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Two parties, one friday

2005-12-23 - 7:45 p.m.

Soundtrack:

Sublime, "Jail House"

The Pogues: "If I should fall from grace with God"

Being that it's 33 degrees outside--which for winter Wisconsin may as well be a fucking heat wave--I'd planned on doing photography tonight. My polyester super-soft fuzzy bathrobe and lightless apartment do tempt a fella, however.

So for the time being, I'm going to play catch-up. This has become the norm more than the exception, but I'm only slightly apologetic. Life is fun to live--that and exams don't grade themselves, although I hear Googhell may solve that one.

* * *

Last Friday

I'm torturing you with ancient history. I know. Evil. Mean it.

As protozoa were first developing flagellating propeller arm thingies and the cosmos congealed, I got up, got dressed, and went directly to the lab. Normally I'd have gnauched on something, but lucky me there was a pot-luck lab party/care staff appreciation meeting that day.

I figured I had time enough for my take-home stats final. That and I'd never really stayed at one of these things.

Choir girls lightly sang melodic Christmas tunes as the last of several dishes landed on the table runway. People were already taking up plates and gathering bbq mini-weenies, Hebrew kugel (el-fucking-yum!), some sub-par lasagna (but never tell my advisor that), and finally Rocky's pizza. Being the 18-25 guy I am, I took one plate of pizza, one with light scatterings of the pot-luck stuff.

The apple juice I'd brought sat around dejectedly as I sat, ate, and began talking with Dennis' long-time boyfriend, Mich. Dennis had been the assistant director for our lab before moving on to other pastures. Dr. C, my advisor, had been pissed at the guy about some payroll problems earlier, but I guess all was well.

It ended up being that Mich and I talked for most of the time I was there. He's in his early 50's and was wearing a Rolling Stones jacket, tongue t-shirt, and those pin-hole glasses partway down his nose. I learned he was an antique dealer and occasionally mentioned collecting this or that odd-end. We also talked about his near death experience. See, back when I had been at the lab for several months, Dennis was out a lot to see Mich, on account of the guy was having terrible, terrible back pain and pain problems in general. If I remember right, he'd pushed himself hard enough that he ended up rupturing an internal organ. It was so bad he had to be hospitalized. His doctors at one time weren't sure he would make it.

But slowly, Mich recovered. He liked to frequent the mediterranean cafe around here, same like me, and I'm guessing Feis suggested he tried accupuncture. After 2 sessions his pain was gone. Quite staggering, really, considering I know how painful external surgery can be. I can't even imagine internal shit and back problems on top of that.

After some more time passed and I had some dessert, along with my 3rd can of soda, Mich said he should be rolling on out soon but that we should do dinner out some time. I thought this was a groovy idea. It ended up being, though, that he, me, and Dr. C got to talking about some of the furniture in the main office, some of Dr. C's oak tables he wanted to sell, and some assorted bits about the on-going war and the price tag. It was obvious from the get-go Mich was liberal in persuasion, and I am for social issues and foreign policy so that worked.

After he left, I ended up going around and talking to a lot of people. I felt really sociable that day and, I don't know, it was as if everyone was being extremely nice and pleasant. Not that they aren't usually, but somehow it came across more than usual. So I felt special and as if I belonged in that place. I got a few nice gifts from people, including some 'Monkey Bay' white wine from Dr. C. It's an occupational hazard: whatever is monkey-related gets incorporated in the lab or given as a gift.

I was in a great mood.

Just as a note about Mich, I hadn't gotten an email back from him until a few days ago. But he and Dennis wanna do dinner at their place sometime. I think it's awesome. I miss hanging out with people way out of my age range. Did it all the time as a teenager. There used to be the gay businessman Johnnie Little and his crew. The game zone people I did role-playing with some weekends, assorted individuals I met through people I knew in those two groups, and my mom's friends. I soak up experience like that.

* * *

Later that same friday: Dan-mas

I had not one but TWO parties last week. The one starting at night was a surprise party for Dan, a 3rd year student and a mutual friend of me and one of my close friends, Brian.

I'm trying to think of how I filled the time in-between 2:30pm and 7:45pm. I guess I made up some test questions for the abnormal exam and may have worked on stats some. I guess that's just how thrilling work was.

So let's fast-forward this shit to the good part.

Around 7:20 or so, I was up in my 6th floor office, alone as per the ush(ual) at night. I'd just finished up the abnormal exam, mailed it to Jeff (the prof for the class), and decided some alcohol and chocolate was in order. It was cold outside, and I walked quickly to keep the circulation going.

I got there a little early of the actual start time. I was surprised a decent number of people were already there. Some I didn't recognize, others were psych grad students that I didn't often see, and of course there was Brian and a few psych grad regulars. Originally Hill was going to come and Sven was going to gate-crash, but Hill's friend Kari and her boyfriend were only sticking around a little while and she figured it wasn't worth it.

Kari said hello to me and smiled as I came in. I'd thought we were just going to ignore each other, but hey, I don't mind being civil to friends of friends. So we briefly chatted, her boyfriend grunted at me, I noted in my mind he looked kinda like a young mob boss, and I went off to get beer. Curiously, there was a time I genuinely liked her and wanted to get to know her friend-wise. Then I met her friend Hillary through a previous Dan party. And ever since I started hanging with Hill a lot, she's been under the impression I'm not good enough to be Hill's friend. Never read about that one, but I was sufficiently insulted, partly because she's smiles and niceness to me face-to-face. I can understand her concern--she loves Hill and is protective I think. Doesn't mean I like the 'tude.

So bypassing that, I stole ale from God's snow-frozen cooler on the back porch. I decided to hang in the kitchen. Meg was being, well, Meg, talking absently and making the special dan-nog whatnot. Mass Communication/Psych chick (MCP chick) and I got to talking about her field, bullshit surrounding the scientific enterprise, yadda yadda. Later on Brian came in and got on his soap box about social psychology. Basically, he argued that social gets a lot of shit for not being objective enough. I of course argued with him when I could get a word in edge-wise. I figured the demi-god psychologists at the National Institutes of Health were still focused on one thing: legitimacy. Psychology is still trying to put on a pretty prom dress and swing her stuff with the other sciences. So that means ditching social psychology a little for brain mapping, drugs, all that good, hands-on shit. My point didn't make a dent, so Brian ended up repeating himself a few times to MCP chick and some ugly dude.

Later on, 30 people got crammed into the kitchen while we waited for Katie (Dan's g/f) to drag his ass home so we could surprise him. And surprise we did. Even though he'd seen his own b-day cake being baked (which he thought was an end of the semester cake), and had several other things passed under his nose, he was blown away by our off-key singing. Xtian had put up holiday cloth trails on the walls which sported digital photos of Dan looking Dan, cans of spam on the fireplace hearth (because Dan's nickname as a kid was spam), and reams of lettering spelling out 'happy danmas!' That boy is so cute when he gets so goddamned OCD. A bearded dan friend dude had made Dan-friendly christmas carols. So we sang about hand-rolled joints, special brownies, poster presentations, and a partridge in a pear tree/Ph.D in psychology.

After that, Brian occasionally fed us boyos shots of shit that tasted like mouthwash and Jagermeister. I hadn't had a shot of Jager since my freshman year, but it was kinder than what I remembered.

Eventually, the more or less usual group of people were hanging around. The MCP chick and a potential prospect left kinda early, sadly. And they both had boyfriends even yet more sadly. Well not sadly really, more like eh.

The highlight of the late party was Brian getting stoned and drunk. Not nearly as stoned and drunk as the first party Hill and I met at, but pretty damn gone. Someone had decided to hide the old man cardigan sweater Brian had been wearing most of the night. He kept asking people where his sweater was. Then he threatened us with getting naked. And sure enough, off came his shirt. And with a sagging gut he unashamedly said more of that shit was coming and, oh, where was his sweater. By this time I was laughing so hard I was crying. Off came the pants next as he gestured, palms up.

And then, even unexpectedly for Brian, he pulled down his boxers and bared his ass at us. I fucking lost it. I think most of us did. I think someone finally pointed to where it was, under a couch cushion. Brian was smiling in his drunken triumph. "Yeah bitches, that--is my sweater" I think he said. After awhile, Lindsay showed up, got kinda close, and we chatted some. On occasion we've kinda wondered 'hey, why not?', but we're too much alike. That and she's got a rep for taking a high-heel to the heart of many a man. Which is weird, since she's really nice and sweet.

As I gradually came to the realization I hadn't even approached drunk during that night, someone suggested that Brian's shoes get gone. I decided what the fuck and hid them. I felt like a mischievious fucker, so why not. He didn't strip again, but he did steal Xtian's christmas hat and threatened to hold it until someone got him his shoes. He'd thought Lindsay had hid them, since she was playing along with the game and asked him to go out on a walk with her. I ended up thwacking Brian with a pillow as he twisted up her legs (good-naturedly, of course). Apparently a pillow wasn't a great bargaining tool. Later on, just as Becky was gathering us to get gone, I finally snuck around, put the shoes in plain sight, and just sorta shrugged to Brian about it with a smile.

And thus ended the friday of two parties.

Next up: shooting pool with Brian, finals crap, hanging with Hill, drinking with Brian, more hanging with Hill, and finishing--nearly--final's crap.

Hopefully this won't be around New Years.

Ohhh, and re: photography, I do think tonight is the best for it. Hands won't fall off. Did that once in Detroit. Couldn't even feel 'em, but those were some awesome Ford plant shots.

I finally found my dagger again, so I'll be much happier going out. The bastard needs some heavy whetstoning, but it'll do.

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