I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

Went out to a party tonight with some friends. It seems like something that should be so rich with detail, the G train, bodegas, an ex-fire station loft apartment building, an incredible view of the Manhattan skyline, but I just rest my chin on my hand and try to think of what to say about it.

I'm getting older. When I was 18 years old I could drink half a litre of hard alcohol over the course of a night and be chipper and perky the next day. Last night I had three beers with Eric and woke up with a screaming headache after sleeping in to 1 in the afternoon. And the morning after taste of all those cigarettes... like I had been licking dried pigeon shit the night before. I went to the party tonight and had five smokes and drank a liter bottle of water.

I never cared about doing all the things that were bad for me. I always seemed to be really invincible, even a real terrorfest of illicit consumption left me bright as a daisy the next day, but now just a few drinks will ruin my day. Now I'm much more cautious about drinking and smoking, because I really feel every little puff and sip.

I don't really mourn the loss of my intemperance, but I've never been very social in large groups and I've found that when people say "party," they mean "an informal gathering during which the primary activities are smoking, drinking, dancing, and sometimes talking (depending on how loud the music is)".

I had a good time. I'm glad I went, I don't want anyone to misunderstand. But at times I felt as though I were a bodybuilder at a tupperware party.

Also: I'm getting too good at Team Fortress 2. I think I have to cut back. Plus, the loading screen between maps shows you how many hours you've played as each of the nine classes. It makes me cringe every time, counting all those hours up as the next map loads...

15 hours medic...

19 hours engineer...

It's a very depressing loading screen. It reminds me of the summer I was 19 years old, and as I was packing up my Playstation to bring back to college, I went in to clear out the save game files from my memory cards, and all those wasted hours were staring me in the face. Like:

Final Fantasy VIII, 72.5 hours

Metal Gear Solid, 23 hours

Crash Bandicoot 3, 16 hours

And all I can think is: "God, there are a lot of things I'd rather have done with all that time. I'd have a novel, or at least a few good short stories. Now all I've got is character data I'm about to erase."

That put me off video games quite a bit for a good long while but, clearly, I've still got some work to do.

I take some solace in the fact that I'm here, writing, now.

Good night!