Beauty, Living through the Speakers, Higher and Higher, iPod = iGod, Federal Hill, Contentment

I am in love again, could I say it was for the very first time? A solid dinner in Federall Hill left me full and contented. I fell asleep after I had to abadon my Father on the road to the Expressway as Grady was demanding service. Dad and I had a great meal up in a locale that was at once kitsch and fundamentallytrue.

In the aftermath of a drunken night, I am find myself trying to convert. It is a 2:30 in the morning and all I need is a field goal to solidify the evening.

Mis-steps at every possible avenue allow me to believe that Karma owes me a good turn. I have watched the night find its way into the dark corners of the world and re-emerge triumphant. Smiling like a Count Dracula with fangs dripping blood in the midnight air.

I wanted her, and her, and her over there. Its as if, if I decide I want them, fate decides they shall never want me. I piece together a quiltwork of oops and what-ifs in the fairy-inspired drunkness of the night.

We never got to the real party. We were in the wrong room. The real party was dancing 35 deep in a room across the quad. We were deep in the Rugby Lesbian Frat and wondering which way was out. Goethe emerged like the messiah amongst the trash and bile that surrounded the rooms. It was all techno and lingerie and women you preferred to see in clothes.

I took a hug from a distant friend in the corner and introduced myself through her to the only other attractive women at the party. Goethe came from the same backdoor I had taken in.

He and I crossed through a hallway that was fundamentally sacrilegious. It was all graffitied and a tagged up every which way. On the walls proclaiming "ZDI" and "Brown Women's Rugby" was the phrase "Crotch Munchers '06".

I vomited falsely in the midnight, flourescent air. What the fuck were they talking about. I had the feeling that some sort of sick sexual degradation was necessary to gain entrance to this women's frat.

I needed out.

Goethe and I took the nearest exit to the frat across the hall. I thought it was Sigma. It turned out to be A E Pi, a Jewish establishment well-known for throwing mediocre parties and holding it down for the glory of Hilliel.

Caleb hit us up with Dodgy cheap beers called Genesees. Goethe and I made do while a fellow Jewish A E Pi-er explained their maintance of the frat's Shukkot despite religious code against such behavior.

I smiled, and joked. Goethe pounded 'Gansetts on my behalf and explained that I was already past due.

There is no need to elaborate on the details herafter. It was all "Goodnight", cokes, smiles and hugs. Girls went by with water bottles winking at destiny and promising no hangovers in the morning.

I went after Dallas as though I was Santa Anna. I could never succeed. She was promised to a jock somewhere above my stature, and the radical writer/poet element was not enough to win her over.

I could not woo Anne either. She was drunk. She was disobedient. I wished that she would come back to Poland with me and talk with Emme. But she wouldn't.

I curled up in a sheet listening to Death Cab and praying that death would take me quickly. Another wasted Saturday at Providence. What the fuck do I care if there were parents and the Beirut?

I wanted something. But Brown gave me nothing. Like before, only again. Nothing was different. Thayer Street means nothing to the sober and saddened. I was alone and isolated.

What does it even matter?