(no subject)
Going to a party alone, not knowing a single soul, is a pretty ballsy move, or so I was told last night. Last night was a mildly interesting night, untill I let my issues get the best of me of course. So I get all sorts of cute, get mah hair did, put on lots of thick, dark, hot make up, roll up my fishnets, put on my combat boots. I was quite adorable actually. Then around nine I ride down the road to find "Turtle"'s house.
When I first get there, it's just a few people, I start introducing myself a little, have a couple shots of Jack Daniels. After a while I've made a couple of aquaintances of the couch. I go outside for a smoke and one of my aquaintances, a sixty year old man from Philly, asks if i would like to partake in a little marijuana. Of course. We're smoking when more people start to come outside, and this cool as, crazy as fuck, brilliant guy brings out this huge hookah, and proceeds to smoke rosewater flavored tobbacco from it. Then the most remarkable character I met all night- enter Vermont girl. I will call her this because I know now her name. The brilliant hookah guy talks on about how architects are assholes, and how he is one, and asks what we all do. I tell him about being a poet, and he is instantly fascinated. He says it is so admirable, such a beautiful passion, such a difficult choice to make. It was very flattering, but his perception of.. what it's like to write poetry was very accurate to say the least.
So, back to Vermont girl. We start talking a little bit... And we start to discover these strangely conincidental things between us. We're both eighteen. She flew out to visit california on September tenth, I the twelfth. We both knew not one person at the party. We were both going back home to the east coast after christmas. We both lived in the high desert. We were both the wallflowers of the party as well. I sat outside for about half an hour while all the people around me were saying how it was cold as balls and couldn't believe I was sitting out there. It was good to adjust to the cold. Of course, by this time I was so fucking high and starting to feel really anti-social, which is not a good thing when you're at a party and you don't know a single person. Very bad, actually. Eventually I go inside and I'm starting to feel a little overwhelmed, a little sick from the drinking and the smoking, but not bad since I didn't drink much at all. So I hover over to the couch and my new girl comes to sit in the living room with me. There is the longest silence.... and all the quiet people gravitate to the living room and sit on the couches. Our room is like the sore thumb of the whole party, and the longer I sit the more out of place I am. There are a thousand voices, over and over and over and the more they talk the more I feel pressured, the more I feel like I should be talking, the more I feel like by not talking for so long I have distanced myself from the crowd better than anyone else.
I got up to grab some crackers, my stomach was pissed that I drank... when I got back, my girl was gone. At this point, the host "turtle" walks over and says "Don't be shy, Rheana."... and I think... "Why the fuck not?" I grab my keys and walk out the back door, through the drunken guitar playing on the back porch, to my car. As I'm driving away, it hits me. I should have gotten her number. I don't know why. I missed out on her. I think she reminded me so much of myself and... that made her so beautiful to me. I should have stayed only for her. I think that is something I will regret, if I don't already. She was.... discoverable.
When I first get there, it's just a few people, I start introducing myself a little, have a couple shots of Jack Daniels. After a while I've made a couple of aquaintances of the couch. I go outside for a smoke and one of my aquaintances, a sixty year old man from Philly, asks if i would like to partake in a little marijuana. Of course. We're smoking when more people start to come outside, and this cool as, crazy as fuck, brilliant guy brings out this huge hookah, and proceeds to smoke rosewater flavored tobbacco from it. Then the most remarkable character I met all night- enter Vermont girl. I will call her this because I know now her name. The brilliant hookah guy talks on about how architects are assholes, and how he is one, and asks what we all do. I tell him about being a poet, and he is instantly fascinated. He says it is so admirable, such a beautiful passion, such a difficult choice to make. It was very flattering, but his perception of.. what it's like to write poetry was very accurate to say the least.
So, back to Vermont girl. We start talking a little bit... And we start to discover these strangely conincidental things between us. We're both eighteen. She flew out to visit california on September tenth, I the twelfth. We both knew not one person at the party. We were both going back home to the east coast after christmas. We both lived in the high desert. We were both the wallflowers of the party as well. I sat outside for about half an hour while all the people around me were saying how it was cold as balls and couldn't believe I was sitting out there. It was good to adjust to the cold. Of course, by this time I was so fucking high and starting to feel really anti-social, which is not a good thing when you're at a party and you don't know a single person. Very bad, actually. Eventually I go inside and I'm starting to feel a little overwhelmed, a little sick from the drinking and the smoking, but not bad since I didn't drink much at all. So I hover over to the couch and my new girl comes to sit in the living room with me. There is the longest silence.... and all the quiet people gravitate to the living room and sit on the couches. Our room is like the sore thumb of the whole party, and the longer I sit the more out of place I am. There are a thousand voices, over and over and over and the more they talk the more I feel pressured, the more I feel like I should be talking, the more I feel like by not talking for so long I have distanced myself from the crowd better than anyone else.
I got up to grab some crackers, my stomach was pissed that I drank... when I got back, my girl was gone. At this point, the host "turtle" walks over and says "Don't be shy, Rheana."... and I think... "Why the fuck not?" I grab my keys and walk out the back door, through the drunken guitar playing on the back porch, to my car. As I'm driving away, it hits me. I should have gotten her number. I don't know why. I missed out on her. I think she reminded me so much of myself and... that made her so beautiful to me. I should have stayed only for her. I think that is something I will regret, if I don't already. She was.... discoverable.