After Party

I left quite a mess behind...

Why, at my age, do I think its cool to come home at three o clock in the morning and pass out while sitting at the kitchen table? This is my contribution to the Vancouver art scene. My drunkenness, in places without televisions. Saturday night I went to a party hosted by some UBC students, no TV, oblivious to the fact that the entire city was enraptured in a triple overtime nail biter with the Calgary flames. We would acquire regular updates by piling into a friends car on the street, listening for the score. Ahh, the northern lifestyle.

I wore a shirt with a flower pattern, I was convinced to buy it one afternoon, several years ago. Its quite feminine looking, and I have never really been too sure about it. One of those garments that you never really like wearing, but for some reason keep wearing it, hoping each time you put it on it will look different, only to realize it doesn't. The whole process repeats itself a month or two later.

Back to the party. I spent most of the time at the end of a large kitchen table, curious to see how many people would come and sit with me. I did alright, within a half hour I had a large group of people watching me weigh things with a scale that for some reason was sitting in the middle of the table. A small package of dry pasta, photographs, a can of tuna, and a screw driver, each item scrutinized for their weight in this world. My audience was amazed at my skill with the scale, its all about balance.

It was as a house party should be, crowded kitchen, loud music, furniture was broken, drinks were spilled. It went late into the wee hours.... I arrived home completely fine, until I decided to smoke some pot, which I usually like to have as a night cap, always makes the hangover a little easier to take the next day. Within minutes my head was on the table, in front of my g4 laptop. I woke up on my bed, still dressed in my floral print shirt, jeans, and shoes. At least I didn't have to think about what I would wear for my trip to IKEA, I rather like awaking pre-dressed. I went over to shut the lid on my laptop which I had left open and noticed that before I passed out I was google image searching the key words das boat, I have no idea why.

Each night this weekend I walked from the west end, along Robson street, to my final destination. Since moving downtown, walking busy avenues has made quite an impression on me. Strolling the arcades, after a couple drinks, cigarette in hand, music blaring in my ears, its a fine thing. Everyone out, eating dinner, drinking on the patios, wearing sunglasses even though its dark, silly, but its the city. One of the many things I love about my new urban neighborhood is that I can wear whatever I want, floral shirts, flooded pants, yes, even sunglasses at night, if I so choose. It goes largely unnoticed, this is a good thing. I belong here.

Summer is coming, I suspect it will be a good one.