those little things that I fear
Oct. 20th, 2002 02:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauralhNo one on this list works for MS anymore, so I think I can use real names. Or at least real initials. So the guy I used to refer to as the light-haired Romanian attack dog is now BP, and the dark-haired one is FS. Anyway, the former called up my housemate last night while he was in the shower, asking if he or both of us were coming out to this party or whatever. I was all "Maybe!"
Steve bowed out, so at 9:30 I showed up at BP's as I said I would. Of course he was nowhere near ready, just finishing his shower, so I had a drink while he futzed around. We talked a little bit about skiing, and my novel, and even Goedel, Escher, Bach. He had a copy on his coffee table, and I had been reading it before Nick and I broke up (I should get back into it, but as he agreed with me, it's dense and slow-going). It was pretty interesting having a conversation like that with him - I mean I've been to his place and seen the books, he once had Foucalt's Pendulum on his nightstand, but obviously we don't usually interact on that level. So I guess I knew it in the back of my head that he was a bit of an intellectual, but talking to him like that was still a revelation. He offered to read my novel when I finished it, talking about some German youth fantasy that he'd read a while back.
So then we went to pick up his "friend" Angela. They're actually in something of a similar situation to me - dating, but not exclusively, and they actually like hanging out with each other and shit. Which is weird to me, because I spent the past six months flirting with B. He backed off when I was with Joel, but now I'm the one backing off, just because I kind of like Angela. And he seems to care about her, in his own special way.
And then FS, and then to a party in one of those really really nice houses in Cap Hill (damn Microsofters) on 13th. It was a bit too early for the party to be fun, at first, but then as more people got there it got too crowded to breathe. So we just got a little liquored up, took pictures of random people (B got a really fucking cool camera), and drove to the Showbox.
I guess we missed DJ Dan, but Christopher Lawrence was fucking unbelievable, and we had a pretty good time. Angela and I attempted to chat these 3 guys up, but they clearly thought they were above us, refusing to dance with us unless we bought them drinks. WTF? I saw two of them later talking to some generic blond girl who clearly wasn't going to go home with BOTH of them. Geez. Guys suck. But the music was kickass and we got to dance dance revolution.
And about a quarter to two we realize we're going to miss last call at the Contour if we don't leave immediately. Of course we don't, and miss it, but that's ok. I totally sober up and dance with Angela and F, and then watch her eat a hotdog (she kept going on about how hungry she was). So then we chatted up a couple of people - another Angela, and a Ryan - that B met last week apparently. We invite them both to go to my place or F's to drink more, but she wants to dance, and she drove, so no dice. So we go to F's place and drink a little more till Angela is tired and wants to go home. We drop her off and then B says "OK, we're going to the Speakeasy party."
It's 4am, but I'm not too tired, so I say "OK." It's a nice space down in Pioneer Square with a freight elevator to get up there, but the party is about to die, so we only stay for a few minutes. Then he calls the girl who invited us to it, but she doesn't answer. Nonetheless we drive to Upper Queen Anne and see her lights on, pound on the door till we get in. Not a ton of people there, but drugs and wine freely flowing. I don't actually indulge myself, as I still have to drive home. But I do talk to a guy who doesn't specify if he's Croatian or Bosnian (probably the latter, though), and share stories about Europe and travel and independence. He had come to this country 6 years ago, and now has a reasonably successful business (he gave me his card).
But after he left, and I chit-chatted with some girls, I realized my headache was not going away. I took some advil, lay down, and actually passed right out. But I woke up again when the DJ started to suck. And it wasn't that she sucked, just that B was hugging her and talking to her. I told him I wanted to go home, and he said that was cool, he'd stay, and gave me directions to get out back to the freeway. I got home just as it hit 7am.
Steve bowed out, so at 9:30 I showed up at BP's as I said I would. Of course he was nowhere near ready, just finishing his shower, so I had a drink while he futzed around. We talked a little bit about skiing, and my novel, and even Goedel, Escher, Bach. He had a copy on his coffee table, and I had been reading it before Nick and I broke up (I should get back into it, but as he agreed with me, it's dense and slow-going). It was pretty interesting having a conversation like that with him - I mean I've been to his place and seen the books, he once had Foucalt's Pendulum on his nightstand, but obviously we don't usually interact on that level. So I guess I knew it in the back of my head that he was a bit of an intellectual, but talking to him like that was still a revelation. He offered to read my novel when I finished it, talking about some German youth fantasy that he'd read a while back.
So then we went to pick up his "friend" Angela. They're actually in something of a similar situation to me - dating, but not exclusively, and they actually like hanging out with each other and shit. Which is weird to me, because I spent the past six months flirting with B. He backed off when I was with Joel, but now I'm the one backing off, just because I kind of like Angela. And he seems to care about her, in his own special way.
And then FS, and then to a party in one of those really really nice houses in Cap Hill (damn Microsofters) on 13th. It was a bit too early for the party to be fun, at first, but then as more people got there it got too crowded to breathe. So we just got a little liquored up, took pictures of random people (B got a really fucking cool camera), and drove to the Showbox.
I guess we missed DJ Dan, but Christopher Lawrence was fucking unbelievable, and we had a pretty good time. Angela and I attempted to chat these 3 guys up, but they clearly thought they were above us, refusing to dance with us unless we bought them drinks. WTF? I saw two of them later talking to some generic blond girl who clearly wasn't going to go home with BOTH of them. Geez. Guys suck. But the music was kickass and we got to dance dance revolution.
And about a quarter to two we realize we're going to miss last call at the Contour if we don't leave immediately. Of course we don't, and miss it, but that's ok. I totally sober up and dance with Angela and F, and then watch her eat a hotdog (she kept going on about how hungry she was). So then we chatted up a couple of people - another Angela, and a Ryan - that B met last week apparently. We invite them both to go to my place or F's to drink more, but she wants to dance, and she drove, so no dice. So we go to F's place and drink a little more till Angela is tired and wants to go home. We drop her off and then B says "OK, we're going to the Speakeasy party."
It's 4am, but I'm not too tired, so I say "OK." It's a nice space down in Pioneer Square with a freight elevator to get up there, but the party is about to die, so we only stay for a few minutes. Then he calls the girl who invited us to it, but she doesn't answer. Nonetheless we drive to Upper Queen Anne and see her lights on, pound on the door till we get in. Not a ton of people there, but drugs and wine freely flowing. I don't actually indulge myself, as I still have to drive home. But I do talk to a guy who doesn't specify if he's Croatian or Bosnian (probably the latter, though), and share stories about Europe and travel and independence. He had come to this country 6 years ago, and now has a reasonably successful business (he gave me his card).
But after he left, and I chit-chatted with some girls, I realized my headache was not going away. I took some advil, lay down, and actually passed right out. But I woke up again when the DJ started to suck. And it wasn't that she sucked, just that B was hugging her and talking to her. I told him I wanted to go home, and he said that was cool, he'd stay, and gave me directions to get out back to the freeway. I got home just as it hit 7am.
