Thursday I Don't Care About You

Nov 11, 2005 · 2 minute read

Well, if nothing else tonight, I learnt I’m going to die alone.

In fact, I learnt it twice, but I'm only going to talk about the major event.

The Indie Disco was perhaps not the greatest idea. I should have heeded the warning that nobody else could come (Laura had worked a double shift, was tired and facing another such shift early tomorrow, while Collin and Christa both had to get up very early in the morning for work), but heck, I'd been looking forward to going, and I'd promised Canon that I'd show up, seeing as how we've had a few conversations over the past few months.

Now, one thing needs to be clear: there was absolutely nothing wrong with the venue itself. In fact, watching a bunch of Americans dancing to Common People is incredibly amusing. But then there was me, strapped to the back of the room, terrified, unable to forget my self-conscious nature. So yes, I can wander around campus with a Pac-Man costume on, but I can't step out onto the dance floor by myself.

I stayed for about an hour and a half, saying hello to Canon up on the stage, smiling at the choice of Panic by The Smiths, and looking enviously at the girl in the black top and grey skirt, who, looking a lot like Manda Rin from Bis, was happily dancing away by herself. But I was mostly English, and just couldn't.

I suppose, looking at the bright side, I'm now a Local 506 member, three years late admittedly, but now a member…