Picking vinyl

Thumbnail: Banister kitty
Thumbnail: CD rack
Thumbnail: Playing Wii
Thumbnail: Tree piece
Thumbnail: Stealing kitty
 

A cam­era to mask my shy­ness, a lens to hide behind.

At Audra and Jesse’s I felt like I was back in uni­ver­sity. Meeting peo­ple, learn­ing names, throw­ing in for some pizza. Except this time, I wasn’t being dragged, kick­ing and scream­ing to the party. Maybe I was just feel­ing social, because I hadn’t seen my own friends in so long.

I learned that play­ing Punch Out on the Wii is as nat­ural to you as it was back when you were in your room back in ele­men­tary school, cry­ing because you were no one’s best friend. That watch­ing Air Guitar Nation — when it’s hard to tell how seri­ously the con­tes­tants take them­selves — is much more enjoy­able with sar­cas­tic com­ments applied lib­er­ally from the audience.

I want to know these people.

I want to find out what dri­ves them. I want to know why they cre­ate, why they’ve cho­sen their medi­ums. Why they hang out together. Why they stud­ied what they stud­ied. Why they have the jobs they do.

They’re well-read, edu­cated, opin­ion­ated, cos­mopoli­tan. I felt some­what out of place. Topics of con­ver­sa­tion weren’t even close to my inter­ests. Concerts aren’t my scene. Politics con­fuse me. Things are hap­pen­ing to other friends I’ve never met. But when there’s this much to learn, lis­ten­ing is just as good as tak­ing part.

It was past mid­night by the time I got home, but I had hard time falling asleep. My brain was buzzing, try­ing to take in every­thing I had just experienced.