Oh yeah, Alcohol is a depressant

So if I were being honest, I'm not sure how many times I've driven home with a 0.09 Blood Alcohol Content level. You know, that level where you are pretty buzzed, but can really drive just fine if a deer doesn't pop out in front of you and you're not trying to talk on the phone.

Or, basically, as well as your average chick in an SUV drives while on her damn cell phone. Bitches. ;-)

But I digress.

Or, actually, I don't, because I'm not sure I have a point today. I don't want to whine about some little girl from long ago, nor about some not-so-little girl from the other day. I am here, going through the motions, wrapping things up before I disappear from everywhere but here (as in the blog, knucklehead) to everyone that matters.

Or pretends to.

So, yeah, I'm a little bummed today. I don't know why, I don't know how, I don't understand it. I just get bummed sometimes. Ok, no, actually, I get bummed a lot, but I distract myself enough generally speaking with work and athletics so that I fake normality.

But y'all knew that already.

So my friend Mo was in town tonight, and I hung out with he and 4 other friends from long ago. Or, actually, three old colleagues and one good friend. And Mo, living in Austin, referred to the last time I saw him several times and how I had a reputation for nailing 20 year olds and "living life".

The guy who owns like 11 houses, hardly works, and bangs 20 year olds.

Right. Just call me Alfie.

--

I'm buzzed right now. I have a headache, and I'm vaguely hungry (fucking bourgeois restaruants never fucking feed you properly, damn it!), and if I could go to the gym or go get coffee right now, I would.

But it's a little late for either, and so I thought, hey, I haven't checked facebook in awhile...

I thought, first, actually, about having sex, about making a booty call, because it might be nice for a few minutes. But there is neither the conquest of someone new nor the satisfaction of someone old.

And then, of course, clicking through on facebook, I thought of the last time I had that satisfaction.

But anyway. Fuck that. I'm going to school in a week, going to fill my life with experiences I've never had, people I've never met, and lovers I've never held.

I can't wait.

I would nevertheless be lying if the random "I could just slam on my breaks and hop over the guard rail" thought didn't occur to me as I crossed the bridge tonight.

Don't wince. Don't call. It's not the first time, nor will it be the last, and you know it. I'll be fine. It's nothing a lifetime of therapy and some high dosages of medication can't solve, right?

Laugh. That was fucking funny. Damn it.

--

The thing I notice most about getting older? It's not that you're wiser or smarter, not the confidence or lack of anger.

It's the detachment. Because I've always been this way, but I'd get angrier and channel more back in the day. I'd be at the gym right now were I 23.

But now, I'm not passionate enough to channel, nor in enough malaise to actually even cry.

I just feel... alone.

Weird. I hope it changes when I leave the state next week.