The Rhinoceros Pub, Missoula, MT.
Going ahead and having another pint; I may need to take a long slow stroll in the river before heading out of town, but I just had to stop here and get a pint and a t-shirt. I don’t even remember when I was here last but it must have been more than four years ago.
On tap: Harvest Moon “Pigs Ass Porter.” And “Trout Slayer.” And “Fresh Bongwater Hemp Pale Ale.” “Moose Drool Brown Ale.”
I went to the fly fishing shop, but I decided I don’t really think of myself as a “Trout Slayer.”
Not a lot of people hanging around the pub this afternoon — it’s around 3PM now, mountain time.
Just exchanged some emails about my relationship. I know I want a life partner. I know I could have kids and be happy with them but I also know it’s not one of my huge life goals.
And I keep getting the impression that I need to be looking around at Burning Man to see if this woman exists — my vision of “hiking woman.” Some hip, fun gal who prefers hiking to rave parties, who likes camping, who’s really fun to flirt with on the phone. But she might not even be there.
The job situation I suppose I should mention, still sucks in a big way. I need someone smart to work with. Someone to answer the occasional question and help me through it, not just fix it from afar. I need a hotshot at C#/ASP.NET and a good programmer besides — is there even such a creature?