tired

So, I went to a party at Snu this evening with Sara and some other people. Fun people. I like them. And I've come to realize that frat parties, no matter when or where, will always take me back in some way to fall term of last year. I went to three parties that term: Beta, TKE, and Snu. (For comparison, I've been to that many since, all of them at Snu as well—once was enough at the other two.) And for a minute this evening, over by the wall, doing something that slightly resembled dancing, instead of Dee, it was Sarah, my first roommate, leaning over to yell in my ear, "Are you having fun?"

I don't want to be the antisocial weirdo who knows nobody and never goes anywhere. I don't want to be the "project" friend that people try to coax into being social. I really don't. And I don't think I am, not really. But I don't like frat parties.

I don't dislike them. They often have their fun moments. But it's only just something to do. It's like playing Text Twist: something to do to pass the time between doing things I really like. It can be fun sometimes, but it's not like I get out of class and think, "Oh boy, I can't wait to go home and play Text Twist this evening!" And unlike Text Twist, after an hour at a frat party, I'm ready to go home. I'm overwhelmed. The crush of people, the pounding music, the shouting to be heard, the flashing lights—for me, these are generally things to be tolerated, not sought out.

And so I end up walking home alone most times, while everybody else stays at the party. But that's okay. It gives me time to settle down. I need that sometimes.