So its the end of the october long weekend. The beginning of the summer clubbing season, the weekend of sleaze and associated pre, post and alternative parties. All in all, ususally a very big weekend. And after weeks of waffling, I had actually planned to have a very big weekend. So it was a little underwhelming that it wasn’t very big, nor spectacular in any way. The music was mostly good, but rarely vering off into excellent. The atmosphere was pleasent, but without the frission of possibilites that usually hangs in the air. On any other weekend but this one it would have been an excellent weekend. I slept a lot.
Looking back over the past three days I would have to say that the best bits have only occured in the past few hours. Beers and boy-watching at the newtown with Mr A, dinner at happy chef with Miss L. Up until this time I’d mostly been left with a sense of dissatisfaction over the events of this weekend, and it’s this sense of dissatisfation that I shall carry into the coming week. Time spent with Mr A and Miss L this weekend has shown me that it wasn’t what I was doing that lead to the weekend being underwhelming, but rather it was my approach to choices I was making, and places I was choosing to go. For example, I went to after work drinks at a straight pub in parramatta with work friends, rather than pre-sleaze kooky with queer friends. I settled for going to sleaze with straight girl friend, thinking that because she was there it would make it different and interesting, rather than organising people to go to bad dog and therefore missing the best party of the weekend. There was much potential for great things to happen, but in choosing the safe options to avoid social awkwardness, I side-stepped it all. Which means that pretty much everyone I know had a better time ushering in summer than I did.
I have displeased the clubbing gods, and they have punished me with boredom.