2002-04-21 :: 8:10 p.m.

it's amazing what you can do during a bender

Soundtrack: none

Originally in an email to Kim[berly], then put here and completed when my ssh client disconnected:

This was our infamous Spring Weekend. In no real order: I drank a lot (but was never really that drunk); saw The Roots play a great show; got Questlove to sign my ticket just before the bus took off; shook Dar Williams' hand and told her I appreciated her set (I did not see or hear a word of it); invited a ton of people to my reading of "This Boy" this Friday (most of whom I cannot remember now); was told by a girl who I thought liked me (and who I kind of liked) that she likes a freshman from Vermont and was suicidal and thinking of killing herself regularly (what do you say to that when you aren't great friends and she starts apologizing for burdening you after nearly yelling this in the cafe where you are eating... shades of Dave Eggers' reaction to John in AHWOSG mixed with "Yes, but when can we make out?" drunk-thoughts and self-conscious guilt); went back and forth to a ton of different house parties; watched a friend steal a parking meter by literally twisting and pulling it out of the ground (during his efforts to uproot the meter, his friends broke into the Greenhouse), then ran with him while he carried it back to his apartment, where I used my sweatshirt cuffs to cover my hands while placing it behind his kegerator to prevent my fingerprints from being left behind; saw two people sneak behind a shed to screw during a barbeque and heard them gasping while I talked to Jeb (then watched the guy emerge to retrieve her handbag, after which they emerged hand-in-hand, mildly embarrassed); ate my favorite stuffed pizza; left half a keg of Killian's in the foyer of our apartment building with a "help yourself" note on it; watched a screening of the show I worked on earlier in the semester in the old film studies building along with some of the cast, crew, a group of extra-sparkly rich/royal girls, and the aforementioned unfinished keg; supplied my sister and eight of her friends with drinks since they have very few 21+ connections and we'd just had a cast party last weekend (lots of Karkov left over).

A longer story: Before the aforementioned show screening, I watched a short film of the director's first digital editing project, which featured a handsome guy getting stoned with various devices and having the footage sped-up/slowed-down MTV-style, so that he might setup and spark the bong extremely quickly, but inhale extremely slowly, etc. Then he would begin philosophizing about random bullshit, how he understood the West Coast but not the East, a Turkish girl he was in love with, and so on. He looked very familiar, so after the screening I asked Jerome who he was, and he said "J, Erik J," and I said, "No way! I know J!" Jerome could not believe it, but it was true. Erik is the best friend of the ex-boyfriend of my best friend from Australia. I hung out with him a fair bit during my brief stay in LA upon my return to the States. I called Robyn, drunk, and we screamed with delight at the smallworldism.

Not bad for a Friday and a Saturday.