I went to the Downtown Mall on a search for yet more hardware with which to build decorative space ships in the front yard. I found a large galvanized steel box near the back of the Brasa restaurant, not far from big drums of cooking grease. If I ever find myself starving...
I was my usual cranky artistic self as I worked, snarling at Monster Boy when he had a suggestion. I have a congenital hatred of people commenting on my work. I think this is genetic, because my mother and grandfather [that link is interesting] are/were the same way. I distinctly remember sitting in 4th grade math class and thinking, as I wrote the date, that the most horrible thing I could imagine was some gushy teacher suddenly arriving unseen behind me and commenting over my shoulder about the significance of the date.
The Amy who works at the Tokyo Rose came by as I worked and asked if Monster Boy and I wanted to go with her to a UVA dining hall for free dinner. She had two guest meals in her dining hall "account" that she could either use or lose. She knows Monster Boy is strapped for cash these days, so she figured he'd be into it. And with my Taurus Rising affliction, well...
At the dining hall, I was reminded of high school because I didn't really know where to sit and found myself subconsciously looking for the "cool table."
I ate lots of meat and starch and drank some grapefruit juice. We talked about Monster boy's splatter films.
The food service lady said we could take as much of the food as we wanted and gave us bags to do so. We stocked up on turkey sandwiches and oranges. When it rains it poors: Monster Boy started getting food stamps today as well. His first purchase was junk food chips, dips and pretzels for tonight's party.
I strung a set of chase lights on both space ships. They were looking pretty good at this point, but I decided to take it one step further. I incorporated two radios in it and tuned them to no particular AM frequency. That way they clicked with the blinking lights and hummed ominously, occasionally tweedling as an oscillation passed through.
Cleaning my room and opening the double doors to Andrew's room was the next massive undertaking. I hid most of my loot but left a few things out as a gesture of god will: most of my CDs and my CD player, for example. I also set up two computers to do screen savers. Meanwhile Ches stapled plastic to the walls up and down the halls and in Andrew's room.
I made a little bra out of two speakers as part of my "space outfit." Much later I had Theresa Venesian help me put it on.
I drove us to the Barracks Road Nation's Bank (where we all have accounts) and John loaded up on cash. Then it was over to Farmer Jack's to get the kegs. I would have picked up three kegs of Rolling Rock, but they only had one keg of that left, so I also got two kegs of Budweiser. Meanwhile John and Elizabeth fetched ice and snacks.
The guy who rolled the kegs out to my car was impressed with the fact that I could pack two kegs in my trunk (well, almost; I had to tie the hatch down) and that I could load them all by myself.
The heavily-loaded Dart sat at a noticeably different angle. It braking behaviour was also completely unfamiliar. At the Dynashack, Franz of Abundance House helped us unload.
An eerie calm descended over the Dynashack. Franz was the only non-resident there, and none of the kegs were tapped. I sat in my room and felt satisfied with all the things I'd done today.
It was clear that Theresa was already trashed. She was having trouble walking in a straight line, and for support she kept casting her arms out, most gothlike, to catch support. Often as not I was such a support. When she grabs human flesh, she uses her talons to assert her sadistic affection. I had her help me put on my speaker-bra, and she was so violent and unsubtle as she worked that it came apart once and had to be fixed. On a couple occasions later in the evening, after many others had arrived, she flew at me and grabbed me roughly, seemingly as an assertion of undying friendship. All such times she spilled my beer, sending me again to the back porch's keg line, which advanced glacially.
Yes, many others came to the party. Just about everyone I've mentioned of late was there. The band, however, never turned up. So the speakers in several residents' rooms were wired together in a house-wide network. The music was danceable techno mostly. Some people could be overheard calling the party a "rave."
Quite a few people had glowing raver toys, and one guy, Mike, the boyfriend of Liz the tanned and bleached alterna-chick, had been sprayed with the glowing contents of one. Housemate John's hair seemed to glow, but in fact it was filled with bright yellow household latex paint.
The Amy who works at the Tokyo Rose was around when I was running my videocamera. She seemed to be enjoying herself; she stayed a long time. The videotape I made was not particularly interesting, but I figured I could pillage it for still frames to illustrate this day. I thought I'd caught a wonderful drama of Persad storming into the kitchen to express his disgust with Theresa's drunkeness, but it didn't turn out. Amy had to deal with all of the weirdness that characterizes my social scene wrapped up into the one big taco known as Space Party II. At one point, Theresa grabbed Amy, spilling beer everywhere. Theresa was only trying to be friendly; she was trying to praise Amy's beauty. When she's drunk, Theresa becomes especially unsatisfied with her heterosexual life.
Matthew Hart (sans Leah?) came in from Waynesboro. He figured out how to get to the front of the beer line by coming up the porch steps from below.
The keg of Killian Red that friends-of-the-house Jesse and Natalie had brought yesterday was tapped upstairs in John's room. It served the role of what is known in Fraternity House parties as "the brother keg," that is, the special keg of good beer reserved for the residents and their good friends. I didn't discover this until late, however. I spent most of the party downstairs.
Joanna, the little-known Malvern Girl, was unexpectedly friendly to me. But she'd been drinking tequila earlier today, you see.
I hadn't known this, but I learned later that boyfriend Aaron had been talking for hours with none other than Jenfariello in the Dynashack kitchen, kissing her on the neck and telling her he loved her, Jen. Whoa. So, as you can see, Angela is not the only naughty person in this other tumultuous Venesian relationship.
Somehow I ended up sleeping alone.
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