The scab.

You know, they say that you get what you deserve. What goes around, comes around.

However, I don't recall knife-raping any retarded nuns.

Look, I know I am no angel. But if I have ever made anyone feel like I feel right now, I would be more than willing to drive to that person's house with flowers and make that person's favorite dinner while apologizing in English, Turkish, Latin and Chinese and then I would write how sorry I was in French and Ottoman.

The scab's been torn off and it hurts like a mothertoucher.

I opened my closet and found my Ouija board exactly like I left it: flung into the corner, where it belongs. I fired up some incense and a chill wind tore through the apartment as I summoned "Frank", who got "all tore up" and forgot to hang his food in a tree and was savaged by a half-ton grizzly.

Me: So, "Frank", tell me about the nature of regret.
"Frank": T...h...e...y...n...e...v...e...r...f...o...u...n...d...m...y...l...i...v...e...r.
Me: So, do you regret going camping? Or do you just regret letting your guard down?
"Frank": Y...e...s.
Me: "Yes", what? Which one? Is what you are saying is that bad things happen to people who don't deserve it? That sometimes you just get the shaft no matter what?
"Frank": A...l...l...o...f...t...h...e...a...b...o...v...e.
Me: Why should I trust people? It only gets me in trouble.
"Frank": Q...u...i...t...c...r...y...i...n...g...y...o...u...g...i....r...l...a...n...d...m...o...v...e...o...n.
Me: I'd be mad at you, but I bet that the process of becoming bear turds really blew.
"Frank": D...a...m...n....s...k...i...p...p...y.

I'd like to be angry. I'd like to be bitter. But in the end, I have come to the conclusion that I have a lot going for me. A great job that I really enjoy. Coworkers, friends and family I would leap onto jagged rocks for. A future. So many don't have that, and I am lucky. But with all that happiness, it makes the effed-up times seem all the more effed-up.

Lower the bar, people! You've all set it too high for me. :) Be mean to me! Make me miserable! Then maybe I won't be surprised at how much some people can make me hurt.

OK, enough of my whining. Off to the bliss of slumber.

Good night, Indiana.

Dom