I went to a party last night.

I get in, after payin' 4 bucks and rejectin' the beer cup, immediately notice there's a lot of people, and I head into what may or may not be the living room, where I met up with kat and, later, joel, along with the fellows I came with. After standing upstairs, listening to people talk about drugs, specifically mushrooms, I decided to head down w/ TJ, punk-rock-Sean, Nick, Merritt, Smarmy Shawn, and some guys I didn't know. I find a place to sit on a couch and proceed to sit there, watching my roommate, TJ et al do stupid things. Punk-rock-sean was dressed like a member of Judas Priest, and after listening to some Manowar, was wanting to be totally metal, regardless.

I should point out now that P.R. Sean got the clothes from my roommate, Merritt.

I sit there for a while, then, suddenly, about, oh, everyone but 2 of the people I came with decided to leave to go see The Living Canvas thing (AKA Artsy Nekkid People, which was really cool, as I had seen it the night before). So, I'm there, all the way by BroMann hospital, wondering if they've hijacked TJ and Nick (Nick being one with a car). So, I spent the rest of the night sitting on the couch really really really hoping someone was there that would drive me home, all the while really wondering what this girl-with-a-tequila-shirt-on's name was. The GWATSO offered to kiss me when I made some what I thought was below the level of hearing comment about a toll, but I'm pretty sure she was drunk and mistook my beard for a well-tanned and highly defined jawline.

After TJ finally comes downstairs to fetch me as they're about to leave, I run into the GWATSO, who proceeds to grope me and then I leave and get into the car w/ TJ and Nick, and discuss the rather vile, angry vibe that the place had, following a-girl-who-I-should-really-know-her-name-but-don't all over creation, dropping off some-two, and then heading off towards the other side of Bloomington, ending up at someone-who-I-don't-know's house, and then I proceed to sit in a corner, listening to two kids, what I assume to be 20 year olds in Tommy Hilfinger gear, talking like gray haired forty-year olds wearing plaid on a golf course. Corporate Ravers. After listening to the Corpo-Ravers talk about Phat Pants and indications of rebelliousness and, therefore, a possible peer-to-peer marketing technique, and how Phat Pants (and they spoke like it was copywritten) were no longer indicative of true "Raveness" (I shit you not), and how the new label was 611, which means that they really want to be twice as cool as 311, but they can't do math very well (not to mention the fact that 311 sucks).

I then walked up to TJ, who was sitting in another corner in a lay-z-boy-esque seat talking to the above AGWISRKHRNBD girl, then, magically, a loveseat opened up, and she sat there, and TJ and Nick sat there, and I finally had seat to myself, and I watched the TV w/ some group (whoever did the theme to Trainspotting {the DVD was Underworld:Live, I have found out since then}) throwing this insanely huge gig, looking like the old pictures of Woodstock with the half a million people, and I got to watch people doing Air-Turntables, which looks kind of like Air-Guitar except less bad-ass and less aware of the self-parody aspect.

Then, we left, and I went home, and that was really the end of the evening, of which I found myself strangely upset, not only that I was abandoned not just once, but in all actuality twice, being taken to this house where I knew 2 people, the ones I had come with, and only one of them at all on the wellness scale, my anchors ripped up by these people I had never met, and, in all honesty, don't really care if I ever do, and torn away, and basically left knowing no-one, sitting in a corner, listening to stupid people talk about even stupider things. This whole last bit is my fault, I should have introduced myself, but I fully blame the first one on others, however, I thought of walking home (which was approx. from where the Lafayette Club all the way to my house, which is on the other side of the ISU campus), and decided, should I freeze to death, it wouldn't be that bad, really, compared to continued presence in the house with teenage-ravers drinking and pot-smoking and fuck knows what else running upstairs, into the bathroom for time-intervals far less than even the fastest piss in the West, all the while missing my girlfriend with ever increasing intensity, probably due to the above GWATSO and a really nasty case of curiosity.

Later, while talking to Smarmy Shawn (who was among those who had left me the first time), he said that he had tried to talk to people, but was simply ignored, and when he tried to talk to someone who didn't ignore him, another man made it perfectly clear by repeated elbows to his back that, "You're not supposed to talk to her, she's mine," as in ownership.

I've decided, basically, that though I like some electronic music a lot, that it's just not worth it 90% of the time to deal with such assholes to listen to shitty House that, while I support, don't really care for. Sorry. I hope you know what I mean.

But, all and all, it sucked, and I'm not sure who the blame lies with on this one.

I did learn something, though, I learned that the average woman deals with 3.5 ass grab/hour at a party, and I learned the very definition of a perky buttocks, thanks to a girl wearing really tight polka-dot spandex that were so tight if she were to bend over I'm almost positive I could see the creases of her anal sphincter.