Sunday, 7 March 2010

Notes from the party

The party was all an idea to be with new and old friends and have them mixing. I was talking to a few friends on facebook and set up a date. A theme, I find, is always required for a successful party, as well as good way to communicate the party informations ( facebook in this instance). And here I am writing about it.
I am happy I don't have to drive anywhere. I'm high from joints passing, drunk from my whisky bottle, I've giggled a bit on a laughing balloon and accepted a ritual offering of a line. I'm writing and Dom is talking to me. Dom is my good parisian friend's boyfriend. He studies sociology and film studies, and I enjoy talking to him. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking my whisky and he is curious about what I write before it is written. He won't be the only one and I don't mind.
The theme of the evening is movie characters. Any movie. I thought I would do a theme wide enough so everybody could come just dressed up as anything they wanted and find the movie afterwards. The real souls of the party where recognized though as the people who selected their character first and made the costume afterwards.
The evening ended up being a convention of alternative controversial protagonists. There was Ennis Del Mar from Brokeback Mountain, Marla from Fight Club, a tranvestite Edward Scissorhands, a lonely Blues Brother, two Minnie Mouse ( Mice ? ), a cross-dressed Lara Croft and Tinkerbell (Dom), a magnum P.I. and women pirates from the eponymous movie. No Indiana Jones, James Bond, Snow White. That makes me happy.
My flatmates and I have all cleaned and rearrange the house to make it party proof. Saturday was the day. I woke up early because of an accidental phone call to me by a friend. I did all my washing and went to the drier, There, I received a call from my girlfriend, a good reminder of love and puts me in a good mood.
My room is clean. Even if the house's vacuum cleaner's is deficient. I moved my bed and desk to hide the different spills and disorders. It looks clean precisely. What helped was my flatmates enthousiasm for moving all the furnitures out of the living room. I ended up having the big sofa, so I had a square made of the bed in the corner, the dest at the window and a sofa covering my book shelf wall.
I have a history of failed parties. But this one will be the exception. While writing that, I have Ace Ventura who wants to leave a quote for me, and he writes: " I can only experience a party through my body,but then I influence my body with powders, my body schema changes, the Gestalt shifts and I get BATTERED !" Thank you Ace for this quote that expresses some of the entertaining aspects of the party.
I'm just enterering now a conversation about taste. The usual top 5 favorite movies. The state of a strange mesmerizing witch in black are True Romance, Platoon, Nightmare on Elm Street, When Harry met Sally and Toy Story. Hunter S. Thompson's ones are Amores Esperos, Chopper, Monster, ,Monsters Inc. and Halloween H2O. Everything flies. The conversation change to a grand question nf art: is the appropriation of a piece of art's meaning by the public is a good thing. And as the conversation evolve, so is the spirit of the party. I just noticed that my small room, after a moment while it had only three people, has now, let me count...15 people.
When I've set up the date on the facebook group, I didn't consult my flatmates. They complained a little bit at the beginnning, or they had other plans that turned up to be not that important. A flatmate of mine tried, and succeded a bit, guilt tripping me for doing that so quickly. But every was set. We were Patrick Bateman, Ron Burgundy, Ennis Del Mar, Freddy Krugger and an un-dressed up, Hosts of the Party.
I want to thank my neighbours for really working on their costumes. I have harrassed people I'd invite about their costumes, trying to make them feel they risk stigmatization if they wouldn't come dressed up. And now, my brand new toothbrush is the new wand of Minnie from Paris, and it goes in the mouths of everybody in the room. It won't go in my mouth, I have a cold, I wouldn't want to share it.
Hosts have prepared their rooms and all rooms have different personnalities. I bought covers for the sofa and my bed, on which I poured fake blood. I also got myself a bottle of whisky that I shared, and which is now corrupted by a strange mix my flatmate did at this end of the night.
The party started with us lonely hosts waiting for our guests in a house prepared for anything except desertedness. So I went to my neighbours' who put me in a joyfull mood, dressed up in comical manners and yet so remarkably well. They came back to my house and suddenly the party kicked off with every other guests following in line behind them. It was 9.30. A good time to start a party.
I am Patrick Bateman. Suited up with blood spatter on my face, I handed my business cards with my phone number on it all night long. Next morning, I'll receive of course text messages from unknown numbers asking for my service as a cold blooded killer. Thank you Marla by the way for having provided this idea. I have discovered during the evening it is a consensus that this character suits my persona. I don't know how to interpret that. Maybe I should kill someone to see if I really share the pleasures of American Psycho's protagonist. Any volunteer ?
Our living room being empty, it was the perfect spot for our guests in a dancing mood. Our speakers weren't loud enough, so Minnie from Paris went to get hers and the party really kicked off. If I was in the living room, I would have asked for "Thhhee Paarrrttyyy" by Justice. But I wasn't there and the party didn't need any introductory song anyway.
When the party was well started, I tried to meet everybody and give my time to everybody, a hard task. I had a few friends I hadn't seen for a long time, there was catching up that needed to be done there still. I walked a lot around and maybe didn't distributed my presence well enough. If anyone feels I wasn't there enough for them at the party, I'm sorry. (No surprise, I am highly self-centered)Still, every groups of friends at some point broke and people met new people. I wasn't needed that much for the matters of introductions.
We had four of our rooms open, an empty living room and the kitchen. The key places of the party were, as always though, the hallways and stairs. You could see migrations, interactions separations and avoidances of people. What made the life of the party. I have to say arrogantly now that my room was an almost consistent nexus of the party and have been complimented to have made it so. Upstairs were the people taking different drugs, in the front room was a guy selling laughing gas balloons - I'm still not sure how he landed at our party- in my room were some joints running and generally in the house people had drinks in there hands.
I'm glad I've bought my bottle of whisky. Ennis Del Mar bought two bottles of vodkas and I think a lot of people should have thanked him for that. On their behalves, I thank you gay cowboy. It's sunday and I don't feel that sick since I stayed on my alcohol all night. Everybody brought cans and bottles of cider and beer. I don't care what people drink, but I'm trying to picture the volume that will represent in bins.
I have a party loot as well. It's not exactly a loot, I'll give the stuff back if asked. I have Hunter S. Thompson's pipe, I have Lara Croft's gun, I have a wig and a sword. I feel it's the beginning of my career as a pirate. Looting is my only incentive for such an laborious but much needed cleaning of my room needs.
Now that I'm caffeined up, I can still see that good parties have a great life. The party ended slowly - I have to make a point that I am proud as well that the first people to leave left for being too drunk or sex which are always signs of a good party-, I wasn't part of the final breaking and death of the party. I'm afraid I might, by the end, have alienated maybe some people by writing. But now, I know what was my intention when starting to write this. I wanted a general picture of the party at its peak.
I'm sitting majestuously on my desk chair, observing my whole room. Next to me on the sofa, there is a tall manly Lara Croft talking about a philosophy of time to two Beetle Juices. On the other side of the sofa, there are pirates talking and laughing with Freddy Krugger and his holiday hat. Jasmin from Aladdin and the german Minnie are talking to Tom Cruise from Top gun and a Grease's bearded Pink Lady. At the door of my room Magnum has some difficulties socializing but he manages, listening to Elwood Blues and a student of Battle Royal talking movies. In the hallway, just outside my door, we can find Catwoman and Bugs Bunny having a couple's chat in polish.
In the living room "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley is kicking on. Edward Scissorhands and a haired Death from Lost Highway ( the bold guy dress in black in the movie is Death, but that is just my personal interpretation) are making out in a corner. It doesn't disturb the dancing of the a male Tinkerbell, Minnie from Paris,Cleopatra, Charlie Chaplin (dancing like Michael Jackson), a skier, Poison Ivy and her basket of treats and the Ugly from the good, the bad and the ugly. I ignore obviously in my description anyone not dressed up, they are extras only.
In the Kitchen, there is a swisso-malaysian drug lord couple talking to the Devil. While upstairs James Dean and Hunter S. Thompson are corrupting Ace Ventura, Ron Burgundy and Froddo. The question has to be raised though: is it because of drugs that Ace talks to animals ?
Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, there is Marla not giving a fuck and elegantly chain-smokes.


Anyway, I had a great time and I'm sorry that I can't depict better the atmosphere of that night, but I think I'll remember it.
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