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David and Robert came to Renfest with me. That was a different experience. I'm old enough to buy swords. And it was the last weekend; they were practically giving them away. So now I have two $10 swords. One to... have, and the other to disassemble and rebuild. I saw Tony and Birte there, and Tony had just bought a $30 Sting and was feeling pretty cool and manly till I brought up the point that it is not very manly at all. It's a hobbit sword. Yes, it's Elvish, but it's a hobbit sword. I keep bursting his bubbles in jest, but I don't know if he can tell. I feel mean talking to him a lot of the time.
Erin just brought me home from the cast party. Well, the sleeping after the party. It was a good party, I think. Everyone but me and Andyr got plastered (he's a teetotaler, too, but also gets drunk by association). I only retreated to Stephan's empty room to break and regroup three or four times throughout the night, despite my planning in advance at IHoP that he should be there to retreat to. There was much bad dancing and Never Have I Ever/I Have In Fact to be watched. And occasionally played from my corner, though I wasn't drinking. Tony must have been lying for at least half of his drinks. There's no way he's old enough for all of that to have happened to him. I'll believe it of Rey. Who, by the way, gives very good neckrubs. Not to be confused with Necros, as Andrew did in conversation. The top surface of my upper body was compressed from wearing 25 pounds of chainmail all day, so I was offering a massage trade to anyone who didn't suck at it, and Rey hit me first. He's good. He said my trade was good, too. Very enthusiastically, he said that. Evan Mintz, one of our many Francis-substitutes and notoriously liberal Thresher writer extraordinaire, was next. Albeit five hours later.
Many an odd conversation did we have, he and I. He declared himself highly distressed that I didn't think myself hot. I told him it was because for one thing, I don't like girls, and for another thing, no one else had ever said so, so why should I have any reason to believe it? He was quite upset. Before this party, I had no idea he wasn't gay. He's got a very forcefully flamboyant personality, delicate mannerisms, a dainty Jewish build, and a curly dark mop on his head. Stephan wants him. But, oddly enough, he thinks he's straight, and apparently thinks people should think I'm hot. Though it was obvious that he didn't really consider it himself. In any case, his neckrub was next when I asked who else besides Rey didn't suck at them, and he said he didn't, though the information was probably biased. In his book, massage and sex are almost always consecutive. I offered him a trade without the sex. He was passable. He was certainly loud and responsive to mine. Heh. Rey, Andrew and Chris (Stephan's housemate), who were the only ones left awake by this point, decided by his reaction that Evan and I should never have sex. Works for me. Goodness.
Now, the last of the night and the one that has probably ruined me for any further attempts... Guess who gives mind-blowing backrubs? Chris. The former Rice horn major who dropped out to become a chef, and is the most stereotypically male person I have ever met. He smokes, drinks, does (light) drugs, and doesn't go to school. But I could almost marry him on the strength of his massage skills. :) Well, not really. But I could get another massage from him.
I crashed voluntarily at 7am when it was just me, Andyr and Chris left discussing martial arts and mentors (well, it was mostly them discussing and me agreeing). Chris gave me a blanket on the couch, but Dan let me get out of the noise and sleep on his bed when he and the lovebirds on the couch next to mine woke me up making breakfast and cleaning up around 11:00.
I'll miss that cast. Half of them are graduating, too, the bastards. What do they want to go and do that for?
Erin just brought me home from the cast party. Well, the sleeping after the party. It was a good party, I think. Everyone but me and Andyr got plastered (he's a teetotaler, too, but also gets drunk by association). I only retreated to Stephan's empty room to break and regroup three or four times throughout the night, despite my planning in advance at IHoP that he should be there to retreat to. There was much bad dancing and Never Have I Ever/I Have In Fact to be watched. And occasionally played from my corner, though I wasn't drinking. Tony must have been lying for at least half of his drinks. There's no way he's old enough for all of that to have happened to him. I'll believe it of Rey. Who, by the way, gives very good neckrubs. Not to be confused with Necros, as Andrew did in conversation. The top surface of my upper body was compressed from wearing 25 pounds of chainmail all day, so I was offering a massage trade to anyone who didn't suck at it, and Rey hit me first. He's good. He said my trade was good, too. Very enthusiastically, he said that. Evan Mintz, one of our many Francis-substitutes and notoriously liberal Thresher writer extraordinaire, was next. Albeit five hours later.
Many an odd conversation did we have, he and I. He declared himself highly distressed that I didn't think myself hot. I told him it was because for one thing, I don't like girls, and for another thing, no one else had ever said so, so why should I have any reason to believe it? He was quite upset. Before this party, I had no idea he wasn't gay. He's got a very forcefully flamboyant personality, delicate mannerisms, a dainty Jewish build, and a curly dark mop on his head. Stephan wants him. But, oddly enough, he thinks he's straight, and apparently thinks people should think I'm hot. Though it was obvious that he didn't really consider it himself. In any case, his neckrub was next when I asked who else besides Rey didn't suck at them, and he said he didn't, though the information was probably biased. In his book, massage and sex are almost always consecutive. I offered him a trade without the sex. He was passable. He was certainly loud and responsive to mine. Heh. Rey, Andrew and Chris (Stephan's housemate), who were the only ones left awake by this point, decided by his reaction that Evan and I should never have sex. Works for me. Goodness.
Now, the last of the night and the one that has probably ruined me for any further attempts... Guess who gives mind-blowing backrubs? Chris. The former Rice horn major who dropped out to become a chef, and is the most stereotypically male person I have ever met. He smokes, drinks, does (light) drugs, and doesn't go to school. But I could almost marry him on the strength of his massage skills. :) Well, not really. But I could get another massage from him.
I crashed voluntarily at 7am when it was just me, Andyr and Chris left discussing martial arts and mentors (well, it was mostly them discussing and me agreeing). Chris gave me a blanket on the couch, but Dan let me get out of the noise and sleep on his bed when he and the lovebirds on the couch next to mine woke me up making breakfast and cleaning up around 11:00.
I'll miss that cast. Half of them are graduating, too, the bastards. What do they want to go and do that for?
