And the magic word is...

...Wasted. That pretty much sums up the last 24 hours for me. That's what I was last night thanks to Jeff Henry's Buck-fifty-one and the last of D Bert's homemade "California White". That's what today was. I spent most of the day hiding from the rain and grossly overstaying my welcome at Andrew's place. At some point Mr. Dilts said "I didn't know you were staying over." My reply was "I didn't know I was staying over..." Yeesh.

I've been watching South Park since I got home around 5 PM. My house is empty. There's usually ten people here, now it's only me and the massive mess. Oh, and madness. I'll probably go insane if I don't watch myself. Holy crap its messy around here.

My favourite thing about hangovers is the little promises you make yourself. Stuff like, "I won't ever drink that much again." Little lies.

Speaking of bullshit self-promises, I'm going through all those stupid motions I do anytime I'm about to start a new semester. It's the fresh start syndrome. I'm thinking I'll get a job, get some muscles, go to class, do homework, do Imprint, clean my room, exercise, kill the president, play more rock, play more jazz, play my trumpet, learn bass, fly, see some concerts, date someone, fly fish, party, fix my barbeque, cure cancer and get more rest. Piece of cake, right?

It's New Year's eve all over again. Independantly these goals may be possible, but in my stupid head I earnestly believe that I can do them all. 90% will fail, then at the end of the semester I'll be here again, regretting the failures and pledging to succeed. Always the same ridiculous cycle, fact is I never really change. So much wasted hope. Oh well, at least I've still got the hope.

Star Wars Gangsta Rap? Yes please!