Soulmate:
A person, espcially of the opposite sex, with whom some one has a deeply personal relationship.

How many people have actually found theres? How many have found their only through the magic of the internet? How many have known their for years before coming to this realization?
I'd thought I knew mine years and years ago... I was just a kid. I was wrong.

The first time I saw my soulmate I knew there was something... I could feel it. We talked a bit, and I could feel an extremely strong pull towards her. Then one day I saw a picture of her, and I was instantly thrown back when I used to dream. Not just any dreams, years ago I could dream the future.
Of course, I would never suspect this intense, lucid dreams could ever come true. But every dream that did had a certain feel to it...the color was off-tint, or the image was grainy, tricks of photography before I knew a thing about it.

This particular dream, however, was not really a dream. I was wide awake, and reading a book of the celtic pantheon. I was sitting on the couch... it was late. Me and my girlfriend had broken up for the 3rd or 4th time, and the couch was my bed.
And I was sitting on the couch, reading about Brigit (Brighid/Bride/Breyid/etc...) and suddenly the book was gone, the couch was gone, the apartment was gone, and the January weather had turned into a beautiful spring day.

I stood on a hill, about 100 yards out, trees formed a circle around the hill and stood as far as I could see. Within the circle, was only the hill,
me and short, deep green grass. Below where the sun rose, there was an opening in the trees, and a path that followed the circle a short ways.
I looked around for the longest time, and then she emerged along the path. Long, flowing dress; beautiful hair pinned against her head, leaving some curls to dangle down; the beautiful face of a goddess. She followed the path until it ended, then walked (well, it was more like
she floated, really) towards the hill, towards me.
She moved very slowly, very elegantly. My eyes never left hers, and her eyes remained locked on mine. By the time she reached me, the sun had reached it's zenith. And we stood there, looking into each others eyes.

Whenever I dream in the first person, it's always a nightmare. This dream was different, I was calm and releaxed and grew moreso as I listened to all her eyes had to say.

The sun was nearing the tips of the trees behind us. She lifted her hand, and held it just above my chest. And as the lower edge of the sun touched the trees behind me she, expressionless, placed her hand against me heart.

Ice. Pain. Suffocation.
I leaped off the couch, breathing heavy as my heart pounded so hard I could hear it. I stuck my hand under my shirt, and touched where the dream woman touched me, it was as if one small area of my chest had been frozen.

I've never had a prophetic dream since then. I had assumed this was a vision of the goddess, Brigit. And had no idea what any of this meant. But I waited, and searched, for something to make sense of this.

Then I saw the picture. The hair is different, but the face is identical. As near as I can tell, the picture was taken in the same year as the dream... possibly around the same time.

Is this an intervention of fate? Was it a warning that she would destroy my heart?
Why do I feel that this woman is my soulmate? Mind, body and spirit... I know this is true.
But there's always the chance that this is all coincidence, an unfortunate roll of the cosmic dice.

Do I risk everything, and hope that my intuition is correct and pray that we belong together? Or back away, leave her to her own life, never to look back?
Both paths lead to a great deal of pain, for both of us. Both paths are remarkably easy to travel. Both paths can lead to eventual happiness or eventual regret.

The evils of shag carpeting
If you're ever playing with your cat, and he runs away, don't chase him down on all fours. There's a good chance you'll give youself one hell of a rugburn.
I have a difficult time wearing long pants, the rugburn area is in the process of turning a greyish green color, and application of any kind of pain reliever causes more pain than it stops.

When I was a kid, rugburns were funny and/or cool.
Now I'm considering amputation.

For the second time this year, my car has been damaged.
As if the first time wasn't bad enough...
I was waiting for a schoolbus to dump off a million little buggers. I looked in my rear view mirror. Said to myself, "I'm going to be hit." Then I was hit... so were the two cars in front of me.
It took two months to get my car fixed.

Yesterday, my doorbell rings. It's the neighbor lady and one of her octuplets.
"That's your red car on the street, right?"
I thought one of her six million kids rode their bike into it or something, no biggie, it's a 12 year old Civic...
"I sorta backed into it."
After looking at it, I can't even imagine how fast she must have been going!
It's only the front driverside fender that's damaged, but it's the priciple of it. It seems like I'd just gotten the massive damage fixed... the car's looking better than it has in years... then boom.

I have a friend, Kevin, that used to be in an accident every 6 months... he'd gone through 6 cars while I've known him.
He's been hit by snow plows making unsignaled right turns from the left lane; by college girls "merging" into traffic; old ladies making right hand turns from cross traffic, against the light; he's even been hit by a deer (yes, the deer hit him, not the other way around).
He's not been in an accident in a while... I pray his curse hasn't been transfered over to me.

"The God has been given a bad name by 2,000 years of patriarchal hyperbole that has strayed far off the path that Jesus allegedly once preached. Religious institutions have transformed the male conception of Diety into a wrathful being whose followers have wiped out entire civilizations and destroyed hundreds of cultures; a God in whose name millions of persons have been killed in holy wars; a God whose representatives have repeatedly stated that Diety is not female and that women cannot possibly achieve a rapport with the Divine to the extent that they should be allowed to be priests; a male Diety ruling over a male-oriented world in which men have long use dreligion as an excuse to dominate, subdue and abuse women."

--Scott Cunningham, 1993

"We're only immortal for a limited time"

Saturday night, the trio of gods from my childhood were in town. And this may very well have been the last time they set foot near Chicago.
I speak of Rush, the greatest musical sensation the world over.
The seats we had were not prime... but they were close.

It's amazing how the people you grew up worshiping change... age.
Geddy and Alex looked like my grandparents, and Neil just looked like a poorly dressed rastafarian.
But as they've aged, it's obvious that their talents have grown.

I'm not a regular concert goer. I don't get up and dance, I don't scream at the top of my lungs. But as Rush performed, it seemed as if none in the audience were able to resist their musics awesome power. I sang along (not nearly as loud as that drunk guy behind me)... I even wiggled my hips a little.

I watched them on the stage, and the close ups on the three big screens, and tears came to my eyes. I'd seem them in concert before, but this might be the last time for that, so the rumor mill says.

Geddy Lee (aka Gary Liebowitz) has always been the one I regard with the most respect. He plays bass, I used to play bass. He sings wonderfully, I sing like a trash compactor... we're like twins. In fact, back in high school my friends said I looked like him (as did a certain girl back when I worked at Toys R Us).

Alex Lifeson, for me, is the lesser of the three gods. Not that he's not an extremely important member, not that I don't completely admire his sense of humor... but I just don't connect with him for some reason. I'll always worship him, just not with as much vigor as the other two.

Neil Peart is the real man behind the band He writes the lyrics, and plays the drums. Drums are probably my least favorite instrument. boom boom boom... not very exciting. However, Neil's drum solo is nothing short of amazing. Thanks to big screens, we got some nice close-ups of his arms flailing about while his facial expressions did not give the appearance of intense concentration, but rather that he was thinking, "hmm... I'm feeling rather pekish, I sure could go for a light snack."

The highlight of the show was... well... there really were no highlights, nothing could have topped seeing them perform live.
But the biggest lowlight... oh, there were lowlights, all right... was the two extremely large, pimpled, lesbians in front of me. All over each other during the first half of the show (I had the mispleasure of seeing their tongues groping for each other), and the second half they were all over some guy and an 18 year old boy.
I kept having to turn around to see the beautiful girl standing behind me just to get the visions out of my head.

Then there was the guy standing behind me who kept slapping me on the back saying, "Are these guys great, or what?"
After several times I finally just said, "No, I just came for the $7 beer."

And then there was the trun fan who was a few rows behind me... during the guitar solo he yelled, "you rock Neil!" *sighs*

I find it amazing that Rush can still manage to fill a huge stadium like the Tweeter Center (don't you just hate corporate America) when their airplay is extremely limited.
This should be all the proof that you need that they are gods!

Seriously, if you get the chance... see them. This may be their last tour, and when you finally come to realize the wonderment of this trio... it will be too late.

The Lovecraft Tales pt. 1

This week, I was going over the character sheets to make sure they had all the skills that were reqired of them, when I came across a piece of paper stuck to the back of his sheet. It seems to be a poem, or maybe a twisted metaphor, about me. It's somewhat embarressing to admit that one of my players thinks about me in this way and maybe this is part of his disinterest in the game... I don't know.
But I think I should share with you all what my adoring player truly thinks of me. This poem is untitled.

Monkey's throw poop
Rich is a monkey
Rich throws poop

Poop smells
Rich throws poop
Rich smells

Goats smell
Rich smells
Rich blows goats

I think it's wonderful that my friends think so highly of me. But, perhaps, next time I see him I shall snap his neck like a dry twig.

Voicemail: Hi Richard, this is Mike at Flexistand. Got some problems, can you give me a call by 3 or 3:30, we might be closing. I look forward to your call.
Me: Shit *dials hurriedly*
Mike: Flexistand, this is Mike.
Me: What do you mean you might be closing??!!
Mike: huh?
Me: The message you JUST left said you might be closing.
Mike: It's Friday, it's beautiful outside, we want to go home.

The things I do can severly hurt huge corporations like Hewlett Packard. I can destroy small ones with a single keystroke. The next bozo that calls me saying they "might be closing" without adding "early" or "for the day" and makes me think I've destroyed yet another business pays for my bypass.

More about me than you probably want to know

"You're not a megalomaniac," she said to me.
Maybe she's right... I don't know. I know what I feel. Nothing more.

Megalomania: a mental disorder characterized by delusions of grandeur.

These delusions don't involve me directly, but rather they are for my daughter. A daughter that doesn't even exist (or maybe did, once).
Somehow, I know that if I were to father a girl, in the years of her life she would become a goddess.
Ok, this means I must define what I believe gods and goddesses to be.
They are nothing more than people, just like you and I. But they have some extraordinairy ability, or perhaps have helped lots and lots of people.
Two modern people that could be considered for this position in the future: Mother Therea and Lady Di. Of course Diana died tragically, so would probably attract more worshippers.
Neither of these two did anything none of us could do, yet they are the most important people to thousands of us. In a hundred years will there be offerings left for them? Actually... there already are.

If I were to ever have a daughter... somehow I know that she would do something similar. Maybe all she'd do is save one person from a horrible fate. Maybe she'd live in a crystal castle on the moon, protected by the four Watchtowers, while washing down sparkling cheese with silver wine.
The truth is, I don't know, but there's someone out there to whom she would mean everything to.

I should also point out that I've mostly given up on this happening...
For some reason every woman I've ever been even mildly attracted to has no desire to have kids. Even M is bit reluctant.
I'm fine with this now, sure I still want this, but would be happier to spend my life in the arms of a loving woman, then trying to fulfill an insane self-proclaimed prophecy.

Everyone else has a food story....

Almost every day, I bring a sandwich to work. Usually, if I can, it's ham and cheese on rye (with mustard).
This week, it's nasty balogna. I didn't feel like waiting at the huge line at the deli, so I just grabbed some Oscar Mayer (the crappiest of all deli meats).
The thing about Oscar Mayer is that in order for you to eat it, you need to smother it in some kind of flavor sauce. For me, it has to be mustard.

The problem this week is that I'm using dry, two week old bread. So there's crumbs everywhere, and often stuck to my face because I always forget to shave, and the crumbs and my stubble act as velcro. So, I come back from lunch and I look like a thin Santa Claus. It's quite embarressing.

Just for the record. I don't like food... eating is a huge waste of my time. If I could so something else, I will. Or if I can do something while I eat thats ok too. I'll go out to dinner only if I'm sure I can have a decent conversation with whoever I'm with.
However...
I've tried eating healthy lately. I've actually been making dinner for myself almost every night (not just something out of a box to nuke in the mircrowave, like usual). And why?
This is all for M. Hell, I don't even know if I'll get to see her again (it's so rare as it is). But if I do, I want to look at least moderately healthy for her.

Notice how it always comes back to her?

M called me at work today.
That's no surprise, she calls every day.
These last few days, though, she's been getting a little more... hmm, what's the word I'm looking for... rambunxious.
Basically, she's trying to get me to do phone sex... while I'm at work and anyone can walk by and here what I'm saying. And I know that the guy in the desk next to me can hear.
I'd said a few things, was turning a bright red from the embarressment, and was feeling rather... ummm... arroused.
I was in the middle of saying something that office phones probably weren't meant to transmit, when I got interupted buy the gay philipino guy. He wanted me to go fix Kim's computer... Kim, the 17 year old girl who just started.
Red faced, and with a tent pitched in the front of my pants I walked over there... this was the longest walk I've ever had to make. The look of horror on her face as the "dirty old man" came to fix her computer was... well... priceless.
Still, I think I've gone through enough embarressement to last until well after I retire.

My ISP, lovely attbi.com, had my internet service down for 6 hours tonight.
I was supposed to talk to some people around 7... never made it. I was hoping to see my "mystery woman" as she's been named... don't know it she was around or not.
The internet service was down because they were "upgrading equipment." But now everthing is slower, more lag... I tried to d/l a 10MB file... it took over a minute! That's insane!!

Speaking of the mystery woman (who shall for evermore be known as "M")... The Pope told me he dreamt about me and my mystery woman. I find it odd that some weirdo 1/2 way around the world who's met me twice, briefly, is dreaming about me.
Does this mean he's gay? Cuz, he's not that unattractive... I could learn.
Ok, I'm joking... I'm NOT gay. Promise.

----------

A drunk man in Chicago ran into a woman and killed her last night.
An angry mob saw this, and beat the hell out of the guy. There were no arrests made, aside from the drunk guy.
I would hope that none of the witnesses gave their names... it'd be a shame to see them tied up in some stupid lawsuit.

I feel the need to write oodles more... but I'm afraid that will have to wait. I need sleep.

Shit. That's what I feel like.
Ever have someone you care about more than anything just turn their back on you and leave?
No "goodbye," no "see you later," no "I'm mad." Nothing, not a damn thing.

And what did I do? I don't know.
I can guess, it could be a few things... maybe all of them together. But when it comes right down to it, I don't know, so I'll probably do it again.
This is what I get for loving someone who will never say what she wants. "Please stay with me instead of going out with your friends." Is that too hard to ask? Maybe I'll stay, maybe I won't. Either way, I'll know she cares about me. If I go out anyway, I'll make it up... big time.

But to just walk away... I wonder if she really does care.
I love her... she knows it. She's never made this declaration, but she does care a lot. How could you hurt someone like this, deliberately, if you care about them? My heart is torn by this. Half wants to yell and scream and hit... the other half wants to cry and hold her and kiss her face forever as an apology.
Obviously, I will not hit. I am already crying. I can't hold her, or kiss her. This leaves yelling and screaming, but in the end I doubt I'll do that. I'll just ask two questions.
Why?
And will you come back?

Here it is Saturday afternoon...
The first turn of the email game I'm running was sent out about 15 hours ago. No serious problems... everyone currently thinks the next turn will be generated about 5 days before it really will, that's not too bad.
The server is supposed to take the emails that people send and pull out their address it can send replies to them. For some reason two people that signed up don't have legitimate email addresses, so it just keeps getting returns on everything they send. If I send them something from here, I get it back too. Which means the server might be truncating their address, but we can't figure out why.

---------------

I went to bed at about 2AM... woke up at 6AM thanks to a very nice saleperson whom I was very rude to. Couldn't get back to sleep, and eventually got an incredibly bad headache... almost a migraine, but not quite.
To get my mind off of it, I played CL for a few hours. If it were a migraine this never would have worked, because with a migraine there is only the wish for death.
Migraines are my #1 reason for knowing I'll never own a gun. The pain is so great, that I'd probably just kill myself to get rid of it. Especially when it's the kind where I just start puking all over the place. Of course I could easily go to the kitchen and get a knife... or drown myself in the bathtub. But both of these require too much effort, and would cause more pain that I don't want in the first place.

I've learned how to get rid of a migraine in just a few hours... sadly migraine tricks don't work on everyone. It involves trying to sleep and bright light. For most people (even me) any light is too intense during a migraine, so how this works I don't know. But I have that horrible, disgusting post-migraine feeling for days after... which is better than 5 minutes of death-defying pain.

Strangely, when I have a migraine, there's one thing I need... and I need it bad. Sex. As soon as I can. This didn't used to be a problem, since I had a girlfriend... but since we broke up it's been rough.
Ok, so I have a migraine, I gotta get laid. The problem with this is that during this kind of sex, the headache gets about 1000 times worse. And after sex it's about 10,000 times worse.
It's really my absolute worse nightmare, and someday might turn my entire sex life into some horrible Clockwork Orange parody.

So, it ended up not being a migraine (which is good, because I hate bugging the neighbors), and I ended up cleaning the bathroom. I must admit, sometimes intense pain is preferred...

I'd like to give Mr. NoSuch a big ol' thanks for upgrading this blog into the 21st century.
Sadly, all comments that were made had to be lost in the transition, so don't forget to comment often to make up for it!

Shamless plug:
For those who haven't looked at the links on the right (-->)
I run an email game. I didn't design it, or do any real work on it... I'm like management, not understanding what anything is, but telling people that they're doing it wrong.
I've spent the last several days preparing for a new game that will be starting. A local game store is kind of sponsoring it, they promised me 100s of players, so we generated a huge map (and by we I mean someone else, not me), and let the store send out emails to their customers and put links on their website. Of course, we let them do this all theirselves...
So far, thanks to the stores massive advertising, we've gotten about 20 players, this includes the 16 from the current game I'm running.
So I posted a tiny add on a tiny newgroup about this game... overnight we were up to 15 people with questions about the particulars of the game... I was dumbfounded, because I had no idea what they are talking about. This caused both me and my sole employee (Rob) to go searching through lines and lines and lines of code looking to answer the questions they asked, and change things for the better. Neither of us no a thing about c++, the code is not documented at all, and it's a royal pain in the ass.
This is how I've spent most of my time lately...
The worst part is that since I'm running the game, and have access to all kinds of juicy information, I can't play. This would cause most of the players to drop out as soon as I did something that remotely seemed like I was cheating.
So what's my reward in all this? It's not my program, I can't really charge people to play, and if I did, I'd get far fewer players since others run this for free.
Ah... there lies my diabolical scheme. Once this game is started we take a short break and begin working on our own game, one that only we have access to, and can charge people a minimal fee to play.
I've already got the basics of this new one mapped out on paper and in my head. I think it will be interesting to see just how it works out in
reality, though I still haven't talked about it with my programmer guy (who won't even look at the crappy c++ code I've been pouring through lately).

What's this game like?
Well think of it as an online role playing game where things only happen once a week. And instead of controling one person, you control an entire army. The options which you can give a faction are quite vast. You can be a city conquering war-monger, a whole group of peaceful farmers or entertainers, you can be explorers out to map the world, you can attempt to control all the magics of the world... plus so much more, or you can mix all that stuff up how you want and be something completely unique. Enemies and Alliances will bring out the best and worst in your men...

I've seen people that take 15 minutes a week for their turn, and others take as much as 10 hours. It all depends on what you want out of it.
So c'mon, join up. It'll be fun.

At the time of this posting the numbers of jumped from 35 players to 65... If I can just get to 100 by Friday at Midnight CST I'll be happy.

This is my life lately... pretty boring, huh?

Well, the talk of the town lately has been the movie Minority Report, so I had to see it, despite the fact that this movie has an admitted scientologist.
If anyone were to call me prejudiced, it would be against scientologists. Anyone that would give their cash to that money-grubbing organization is a fool.
Give it to me, and I can brainwash you into thinking your happy too.
Of course now someone will find me locked up in a scientologist box until I make a public apology for this. Death first!

I've heard nothing but good things about this movie. And I naturally had my hopes up. And for the most part it was a good movie, it just wasn't that great.
Like Cruise's performance in Magnolia... everyone raved about it, but I tell you right now, anyone can pant like a dog better than he can. His performance in Magnolia was embarrassing, to say the least.

He did a much better job in MR, even though I don't think he did much acting.
If you don't know, the premise is that they can see the future and stop murders before they happen. I should have suspected that the movie would just be a Star Trek time paradox story line. How could he have killed a man if he hadn't known he would do it... it's not possible! If I want to see a fucking paradox story, I'll go watch the first season ST: Voyager.

Anyway, the movie was kind of enjoyable, even if there were no fabulous babes in it. They've almost written out a chance of a sequal, but you know Hollywood....

See this movie... it's good, just don't get your hopes up or you'll be sorely disappointed.
It is infinitely better than M2M, a must see.

For those who don't know. I love cartoons.
And when I heard that The Powerpuff Girls was making a movie I couldn't be more excited.
But, sadly, no one I could think of wanted go... would I have to go see a movie all by myself? Never have I done such a thing!
SingularGirl to the rescue! About a month ago, she asked if I wanted to go see it with her, of course I said yes, I don't dare go to a movie like that alone! People might think I'm... wierd.

The movie FINALLY opened up on the 3rd. We went out for a nice lunch of burgers (topped with a fried egg), before seeing the movie.
I'm one of those people that thinks I need to be at the theater a full hour before showtime... just in case. And when there was only 20 minutes left to go, I tried to maintain my cool, and did so poorly.
Even getting there 10 minutes before showtime... we were the first arrivals.
Most people showed up as the pre-show Dexter's Laboratory was playing. I'd say a total of about 30 people were in the theater... only 4 of those were male.
The Powerpuff Girls Movie was exactly what one might expect. A 90 minute Powerpuff Girl cartoon. The subject of the cartoon is the events leading up to the superheroindom of the girls. From their creation (sugur, spice, everthing nice, PLUS a little mishap with chemical X) to the point when the residents of Townsville accept the girls for who they are.

It's no secret that if Blossom was a few years older, I would make it my mission in life to marry her. Sadly, the 29 year age difference is just too much for me, even when she becomes "legal."

I swear I heard Singular snoring often during the movie. She'd never seen the show, and only wanted to see the monkey, Mojo Jojo. She swears she wasn't snoring, and it was only the effect of her cleft pallet... whatever that means.

As for me... I loved the movie. And on the Taliesin movie rating scale: The Powerpuff Girls Movie is infinitely better than Mission to Mars! A must see.

I wrote a peom long, long ago. I think it goes along with my theory that repitition is good. I call it, "There's Nothing Much Worse..."


There's nothing much worse
Than mopping up blood
In a room full of gore

There's nothing much worse
Then the blood of your bud
In a room full of gore

There's nothing much worse
Than the head of your bud
Staring back from the floor

There's nothing much worse
Than mopping up blood
In a room full of gore

Nice, huh? I went through a poetic stage in my life. I wrote a poem about Velveeta. Sadly, I've lost all copies of it. All I remember is this one verse:


Veveeta, hey, Veveeta, hey
To eat some is bliss
Veveeta, hey, Veveeta, hey
It's what my tummy shall always miss


The rest of it was classic, at least I think it was. I'm sure someday long after I'm dead, someone will be going through my things and find that poem. Shortly after, they'll find bricks of imitation cheese piled above my grave.

Of course, not all my poems were quite so fun. I started writing a few poems because of something very horrible. I've only ever let one person read this poem, and I believe she was unaware of the significance of it because I hid it in a game. I've no idea why I'm going to share this with all you folks, but I'm going to. In the 10+ years this has existed, I've never put a title to it, you'll just have to deal with that.


I watched a bloody soul
Spill out from the heavens
In her mangled disfigurement
She graced my presence

Her lips made to speak
But she uttered no sound
Her eyes spoke of memories
Through a deep golden brown

I was with her that night
On the moss covered ground
As he sucked out her life
While I watched as she drowned

I still watch for her ghost
In my heart and my dreams
And when I wake in the night
My ears echo her screams

Her bloodied soul falls
From the heavens each day
While I watch and I cry
With my head held in shame

Yesterday I went to an arena football game. The Chicago Rush vs the New York Dragons.
Granted, I'm no sports fan. I'll watch golf if I want to take a nap on a Sunday afternoon, but that's about it.
Our seats (given to us by Allstate, since they sponsor the stadium, my friend Paul gets them really cheap) were not even worth the $12 we paid. I think we got ripped off. Second row from the back... nosebleed seats. When the airplanes flew over we could feel the whole building shake (seriously, the arena is very near the airport).
The players looked like ants, and we all wished we'd brought binoculars to keep a close eye on those cheerleaders, so the game wasn't all that great to watch.
For those who don't know, arena football is played indoors, on a 50 yard field, there are no sidelines, and the ball can be bounced against the walls if the player thinks that might make a good pass.
As near as we could tell (8 of us went to this wonderous event). The team that has the ball WILL score, unless the ball is intercepted.
And in the first 1/2 NY interecepted the ball 3 times!! At that point the score was something like 33 to 13.
But we showed them, yes we did! Chicago turned around and did the same thing right back at them. The final score was something like 54 to 39.
We all agreed that we'd go again, in a large group of people with a lot more beer.
The most exciting part was leaving the parking lot. Someone in an SUV was being shy, and not ramming his car up to the next guys bumper. So everyone kept sneaking in front of him. And every time he got "cut off" he'd honk his horn for about a minute. We got in front of him, and by the time we left the lot there were twelve cars between us.
I hate SUVs. It always seems, the dumber the driver the taller the car. Around here, SUV drivers are always on the phone, using their hands to talk, and just not paying attention to the road. Of course, they complain about the high gas prices the most, and they're so high because all the SUVs guzzle it down like it were... well... gasoline.
If I ever buy a new car, it'll be one of those hybrid things... 80 miles to the gallon is nothing to sneeze at (and if you did, you'd certainly wipe it off).
But, I'm opposed to paying more than $5000 for a new car. They're expected to last 5 years, and cost $20k, yet my new refridgerator is expected to last 20 years and was less than $500. At that rate, my $1200 stove should last, what, about 8 years... possibly longer since I don't cook.

Ya know, I think back and wonder if I was actually going somewhere with this, or if I just started with nonsense and went on a tangent from there.
Oh, well, this is all you get to read. Disappointed?

"Why do you love me?"
She asked this of me the other day. Sadly, this is a question I cannot answer.

What is it about a person that makes you love them? Physical, mental, and spiritual attraction, of course. But you can feel these things for a person and not be in love. Love is something that we humans (and a few other critters of this world) can absorb and hold onto, but the concept of it truly escapes us.

For me, love is the desire to be one with another. To be joined... to feel what she feels, know what she knows. To be joined forever into one being which hold two people together.
Of course this is impossible. The most one could hope for in this is a few short moments of oneness while making love (and by this I mean real, true love making, not just a quick fuck that happens by "accident").

But this doesn't explain WHY I love her.
I sit here forever thinking about it. I cannot think of why.
She is the most beautiful person I've ever known. Her voice is wonderful. Her skin, softer than silk. She gives off a wonderful aroma. And the taste of her lips and skin is like ambrosia.
She is intelligent and thought provoking. She gives me things to think about (like this very question), even if it's often at inopportune times.
She gives me a sense of being. The feeling that I belong on this world.

All these things I know, and so much more... but it does not explain why I love her. What I feel goes beyond all these things, beyond what any words can describe.

Does anyone know why we love? What can I tell her?
The only answer I have is, "I don't know." And that's not good enough for her. She deserves a reason. But then, someone like her deserves so much more than I could ever give.