Another day, another year
The clock struck midnight and I said Happy New Year to the three or so people who were actually online. Then I opened a book, and read until I fell asleep.
Don't get me wrong, I tried to whole celebration thing.
Terry picked me up at 7 pm and we went over to some girl's house for a party. There were five of us, and I figure since a girl is hosting the party, we must be supplying the guys. We arrive and she's there with three other guys. Eight guys, one girl. A girl's dream come true, a guy's worst nightmare. There were better ratios at parties back at Drexel.
It was early though and Asian people seldom show up on time. I decided to give it some time. And then my head started hurting.
At 10:30, three more girls showed up, followed by two more guys. Ten to four, getting closer to Drexel ratios. It wasn't what I expected, but some of the fellows made conversation.
At some point, one of the girls asked how old we were. I was the oldest at 23, while the others said 21 and 22. We asked how old she was, and she said 17, but almost 18, like the "almost" part made some kind of significance. She then said the others were 16.
My head really started to hurt. The two guys that followed the three girls set up a laptop with logitech speakers, and the one guy started queueing up the winamp list like he was some kind of high tech DJ. No offense to him, since I give him props for wanting to set up some kind of music to break up the dullness of the whole thing, but logitech speakers aren't made to be turned up to eleven.
If you ever have a headache, put your head in a cardboard box filled with marbles, and shake it while some girl screams dance/house lyrics into your ear. That's me. Twenty-three and already crying like an old geezer.
At 11, Tony went to go pick up another one of our friends. I pretended to go with him, got into my car, and drove straight home.
Sure, the headache, loud music, and underaged girls are probably all excuses to the ultimate underlying truth in the whole matter: I'm just fuckin anti-social. I can admit that. To some degree I am.
Maybe I'm just done new years though. Did it so many times before. I've woken with hangovers, remembered hugging toilets, did all the drinking games, counted all the countdowns, and screamed HAPPY NEW YEAR many times already. Maybe this year, New Years was just another day.
And this is the beginning of just another year.
The clock struck midnight and I said Happy New Year to the three or so people who were actually online. Then I opened a book, and read until I fell asleep.
Don't get me wrong, I tried to whole celebration thing.
Terry picked me up at 7 pm and we went over to some girl's house for a party. There were five of us, and I figure since a girl is hosting the party, we must be supplying the guys. We arrive and she's there with three other guys. Eight guys, one girl. A girl's dream come true, a guy's worst nightmare. There were better ratios at parties back at Drexel.
It was early though and Asian people seldom show up on time. I decided to give it some time. And then my head started hurting.
At 10:30, three more girls showed up, followed by two more guys. Ten to four, getting closer to Drexel ratios. It wasn't what I expected, but some of the fellows made conversation.
At some point, one of the girls asked how old we were. I was the oldest at 23, while the others said 21 and 22. We asked how old she was, and she said 17, but almost 18, like the "almost" part made some kind of significance. She then said the others were 16.
My head really started to hurt. The two guys that followed the three girls set up a laptop with logitech speakers, and the one guy started queueing up the winamp list like he was some kind of high tech DJ. No offense to him, since I give him props for wanting to set up some kind of music to break up the dullness of the whole thing, but logitech speakers aren't made to be turned up to eleven.
If you ever have a headache, put your head in a cardboard box filled with marbles, and shake it while some girl screams dance/house lyrics into your ear. That's me. Twenty-three and already crying like an old geezer.
At 11, Tony went to go pick up another one of our friends. I pretended to go with him, got into my car, and drove straight home.
Sure, the headache, loud music, and underaged girls are probably all excuses to the ultimate underlying truth in the whole matter: I'm just fuckin anti-social. I can admit that. To some degree I am.
Maybe I'm just done new years though. Did it so many times before. I've woken with hangovers, remembered hugging toilets, did all the drinking games, counted all the countdowns, and screamed HAPPY NEW YEAR many times already. Maybe this year, New Years was just another day.
And this is the beginning of just another year.
posted by Allen M @ 1/03/2006 06:22:00 AM
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