billingsley! party at taylor's house!


we got to the party, and it wasn't like how i imagined at all. i am always imagining parties where the lights are turned low, or else completely off, and there is smoke and alcohol everywhere. the parties in my head have loud music, so loud that the bass shakes the whole street. there are girls in tanktops and short-shorts dancing and they've got glow-in-the-dark earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. and of course, there are douchebags with button-down shirts and rolled up sleeves. the people are mostly white, but the cooler parties i imagine have a few minorities in them. real parties make an attempt at diversity.

like i said, friday night was nothing like that. later, i told my friends how upset i was that i didn't ever get to go to real parties in high school or even college. since i went to an all-boys school, all our "parties" were total sausage-fests where my idiot friends would try to outdrink each other. they would smoke weed and listen to the grouch. i didn't mind that, but i would've liked better. i would've liked to put on dude ranch and be surrounded by hot girls who tried to outdrink each other. why didn't i get in on any of that? all sausage, no tang.

so, friday night, i convinced my friends to go to this thing at ross' hippie co-op house. i think ross is a decent guy, so i am not trying to badmouth his little shindig. i guess i just want to see some crazy shit at some point in my life. anyway, at ross', i was the only asian guy. my friend emily was the only girl wearing make-up, and she sensed that this other girl who wasn't wearing make-up but who played the violin was giving her dirty looks all night. i could see that. the violinist didn't say anything to any of us, and we didn't say anything right back. the violinist played some traditional irish folk songs with a guitarist, a bass player (the guy used a stick with a string and a tub turned upside-down), and a banjo player. "how the fuck do these people know these old ass irish folk songs?" i asked. emily shrugged.

the music was cool. the three of us sat on the couch and watched them play music. at one point, i said, "you mind if jam along, too?" the guys said alright, and they handed me a blue guitar, which belonged to ross' sister. i tried to play some song - i don't know what the fuck it was - and i was able to keep up by playing d minor the whole time. after that song ended, i started playing the opening riff to neil young's "unknown legend." "what is that?" the banjo player asked. he had glasses and blonde, stringy hair made into a ponytail. "it's neil young," i said. "oh yeah! do you know the words?" i said i did, and i started singing. at that point, i only had one bottle of guinness.

"do you know any other songs?" the banjo player asked me. "yeah," i said, "do you know erasure's 'a little respect?'" "e-rase-sure?" the banjo player asked. "yeah, erasure," i said. "an eighties band?" he shook his head. i started playing "a little respect." he played along on banjo. who were these hippies that knew traditional irish folks songs but didn't know eighties power hits? granted, i just learned about "a little respect" last year, but i don't know the melody to "finnegan's wake." that logic doesn't make any sense, but since you read this blog, i'll assume you already know what i'm talking about.

so, where's this crazy party with the glow-in-the-dark jewelry and the lil' jon blasting out the bose speakers? i wanna get invited to that shit.

1 comment:

Naomi said...

go hang out at some UW frats on a weekend......
it's not quite as cool as it sounds, or as cool as it always looks in the movies....
I've been to frat parties and house parties. Maybe it was my lack of glow in the dark jewelry, or maybe my shorts weren't short enough...