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star-sailor (profile) wrote,
on 5-24-2008 at 1:12pm
Current mood: lethargic
Music: Vampires In Blue Dresses - Margot & The Nuclear So & So's
Subject: Don't Throw It Away, O Calico Queen
Unique, reader. Unique oddities. Strange, unusual, weird happenings all around me. Is this normal? Is this how everyone else acts on a regular basis? Is this the world I have distanced myself from for so long? Or was this wild and coincidental? Was this just a queer chain of events that formed itself around me and led me into an adventure? Who knows, but I'll tell you the story.



Yesterday, I woke up with a yawn and a text message. The message was from Kat Fay, who I hadn't seen since a random "party" [slash] gaming "event" at her brother Corey's house. We were talking the night prior due to issues that are her business, which she can reveal to you on her own Xanga. We talked for a few hours (via text message) as I languored about the house. After a couple hours, and a strange movie I was watching about a guy who basically invented the tabloid and paparazzi, Kat and I organized to meet up at her apartment. I met her there with a guy named Tucker, who I vaguely remember from Paschal. Kat said her apartment was lame, but I thought it was glorious, despite the ventless vents. We three watched Stranger Than Fiction. Afterwards, we left, ironically, heading straight for Paschal.

We were heading to the showing of the drama-folk from Paschal's latest show, That's Absurd, a collection of... well, absurd plays. They were really well acted and put together, though the last play went WAY over my head.

Kat and Tucker had theorized about heading to Tucker's house and having a few people over for a festive time. Alcohol would be involved. I must freely admit, I wasn't too keen on the idea. But my car was back at Kat's apartment complex, and I was feeling quite lonely, regardless of my fellow company. I needed to be social, because the bleak loneliness I knew that awaited me at home, lost in my own head, spinning myself in circles silly, was not somewhere I wanted to be.

We got to Tucker's place, which was nice and comfortable. There's nothing special about it - a house is a house - but if you were told to view the inside of a house, and then describe it in the most illuminating way possible using a single object, I would have compared it to a big, old, comfortable couch. It looked like somewhere nice to be comfortable. I soon realized that this little trio of ours was going to grow exponentially. I still wasn't sure if I wanted to be there, but seeing as I couldn't go home, I didn't worry myself.

After we remained dalliant for a short while, they proceeded to look for the alcohol in the house. Both were particularly excited in a bottle of sake that Tucker had. They heated it up while we watched somewhat unenthusiastic summer movie previews. Once it was heated, they offered me a shot. I took it, never having had sake before. It tasted warm and very smooth. I had another shot, knowing that there wasn't much left to drink anyway.

The rest of the company arrived later. I hardly remember anyone, because the introductions were so short, and I suck at remembering people like that; I know that Matt Slayter, who I've only heard so much about from my friends, was there - he's a good, cool guy - and Claire Parker, who I sort of (though not really) knew in high school. Eight of us in all. The miniature fĂȘte went dead-set to remove their sobriety. Now, normally I'm not the drinking type - you would compare my tendencies to a drought. But this time reader, I felt like having some. I wanted to see what this was all cracked up to be. I knew these sort of get-togethers happened on a daily basis, but because of the friends I'm friends with, I've never been involved in one (not that this is necessarily a bad thing). I wanted the experience; I wanted to know if it was as fun as I've been told. I grabbed a mini-bottle of champagne and returned to the movie we were watching.

And it was really simple, really. We hung out, talked, watched the movie, and drank. I didn't have much, honestly; the small bottle, a few gulps of wine which was good and I savoured, and those two shots of sake. Most of the others had much more, but I didn't want any more, and that was that. There was no pressure to drink, there was no anger when I didn't want any; none of that jargon you hear from angry parents. Declining alcohol was like declining a cup of lemonade.

Nevertheless, it was getting around mid-night, and as the other's inebriation was beginning to grip heavy on them, I wanted to leave. I didn't want to be bumbling through a window or something at home around five in the morning; I wasn't THAT eager to be social. Tucker, who drove us to his house, though he seemed fine, knew he was gone, and couldn't drive for another five hours or so. Kat didn't have her car, and she was going to her house anyway, so that didn't help me. Thankfully, two girls, whom I don't remember the names of, were willing to give me a ride to Kat's apartment to my car. We left after the movie was over; they were sweeties when they asked if they could smoke, worried about offending me, hahaha. They got me back to my car and I went home perfectly fine.

Reader, it wasn't that bad. I learned I can have fun in a quote-unquote "mature" setting without feeling bad or however people tell me you're supposed to feel at these sort of get-togethers. And though I'm still a little confused about things right now, I met some people and had some fun. I don't want that to be a regular happening - I still don't like drinking - but last night, it was alright. I think I made someone mad in doing this... but there's nothing I can do about that.

But here is the part, reader, where I get confused. I have a lot more to say, but I don't want to say them until they're absolutely confirmed. Maybe I have a fear of these plans of mine going bottom up due to being jinxed. Maybe I just want the confirmation before I start spouting off about it in general. Let's just say that I hope the next couple weeks prove as they do in my head. Until next time, reader.
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