broken strands
I suppose I should make the effort to have conversations with people I don't know who I used to somewhat know, but it feels false so I don't.
One person who was actually interesting out of a crowd of unknown drunken people. Not bad, really. I needed to be home though, to have tea and plan for the next battle. I should make a few more reeds too, but it's rather early to be disturbing the housemates.
Odd to see Mike again, if only in passing.
I'd forgotten about brass players. One of these days I'm going to actually give in and start hanging out with them, until then I must be strong and disdainful. er. or something. And percussionists. They seem to talk to me occassionally. This is odd. Mind you, I'm leaving, and this happens when I leave places.
I have such trouble with the assumption that you will put up with and talk to people who you aren't particularily interested in, or who you dislike simply to ease social pressure. At the same time I'm probably being needlessly dismissive of good people...uh, or something. People that I don't talk to think I'm nice and people who know me know better, so if I have to deal with these people it's sometimes better if I don't really talk to them. yes. Of course, there's the problem that the good ones tend to be ensconsed in the others. I'm such a horrible person. oh well. I still like being me.
goddamn I need to colapse for a while.
