I decided to make a big push to be social. I went to TWO parties on Saturday. I was almost a little shocked by my wild, partying ways. It was great to see people. Although, the first party was a little awkward. I’m still friends with the guy who I went out with from POG. They were having a benefit party/concert to raise funds to pay off their legal expenses. They were arrested protesting at an anti-nazi rally. Did they really accomplish anything? No. I only went to see my ex. I was dressed nicely in heels, nice jeans, and a nice sweater. I knew I was going to stand out, but the shock didn’t quite hit me until I arrived. I was most definitely the only person there in normal “civilian clothes”. I didn’t have any curly peircings protruding from the middle of my nose, or hair that had been senza-shampoo for more than 2 weeks. I had on heels. Need we say more? I got more than my fair share of strange looks. But I gave 10 bucks and stood around politely. “The anarchist” dealt with the strangeness pretty well but he’s still kinda doing the same thing he’s always been doing. He was wearing the same exact hoody that he was wearing 3 years ago when I met him. It made me feel strange and I’m not exactly sure why. About 15 minutes later, the person giving me a ride to the other party called. I said bye and I have a feeling I won’t see him again for awhile. I just don’t think he could handle the fact that I didn’t really fit in with his friends.
My business partner flew in on Sunday and I find it hard to comprehend that today is only Monday. We cleaned out the apartment he always stays at, got down to work, and went around East Liberty in search of a blender. We each have our obsessive quirks. Mine is trying to evangelize the world to use del.icio.us, his is making smoothies. After a couple hours, we found the blender. Thank God.
There was only one thing that my business partner wanted from Italy–and that was Italian made, designer dress socks. Supposedly, as the story goes, his were stolen at a laundromat in New York City. Somehow, I find it hard to believe that someone would steal his dress socks– no matter the designer name. However, this what he wanted and since he ran pretty much everything while I was away, I consented to go find these damn socks. It took me quite some time to figure out where one goes to find men’s dress socks in Italy. Finally, I found them a couple days before leaving. I triumphantly presented him with his Emporio Armani socks yesterday. I hope to never have to find men’s dress socks ever again.
We were meeting with a graphic designer tonight for dinner. Since my biz partner’s apartment is near the Quiet Storm, we decided to head over there. I’ve found that wearing boring clothes is a very efficient way to dress myself. Nice jeans, button down shirt, some kind of normal shoes. I was running back from Club 1 (which I got a membership to today) and I had on well, the above prescription plus my preppy clogs. I’m sorry. It’s just people buy this stuff for a reason sometimes…Oh, and perhaps, a bit ashamedly, my North Face fleece. It’s warm, it’s comfortable, it looks okay. I will repeat this to myself every time I feel bad about wearing it. Obviously, walking into the Quiet Storm in this attire brought about the same feelings as the party on saturday. But, seeing as my partner and I were hiring a local designer, I pretty much said, “f-it” in my head. Who’s creating employment? We’re creating employment. Plus, we were incredibly friendly to the waitress and we left a decent tip. So who cares what I was wearing. I still felt kinda weird. Oh well.
Tomorrow I’m meeting a friend after work at the Sharp Edge. It’ll be my first time meeting someone at a bar. Hah! Finally!
I also have to get my learner’s permit all over again in order to get my license. I never quite got my license and then I had two seizures which resulted in a year long time span where I wasn’t legally allowed to drive. It’s finally been more than six months and I’m on a mission to get this license. I’m getting the physical fitness section filled out Wednesday by my doctor. I’m gonna make my brother take me to the DMV when he comes back from India on Thursday.
I went to an aerobics class this evening at Club 1. It was funny because it’s the first time I’ve ever taken an aerobics class in English. I suddenly realized that I didn’t have to just watch her feet, but that, these moves had names…and she was saying them in my language! It got a bit easier after that. Man, I learned on the streets–we don’t have names for things! Or well, I didn’t know the names for things. All I knew was that there was a left and a right– and that was the basic name for everything. Left or Right.
I got home exhausted and turned on an NBA game. After about 15 minutes of it, I found myself wandering downstairs and plopping down at my piano. I had started to play again on saturday and found myself once again working out the location and name of the notes I had forgotten on the treble clef. My mom will read this at some point and think to herself, “I told her so. I told her she would want to know how to play piano when she was older.” Well, yeah. My mom’s right…as usual. She is my mom, after all.
Alright, goodnight folks.
-Me-
