Another night out.

As the morning wraps up and the fog fades from my head, I stop and look back at last night.

It's probably a dumb subject to write about, but right now it's all I've got. Between a job I hate and a uneventful nineteen year old life, the town and the alcohol pumped into me is what I'm living every other weekend. And the scene is changing.

1.) The people.
The group is ever shifting, but if there is a constant it's me and Carey. We are out there, making new friends every time we hit the pavement, sometimes twice in one weekend. The group always shifts and we cut people out and in as we see fit, whether it be because they physically and mentally abuse their girlfriends, or simply because they can't keep up with us. Which brings the next point.

2.) The pace.
The night always starts off rowdy, with everyone getting in each others faces with lots of wrestling and play fighting with whatevers around. As the night goes on, we settle down with each other and start to share everything, whether it be alcohol or the women and people around us. It's like the pre-party activities are just there to get the blood flowing and in the mental state needed to hang with us. I've noticed that nights that I would usually class as superb wind up in the normal pile, while a crazy off the hook night is almost impossible to find. Our standards and consumption is going through the roof every week.

3.) My attitude towards it all.
As short as a month ago I could honestly say that every time I went out my head would be on a swivel for anyone who would even grant me a smile. At this point I'm happy to say it's reverting to my older self, the independent lone wolf who's only looking out for number one and keeping vigil for his buddy. I don't care who looks my way or who crosses paths with me as long as they want the same things I do, a good time and a few cheap laughs. I Love to make people laugh, and am not afraid to cast whoever and whatever aside once the night is over if it hasn't made any impact on me. Which is, again, getting harder and harder to do.

I feel like myself of old. I'm not looking, I can just simply say I'm single. Nothing else. Sure, I'm a huge flirt and if someone bats an eyebrow I'm not afraid to wade in chest deep. But once the night is done and I'm home, I can promise you won't be there or have my number. I sleep alone and only keep a few friends close and am damn proud of the people I surround myself with.

It's hilarious, it seems as soon as I do this, I get swamped. I've had three girls in the last three days looking for my house and wanting to just "swing" by. The crushed, post Evelyn me would want nothing more then that. In fact, that's all I went looking for for nearly a year. Now that I don't care and am just acting for myself, compliments and people are nearly throwing themselves at me and drowning my poor ego in lust.

And I'm not even acting on it. I just laugh it off, let the roving hands go wherever they want, and finish my beer.

I'm down nearly ten pounds, from boxing I would have to assume. I can't wait for every session, and after the fifteenth of this month I'm able to step into the ring and duke it out with whomever wants to cross gloves. I get fidgety with excitement every time I think of it.

What a way to enter my favorite season of the year.