remembering some parties outside the coutnry  

myfingersmells1 44F
575 posts
7/26/2006 3:31 pm
remembering some parties outside the coutnry

Writing to my friend abroad of my travels has been interesting. I have tried to capture the elements of my experience while still allowing for the mystery of my life to continue with those that are not able to participate in life with me.

One such exchange:

The first event in a series of fantastic fin de
semanas was our Alter-Ego Party. I know this might
stun you, but I dressed as a fairy, all in white and
with flowers. There were many other costumes, and the
night's orbit widened and widened, out into the
unrecoverable, until the morning light showed how many
bodies and empty bottles were amazingly still laying
about our apartment, just there, right at our feet. I
myself ventured across a swath of untrackable space
with a certain jungle man wearing a great black wig
and a small red pagna. The next day, I went away to
an isolated beach to the south, separated from its
principle village by a mangrove swamp, so the water
was very clean and no one is there. The owners of the
island I came to are French chefs, so I ate creamy
delights cooked in sea shells and steeped in the sun
through that Monday. I took a day off.

The next weekend was long as well, so I rented a
little white car with some others and we all drove
south for another lovely weekend on the
shore. We drank a lot of coconuts and beer and
discussed whether or not a sinking ship in the ocean
actually creates a sort of suction that causes people
in the water near it to drown. I am firmly convinced
this is a mariner's myth.

The following weekend was, of course, my birthday.
The roommates said they would have a few friends for
dinner, but with all the food and drink and voices,
and with that damn string of little white lights we
keep hung in our living room because the light in
there doesn't work, it quickly spun in the same
direction and with the same determined gusto as before
out past the bounds of the regular social. We'd read
a fair amount of feminist literature aloud to tease
the men the weekend before, so my cake said a snappy
"Happy Birthday Cunt," and our sexy roommate
gave me a lap dance, and...oh yeah, the
French-Canadian jungle man came back again. What a
wonderful birthday! By the way, don't be confused,
the other French-Canadian, the poet guy, he left the

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