The Party Begins When YOU Get Here

Last night we had a party. Or, rather, my *roommate* had a party and I was present for most of it. Biker Boy was kind enough to call a couple of hours into the party. It was the first time I had talked to him since the airport on Thursday night. He apparently wasn't dead in a cornfield in Iowa because of a fiery plane crash like Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper. But I digress. He was taking a break from a smoky "post-reception" party at a sports bar. It all sounded a bit strange to me. But I completely appreciate that he snuck out of the party "to put his camera in the car" to call me. He was in an accident on his bike a couple of weeks ago. He got "doored," which is a term meanign he was biking along, la, la, la, biking, biking, la, la, when *BOOM*, someone opened a car door right as he was biking by and he flew off the bike. Anyway, he is okay. For someone who is insane. His family heard about this and I guess assumed he was hurt worse than he was. So he was discussing how had he known that he would have played it up and come in with a sling on his arm and a neck brace. I enjoyed the thought. He did as well. He said he wasn't sure anyone else would and that's why he called me. *sigh* He didn't have a lot of time for this, as he was LYING about what he was doing (is he embarrassed that he wanted to make a phone call? or was it just because it was ME and he wanted to avoid questions?), so he had to go soon after that. He told me that I could stay in my room and be antisocial as long as I wanted to, though, and TELL everyone I was on the phone. He would back my story up. I told him I was contemplating just shutting the door and going to bed and seeing if anyone noticed. Ha. We were both amused. Then he went back to the party he didn't want to be at and I went back to the party I didn't want to be at. The party was pretty good. People bought lots of food and liquor. I took lots of drunk folk home. I was actually gone for most of the last part of the whole thing because I was taking people home. And that's fine. It was fun. Magenta has a little seat in the back of the cab, so I can fit three in there legally, but we had up to four. Yay for illegal transportation of drunk people!! Last thought. Someone I don't talk to often told me that I run away from things and that I'm afraid to confront my problems. If that's true, I really need to examine what's going on with my life right now. Because problems seem to be cropping up and I need to deal with them. And not run.