But We've Got The Biggest Balls Of Them All!

Copernicus' Birthday (astronomer)
Japanese Internment Anniversary (oh, whoop-de-doo)

 

People who pay attention to the Current Music blurbs on my journals may have noticed that my taste in music is about 136° out of sync with everyone else’s. I actually suspect this is the case for most people, but I really don’t know. All I know is that the masquerade’s music choice went beyond bad into plots of mutiny. It featured all those songs that are supposedly Popular right now, and which everyone actually hates—the epitome being that song by the Black-Eyed Peas about humps, which has lyrics that are physically painful to me.* I estimate there was a total of three songs that were any good in that entire 4½ hours of masquerading: Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” the Pointer Sisters’ “Jump (For My Love),” and the favorite of the group I was with, O-ZONE’s truly inexplicable “Ma Ya Hi (Dragonstea Din Tei).”

 

If I were the DJ, though, people would be fleeing the room in the terror that they were having a surreal dream with no basis in reality. The music would be a freakish mixed playlist consisting of Celtic fiddling, classic rock, waltzes by Strauss and Chopin, novelty songs, rai, mele, and sea shanties, along with songs that I would consider requisite for a formal masquerade: Tom Lehrer’s “Masochism Tango,” Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Masquerade,” from the Phantom of the Opera, Paul McCartney’s “Ballroom Dancing,” and of course AC/DC’s ode to high society, formal Podsnappery, and double entendres, “Big Balls.”** And I would play each song at a MANAGEABLE VOLUME, so that people would not spend the next few hours hearing everything in a slightly muffled filter, and could TALK over it, because I thought that was the point of parties. (I may be several hundred years behind on that belief, though.) I got so frustrated I started signing, which didn’t help since nobody else knows any ASL except Seth, and all he can say is his name and “Let’s speak Spanish!”

 

So the party was a bit disappointing in that it was a typical college dance, but there were some fun bits. As always, my favorite bit was setting up. I took one of those cheap black plastic masks from the pile the ISA got for people who didn't bother with masks beforehand, and I fingerpainted a gold border on it. And I got the peacock feathers! I even managed to get over my balloon fear to help make a gigantic balloon arch. Ally and I did more fingerpainting and brush-painting to make nice masks to put up on the walls. Everyone was so excited and busy that it was fun to hang out with them.

 

It was fun to see everyone’s costumes, though. I kept my mask up on my forehead a lot to show off my great big eyes, which my glasses tend to shrink. I don’t wear contacts very often, so when I do I want people to see my best feature. I also was glad I could wear the bangles that Afshan got me, and that I could show off my tattoo. Ally’s costume was by far the best, because she went as the Red Death. She even managed to get onto the balcony over the ballroom and strike a presiding and ominious pose, which I know somebody got a picture of. I liked Brita’s, too, because it was wispy and all purple and blue with a peasant blouse.*** Molly had a pair of butterfly wings that she had made herself that I think she should keep and wear around campus on random days. Seth was the best dancer, and Emily was wonderfully enthusiastic about everything, especially about trying to beat the DJ into playing “Cross the Ocean.” Stupid DJ.

 

I did manage to get some talking done, though mostly I couldn’t hear a bloody thing. I met a girl I’ve seen around a couple times, Ellie, and we talked/shouted for a while—I quite like her. She told me when and where the LGBTQWTFBBQ Alliance (never could get the hang of that abbreviation) meets—I’ve been curious and wanting to get into it, but too lazy to find out that sort of information. And thus my social life takes another left turn in its spiral outward.

 

Good party. I didn’t even have the emotional crash I usually get at those bizarre things. Instead I came home, flung on nice warm PJs with gusto, and made burritos for myself and for Liz, who stayed to clean up.

 

And now I must study for phonetics. And get dinner, which my personal clock counts as elevenses.

 

I love weekends.

 

 

*As versus masterpieces like “All Shook Up,” which as far as I can tell includes the immortal lines:

 

Bless my soul, what’s wrong with me?

I’m itching like a man on a fuzzy tree

My friends say I’m acting wild as a bug

I’m in love … I’m all shook up.

 

**And my balls are always bouncing

And my balls are always full

And everybody comes and comes again!

If your name is on the guest list,

No one can take you higher

Everybody says I've got

Great balls of fire!

 

***While she was driving us around to do some shopping, we stopped by Brita’s parents house, and I would like to say that I love her parents. And her pets.