As the sunset dimmed and the traffic increased, the city became abuzz with weekend extravaganza. The beachfront office had been so alive, so awake with eagerness. Eagerness for what? For success, for means to a unique end goal. A gem surrounded by a beach full of rocks. Continuing away between the hills, The Hills played and it felt right. The pile of clothes in the back of the car - the elaborate number of wardrobe changes.
Arriving, the night chill set in. I walked in and was greeted by a few people. Definitely an older crowd. Almost instantly I was asked to help outside. I played the part - act intrigued, touched, asked questions - sitting by the pool on the edge of another hill. I like this area. The winding roads, the stillness so awake.
Inside - offered lots of food and drinks. I scanned the room, analyzing the different characters I saw. The guy with the camera loves what he does; I felt happy for him. The main guy was nice, I asked him a lot of questions. Always good to learn. I enjoyed watching one woman prep - she looked so fake up close but I knew it would look good on camera. She wore the weirdest shoes and a full-length leopard robe. Finally, we were situated. I fixed my hair and danced to the best music. Everyone was genuinely having a good time, despite the ingenuine atmosphere of it all. I danced with this one guy a lot. He was really good at dancing, probably because I'm pretty sure he was gay. I laughed out of enjoyment and out of the hilarious fakeness of it all. Someone had a horse mask on. One girl spilled her beer all over the floor and me in my roommate's shirt - the one I was told not to get anything on. Oops.
Paris was under attack. I heard about it on the radio on my way over. What commenced was a heated political conversation. I attempted to contribute a few times but knew it was pointless so I sat back and ate my pizza. Obama's foreign policy, ISIS, the presidential election - I listened as the hardcore liberal feminist (I mean you only cut your hair that short if you're a feminist, right? ;) and the young conservative war vet argued. The feminist took the vet's opinion way too personally. Steam was floating out of her head. Have your thoughts, but be considerate of other's opinions, yah? Or nah. Eventually, someone else joined the debate and she took the opportunity to escape. I continued the conversation with the war vet and I agreed with him on a few things, yet he was so pro-all-extreme-measures of national security. Because at the end of the day, what matters more than a person's life? To me, it was still a little too big brother. I left soon after that. Later someone voluntarily jumped in the pool.
The little bit of alcohol I had wore off and I went on my way, making many wrong turns. In the dark I sat by a park, waiting to know where to go. Ah, the beauty of being navigation-less. I will miss that someday. I arrived at the house a little too quickly; I liked the shape of the street. We hot-tubbed for a few hours; pruning before we were supposed to go to a beach house party. Night cool, water warm, music smooth, stars bright. It could've been the start of something...but it wasn't. We drove along the ocean, heater and music blasting, my hair still wet as a dog. It never dries, I swear. We stopped at every pier. Laughed at the drunk people. Captured the biggest balloon. The party never happened.
