Saturday, May 10
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Two kinds of party [journal]
I went to two kinds of party recently. Well, one wasn't really a party. The first was to a fashion artsy party and the second was a highschool reunion sort of party.
The fashion one was at one stop west of Spadina station, rightside that row of about a million coffee shops. My sister worked with this one girl who had paintings being shown at the party so she and her coworkers were invited. Anyways, you could tell where we had to go like a mile away because there was a line spilling out of the place with all sorts of eccentric people milling around. There was a guy sporting the nerd look, a whole bunch of dirty long haired alternative rocker people, classy Ginas and urban-wear techno snobs. Once we got in there was nothing special. Dark lighting, two large glass empty showcases (I'll get to this later on) a bar and lots of seating. Her friends were close by already sitting and socializing. I decided that if I was going to enjoy myself I needed a drink so I got myself a gin and tonic.
Not so long after that models went into the glass cases and were doing poses, dumb cheese poses, only because they were good looking they actually got away with it. One girl did sexy temptress poses and the other one did pissed off model poses. The pissed off model girl reminded me a lot of this girl I worked with before at bar who was also a model. Now that girl was wacky. Always telling lies about seeing ghosts and whatnot. Anyways, Fashion Television was there filming them and interviewing people like my sister's friend and the designer of the clothes the models were wearing. She looked a lot like a porn star, but maybe that was the look she was going for. I guess the porn star look is in.
There's not a lot to say except there were a lot of phonies around passing out business cards and compliments. I suppose after a lot of drinks they started to get less phony though and maybe that's why the place thinned out so fast, being unphony scared them to leave. Karen's co-workers were nice though. There's one guy with my name but is called Joey instead. He's one of those guys who's always mellow and pumps out witty comments one after another. His girlfriend is this loquacious number who's just as funny as him but in a different way. My sister and I kept saying they are the cutest couple alive. They both independantly came over to shoot the breeze with me when I looked bored as hell. It was nice. There was this other worker of hers that had tattoos on her elbow and shoulders, I thought she was really cute and wanted to talk to her once that night at least. I did too and she didn't seem very much like a conversationalist at first but then at my second comment she joined in and it got better. Later that night it would have been pointless talking to her because she got drunk, the drunk where you slobber pizza chunks while eating pizza. Finally, I met this other girl who was a wild child, dancing and stripping. They took a picture of her taking off her pants and showing her undies. We talked about what song it would take for her to really dance (Micheal Jackson) and what Indian places are good to eat downtown. She gave me a card of place she thought was amazing and I told her that I would check it out and drop by to tell her about it. I don't know why I do that, because I'm the type of guy who now feels bound to do so. She gave me her business card, which she made from a hamburger helper box, in response to me saying I would tell her about what I thought of the place.
Well, this has been an extremely long post so I'll just say the other party was boring and we ate a hick restaurant called moose something or another and the manager was all friendly with me writing on a business card that I could get 15% off whenever I eat there.
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