Let Freedom Swing

I hate to sound like a self-congratulatory asshole, but I stuck to my guns tonight. My house had a big party tonight and I was detailed on security. By the end of the night I have to turn out a group of 3 fratty giant and their lady friend. They keep insisting that they're on their way out or have a host, but they keep lingering and making up names of people they know.

I kept hounding them about if they had a host, and if so, could they procure that person? Well, these two guys, about as fratty as Natty and wide as a pine tree kept lingering after every time that I ask that they leave. Eventually they link up with their 3rd fratty friend. They linger together, looking over their shoulders to see if I'm still watching them. I ask that they leave. They drift around and collect their lady friend. I ask that they leave. Their lady friend claims to know someone. I ask if they have a host. Lady friend offers to find her host and disappears into the crowd. The three fratty giants stay with me by the door. They keep shit-talking ("this party's lame anyway") but I just watch their reflections in the glass, unmoving. Lady friend returns.

"We didn't want to stay anyway," Lady Friend says is a huff, filled with as much indignation as a 5-year old deprived of his birthright to lollipops.

I shake hands with each of the fratty guys. They are each a head taller than me.

"I don't like you, William Wallace," the third one says.

It is a 90s-themed party. I am dressed as Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Half my face is painted blue and I am wearing nothing but a kilt. I hold a plastic sword in my hand. My face is impassive and simply stares at them as they leave.

Sketchy-ass mofos stay outta my house!

Day One

(Interior, afternoon, a windowless high school classroom)
Me: What day is today?
Mister Shimmon: Today's the first day of the rest of your life!

So yesterday I turned twenty. Not quite a monumental occasion in our culture, but it's still a nice, round number. Aesthetics aside, I spent the day quietly, picnicking with the family (my parents, my sisters, and their longterm boyfriends) out at the Berkeley Marina. These are my sisters:

From doctorpon

Hats! Yes, hats are all the rage! If my sisters look a little bit dour, it's because one of them is eating a chocolate (or a chocolate-covered coconut macadamia nut) and the other has something in her teeth. So they tell me. Can you correctly identify which sister belongs to which excuse? For the sake of anonymity, let's refer to them as Sister 2 and Sister 1, going from left to right.

Anyway, it's been some time since I've had "family time," and I'd forgotten how many worlds apart it is from all other social interaction I've gotten used to. I can't believe that that's the social universe I used to live in; it definitely reminds me of all the reasons why I was no good at navigating that social landscape, which as I recall, quite strikingly resembled the surface of Mars.

Sister 2: Happy birthday David!
Longterm boyfriend 2: Happy birthday!
(I extend my hand towards LTBF 2, Sister 2 accepts it, shaking my hand)
LTBF 2: I think that one was for me.
Sister 2: Oh.
(Sister 2 and I quickly hug)

...later...

Mom: I brought bottles of San Francisco tap water for everyone! Here Sister 1, you can use this one. (Mom indicates a Nalgene bottle with a Hello Kitty! sticker on it)
Sister 1: Oh, I brought my own bottle of water. (Sister 1 indicates her aluminum Sigg water bottle)
Mom: Well then LTBF 1 can have this bottle then.
Sister 1: We can share my bottle of water.
Mom: No, no, he can have his own bottle of water, you don't have to share.
Sister 1: No, we can just share.
Mom: Are you sure?
Sister 1: Yes.
Me: I think she's trying to say that she would prefer that they share her bottle of water.
Mom: Okay then.

...later still...

Sister 2: So did I tell you that LTBF 2 and I almost died during our vacation in Oahu?
Mom: Oh my God... (look of unmitigated horror)
Sister 2: We were using the Inside Guide to Oahu and it had this hike "for locals only."
Me: (snicker)
Sister 2: Anyway, for the first part, we basically had to hack through the jungle
Mom: oh my God...
LTBF 2: A machete would have been useful.
Mom: oh my God...
Sister 2: There was 2,500 feet of climb in the first two miles
Me: (snicker)
Mom: oh my God...
Sister 2: Anyway, we get to this jackknife ridge, since the guidebook says to follow the ridge...
Mom: oh my God...
Sister 2: And there's this drop-off on either side of probably a thousand feet
Mom: Oh my God!
Me: Sweet.
Sister 2: You probably would have enjoyed it though, we were right in the clouds. I guess that guidebook had a disclaimer for a reason.

Every family looks bizarre from the outside. They all operate on their own internal logic. Too bad I still have absolutely no clue what the hell is going on.

Post-script: By popular demand, here is a digitally-enhanced photograph of beets. If you haven't had the pleasure of eating beets, they make everything turn red. Everything.

From doctorpon

Day 72

Every so often, I eat grapefruit, maybe just a bite or two, so I can remind myself that I do not like the taste. The rest of the time, when the memory of bitterness is not fresh in my mind, I think only of the consummate pleasure with which so many other people eat their grapefruit, and I am again intrigued.

I suppose that the same principal applies to glow-paint dance parties.

After about ten minutes of an awkwardness I thought I had left behind in high school, I knew I had to leave. I ended up spending three hours talking and catching up with a long-neglected friend. Somehow, that conversational marathon really turned my mood around for the better. I think my preferred form of social interaction involves an interesting human being and a candid space. All through my life, this has been the pattern. Over bowls of pho, on long schoolbus rides home, on mountaintops under a starry skies, in deserts under full moons, through computer screens, on hills looking over the City skyline, and in bedrooms I've gotten the chance to talk, honestly and earnestly.

On these occasions, the talk is so satisfying that afterwards, for a little bit, everything else feels completely insubstantial in comparison. These were some of the best moments.

Day 30

• It's not dumpster diving if it's your own trash, food items included.
• It's not breaking the speed limit (or any other traffic law) if you're riding a bicycle.
• Of my eight co-workers, I'd say two qualify as stranded-on-a-desert-island material, on the basis of survival and conversational skills.
• I'm not Filipino, though it might be fun to pretend to be.
• The self-aware haunted house is kitsch performance art in its highest form.
• Never try to capture a heathen's likeness inside the confines of your devil box; no good can come of any such thing.
• The 50% Off shelf at Safeway is a friend to be trusted.