Whatever

So... what are we going to talk about? Ever have one of those moods when you seem to really crave telling someone all you have to say, but just can't muster the energy required to write it down? That's me. You know what would be nice right now? A beer with someone that makes me laugh. I guess I've been a bit blaaaa lately and that's not normally me. Whatever. Maybe the problem is that my brain feels like there's so much banging around in there that I can't focus on any one thing long enough to say all about it that I might normally.

My alternative would be to sit here and blather on about "stuff" in my life, a-la "today I had soup for lunch and it was really good soup even though I'm not normally into soup.." blah blah blah, yeah, I'd suffer a narcoleptic episode just writing it, so I can imagine what you'd think reading it. The fact is I've got a ton of things on my mind, from my recent surgery to the one I think I'm going to have to have sooner than I'd thought (and it's got me a little worried, honestly); from trying to get beyond the ex dating the one person to whom I'd object to trying to figure out how to look at women without wondering "when would she fucking leave"; and even what on my "bucket list" I'm going to do next. Eh, I'll figure out something. I suppose what I'd really like is to feel like I belong to more than just what I can do for myself. That sounds stupid, doesn't it? What I mean is, to share; to feel; to be excited about a person again. As it is, I'm excited about what I'm doing for me, sure, but have no one to share those experiences with. You know what I mean. And while I'm excited about those things I've begun, I'm apathetic enough about people to figure no one gives enough of a shit.

Besides, c'mon, we've all seen those blogs that go on and on about general events in the author's life that, since we don't know them, we have a hard time reading. I don't really want to be that kind of blogger, if I can actually make claim to being one in the first place. You want to hear something funny though? I've got dozens of entries in the works that should be all the mediocrity you come here to enjoy; I just lose interest too quickly to finish them.

So let me open up the mailbag, where by "open" I mean holding it open so you can toss your questions in there. Someone help a guy out here. Anyone have a question? Comment? Or perhaps an opinion about how much shit McCain gave Obama for his lack of experience, then turned around and picked a running mate with only marginally more experience than my cat? No? Nothing? Fine, then dare me to do something.

Anyone? Anyone?

Buehler?... Buehler?...

No longer a virgin

So guess where I've been the last couple days?


I'm borrowing the wireless connection from someone who obviously has a generator and believes internet access is a vital necessity. Lucky me.

It's early in the morning Saturday and I'm sitting in a lawn chair in the brick enclosed cubby of my front porch, where I'm almost entirely shielded from Ike, writing this. The rest of the house is sleeping, after having spent the night waiting for the windows to cave in. Everyone's fine, cuz I know you all were supremely concerned, right? Now I can say I've experienced my first hurricane.

Not what you expected from the title, no?