I don't get parties. Sure, having friends over and chilling together makes sense, and having a semi-legitimate reason to do so like a birthday or anniversary or Paris Hilton going to jail, but both the accentuated 'call-over-lots-of-people-who-you-might-know-and-some-real-friends-and-proceed-to-restrain-yourself-politically' take on them and the 'my-parents-are-gone-lets-get-ourselves-fucked-up' version seem pointless. The way I see it, if one wanted to get fucked up, they could do it on their own. (Not that I personally would; I think that that much self-indulgence without anyone else to give at least the image of possible restraint won't lead anywhere beneficial. I also think that lying to yourself is just as damaging, but that's a topic for another post.) Or, if you want to meet other people who you might have a connection to, go to a bar or a club or a whatever, or just hang around wherever they are. Contact with people, when you're seriously looking for it, seems to be of a much better quality when it isn't limited by scripts or society.

In related news, I spent most of today at a more-or-less pointless birthday party. Granted, I wasn't going to do anything truly productive or enjoyable in its place, the variegated buffet was a perk, and my brothers, being surrounded by their friends, didn't require watching, but all the same I feel I lost an afternoon. Like I said, I wasn't doing anything with it, but I like at least having it. Sort of like how I have a footbag and a pitch pipe and dozens of functions on my knife and a manual to my computer. These are things which I don't really need, and though I can entertain myself envisioning their use in remarkably specific circumstances, they aren't justified. The sort of things that manage to get put aside when you clean up.

In an overly-sentimental-in-terms-of-my-intentions-in-this-post vein, are days like this what old people look back on and regret?


All other realities aside I didn't mind the party. It was worth celebrating the occasion and I feel it should have been done, and I can't suggest a better manner for the people it truly concerned. My point is that it really didn't do anything for me, and I felt my views on that are worth explaining. I find meaning in other pointless occurrences (usually others'), but not, it seems, those which society deems worth advertising. It could be that I'm just getting the wrong message from the rest of the world, sure, but I doubt it. Hammer me today.

There wasn't any wind/
no noise, no nothing just a body jerked skyward, limbs flailing like an unloved marionette/
at impossible speed, receding away like a far away dot/
I can see her still, scream for help but no one answered/
She turned end on end like a long lost astronaut, I felt the summer air reclaim me/
the chirp of a bird, the whisper of leaves/
And I was frozen; to the face of the earth/

I should cover whether or not I'm an actor. I'll do that some other time; perhaps when the thought of tequila doesn't nauseate me anymore.

I should also mention the day which may live in infamy: Tall Thin Dude might be found, I might learn to draw, and the Bush-hating, pedantic, overblown comments of one name-changing
artist could be replaced with the postmodernist-hating, obscure, subtle-to-the-point-of-questionable-inclusion comments of one name-thieving non-artist. Take a look.

I think it's pretty tempting- characters with backgrounds and reasonable amunts of delineation in terms of beliefs, pre-made story arcs, and one large and apparently-still-in-progress issue being dealt with. I think the guy's giving it away, and I'd hate to see it get lost in the tubes with other good comics. Mac Hall comes to mind, but that's in a different league of awesomeness.