"That which is overdesigned, too highly specific, anticipates outcome; the anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of grace."
-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Hopefully the birth of a new tradition.

Yesterday Adam and Sophy hosted a potluck at their apartment. About a dozen people showed up, stellar humans all, and a good time was had, with much feasting, drinking, and conversation.

I showed up a couple hours early, procured salad fixings, and made a Big Salad which I was not happy with, but eh, whaddaygonnado.

Sophy cooked a turkey, which was totally awesome, and Eric Cronin made some of the best chili I've had in years.

Saw Bryce and Steph for the first time in more than half a year, I think. Steph, as always, way more fashionable than the rest of us slobs. I unfortunately didn't try any of Bryce's curry, as by that point I was totally full and busy rolling around on the floor in my excess.

I thought Adam was joking about this, but my bottom lip actually did get stained by wine. I looked like a fucking Mentat. Awesome.

Gallo didn't smoke enough of my cigarettes and Russel was as understated yet cool as usual. I yelled at him to take off his damn tie, but he refused. Gallo: "Don't worry, I'll take it off him later."

Liz, Matt and I walked back to our part of town around 0200, I think, just in time for all the drunk people to be getting out of bars and amuse us.

Heard while walking down Pine, near 5th St, presumably some drunken frat guy: "Hey! Look at my penis!"

A truly excellent night.

And shortly, I think I will head back over and help them clear out some of those leftovers. :)

December 19, 2004 4:38 PM