grand moof tarkin (moof) wrote,
grand moof tarkin

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this is a call.

I went down to Santa Cruz for a rave/techno party called Dirty Hippie. Driving down there was more exciting than I had anticipated or wanted; my li'l Honda Civic will skid around if you look at it funny, and there's a whole lot of twists and turns on Highway 17. It looked like everything around would have been lush and green if I had been able to see any of it.

The event itself was in the Santa Cruz Yoga Center in its two main rooms with nice hardwood floors you could skid around on or spin on your butt. I got there around 11, while people were still showing up. Unfortunately, things never quite gelled; while there were sudden bursts of people, there wasn't really much of a cohesive vibe going on. This is partially because all the smokers stood outside and talked, there was only one room with cushions to sit on, and the other room played variations on Miami Booty House or godawful IndustriTrance (industrial distorted vocals once in a while going "shiiiiiiit! fuuuuuuck! saaaataaaaaaaaan!" over uninspired oontzbeats).

What really killed it for me was that there really weren't all that many interesting people there. There was Ann who helped set up earlier and then lay asleep intertwined with the tentacles of a giant stuffed octopus, Alex the bald sneering Hollywood Satan, a content-looking guy who could have been a young Elvis Costello had he shorn his dreads and goatee and doffed some hornrims, a sad-faced woman who could have been a female Gilligan in her fishing hat, and one or two tallish aristocratic-looking girls with high cheekbones and dark hair.... but mostly, the crowd was just sort of young and dull. The blonde jailbait candyraver with the blank look on her face was good for a chuckle, but... the aggregate just didn't do much for me.

The night wasn't a total wash, though; I got to see what the effects of Ritalin were on me when I was in a neutral frame of mind. A dear friend of mine gave me some of her prescription a few years ago; I've still been unable to find any doctors willing to believe that a nearly 30 year-old male would have ADD, but that's another story. I got real tired for a while, and nearly fell asleep, but later just felt really... calm. I was able to just sit and slowly think about things rather than roll over things at a frenetic pace. I'm slightly more outgoing, too; I suspect that it acts as enough of a brake on my hair-trigger emotional rapport to not instantly recoil on a negative sign.

And now I'm pleasantly sleepy; perhaps I'll be able to fall into an unforced slumber, rather than sleeping because I'm unable to keep my eyes open any longer.


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