When anything that's anything becomes nothing, that's everything

It's been an eventful couple of days I guess. Where to start, since the last time I wrote? I've been bombing out my future. I don't know where I'm going anymore, and it's just a horrible feeling, being powerless. It's awful, wanting to do something, and not being able to, knowing that you were the one who messed it up. I didn't work hard enough, as ever. It was Nathalie who said, girls like to be pursued, and she teased me, for refusing to play the game. It's that way for everything in my life I guess. Post-graduate studies, girls, whatever. Anything, everything.

I'm not quite drunk. I guess just enough to appreciate my waking hangover. Guess I shouldn't have been hitting the sauce so hard earlier today. I've already thrown up, a few minutes of vomiting straight acid and beer behind a Steak-Out dumpster. I guess the easiest way to recount the days is to start with today and work backwards. Today we went on an adventure. Actually, it started that way and quickly progressed as we got lost, so I had to upgrade it to an Odyssey. Anyway we finally reached our Ithaca; the Cahaba River, a languid and memoryless body of water, perfect for a day of drinking. Inner tubes, beer, fireworks combined to make a decent fourth of july, better than last year at least, which I will recount as my requisite drunk story soon. But the Cahaba was treacherous, and I got pretty damn cut up. Also swallowed some disgusting river water. I'm not proud of what I did. Ups of the trip: the absolutely awesome dogs the owners had, the rope swing over the water, an inner tube holding an assload of beer.

Before I forget: the fourth of july story from last year. Montgomery has an annual fourth of july fireworks display and we thought it would be fun to go to it, so me and trevor and meghan and grace decided to grill up some burgers, drink a bit, and go see em. It started out well until I got to grace's dad's house and, seeing that nobody was there yet except for her, decided to get started. Bad idea. A bottle of peppermint schnapps, three hours of puking and a couple of adorable kittens playing in my shoes later, I stumbled out of the bathroom and asked if I missed the fireworks. Guess I didn't, since it was barely 8 o'clock. I somehow crammed an entire night of drinking and puking into about three hours. Oh well, it happens. There's a picture of me cross-legged and passed out in the bathroom on trevor's phone somewhere.

What else? Not much. Beyond the drinking, and the powerlessness, I've been spending some time with some pretty girls and some cool dudes. There's been a really nice cat hanging around the apartment at 3 in the morning. I've spent a couple days just lying around in bed. I've spent a week doing nothing I regret. I love it. I'd almost forgotten about responsibilities, about life. Not that I would have done anything about it. I guess I'm just that way. I need to figure out what's going on with my life.