Friends in Great Places
It’s been a crazy week. And for once, I can’t even blame the weekend. A lot was happening, I tried to be wherever I could, and somewhere along the way the days started bleeding into each other.
Reconstructing all of it afterwards is always a bit of a challenge. You see, if I’m going to stay awake, keep moving and hit as many clubs, bars and men as physically possible, certain chemical assistance may be required. Unfortunately, some of the things that keep you going are remarkably bad at helping you remember where exactly you went. Which is why taking my camera out today turned into a small archaeological expedition.
Apparently, I went to two parties last week that I hadn’t even properly processed yet. Both came recommended by friends, which either says something lovely about my friends or something deeply concerning about how easily I can be persuaded to go somewhere.
The first was Thursday at The Square. Nola had invited me before, on an occasion when I couldn’t make it, so this time I finally went to have a look. I walked in during Pandora’s set and pretty much immediately knew I should have listened to Nola sooner.
The music was right. The place was right. The people were right. Very much my territory.
It was exactly what my early Thursday needed: somewhere to get into trouble gently before spending the next three days doing it with considerably more commitment. With FVMF looming over the weekend, I probably should have been home conserving energy. Obviously, I went clubbing instead.
Then Friday happened.
Amy tipped me off about the reopening of Scoutlounge, with a party rather appropriately called The Bitch Is Back. I appreciate an event willing to simply put that in writing instead of leaving people to mouth it at each other the moment I enter the room.
Scoutlounge was an entirely different creature from The Square. Colorful, glossy, shiny enough to check your makeup in practically every surface and, frankly, looking dangerously slippery. That last part mattered because I arrived during a break from FVMF and by then my coordination had already become more of an aspiration than a reliable bodily function.
Still, I survived Friday, which naturally meant I could make more bad decisions on Saturday.
This time Nikki was responsible. She was organizing things at Afterneath, giving me both a reason to go and someone to blame for stepping away from the festival grounds for a bit. Afterneath brought another change of scenery, another party and, judging by the contents of my camera, another stretch of the weekend I considered worth documenting.
So apparently that was all happening as well last week: Nola got me to The Square, Amy to Scoutlounge and Nikki to Afterneath. I’m starting to realize that having friends in great places is extremely useful when your own ability to remember where you’ve been is becoming increasingly unreliable and the only thing you can rely on are your pictures.
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
Join the awesomeness. Leave an epic reply.
