Why I hate clubs, and riding the bus, and fuck buddies

Taking a break from uber-productivity this morning (I came in at 8; have a meeting with disarmament and other peace and security orgs at 1) to mention some highlights from this weekend...

• Friday night: one of those nights when things just didn't work out. Met up with S and her bud(s) at Oya, one of those oh so schmancy downtown restaurants where we each had one, and definitely only one $15 drink. (yeah, for a lot of people that's not a lot, but hey, for me $7 is outrageous...) That was fun, if only because everything with ms. u is...we headed out to meet up with isabel and co at her house, but they were on their way out, back at what fernando calls midtown (meaning we went from chinatown to adams morgan back to dupont...ugh). Anyway, because of my discomfort with trying to please too many people and inability to make decisions, I decided that rosalie and i would go to five, while they were going to meet up with us (long story). Five is one of those ultra cheesy clubs that make me hate clubs, and by extension, people/life (maybe a big leap, I was in a bad mood from all of that traveling). Why? Because it's all so fucking contrived: the club music with the same fucking beat for all 4 hours that we were there, that makes everyone "dance" in the same fucking back and forth awkward way, the guys in their club shirts that I detest to no end (please men, stop wearing striped button down shirts to clubs, it's lame), the girls gyrating on stage while men stare blankly at them...(really, is this what we've come down to as a group of people where we want our sexuality packaged in such a recognizable, easy-to-consume-but-not-quite-because-you're-not-actually-engaging way? I mean, millions of bodies and minds moving together but all you can do is gawk at women imitating cheap ass strippers, or maybe, if you're feeling brave, rub your crotch against someone's ass for a little bit?) The whole thing made me tired of being part of whatever subculture it is that offers this up as entertainment.
• Saturday, day: library. got Gilead, Kafka on the Shore (who said the library doesn't have new books??). By the way, the library is really cool...they had some sort of community event when I went, lots of speakers, well attended...who the hell pays for books anymore? MLK Jr library all the way! gtown: indulged consumerist urges. hot new kc sandals!
• Saturday evening: r and I went to this event, tearing at the seams, a celebration of alternative forms of beauty and subaltern identities or sum'n. Well, the CP had listed the event as starting at 7; we got there at about 7:45 and it hadn't yet begun. We looked at some photos on display and waited for a "fashion show" performance art thing. By 9:30, after waiting in the non airconditioned gallery for way too long, we decided to skip the show and make our way back to A-M for nicole's party. It seemed like it would have been cool, but we just weren't planning on making it our whole night. Oh well, at least the proceeds go towards something good, although I can't remember what it was.

The bus ride, from Capitol Hill to Adams Morgan, was a traumatic experience. When we got on, we noticed that there was a lot of shouting going on between the people in the back and those in the front. We figured that they knew each other and were just joking around. Well, it turns out that there was a mentally ill woman in the front screaming profanities at passengers in the back. The entire bus was laughing at her, bating her, and one girl even threatened to fight her. The bus driver stopped the bus and called the police, who escorted the woman off the bus. (Side note: this was the night of the Tyson fight in the MCI building; many people were alternating laughing at this woman with talking about how tyson was going to beat the shit out of whoever it was he was boxing.) The savagery of those couple of minutes was startling. Not just the people on the bus, although it would be wrong to absolve them of responsibility: I don't believe it's beneath anyone to know not to participate in the humiliation of an obviously vulnerable person. Perhaps some of those people were at the bottom rung of the social ladder (don't want to make assumptions) and it is a situation where the only way to feel empowered is to beat up on the only people more vulnerable than you. If that is the case, it's an astonishing reminder of the sheer cruelty of a system that pits people against each other, that humiliates them so much that it's been reinforced as the only means of survival. Yet the pocket of inhumanity that the bus ride illuminated was much more profound and disturbing: This woman had nothing to protect her from a bus full of people ready to pounce on her. She was escorted off the bus, and left to fend for herself. I could add this to my list of why I hate cities. All of these people being thrown together, and yet it seems there is no sense of commonality.

The party, on a happier note, was fantastic. I drank way too much. I am somewhat frustrated with myself, however, for going home with my fuck buddy, who sent me a text message at 2 or so. I met some cool people at the party. Not that I was going to hook up with any of them, per se, but it seems lame to close myself off from the opportunity just to have sex with someone who I know isn't going to care about me. I like him a lot, but I fear the age difference would really be too much. Sunday: gay pride festival! Erin is awesome. Yay for new friends, yay for pride!

Note to people in nyc: my sister will be there so soon, going to natural cooking school! Make friends with her! I think I'll be going there a lot this summer...