearing a crescendo, and I am having a hard time keeping a thought in my head long enough to