Living in a dream

The night started with a trip to Wendy's. Wendy's is pretty sweet, except that it should require a dress code for customers. If you are so fat that fat rolls are hanging off of your fat body, you are required to cover them with clothes. Please.

After that, Tom and I went to my step mom's art gallery opening, which was pretty sweet. It was full of a bunch of really crappy art (it was a group show), interspersed with a few pieces of quite good art. Tom asked what the abstract symbols in my step mom's paintings mean, but I couldn't tell him. I mean, what the fuck is the symbolic meaning of an orange?

We go over to Tom's and lounge around. A serious advantage of Tom's house is that he has a lot of soft furniture, something that my apartment definitely lacks. A disadvantage? Mosquitoes.

After hanging out at Tom's for an hour or two, our group (Tom, Phil, Pat, Charlie, and me) decides to head over to a much larger party. I am always amazed how segregated large parties are from strangers. Basically everyone there was from Central (my high school); either still attending or an alum. It was definitely slightly eerie to be at a party with high school girls. Pat and Charlie quickly tire of the party and say that they want to go pick up chicks. While this would normally be a really appealing endeavor, I simply want to chill. In the meanwhile, Tom and Phil simply disappear from the party.

Pat and Charlie abandon us, leaving the party. I call Phil and it turns out that he, Tom, and some other dude had gone over to play on the playground. Gay as that may sound, I'm sure that they had their reasons. We go back to the party to find Pat and Charlie, which didn't work out too well since they had already left. We follow their example and go back to Tom's house.

TV watching time. Tom doesn't have cable but we still manage to find a worthwhile program to watch - Elimidate. I find it amusing that people make fools of themselves on national TV. Tom leaves at around two, claiming that he is really tired, while Phil and I stay and keep watching.

The next thing I know, the TV is off and it's morning. Phil is nowhere to be seen. The sun is, for lack of a better set of words, really fucking bright. I drive home.