I was going to go to the underground tour, but adam reminded me that there was some sort of game night going on at Ed Latimer's place. I was like, okay, fuck that other shit, sitting in one place sounds better than walking around a lot. So I rode along over to ed's place.
Got there, chatted with sabrina and her sister, and roger and ashley, and some art major named linda. Heard from ashley that the latter three were ditching the gaming thing to go to some CD release party. I looked around, and saw just super smash brothers (which vexes me to no end) and some other xbox game being played, and I was like, okay, fuck that other shit, indie rock sounds more fun than video games. So I tagged along with these people I hardly know.
Roger futzed around the south side a while trying to find parking, eventually did. Walked for a while, and got to the party, and I had this roaring rush of social-anxietyness. Somehow just the vibe of the people standing around the outside smelling of alcohol and tobacco and being crowded even in the open space got me feeling really... I don't know what word to put on it, which is bad, because I certainly feel this way often enough, but... some sort of intense dissonance. So I was like fuck that other shit, I'm going to wander around south side for a bit, see if Eljay's books is still open, come back a bit later and get a ride back whenever they're done doing their thing.
It turned out to be kind of pleasant, actually, to walk up and down East Carson, seeing all the random kids dressed up for friday night parties and what-not and feeling a sense of quasi-meditative detachment from them. Unfortunately, Eljay's just closed like 10 minutes before I got to it, and I totally couldn't find my way back to the party. So I was like, fuck that other shit, I'll just catch a bus home.
Sat at the 54C stop, asked a woman who came to stand there if she knew if the bus was coming soon. She said yeah, and we chatted a bit besides about how the students in pgh can be kind of slow to actually bother learning about anything outside the neighborhood of their school. (Apparently she expected me to know the 54C schedule by heart? dunno...) She was a bit but not terribly older than me; maybe late 20s or early 30s, couldn't tell. I find myself noticing faces of older women that are indirectly attractive; that is, I'm totally not attracted to them in the present tense, but I wish I know what to look for among my age cohort to have a friend, a love, a wife that would look like that when she's older. I think seeking out h0t ch1x0rz in the present is actually ineffective. I see plenty of over-made-up scary women in their 40s and 50s that surely were attractive at one point, but didn't ever decide that it was time to stop trying to be that kind of attractive.
On the other hand, there are the faces that have obviously had a half-lifetime of earnest smiles and laughs walk over them, youthful without needing to look young, with plain glasses and plain hair, and a quiet, restful contentment in every corner and wrinkle. I want to be old some day, smiling back at one of those...
In any event, got back to campus, fingered roger for his cell number, tried calling but got his voice mail, emailed an quick apology, and wandered over to mudge to see if the piano was free.
It wasn't, but the guy playing was cool and we jammed a bit and traded musical ideas. I will have to play with this Dm-Bb-F-A7 progression some more. He also said he knows this other girl who plays cello, and I left him my email address, so perhaps I will have even more cello action in my life besides Cat. Or is it Kat? I don't know. Not Cat-of-John, anyway.
Now I'm back home, and it's empty and late. I should sleep.