Welcome to the end of the world

the magic number 21 has come upon me. and nothing feels different or the same. the first 'official' drink of beer tasted just like the one last night. and the one on thursday. same flavor, different circumstances. argh, the paradoxes and conundrums. fuck it.

i just realized tonight that i've been calling the WRONG number all this time whenever i tried to give my #1 a ring. O. M. G. extreme idiocy at its best. each time i called, the phone rang eternally, without a voice message prompt. what was i thinking? but now it makes me wonder, WHERE does the number i originally dialed go? who does it belong to? who the fuck doesnt answer their phones? i had mentally conjured this image of an abandoned house with a lone telephone ringing incessantly.

tomorrow will just be another bump in the road towards this saturday's drunkfest, sadly. actually, i kind of want to run into Ms. #3 and give her the heads up about the party. but may just be a fool's desire. maybe before i get home, i'll end up having to pick up a 6-pack of beer and drink the sorrow away, haha. HOPEFULLY, i can get in touch with pete regarding the MUSE concert on tuesday. that would rock my balls to the extreme. truly. and then comes thursday, which may be another concert, but this time with hip-hop legends De La Soul. no doubt the #1 syndrome will come into effect at that show. ARGH.

to my fellow buffalo soldiers, hang in there, your days of glory are coming. next up, may 8th/9th, followed by may 11th, may 18th, and then finally may 20th. i'm looking forward to one big bar hop at the end of the month, as well as parties dotting the month of may. rock on, drunkards.

--edit--
so the MUSE concert is totally sold out. fucking bummer. i havent been to a rock concert in ages, and i had hoped that MUSE concert would be a good jumping point for the rock resurgence for me. oh well, looks like i'll be a hiphophile for now.