New Year's Eve party tonight! And probably well into the next day...

For the sake of cabdrivers everywhere, it is fortunate that DC will turn 21 only once .

For my sake, as well, since two of the four people with whom I left the bar ended up throwing up at my house. Only one of those two made it to the toilet. I am glad that I am not the petty sort of person that will forever keep track and bear a grudge to people that have vomited on my bedroom carpet (three, three people have done so.)

I was not very intoxicated when I arrived home that night because earlier that evening I had decided to cease and desist all activities that bring me any kind of joy, including heavy drinking. I make this decision about every two months or so with varying degrees of success. In this case, I had made the decision after already consuming a pitcher of seven-and-seven thus I was very determined to stick to it this time.

...

There is a world. Sometimes, it reminds me that I'm in it. Two of my friends were in a car accident last night. It wasn't their fault, but that matters very little to momentum and friction and velocity and friction.

At this time, I have every indication that they will be okay. Changed, certainly, but they have not gone where I cannot follow. I thank them for this.

I don't much feel like figuring out some kind of smooth transition into whatever else I'm going to write about.

Which seems to be...my job. Or rather, my lack of a job. I quit the pizza place around Thanksgiving. My boss had gotten wind of my upcoming vacation from school and scheduled me to work all of those days. I responded with "...uh, that's okay, I think I'm going to quit." And I did.

Inopportune, considering Christmas is coming up.

I've been toying with the idea of becoming a bartender. My mother was in charge of throwing the holiday party for her school this year and I was enlisted to help. It went off beautifully. The food was great, the music was good, my mother had gotten some great donations from local businesses to give away as prizes, and I did my part by making sure those elementary schoolteachers got so wasted they couldn't count to ten. Not that they needed any encouragement. Man, if there is a profession that can binge-drink, it's gotta be schoolteachers.

Joey and Brian Y. were my co-hosts for the evening. They did a great job making everyone feel welcome. They had a pretty good time themselves, and luckily for them they were good friends with the bartender.

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I ended up pretty drunk while bartending. It's a weakness I've had since I was a wee lad; I can't let anyone take a shot of tequila by themselves.

It was fun, though. I'm something of a social butterfly but when you're the one serving the drinks everyone comes to you. It's great.

I'm going to bed.

There are times, man. There are times.

Last Friday, I sat in a sports utility vehicle converted into a limousine drinking champage, dancing from the waist up to hip-hop music mixed without imagination by a local dj, and pondered if I would be able to make rent by Monday.

Tonight, I sit in a computer lab on campus listening to a stranger's iTunes and strain my psychic abilities to envision a future in which I have finished a term paper and a final exam by 9 am. I will give up ten minutes from now ashamed at my extra-sensory impotence but pleased that I am still able to time-travel very short distances into the future.

Yesterday, I laid on the futon my brother Mulk sold me. It was still in couch-mode and with quiet resolve I swore to keep it that way. In the antiseptic yellow light of my Batman alarm clock I dreamt that I was tumbling down a crevass and as I fell my teeth fell out, one by one by one.

I think it would be funny to drop a few pieces of bacon into the coffee filter of your friend's automatic coffee maker. A boullion cube might have the same effect in respect to the flavor, but not the same effect on your friend's face when he/she looks inside and finds raw bacon.

Thirty minutes ago, I stood in line with Brian Y. and a morass of other hungry students at the campus cafeteria for free food and drink that was being distributed in celebration of late-night studying for final exams. Final exams may or may not be final depending on the year of the student, but no one seems to care to think about that. I sat and ate and didn't think about that with everyone else.

It's right now again. Arcade Fire begins to play. Last time I heard this song I was working 9-5 at an insurance company. Last time I heard this song for the first time at a friend's apartment. Last time I heard this song I was making love.

Last time changes. The song doesn't. I want it to be an immutable marker in a tempestuous sea of memory. But it isn't that. A bit of music can't hold the world on its shoulders even if it can sing in French. I believe I shouldn't worry. I believe I shouldn't strain against the mast and try to re-create the conditions that even now give Probability and Hindsight cause to shrug their shoulders and quickly change the subject.

Good song, though.

I can't pull up my blog right now so I'm blogging in the dark. The technological equivalent of shouting into the wrong end of a megaphone. Dang, and I had it set to make my voice sound like a robot. It would have been useful earlier today when Molly and I were walking around like robots in the bank. And the parking lot. And on campus. Instead of robot voices we used pseudo-Strongbad voices. It worked out pretty well.

This evening should be interesting. I have to "significantly revise" a short story I've written based on "workshop feedback." I am disappointed that the teaching assistant made no provision for the possibility that everyone else is a fraggin' idiot and I'm a genius so the story is perfect the way it is.

Not that I would ever use that provision. But I would feel better having it, sames as I feel having a spare tire in the trunk of my car even if it is flat.

I have learned that there are no longer any slots available for the '06 Ironman competition. Entries have been accepted since April of last year, and I suppose the typical Ironman competitor is the sort of "long-term planning" type of person that I don't get along with so well.

I have mixed feelings.

I was almost beginning to sort of look forward to the event. I wonder if it is possible to sneak into an Ironman competition? I imagine the downside would be that if I get caught there is no way in hell I'll be able to run/swim/bike away.

My friend Matt has talked me into entering an Ironman competition that will be coming here to Tempe in April. I thought, "Well, I ran a marathon in January with no training, logically I should be able to do an Ironman in five months with some training.

I've been to the official Ironman website. It took me a while to find out what to even expect. I went to the Frequently Asked Questins page and got all the way to #28 before it answered how long an Ironman is. "The swim is 2.4 miles and the cutoff is 2 hrs. and 20 min., the bike is 112 miles and the cutoff time is 10 hrs and 30 min from the beginning of the race and the run is a full marathon which is 26.2 miles and the cutoff time is 17 hours from the beginning of the race."

Questio #29 tells me that the official race drink is Gatorade Endurance, lemon-lime flavor. That does little to reassure me.

This is clearly a bad idea. Ah, well. It has been some time since knowing something is a bad idea has deterred me from going ahead and doing it.

There is always the chance that this could end well. After all, the slogan for the race is "Anything Is Possible." When's the last time a slogan has led anyone wrong?