  Yesterday I was to hung over to get anything done on the house. I have like two weeks left until I need to get it on the market. Today I don't feel so hot either, but got some painting done. My stupid ex keeps calling from freakin Texas, or wherever she is (like I care!). I don't get that girl. I pick up the phone to hear that southern twang going "this is a call of pride. " A call of pride? What the f**k does that mean? And why are you calling? Call Evan, your GHBusingmillionairenewyorkersextoy, don't call me and f**k up yet another relationship in my life. God. Oh and while you bragging about your stupid air force money, get a life. Oh, and DELETE my number!
Again. Ryan Kipp, 20 year old former fellow Abercrombie worker and Muhlenburg frat boy that now works at Hollister, stopped by last night. It was great to hang out with him again. It's been like 4 months. We caught up over a few beers at Mothers. Mothers-> Located in the circle of downtown Easton. Drinky Drinkersons is owned by the same people. Very small, long bar and tiny "dance floor" used for different things on different nights. Cute waitresses, ghetto Easton/P-burg trash crowd in the summer, rich Lafayette kids during the school year. Ryan tried to make friends with the waitress, Nikki, who works at DD and Victoria Secret, and was shot down hard. So he made some other friends. We nature hiked to Wawa on College Hill for late night muchies, and some 14 year old high schoolers were nice enough to give us a ride back. More drunken phone calls and we both passed out. Ryan woke me up at like 9 with a nice glass of cool-aid he made(thanks for spilling it all over the kitchen!).
We talked, I gave him a sniper t-shirt and he left. Great guy. Already Rick is talking Main Gate tonight. Ryan wants to do something too. I just don't know if my body can handle three nights out in a row. Plus, I'm starting to look "shady" to certain individuals. When they get older they will understand. NO MORE ALCOHOL!!! I'm done for a while. Time to get the house done, then I can party. Priorities. I talked to my prospective rommy, Jordan, at GU, who I find out is 18!!!! Great, he seemed weirded out when I told him I was 23. I can't wait to live with a bunch of kids. 
