just returned from a nice stroll with katie. set out to buy boots after class and ended up wandering for a couple hours.
yesterday i was particularly antsy, perhaps because of the antisociality of the night before. i chatted with random folks (one popped an invitation to another bar but i wanted another path to redemption), watched cabaret in honor of rebecca, blair, and other various deserving people having roles, and went home to study a bit before joining the crowd in the 6D kitchen to celebrate eric’s 24th bday. unaccustomed to both beer and large swells of affectionate people, eric was on cloud nine. i sat at a table with a pleasantly tipsy cuong and two danish guys, one of whom doodled cartoons on newspaper while he talked and the other, tall lanky alex, with cheeks like a battlefield and frighteningly blue eyes, who was drinking orange soda as a break.
coincidentally his major here is american studies which means both north and south. his professor, he reported, told them that for people in the states having pride in having no culture is culture substitute. i refuted that and he asked for examples of real american culture. poetry, i said. do you read american lit? he furrowed his brow for a moment: ‘edgar allen poe?’
we continued the discussion downstairs by the pooltables while we prepped to go to christiania for jazz, establishing that his major suited him to take over a small centralamerican country. cuong, feeling protective, warned me as we went to get coats of alex’s predatorial reputation. although the prospect of a one-night stand with the future dictator of nicaragua was superficially tempting, i laughed and assured him i’d be okay.
alex, eric, cuong and i set off in the rain to the hippie haven, about a ten minute walk from our door. the venue was packed with smoke and twentysomethings, both equally funky. the first band was a lackluster rock group whose sax player couldn’t hold a candle to sam dingman. the second was a woman wearing two slips and knee-high boots singing along valiantly to french opera. when she finished her aria, the spotlight shifted to the third band, this one authentically jazzy. people started dancing. alex offered to take my coat (cuong hovered) i refused nicely, and he hung back with his arms crossed. one birthday dance with eric — i danced! i wasn’t drunk! we laughed and stumbled through — and i left with cuong. talked differences between ethnic here and at home. returned around 2:30, after sapna was in bed for a change.