party
This was originally written on 09.02.2002
Last night at the Garrison show, Marius handed me a little flyer he had made for a party he was having tonight. He told me that I should come. Well, as party time approached, I was, being my usual, non-gregarious self, a bit worried. As I walked the short distance to the Marchmont neighborhood, I even thought about turning around and just spend the rest of the evening struggling with computer architecture and reading Rushdie. I walked on though, and took a deep breath before heading up to the party. It was pretty small when I got there. Marius greeted me and showed me around the flat. The Pop Idols final was on the tele, and Marius said that he reckoned that was the reason not many people had shown up yet. Well, the kid with the stutter lost, and as if on cue, kids started showing up. I don’t go to parties, and usually don’t have fun when I do, but I found tonight that parties are definitely more fun when you go alone. Back in Columbus, at a party, you just see your friends and talk about the same sort of things that you would talk about any other time. If someone wants to bail, you feel obligated to go as well, and most people don’t seem like they’re having much fun anyway. When you go alone, it’s sink or swim and you have to just go out and try to meet new people. That’s definitely a good scenario for someone in a new place, because meeting people can be hard. Going abroad has been good for me for a number of reasons, but one of the biggest is that it’s forced me to be more outgoing and to meet people and go out with them rather than hole myself up in my room. At the party, I met an American who studies at Smith, and her Austrian friend. We talked about politics, and the Austrian political climate in general. The most interesting thing that I found, was that the Austrian said that the rightward shift in Austrian politics was portrayed somewhat unfairly by the media as similar movements were gaining ground in Spain and France as well. I always find it fascinating to get different perspectives on government and politics, though I guess I should feel a little guilty for talking about politics at a party. I later met another Austrian, and spoke with her about the normal student stuff: courses, traveling, music, etc. The most interesting part of the conversation was when we both realized that we knew Dana and had that odd small world realization feeling. At about 13:00, I was feeling pretty tired and decided to head back home. I said goodbye to Marius, thanked him for the invite, and told him I hoped to make it to the Piebald show during the upcoming week.
I thought that I’d get to go straight to bed, with maybe a little late night reading. That was not to be. When I came in, Pete and Iain’s friend from A-deen were talking in the common room. When I had first met Iain’s friend Colin (or Cullen, I’m not sure) (actually, I now think it’s Collum)he seemed pretty quiet. Definitely not a walking liability like certain anectdotes seemed to indicate. Well, I can now see why the latter characterisation might be more accurate. This kid is madness. When pished, he is a character and a half, and a truly hilarious and engaging storyteller to boot. When I came in, he was telling Pete a story about how he almost went to bed with a friend’s forty-something mother. This led way to a re-telling of the infamous Volvo through a fence story, which led to a diatribe about his Super Bowl viewing experience. I was a bit unnerved when he started talking about how much he loved the confederacy and how he always supports a southern team over a northern one (for some reason he considered St. Louis part of the deep south). I could have tried to set him straight, but he could hardly remember my name, so I’m guessing he wouldn’t have walked away with much, even if I had tried to reason with him. He eventually departed, and I was left alone with Pete. This weekend, evidently had been a hard one for the kid, and he had some troubles with his girlfriend. I think that they broke up, or at least agreed to take the relationship down a notch. It seemed like Pete was fairly upset, and it reminded me of when I ran into him at Cavendish earlier that week and he told me that he felt like he was “pulling his own bird”. That idea struck me as really tragic and I hope I never have to feel like I’m trying to win my sigoth over after a long absence. So, we talked about that for awhile. It was an akward conversation, the sort where someone you don’t know really well tells you more about themselves than you expected. Furthermore, I’m never sure if I should just listen attentively, or try to offer some sort of advice.