Why does alcohol make me want to write?  Ours is not to reason why, ours is just to do and die.  “There are eight million stories in the Naked City, and this is one of them.” 

Well, now there are over seven billion people on Earth.  I once proposed this idea to Jim, one of my best therapists ever:  Because God is pure spirit (energy), it is possible that He derives His greatest happiness by living through us.  In other words, our Creator, being omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent–might live through all seven billion of us every moment of every day.  Jim said that’s a profound idea, but that I should be careful with whom I share it–since it’s so radical. 

Well anyway, you get to live my life tonight (could be better, but could also be worse).  After sleeping off my psych meds, I eat dinner with the Singletons at a Japanese restaurant.  The food is delicious, and the service good, but I soon find that our waitresses are Chinese–after saying “thank you,” in Japanese (“Arigatou”), and they don’t understand me.  Then I ask our main waitress how to say “thank you” in Chinese, and learn that’s it’s something like, “Chieh, chieh!”  So I practice it every chance I get–I love languages–all languages!

Delbert shows up, but he mentions he’s going to see “The Avengers” after dinner, with some friends.  And (showing my age) I find that the movie is not based on the TV series featuring “Emma Peel”–but on a comic strip that began long before that featuring the “Hulk” and “Captain America”.

After dinner (and several beers), I ask our main waitress if she’d like to have dinner with me sometime.  She agrees, though I’m not sure she completely understands me.  So I write my number and email address on a card, and give it to her.  Though at least a head shorter than I, she’s very cute, and seems sweet–so I hope she’ll call me.

Upon returning home, I smell cigarette smoke in the living room–left by the woman next door the other day, when she asked for the number to report a power outage (our entire grid lost electricity, despite the fact that it was a beautiful day, and not windy at all–I’ve never lost power so many times as I have here in Pensacola, Florida).  And I crave a cigarette of course.  But I restrain myself from getting off the wagon, remembering the horrible cough that made me quit smoking twice.  And I have six cups of Irish coffee (Bailey’s Irish Cream mixed with coffee), while listening to 16th Century German folk music on my stereo. 

If I keep this up, I’ll end up in Gimcrack Hospital (see my blogroll)!  And after that, I decide to write a post.  I try several times to write my password correctly, but fail!  Finally, I get it right–and though my head is spinning (of course), damned if I’m going to quit now!

At one point, I consider posting photos of some beautiful Chinese women of which I know–starting with Violinist Sarah Chang.  But then I realize that, though I have posted photos of Western- classical-music vocalists.  I’ve never posted any photos of lovely instrumentalists and dancers.  So here I go:

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