All right. I've been rather lax in reporting my recent spinster adventures. The latest news is that I have indeed sold my soul and signed a year-long lease for a new apartment. The exodus from the avocado house will take place on Sunday, August 21st. However, I will have the keys to the new place on Monday, the 15th. So, I plan to take a few loads over myself throughout the week. That will surely freak out my poor dog. Oh well, he's easily freaked.
Anyway, I had an interesting adventure last night. Chris is the other designer in the Theatre side of the English Department. His birthday was on the 10th. Chris looks like he's 35, and often acts like he's still in undergrad. He's 42. His wife, Adriel, is not much older than I am, though I'm sure she's not yet 30. She also can sometimes act like she's still in undergrad. They're perfect for each other. I like them both very much. Adriel, decided to surprise Chris with a birthday party on Friday. I was invited. I thought, why not? Because I'm a sucker, or a good person, I offered to help by picking up a cake (like hell was I going to cook anything--sorry, but the avocado oven sort of frightens me . . . well, that and the smoke alarm at the avocado house is somehow directly connected to the police and fire departments, so if it went off I'd have angry firemen banging down my door, and, as entertaining as that might be . . . . . )
Chris and Adriel just bought a house in Holyoke, which is not far from again. But, of course I get lost going there. Streets in MA are notorious for NOT being marked with anything like, oh . . . Say a blasted STREET SIGN. No, that would be too simple for us mere mortals. And, of course, the directions I got off of mapquest are useless, because there are no street signs. A twenty minute drive ended up taking nearly an hour. Finally, I ended up pulling a u-turn at the dead end of this steep, dark hill. It was the second time I'd made it up this hill. So, I figured I was probably close to my destination. I eased back down the street, squinting into the dark, looking for a house with a bunch of cars--since none of the houses had numbers (of course not, that would be too easy for us mere mortals). I found one, and in the front of the drive, buried behind a number of vehicles, was what I hoped to be Chris' PT Cruiser. I figured I'd just knock on the door. If it was the home of some complete stranger, they obviously had company, and I had a very yummy looking chocolate torte (it was cheaper than the cake). Who wouldn't let me in, right??
It ends up I had, by some miracle, actually found Chris' new house. Everyone was already there, drinking. Fabulous. I'm at a party where I know NO ONE, and they're already well on their way to getting smashed. Excellent. My mind quickly flickered to my Grandma's pleas not to end up in a drunken stupor on the floor of the avocado house. But I figured, since I wasn't at the avocado house, a glass of white wine wouldn't hurt. What the Grandma doesn't know won't hurt me, right?
So, after giving Chris a hug, handing over the chocolate torte, I accepted a glass of white wine from his wife, Adriel. I was introduced to their friends, two couples who couldn't be much older than me. I'm still not sure whether they are Chris' friends or Adriel's, or if they are mutual friends. It doesn't matter. Michael Filas, another professor from the English department had come too. Chris had the stereo blasting 80s hair band music. We were all standing around in their breakfast room, imbibing and making insipid conversation. I found myself wondering what had possessed me to come as they all regaled me of their joint adventures at The Taste of Westfield last August. The Taste of Westfield is this weekend event where the local restaurants (oh, about all two of them, I guess) set up booths in downtown Westfield. There's live music, and of course, lots of booze and lots of food.
Before going, evidently, one of their group had spent all of $15 on a GALLON of vodka, which the six of them split amongst themselves and carried around downtown Westfield in large styrofoam cups with lids and straws (so as to look like they're not drinking . . . right). Needless to say, they all got completely smashed. That, evidently was the point of the evening. I was told several times that throughout the night, at least one of their party had gone missing, and what was really funny was the band playing that night was called The Missing. Yes, very funny. Even funnier, one of the guys wandered off and got left behind, and called his girlfriend at 3am to come and get him. Yes, I have so much in common with these people. I'm invited to go with them this year. Joy.
I suppose it's good for me to get out and socialize. It reminds me of why I enjoy being alone. They weren't all that bad, of course. And I didn't have a bad evening. It's just that experiences like this seem to only drive home the fact that I'm too old to hang out with people my own age, and too young to hang out with people who are older. So where does that leave me? At home with a good book and a brownie sundae, I guess.
I did have a short, but interesting conversation with Michael Filas, however. He was at the Theatre Committee Meeting last Spring when I brought up the issue of that semester's show, Frankenstein, and what had transpired over the course of the semester. He told me he thought I'd handled the situation very well, which made me feel really good. And, he said he was really glad that I had brought it up and had asked to address the problems that had arisen throughout the production. This also made me feel really good. And, he's stopped calling me Elizabeth (which is what he's been calling me the last several times I've seen him in passing). So, I suppose that is also really good.
All in all, it was an interesting evening. I left just after 11pm. It's nice to have a dog at home as an excuse. Teddy sleeps whether I'm there or not. I don't really need to go walk him, but let's face it--it sounds so much nicer to tell someone I need to be getting home to take care of my dog, rather than saying, well, I've had enough of this lovely togetherness with you people who are all totally cocked, and I'm going home.
Well, that's it for latest adventures in spinstering. Tune in next week for another titillating episode in spinstering (and maybe they're be another new post, but I'm not making any promises).
