4:30 AM Still Saturday, because awake I am still. What a most fun and great night with friends. With Carl, Jake, and Jennifer. They picked me up in Jennifer's car and we went to George Ding's party. Stropping at CSU Boyle Tower first so Jake could sign in in time. Otherwise no spooning with his sweetie. Carl and I waited in the lobby and tried to decide if the 1930s country club photos capturing Boyle tower's past were fake or not. "She's texting!" So, 3 friends, an Iraq war veteran asking for money, 4.50 to get his car out of this lot who sings reggae, a bottle of nasty Southern Comfort, a mason jar of toddy, and George's home-made Bailey's later, we are dancing our night balls off. Also a Trent Kinder band plays. Vibes are flying through the air like confetti leaves. Carl is killing it. I'm teaching Matt Waters dance moves. I'm falling in love with Carl. I'm in love with everybody! So many happy faces, and not a dry seat in the house. Everybody dancing and having a good time. But letting any preconceived notions fly out the window I did what I wanted to. What-the-hell, this Trent Kinder's group has a skinny guy in high -waisted wool slacks and an orange sweater with Hugh Grant hair and a mustache on guitar and vocals. A Third Man thing going on the label I mean. All night I'm dubbing him a "Flosten" kid. One of those oh-so-beautiful-Burberry-add-kids. Every move a photograph. It's a mean thing but so much of the tie they act like this/come off this way. You've met them once maybe, hosted one of their "guru girl" photo series in a Barfarama "art show" at your house, but they still won't acknowledge you. Sometimes my eyes wander with this kid. He doesn't seem to be with everybody else. Talking with a few friends, moving from corner to corner. Talking with George. Dancing just a little. He's out of a novel, and it's hard to tell if these people are jerks or if they're just socially awkward. He's sitting up on George's loft bed with his feet hanging over. WE're about to leave, I say, "Who cares?" to myself, "Why not?" You can't stop looking. So I climb. "Hi.. I liked your group." and the response was little lights in his eyes. A warm glow and a sweet soft-shy kind of voice. "I saw you out there, I liked your footwork." He shakes my hand "I'm William", "I'm Phillipa" Good-to-meet-yous. Before we leave I tell him to go to George's again when George & Sam start doing the soul parties. Maybe I should have been friendly sooner, but oh well. It just goes to show you never can tell with people unless you try. Say hi. Let them know you notice them. It's really something, not exchanging anything but names, with an urge to meet somewhere again time undecided in the future. I like that. Suspenseful, like a movie. He waved again when we were at the door. William the sweet guy sitting over there, and you know that now. You said Hello. I think he wanted George or Sam to play some Beatles.
11PM - Carl's house. Nell another night. In front of the wide screen again. Maddy talks about her 12 hour long dream last night. Some guru saying the Gods gave him a new color called "Trillium". Ann Turner was there, Maxwell's sister. She was in a "Rock" city. Jennifer thinks Maddy is a "Pheobe" in "Friends-World". I'm a "Monica". Courtney Cox. I listen to Carl, Liz Norris, Adam Goldman and Maddy speak in tongues about Psyche & Prog music and maybe I would know what they're talking about if Carl ever made me the tape he said he would ages ago. I the dark about such things I guess I don't are that much. I'm content safari-ing for new synth pop. There's no end. It's 11:11 make a wish! Cats can hear your fingers rubbing together loud, "It's called Kittie num nums, and cats love it." Trying to think of games, stuff to entertain ourselves. We can't be here too too late, Maddy watches Gem at 7am. Scattergories it is!
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