So this morning, on the news, they showed Mt. Rainier. I wish I could have seen it in person, but when I went outside I couldn’t find it. Maybe you can’t see it from Bellingham. And I still haven’t seen Mt. Baker, which is only 40 or so miles away. I’m hopeful, though, that I’ll get to see Mt. Rainier sometime over the next couple of days. I’ll definitely take a picture if I see it.

After work today I’m driving south for a couple of hours. Back to Kent, my old stomping grounds. I’ll go to my old bar and maybe run across some of my old friends. Then I’ll spend the night down there somewhere, and celebrate Thanksgiving with my old friend Gene. That should be nice.

Anyway, yesterday after work I went to this bar nearby. People at work had been telling me that they had good burgers. The burger I had was just okay. The fries were a little cold. And there were about 30 old people there. Not like a couple of weeks ago, at Bearno’s back home, when there were a bunch of people in there 50s or 60s. Nope, at this place yesterday everyone was at least 65, and a lot of them looked to be at least 80.

Besides the bartender, I was the youngest person there by at least 20 years.

It was quite creepy.

This is my 9th day here. I have 67 days to go. I wish I could hold my breath that long, but I can’t. I’m going to have to breathe, and I’m going to have to live. HatGirl is being a big help. I think she actually misses me. Me, of all people.

I hope I run into people I know in Kent tonight. More likely is that a lot of people will remember me, but I won’t have any idea who any of them are. I met a lot of people when I was running the pool league there. Most of them probably remember me, but the reverse isn’t true. It would be really cool to see Holly, but she doesn't work at my old bar anymore, so I don't know how to find her.

Oh, and there’s one girl who I hope I don’t run into. I’m crossing my fingers against that possibility.

...sixty-eight to go.

Today was fucked up. Everyone was gone from work. People I needed for information, or for authorization. But I dealt with it, because that's what I'm paid to do. Fix what I can fix, and document what I cannot fix. Plan and research and do my best to prepare for when I can do something that matters.

It was, mainly, a day of glaring for me. Externally, at my phone, and internally, at my heart.

I got so mad, for a while. There was no excuse for my anger, but neither was there any excuse for the source of my anger. So I guess it was balanced or some such crap.

Then my phone rang, and I wanted to live again.

So that was cool.

It's not right, and it's not wrong. It just is.

Happy birthday to LaptopGirl!

So many things have changed in the past year. For you, for me, for us. But the important things remain the same. The words I wrote last year on this date are now, and will forever be, true.

I'm so glad you were born, you sweet, sweet girl. The world is a much better place because you're in it.

I think I'm going to a new bar for dinner after work. New to me, I mean. It's next to where I work, and a couple of people have said they have good burgers. Maybe I'm craving a burger. I don't think I've had one on a month.

I need to find a place that feels right to me. I have this mental image of myself sitting at a bar and drinking and thinking. And also smoking, but in Washington I can't do that, so I've had to revise my image.

Anyway, I need to find a bar like that. Where I can just sit and drink and think. And glare at my phone, at least, Because glaring at the door wouldn't make much sense.

When I was in Las Vegas, I actually did glare at the entrance to whatever bar I happened to be in. That was more from overblown hope than from insanity. If I glared that any entrances up here, that would be pretty insane, I think. So I haven't done it. Yet.

Now I'm starving for a cheeseburger.

...and sixty-nine to go.

Seems like such a long time. An eternity. An eternal time and an infinite distance separate us. I wish with all my heart that those were the only things standing between us. Because the time will lessen and, in sixty-nine days, so will the distance. Both will eventually dwindle to zero, but we'll still be apart.

Anyway.

I don't think I did anything Wednesday or Thursday or Friday. Nothing except work and sleep and go to this one place called Boston's right up the road from my hotel. They have good beer, and great food. I could almost see myself hanging out there all the time, except it's a little too bright, and the people are just a little too focused on the sports constantly playing on the televisions. I could never completely fit in there, but it'll do in a pinch.

Wait, maybe it was Friday night that I went to this Slo Pitch bar. It was kind of a dive, but the weirdoes there were more like my kind of weirdoes.

And Saturday morning it was nice outside so I drove to Mt. Baker. At least I attempted to. It was cloudy, and I never did see that mountain. Still haven't, actually. And I wasn't going to climb to the top anyway, being dressed as I was and old as I am. But I did drive up a few thousand feet, well above the snowline. It was very pretty up there.

When I got back to Bellingham Saturday afternoon, it was raining again. So I just dicked around and checked out a couple of bars and a brewpub. Nothing special.

Then Sunday morning I drove to the water. The Northern end of Puget Sound. Once again, everything was all very pretty. It was very tempting, both Saturday and Sunday, to stop my car every few feet and take a picture. But I didn't do that. I just took a few pictures. Nothing obsessive.

Then Sunday afternoon I went to this Archer's Ale House place. They had a pretty good beer selection, and I talked to a fellow beer snob for an hour or so. He recommended about a dozen more places for me to visit while I'm in Western Washington.

And nobody cares. And I barely care myself.

Sixty-nine days to go...

...to my sister Dina!

Wish I could have been there for it.

Back when I started this thing - call it a blog or a journal, I don't really care - the purpose was very different than it's been lately. Back then, it was just something I did so that people (my sisters, mainly) would know that I had a life; that I didn't spend my life sitting in a dark closet, sucking my thumb and rocking fore and aft.

More recently, of course, this thing has been used primarily to whine about my life and the lack thereof.

Well, I'm not going to say that I'm not going to whine anymore. That would be a lie. I guarantee that I'll whine again, and probably sooner than later. But not tonight.

For the next 10 weeks, I'll be gone from that thing that I've been using instead of a life. I'm out of touch, despite the occasional email or text message, and I'm also out of sync. The three-hour difference in time zones sucks. It means that, for example, it's 10:00 PST as I type this in Bellingham, but back home all of the people I care about are already asleep.

I miss my friends and family, and I suppose that's to be expected.

Okay, a lot of people already know this. I'm leaving. I'm going to Bellingham, Washington, off all places, for ten weeks.

It's a work thing. I wish I knew more about it than that, but I really don't have any details. They looked at my resume, and asked me to get my ass up there.

I leave Tuesday morning, and I come back on the 30th of January. Maybe that doesn't seem like that long to some of you, but for me it's going to be an eternity.

Here are the things that I'm going to miss:

My sister Dina's birthday.
LaptopGirl's birthday.
Thanksgiving.
My Nephew Gehrid's birthday.
The Saturnalia beer festival at Rich O's.
OddlyFamiliarGirl's birthday.
HatGirl's 30th birthday. (This makes me saddest of all.)
Christmas Eve and Christmas.
New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.
And probably some other stuff that I can't think of right now.

Oooooh, but I'll be home for Groundhog Day, so that makes it all better. Not.

Today I'm just sad. I've been trying to get over it. I've been trying to conjure up even the tiniest smidgen of excitement about this. I've been unsuccessful. Maybe when it's inevitable, like when I'm on the plane Tuesday morning, I'll at least be able to accept it.

I hope it's a fun job. And I hope I have a good time, despite my misgivings.

Since I didn't do jack shit today to get ready, tomorrow I've got a bazillion things to do.

Right now I'm getting ready to go have dinner, with a girl I'm going to miss much more than I'm allowed. I hope I can snap out of this funk for a few hours. She needs cheer in her life.