Apparently, my natural rhythm inspires me to write something every 10-15 days.  I think about it for days, open the blog a few times, but only write occasionally.  I wish this was something I did more of, using creative energy seems to lift my mood and hop up my thoughts a bit.  The biggest problem is deciding what to write about.  My usual strategy is to sit here, start writing and see where it goes; which is the format all of my posts seem rigidly follow.  But how do real bloggers decide what to write about?  How do those champions of WordPress write daily entries about a consistent topic, void of the personal mumbo jumbo that makes this blog a sensitive half diary?  Maybe I should start every post with “Dear Journal”.  Ugh! The thought of that makes me cringe.  My theory is that these bloggers are skilled at focusing and thinking about something for a prolonged period of time.  An inspiring idea for the next coffee shop stool scuffing post pops into their head and they can go with it for the rest of the day, organizing their thoughts and contemplating the different directions they could go with the post.  I on the other hand can’t think about one thing for any meaningful period of time unless it is affecting my life.  Work, girlfriend, school, survival – no problem, but those aren’t the stuff of a good blog post.  What about news, politics, life, and humor?  How do you marathon bloggers keep those things on your minds?  F this, I need to go try to think about something real.

    Oh the things I’ve said when I drink too much!  Luckily, I am very close to the end of my five and a half year college career and will no longer be exposed to the kind of pressure that causes me to drink in such excess; at least not as often.  After my most recent slip up, I decided to reflect on the somewhat comical and often embarrassing things that spew from my uninhibited mouth on various weekend nights over the course of my life in this four mile radius college campus that makes up my world.
     The most recent, and most embarrassing by far, has to be my exceedingly un-slick L-word drop on my girlfriend of (officially) three months.  After a review of the number of X’s on the back of last night’s permanent marker slashed pub crawl T-shirt, I have concluded that the fifteen drinks made me do it.  “Do you remember what you said to me last night?” was her question this morning.  “No”, I said.  “Good”, was her answer.  Of course, like any semi-insecure guy, I played the “tell me what I said” game, but I knew, and boy did I wish I didn’t.

 Now, if I can manage to remember some others:

 1.  “GET THAT OUTA THERE!” – to a girl I wanted to get with that told me she was on her period.

2. “I CAN GET ANY GIRL I WANT!” – very loudly in the middle of a party after hitting on some guys gf and almost getting knocked around.  I followed this one up by calling my hefty female friend a “fat bitch”.

3.  “I have an idea! How about you make out with him and I make out with you, then we switch!” – this actually worked.

4.  These are too hard to remember.  Especially when you have to hear about them second hand the next day.