Now playing: Solas - Boy / Girl Tune
via FoxyTunes
- Next time we throw a party, we're having more food, or more control over the bar.
- I really want a USFA rating. Evidently I'm good enough, but it looks like I'm really gonna have to earn it through multiple tries at rated events. Look for me at DFA when open tournaments roll around, I should have a new body cord by then (for the record, it's really frightening when you're in your DE's and it looks like all your equipment is failing due to a single wire being out of place)
- I need to start my Latin paper and finish it in a week, and as usual, I'm being a lazy bastard. I'm getting on it as soon as I finish writing this post, damn it.
- I'm really warming up to Umberto Eco. I devoured The Name of the Rose and a collection of his short articles, and am now relishing (mostly) Baudolino. I should get back and finish Focault's Pendulum one of these days.
- Whenever I have a sip of green Chartreuse, I tend to wig out like Stansfield after a dose. It's that damn intense. I'm switching to the yellow because the taste is darn interesting, but I don't want to feel like I'm drinking straight Absinthe (which is roughly the same proof).
Enough, More Later.
- James
Showing posts with label Party. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Party. Show all posts
Monday, November 05, 2007
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Quis custodiet ipso custodem?
Currently in earphones: Corvus Corax's Cantus Buranus
Well, let me just say that I'm quite pleased with how Phil's 21st B-day Bash went, not that it was entirely different from the other house parties we've been having, but that I've finally found my place among them.
Earlier I posted about how I like to have some time to myself, how I can only handle so much at a time. This still kinda applies, but another side of it was that getting drunk and making a fool of myself that usually constitutes "partying" (when it comes to this type of shindig) doesn't appeal to me (well, the getting drunk part, at least, I can be a goofy son-of-a-gun dead sober to begin with).
After the real party peoples started showing up last night, I made my usual retreat to my room, but after a while realized I was still up to socializing. After all, there were some really good friends of mine out there who I would have loved to stay and hobnob with (not that I didn't do so beforehand, the crowds triggered my solitary sense). After going out and aimlessly standing about, I realized that there were quite an abundance of empty bottles and cups sitting around, so I did what I do best and cleaned them up.
As I did so, and noticed that the trash needed to be taken out as well, I realized that I was feeling better in the act of cleaning up. I normally take pleasure in keeping things clean to begin with, and I suddenly found a new place within the festivities. I could keep things in a reasonable order, therefore giving me a sense of purpose within the shindig, and use that to amble around and chat with people. Without that sense of purpose, I felt like a vagrant, joining in conversations here and there, but without any real sense of belonging. Suddenly, I had a reason to be hanging out with a bunch of people I didn't know (not to mention those who I did, but that wouldn't have stopped me to begin with). It felt wonderful.
Maybe it was also because I didn't have to deal with any over-enthusiastic drunks, maybe it was because the party was smaller than before. But whatever the reason, I have suddenly found my calling. It probably also helped that there were people there from all over, so I wasn't the only one who was standing off to the side. I had fun assuring the new arrivals that I would be remaining sober for the evening, and if they needed anything to simply ask. It felt so good to find my niche, that of responsible host, and doing so was awesome.
Also, I'm getting used to the fact that when I tell people I only have a drink or two at parties, they treat me with pity. As if I didn't enjoy remaining sober! "All the better to remember your shenanigans, my dear."
Enough, More Later.
- James
Well, let me just say that I'm quite pleased with how Phil's 21st B-day Bash went, not that it was entirely different from the other house parties we've been having, but that I've finally found my place among them.
Earlier I posted about how I like to have some time to myself, how I can only handle so much at a time. This still kinda applies, but another side of it was that getting drunk and making a fool of myself that usually constitutes "partying" (when it comes to this type of shindig) doesn't appeal to me (well, the getting drunk part, at least, I can be a goofy son-of-a-gun dead sober to begin with).
After the real party peoples started showing up last night, I made my usual retreat to my room, but after a while realized I was still up to socializing. After all, there were some really good friends of mine out there who I would have loved to stay and hobnob with (not that I didn't do so beforehand, the crowds triggered my solitary sense). After going out and aimlessly standing about, I realized that there were quite an abundance of empty bottles and cups sitting around, so I did what I do best and cleaned them up.
As I did so, and noticed that the trash needed to be taken out as well, I realized that I was feeling better in the act of cleaning up. I normally take pleasure in keeping things clean to begin with, and I suddenly found a new place within the festivities. I could keep things in a reasonable order, therefore giving me a sense of purpose within the shindig, and use that to amble around and chat with people. Without that sense of purpose, I felt like a vagrant, joining in conversations here and there, but without any real sense of belonging. Suddenly, I had a reason to be hanging out with a bunch of people I didn't know (not to mention those who I did, but that wouldn't have stopped me to begin with). It felt wonderful.
Maybe it was also because I didn't have to deal with any over-enthusiastic drunks, maybe it was because the party was smaller than before. But whatever the reason, I have suddenly found my calling. It probably also helped that there were people there from all over, so I wasn't the only one who was standing off to the side. I had fun assuring the new arrivals that I would be remaining sober for the evening, and if they needed anything to simply ask. It felt so good to find my niche, that of responsible host, and doing so was awesome.
Also, I'm getting used to the fact that when I tell people I only have a drink or two at parties, they treat me with pity. As if I didn't enjoy remaining sober! "All the better to remember your shenanigans, my dear."
Enough, More Later.
- James
Friday, March 30, 2007
The Need for Solitude
Currently in Earphones: The soft susserations of a party down the hall.
Well, as long as I'm taking a break from the hullabaloo, I might as well write a short journal entry as to my character concerning the subject.
I have often found myself at the cusp of some group event, perhaps one I didn't have much interest in, but always in these instances with a sense of disquiet. It's the oddest feeling, almost like the flight response, but calm and collected. At these times I seek the refuge of a quiet room, or a quiet place, away from the noise and jollity, and the only way I can articulate this feeling and desire is to say that my senses need a break.
If it comes on strong enough, I'll sneak away as soon as the coast is clear, often abandoning companions in mid-walk. I don't mean to say that I don't enjoy their company, or would not enjoy a shindig or get-together, it is simply that, at that point, I have no desire to be trapped in a large group. Call it claustrophobia, call it anti-social tendencies, it is all and neither. I don't bear any ill-will toward the event or people that I run away from, I simply need to be alone.
I have explained as much to my good friends, and they are of the highest character in accepting and supporting this odd tendency when it comes up. Perhaps it is just part of who I am, but I feel such anxiousness and a growing sense of things not-being-right that sometimes I wonder if such things are products of something in the past.
Regardless of origin, it is simply something that is who I am. I wish I could explain it better, but until then, if I'm around a party or some such and disappear, nothing is wrong, I merely crave solitude.
Enough, More Later.
- James
Well, as long as I'm taking a break from the hullabaloo, I might as well write a short journal entry as to my character concerning the subject.
I have often found myself at the cusp of some group event, perhaps one I didn't have much interest in, but always in these instances with a sense of disquiet. It's the oddest feeling, almost like the flight response, but calm and collected. At these times I seek the refuge of a quiet room, or a quiet place, away from the noise and jollity, and the only way I can articulate this feeling and desire is to say that my senses need a break.
If it comes on strong enough, I'll sneak away as soon as the coast is clear, often abandoning companions in mid-walk. I don't mean to say that I don't enjoy their company, or would not enjoy a shindig or get-together, it is simply that, at that point, I have no desire to be trapped in a large group. Call it claustrophobia, call it anti-social tendencies, it is all and neither. I don't bear any ill-will toward the event or people that I run away from, I simply need to be alone.
I have explained as much to my good friends, and they are of the highest character in accepting and supporting this odd tendency when it comes up. Perhaps it is just part of who I am, but I feel such anxiousness and a growing sense of things not-being-right that sometimes I wonder if such things are products of something in the past.
Regardless of origin, it is simply something that is who I am. I wish I could explain it better, but until then, if I'm around a party or some such and disappear, nothing is wrong, I merely crave solitude.
Enough, More Later.
- James
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