cacophonic thoughts.

An expression that Larisa recently conveyed to me applies here: Days are long but years are short. It's been a month since my last update but somehow it feels like only a week or so. I have some catching up to do, and seeing as to how I'm starting this at 1:25 a.m. and am sufficiently buzzed, we'll see how this coalesces.

Christmas was a relatively low-key affair. In the morning gifts were exchanged between my parents, my brother, his girlfriend Amber and myself. Two firsts occurred this Christmas: 1. No grandparents, of any capacity, were present; and 2. I had to give out certificate IOU's in promising that gifts are forthcoming once I have the money to buy them. It was an awkward and humbling experience despite the fact that my parents assured me it didn't matter if I got gifts for people this year or not. At least they understood, but it didn't make it feel any better. Ever since I've been independent (as far as Christmas shopping goes) I've been able to purchase the goods. Now, 23 and out of college, I found myself unable to part with what little money my bank statement told me that I still had. Since then I've fallen into a (minor) windfall and will be buying the gifts soon before my green runs out.

New Jersey doesn't know what fucking state it is anymore. Back in the summertime it rained literally every other day (Washington) and this winter it's been sub-freezing and/or snowy for over 75% of the days (Alaska). Don't get me wrong, I don't mind a blizzard about once a year, even though it doesn't happen that frequently in these parts, but this cold is bugging me out. I'm definitely a fairer climate kinda guy. My skin tone would indicate I love cold weather (what better place to blend in an environment that a white snowfall for me?) but my stature argues otherwise (6'4" and 147 lbs on a heavy day doesn't lend itself for arctic temperatures).

Despite a strange and existential way to end the 2009 calendar year, I was able to ring in a promising 2010 in Arlington, VA with my girlfriend and a healthy supply of mutual friends (well...her friends whom I've befriended as a consequence of dating her for four+ years). Beer, shots, wine, champagne and a fat, succulent cigar lent themselves for a jovial night. Naturally I stumbled about and reminisced on all that 2009 held, but I certainly made efforts to not go overboard and ring in 2010 face down and/or covered in vomit. After all, January 1st was when I had planned to drive to Clifton and visit my niggas. They partied hearty from the accounts I've heard; 30 to 40 deep and an unlimited alcohol flow will do that to a party. After a subdued New Year's Day (Taco Bell and The Departed) I was ready for Round 2. Sadly, only one other person was up to the task that night, as everyone else couldn't stomach the thought of force feeding themselves with more booze. And then there were two: myself, and Evan. Whiskey shots and beer supplied us with all of the rage we needed to get fucked up again. Compliments to Ellie for the fried chicken that she had made that eve, it certainly satisfied the drunk munchies well. I came close to vomiting at around 6 in the morning, but I thought better of it. I've paid my dues and struggled through 4 years of higher education to reach non-ralphing status. It happens to the best of us, just not me, not that night.

Ahh, January 2nd. For fear of legal repercussions or an off chance that a potential employer finds this, I will not delve into depths beyond what I am capable of swimming. The day, eventful, memorable, hilarious, morphing, shifting and layered in sounds and colors was one for the books. The Natural History Museum in D.C. was certainly an experience to behold. I'm happy with the company I had that day - E$, Hamburglar siblings, Ellie and Frempton. The metro ride back to Vienna undoubtedly made fellow passengers uncomfortable and perturbed; I would have been too if I saw what I saw but not through my eyes I'm talking about their eyes whose eyes are these? nobody told me eyes on the prize was the way to rise.

Memories from that night are foggy but I do remember that Frempton yelled at delinquents about responsibility, jobs, real life and accountability. I also remember me verbally raping/accosting/assaulting/shredding some hapless whore vagrant. I wish it had been recorded.

Upon returning to Linden I discovered that my beloved hamster Mr. Peabody had passed away since the afternoon of New Year's Eve. I expected it was coming; he was 2 1/2 years old and his life expectancy was 2-3 years. He's currently in my basement's freezer in a shoebox, awaiting the weather to warm up and the ground to soften so he can get a proper burial. I fully intend on buying a malt liquor 40 for the occasion, pouring some of it out, then drinking the rest. RIP; August 2007 - January 2010. (on a side note, 2009 ended with a death and 2010 began with one -- things come in threes some I'm kinda nervous about what/who else will die)

And news that I never wanted to give but was going to inevitably occur: As of Monday, January 11th I am back at my parents' home in Woodbury. With money teetering on zero and bills to pay if I stayed in Linden, the choice was unavoidable. I wasn't going to have Larisa pay for both of us to live there; she needs to save her money, and while I'm still young and helpless enough I might as well take advantage of my parents. I've been job searching and have already applied to one in the area since I've been back, plus I'm going to be getting involved in an organization or two for pleasure (to fill my days, build my resume and for fun). I'll miss Larisa, but with weekly visits (1 1/2 hour drive one way) plus Skype we should be able to cope. I am, however, 1 1/2 hours closer to NoVa and DC, so potential friend visits (both going to them and them coming to me) is a more feasible possibility. The biggest downfall of moving home, so far anyway, is that my mom views me as an indentured servant. I can't really blame her - it'd be pathetic on my end to live at home and contribute in no way to the welfare of the home or the situation - but it will certainly take adjusting.

I'm going to close by noting that I concur with Frempton in that I need direction. Whereas vodka and a handgun are his choice of (oxymoronic) self-controlled destiny, my vices are whiskey and blenders. Let's see what the night brings!