Summer

It's July. Yesterday was the 4th; we visited our friend down the street and drank beer and played croquet (I lost). Later we climbed a mountain to look at all the firework shows in the area. It was fucking exhausting.

I still haven't been hired anywhere. It wouldn't be so bad, slowly going broke, if I didn't spend each day listlessly puttering around the house wondering what the hell I should be doing with my days. I add to that the knowledge that I could be spending my time in some local air-conditioned store making $9 an hour and occupying myself with mindless activity that serves some end instead of endlessly replaying the same virtual football scenarios on old videogame consoles, breaking to smoke cheap cigarettes and surfing the web between short bursts of unenthused reading.

I turn 21 in a month, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, 21 WOO GET EFFED UP etc. On the two hand, each of these last few birthdays has its sad side; getting older, slipping further and further from ultimate youth is a disorienting feeling. I guess I'll see how it goes when I get there.

At least there's been some good movie-watchin' going on at my house. Today we watched the Marx Brothers' A Day at the Races. I think it's a mite too long, but damn if Harpo and Chico's piano playing scene isn't transcendent.