The first time was Friday. I've already mentioned how those particular plans fell apart as quickly as they'd been made. Too many things to do, in too short of a time period. I fell short.

The second time was Saturday night. Those plans never really had a chance to form. It became too late before it ever really became feasible.

Tonight was the third time.

So, I missed her. I wanted to see her.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel those things, or write those things.

The feeling them part is involuntary and constant. May as well ask me to stop breathing.

The part about writing about those things is a little different. But I feel like I gave up a huge chunk of my dignity, a couple of months ago, to give myself the right to express those feelings without them being greeted with shock or outrage.

Anyway, like I said, tonight was the third time.

And, as the saying goes, third time's a charm.

It was really nice.

After I went back to Polly's to get Happy his milkshake, I took a fairly long nap. See, there was a .000427% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, and I wanted to be refreshed.

Then at 7:30 or so I went to Rich O's.

It was pretty crowded, mostly with strangers. I ordered a Marzen (5133) and stood at the end of the bar for a while. TremensGirl was there, in an actual dress. That's why I didn't recognize her at first. Also, StoreGirl and her husband NotBill were there. I hadn't seen them in a very long time.

After a while some dorks left the bar so I went and sat there. I had a little pizza. TremensGirl offered me the throne but I declined. There's a limit to my sociability, and there was this one dipshit on the sofa who is way beyond that limit.

Anyway, these two drunk old women came in and sat at the kiddie table. I'd guess they were between 50 and 150 years old. Hard to tell as they were both made up like prostitutes. As luck would have it, they both immediately started trying to engage me in conversation, so I picked up my shit and moved to the recently-vacated island.

What happened next was that StoreGirl and NotBill came over and joined me, and for some reason they invited the old women over as well.

Grrrr.

So our new "friends" managed to slur out that they'd both just gotten divorced, and that they were looking for a good time. I shivered for about 10 minutes and then managed to shoot off a couple of flares in the form of emails begging for rescue.

No rescue ever came, and I was getting pretty sick of being leaned on and having my arm touched. I was just about to get rude and pick up my shit and move back to the bar, but instead NotBill had a great idea. He and I started telling the old women about all the other great bars around. I think they ended up going to Sluttopia.

Oh yeah, at about the time I ordered my second Marzen (5150) my hot girl sensors overloaded. I looked at the door, and it was ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl! I bounced over and gave her a hug, and looked for the other half of TeamHotness, UnbearablyHotSingleGirl. But she was nowhere to be seen. I hope they're not fighting.

It was still very cool though. I hadn't seen ImprobablyHotMarriedGirl in months. Unfortunately, they had too many people in their party to be able to join StoreGirl and NotBill and me at the island, so they went out front somewhere.

I came home at 10:00, because I'd stopped drinking after that second Marzen. There was still a .000016% chance that I'd get to do something fun later, after all.

Well, that slim chance eventually dwindled to nothing, but I got to have a little emailathon, and that was very nice.

At the end of the night I had another Marzen (5167) out on my swing and I thought happy thoughts.

Lunch was fun, I suppose. It would have been a lot more fun if LuckyFucker hadn't been constantly trying to pick a fight with HatGirl.

There, I said it. Not like it was a secret or anything. I'm a little bit disgusted.

None of my business, though. I just get protective towards people I care about.

---

Meanwhile, my cat Happy is pouting. I brought what was left of my Diet Coke home from Polly's, and it's in the same kind of cup that 'nanner milkshakes come in. So Happy thought I'd brought home a 'nanner milkshake.

I had to remove the lid and let him smell to convince him it was only Diet Coke.

Now he's inconsolable. I think I'll go back to Polly's and get some 'nanner milkshake for him, the poor thing.

Last time, it took years, and I see no reason for things to be any easier this time around. In many ways it's a lot harder, this time. I'm taking it personally, this time.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades?

I have no way of knowing how long it will take. I find myself constantly overestimating my strengths, and underestimating the obstacles ahead.

Sometimes I get a little tired and discouraged. Tired of the shock and the pain. Discouraged because, this time, there's no clear end - no clear goal. I just plod along and hope that maybe I'll eventually get to a good place.

Weeks was my initial prediction, and that's been proven to be entirely too optimistic. All I know is that, until that wonderful day when this relentless sobbing stops emanating from deep within me, acting normal will be beyond my abilities.

First, there was a surprise lunch invitation. I'll admit it freely - I was very excited about it. I mean, two days in a row!?! I was truly blessed. Or I would have been truly blessed if those lunch plans hadn't fallen apart as quickly as they had formed.

Second, there was dinner with BadPickleGirl. I really had a feeling that she was going to flake on me. We seemed to be making it much harder than it should have been. Well, sure enough, she cancelled at the last minute.

Third, I figured that I'd at least go over to Louisville, see AlliGirl, and check out CoolHairGirl's purple hair.

But noooooooooooooooooo!

They were having some stupid thing in Louisville, and they were charging a cover just to walk down the stupid street.

So, foiled not once, not twice, but thrice, I ended up just coming home. I ate some pizza. I watched Borat. I sat on my swing. I had a Newcastle (10648) and two Marzens (5116). I glared at my phone a lot.

All in all, It was still better than having my legs knocked out from under me and then being repeatedly kicked in the gut.

Anyway, here's a picture I took while peeing at Sam's this afternoon:

The part about .40¢ wings and .99¢ drafts and nachos and mini-cheeseburgers, that's one of my pet peeves. If you don't know why, then I probably think you're an idiot, just like I think the person who made this sign is an idiot.

But at least they've brought back mini football helemets. Good for them.

...if the Republican ticket wins in November, and we end up with millions of men spanking it whenever the new Vice-President is on TV?

I think that would be weird.

I also think Sarah Palin is hot.

VPILF?

Last night I wore a t-shirt that said I'm blogging this across the front. So, rather than be labeled a liar, I'll go ahead and actually write something.

Let's start with Wednesday, I suppose. There wasn't much to Wednesday. I went to Rich O's. At night. So that was something.

Let's see, I sat at the island and talked with some people. I don't remember who. Oh yeah, MusicalYuppieDude was one of them. I remember because he said there was a crazy guy over at the bar. I looked, but I didn't see him do anything crazy. Maybe he got his prescription refilled or something. Oh, and ExBartender was there too.

I had myself a yummy Schlenkerla Marzen (5047). I sent a million email messages. But mostly I watched the door, more out of habit than because of any actual anticipation.

The place was pretty dead, and they kicked everyone out early, so I came home.

Then yesterday I had a nice day, and it gave me enough confidence to go back to Rich O's last night. Wow, two nights in a row. One might almost think that I'm hanging out at Rich O's again. One would be wrong, but it would be an understandable mistake.

Last night, there was some big change... hope... zombie party going on in the special people section. I didn't go in there. In Rich O's proper, the fucking Thursday weirdoes were in full force. I sat at the island and had a little pizza and a Marzen (5064). Spent most of the time talking to PornAddict and SmooshDude.

And for some reason they kept playing techno music all night. That was messed up.

I was really bored, but I stayed for another Marzen (5081) because I wanted to see what LaptopGirl had done to her hair. I thought it looked really pretty, but of course I'm biased.

Then all the change... hope... zombies left the special people section and came into Rich O's proper looking for brains to eat, and I came home. I sat on my swing and had a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (2636) and it was yummy.

Pretty damn exciting, I know. I've got a five-day weekend and I spend the first two nights sitting bored at Rich O's. Maybe tonight will be more interesting. I'm supposed to go hang out with BadPickleGirl for a while, and maybe go see CoolHairGirl's new purple hair.

Then tomorrow I get to have lunch with HatGirl. I'm obviously very excited about that.

Maybe I'll go out of town tomorrow after lunch. Or maybe not.

Damn, I had this vitriolic entry all typed up. The most honest thing I've written in weeks. Maybe months.

All I had to do was proofread it before I posted it.

But I accidentally deleted it instead of saving it in my draft folder. So now it's gone.

Probably for the best. Possibly. Maybe.

The title of this entry is some fucking spam I just got.

One of the things that always happens, is that my senses get so damn overloaded.

I spend all of my energy just trying to remain conscious. I focus so much on seeing that I forget to actually look. I focus so much on hearing that I forget to actually listen.

It's quite annoying, really.

There have been so many conversations that I've missed. Not because I wasn't there, but because I was so enthralled by the sound of a voice that the actual words became white noise. There's been so much beauty that I've failed to appreciate, not because I didn't see it, but because I was so mesmerized that everything became a blur.

It'll get easier, I keep telling myself.

But what do I know anyway. It could just as easily get worse.

I wish others could see what I see, hear what I hear.

Then maybe they could describe those things to me, once I get out of my daze.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that lunch was nice today. I wish I could remember.