I really couldn't let this blog go a full year without an update, so here it is:

   I'm 20 now, just celebrated a birthday.Too young to drink, but I do anyway. And I smoke. Way too much. I am ashamed. I am still in my undergrad, but will be out soon. I see by my last few entries that I once had a clear idea of what to do with my life. It's kind of funny how something so clear from a distance can seem so obscure up close. Sometimes I get tired of life, but curiosity keeps me going.
   It appears I was in love the last time I blogged. I am not now, and I find that old version of myself beautifully disgusting. It makes me hate that version of myself, which makes me feel like the wretch I am, which makes me hate it even more. That relationship started a bad trend. I dated Bunny Codys, I dated the women no one wanted to date, the kind of women people take for granted. And they were wonderful. And they made me feel wonderful. And after a week it would be terrible, and it was because I was a wretch and they were damaged goods. My last few relationships have gotten ever shorter, and have all met torrid ends. The last one left me for her old boyfriend, who is married. A tempest in a teapot.
   But I saw you the other day, Squash. I had forgotten that I loved you, and that you loved me. I had almost forgotten you entirely, almost. And then poof! You're back. And I instantly felt my soul warming, a feeling I haven't had in a long while. And you keep trying to dislike yourself, which is an insult to me, because I like you so much and you can't convince me otherwise, no matter what. You're my favorite person. You make me want to be more like you, and at the same time make me comfortable with being me. If ever you think you are without power, know that you still have that power over me. I thought you didn't, but you reminded me.
   I think that's all I wanted to say to you the other day, and just couldn't because I just can't talk.
   And one more thing; I still love you, and I think I always will. You're my best friend.

It's long distance, she's three years older, it'll tear my family up, and it can't work, but she's so gorgeous. I haven't felt this wound since I was 15, and I'm so worried and so debased, but she makes me feel so right. It's only been a few chance encounters spread out over a few restless weeks, but it's all there and it drives me insane. It's too early to be sure of anything, but neither time nor my dragging feet have stopped us so far, and I wonder about this and if it means what I want it to mean. Time will tell, and Time owes me one. Goodnight.

My cousin got married this weekend at 23. My sister was 23 too when she got married a year ago. I'm sure Gert is fond of that age. Personally, it's scaring the hell out of me. I'm 19 and I graduate this year, and then I'll be in law school until I'm 22. I'm now going out with a 22 year old who is so cool and so sweet and so fun and so beautiful, but who already laments her encroaching spinsterhood. Something happened to my generation, and somehow we lost the ability to waste time. Now everything's begging me to get done with school, get a wife, get a home, get a job, and get babies. Something happened to my plans, my desires, my great expectations, and now I'm almost abandoning them for the American dream. I guess I am scared more than anything else, scared that my life is over, that I've run out of time. I think I should fight this. If anyone can waste time, it is I, and I think I can do it with her. When she's around me she forgets herself, and I think I can help her forget the rest as well. The rest can wait, especially marriage.I think I just made up my mind; I'm going into the Peace Corps.

   Through some miracle, I'm still okay. My slacking has had no repercussions. In fact I'm graduating early. Only two years for a four year degree. I pointed this out to some of my friends, and they think I'm crazy. Apparently I'm missing out on the best years of my life, not to mention the final years of parental care. Taking these concerns into careful consideration, I have decided to go to law school. This turns the four best years of my life into the five best years of my life, and I'm still not "slacking," even though I am. It's beautiful. Best of all, my father is guaranteed to pay for it, because he's a lawyer and is already fantasizing about our future. Right now he's looking into getting an office to start his own firm. He already has a name and logo picked out. For the sake of anonymity, I won't reveal either, but suffice it to say that they both presuppose my future involvement in this firm. I should probably be concerned about this. My former self would certainly be. After all, shouldn't I control my own destiny? However, I find myself comforted by the notion that I won't have to work and plan. Mostly, it's just nice knowing what I'm going to do. Is there something wrong with that? Am I betraying myself? I don't know, but a man could do worse with his life. 

   UGA fits all of its stereotypes. It's beautiful, everyone's nice, everything is relaxed, and I can get myself in more trouble than anyone deserves. I have slept through more classes than I can remember. By "slept through," I don't mean I went to class and fell asleep. I stayed in bed. Why was I so tired? Because there are parties and concerts and general wastes of time around every corner.

   What's most frightening about all of this is that there are no consequences to this magnificent slacking. I still have straight As. When I am in class, I know what they're talking about. I haven't made less than an A on any test or quiz, even the ones I didn't know about.

   I also did the calculation recently; at my current rate, I'm going to graduate after Spring semester of next year. I just started this Fall. I'll have my degree at 19, which I should think would be awesome, except I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. I should have figured this out years ago, but instead I'm all set to have a degree in Classical Cultures with a minor in Anthropology, and absolutely no future. My dad thinks I should go into Law School, but if I did that, I'd be a lawyer, and then what? Law? Where's the excitement? Where's the travel?

   Of course, my degree puts me right in line for a life of Archaeology. Oh yes! Then I'll have my excitement and adventure and travel and whatnot. But what will I be doing? Digging up bones if I'm lucky. That might do it for some, but I can't see that as a permanent occupation. That won't keep me interested.

   Now that I look back at what I just wrote, I feel kind of silly. I suck at complaining. Basically I'm just pissy because things are set for me to be rich and comfortable for the rest of my life, and I don't want it. Anyone who has it even remotely rough would look at me as a spoiled brat who has run out of problems to complain about and is now just complaining about that. It's like I'm fourteen again.

   Screw it. I'll find something.

   I have been looking over old entries, and have determined that I am a completely different person on this blog than I am anywhere else, and I'm not sure that I really like this version of myself. I only seem to blog under odd circumstances, usually when I'm punch drunk or staying up late (it's almost 1 AM, now), and so this is the only me you see. Normally I'm still pretty crazy, but a happier kind of crazy. Normally I don't think I'm a good poet. Normally I am kind and courteous. But in those few circumstances in which I feel like blogging, all of that changes. The last time I really was myself on this blog was around when I started it in ninth grade, and back then I was always the way I only get when I'm tired, now. I was a weird kid. I will have to remind myself to blog when I'm wide awake and cheerful, so you can see that I am, indeed, sane. mostly.

All                                                                                                                     

Work And

No Play Make

Listener a Dull Boy. 

Went to a party last night, just got home now, took a shower, returning in 15 minutes. Shall repeat tonite/tomorrow morning. Good way to spend three-day weekend. Haven't blogged in a while. Decided to do so now. Was waiting on Gertrude's next entry before composing my own. Looks like I'd have been waiting a while. Strongly encourage said Gert to join in tonite's festivities. Passed around Conga Drum and Guitar, composed poetry. Tried to wax poetic. Ended up making fun of everyone in rhyme. Just as cool. Also played video games, watched Borat, South Park, etc. When sleep? No know. I go now.