fatvegan

Last night I went to the 21^st of a friend of mine from uni. We've been friends since my first semester there and she's probably the only person I met then who is still there. She is super cool and one of my favourite people there - one of the few not that concerned with how cool she looks. She has always struck me as kind of shy, and I wasn't sure what to expect. For a 25 year-old, 21^st parties are scary at the best of times but going by yourself to a party on the northern beaches was fairly difficult for me. I ended up being pretty late, but I decided I wanted to go because I always cop out of these sorts of parties and I thought it would be nice to see my friend in her element. I'd also had two glasses of wine at dinner, and I'm pretty sure that made it easier.

So I got there about three hours after it started worried that everyone would have gone home. I thought there was a chance it would be a quiet sort of affair with official starting and finishing times. But a quiet affair it certainly wasn't. As I walked up the street I was accosted by some other party-goers who were taking a breather outside. They asked my how I new my friend and loudly announced that she was inside half-naked. So I walked inside and sure enough there she was. After some drunken hugs and declarations of love and good-humored sexual assault by one of her friends I was directed upstairs to the heart of the party. No one was remotely sober except for one lad standing downstairs by himself who reminded me of me. There were drunk girls in tiny dresses lolling about and drunk girls in slightly less tiny dresses trying to fend of drunk boys.

It was a posh house with split levels and everything made out of expensive wood. I'd been trying to figure out why my friend, who lives in the Western Suburbs, was having a party on the northern beaches in this sort of a house. I assumed her parents must know some fancy people and they'd been able to borrow it. But I couldn't see any adults there. I was definitely the oldest by several years. I'd brought some beer so I put it down and took a bottle for myself. It was a bizarre scene and I was glad for the wine with dinner or standing by myself in the middle of the kitchen would have been more awkward than amusing. As it was, I thought it was great. Of about 70 people no-one was really having a normal conversation, although there may have been two of the more amply-dressed girls who were close. It was just drinking and hugging and eating and laughing and flirting and taking photos and dropping digital cameras. Not having a camera or any food, there weren't any talents I could really contribute to the party.

After about 15 minutes I was starting to wonder if I could leave quietly. It felt pretty lame, but there is only so long you can stand around for when you haven't any food. I considered going and talking to the sober boy, but a drunk boy decided to take him under his wing. I was a bit stumped.

Then I was saved. Three people, all in their forties, came into the house and started yelling at everyone to leave. They demanded my friend come forward and explain herself. She was standing right next to them and got a pretty vicious smack down. Apparently they had been promised there would be no parties in the house and the police had been called because it was so loud. It was like a real bust. I thought they were pretty rough on my friend but I suppose you can't blame them. My friend recovered quickly and suggested everyone go to the beach. Everyone was relieved, although a few boys got angry before girls were able to usher them out.

I grabbed my beer and left with the others. As appealing as the thought of going to the beach with all those folks was, I decided against it. I drove off but became worried that my two wines and a beer had put me over the limit. So I stopped at Dee Why beach. I haven't been there since I was little and it was so strange going back. The whole beach has shrunk enormously. But it was really nice. The sky and water were totally black and the murky moon was popping throught he clouds. I sat on the beach and waited for the moon to come out and then jumped into the water. It was wonderful. One of my favourite midnight swims (although it may have been more like 11:30). It was amazingly warm. And the moon was beautiful.

After my swim I strolled past some lesbians having flirtatious races on the sand and got back in the car. I drove home and watched the first 5 minutes of El Mariachi before falling asleep. Oddly enough, it was a pretty fun night.