Okay, we're still going on about druglessness, if only because I'm surprised how much I stick to my guns when surrounded by the influence in social settings, without being "that guy." The party itself was great, almost made moreso by the fact that I had a great time without having anything aside from snacks while there. I walk in and it's some ridiculous girlygirl dance party going on, with all the dudes cowering in the corner. Seriously, you want to see straight dudes get really fucking uncomfortable, start playing obscure musical numbers and dance around in impromptu choreography. There's absolutely no way to join in when a dude's positive experiences with musicals begins and ends with Reefer Madness and The Who's oevure. Once that concluded I ended up meeting tons of great people by discussing art, drugs and music in totally different circumstances. It was a helluva mix of people that seem to follow that strange Philadelphia Social Net rule.
More than a lot of places, Philadelphia seems to create these unusually large social networks, with tons of parties interconnected. I mean, for being the 6th largest city in the US, you'd figure people wouldn't run into each other that much, or that you could actually have unrelated groups of friends, but it all inevitably winds up whittling down to 3 Degrees of Kevin Bacon (a Philly-area native, har har). I've stopped asking how people know each other, and chances are I've either seen or met my friends three or four times before officially meeting them. "So how do you know Sasha?" "Well... she used to be a regular at [insert retail gig], and we worked together at [insert new gig] for a month before the car crash, and we met like a year and a half later one random night at Oscar's, and it turns out I met her boyfriend before at the comic book store..." You get the point. I've stopped caring how people know each other, unless it's a cute girl and I want to know if she's dating someone.
How doesn't seem as important as why, in many of the circumstances that I've encountered. "How" seems almost subservient to figuring out "why," and oftentimes asking the former without the latter deals with the latter being invented in one form or another in the mind of the individual. Sometimes I wish in social encounters more people would ask me why, rather than hound with endless musings and doggedness about my path in life, mostly pertaining to my personal stance on "higher" education. It fits a system I want as little to do with as possible. Being a caveman's cheap, and I doubt I'm going to feel any manner of contentment in retiring, seeing how I tend to fall into a catatonic panic when I have nothing to do with my time (as I sit here blogging instead of doing a host of other useful things).
It's funny: all I want is a second job and I'm making friends, and when I had a full-time job all I wanted to do was spend more time making friends. Somewhere, there's some metaphysical cartoon character laughing at my expense as my wallet dries up and my hospitality needs grow. I'm hoping I don't have to start hitting the street corners just to pay the bills. Kidding, but still... fingers are crossed.