2002-01-10 :: 2:57 a.m.

yet another sign of getting older

Soundtrack: Radiohead, Amnesiac [Limited]

Tonight marks something. What would you call it hyperbolically: the end of an era, a real advancement towards adulthood, growing up, what have you. I drove over to Brent's, we dropped off some "freight" that Brent's car won't fit at one of his friend's (is that the correct possessive here for the implied object 'house'?), went to Borders, had hot chocolate, read magazines and comic books. That's pretty standard when we [don't] make plans, there's not much for us to do for three or four hours in the evening in the suburbs. I bought a CD I'd been looking for. And then we went back to Brent's house, fucked around on the Dreamcast for a while, got bored, and finally watched Jackass and Wild On... (or, more accurately, Pretty People Party In Places That You Will Never Go To). We walked his sheltie, who took forever to finally get down to his business, as is custom. We stood around, talked about a few people, alive and dead. We got colder. We said goodbye, shook hands, and I drove back home. But that's probably the last time I make that drive for some time, because Brent certainly won't be here come summertime. (I'll probably be in the area for a little while, at the very least to move out, but I am hopeful that it won't be for long. I'd like to visit Pa�l for Spring Break, but even if I don't, Brent's and my breaks don't overlap.) So who's left now? Pa�l has cleared out and gone to Spain for his study abroad. I was supposed to see Mike earlier this week (for just the second time), but he returned to college early. It was strange to drive home along the almost-empty streets that I have enjoyed driving along many, many times on the way back from Brent's, looking at the street lamps hanging beautifully, ticking off the miles in silence, and realizing that there are very few roads here left for me. Or rather, there are many left (they are all still here, after all), but not many destinations that I have to go to. My roads are slowly moving elsewhere now, but I do not know where they are just yet, nor who or what waits along them. I was never good with directions anyway. It is an extremely high level of uncertainty to stomach, but we know it is time to get out of here. Still, as much as we complained about how little there was to do, at least there were people I cared about hanging around to do nothing with. At least we had all this free time to fritter away. Now we are all going to be somewhere else, where we will, we hope, have things to do, but not with one another any longer, save for the rare occasion that vacations from jobs align, or a visit can be made by lucky happenstance and/or strategic planning (both of which are rare things). I feel like I did very little as far as seeing people this break though, as if I blew my last chance on sleeping in too often, and slothing through the days, and I don't know. Maybe it's just the process of letting go.

(It is scary that this is the last large (i.e., over a week) chunk of free time I will ever have until I A) retire, or B) suffer a serious accident or grievance. From now on, the inexorable push of Life's middle finger will be in the small of my back. Not that it wasn't before, per se, but at least it could be ignored in the name of luxury.)