Friendshit

Michael Michael moved out a week ago.

I don't usually get especially emotional on this blog, but I am sad. Michael Michael is as fine a person as I've ever met, and I've been fortunate to have the opportunity to live with and grow close to em these past two years. With all sincerity, Michael Michael has helped make me a better person.

Unfortunately, in addition to being a great, friendly person to me, Michael Michael is also intelligent, likable, and ambitious. Consequently, Michael Michael was offered an amazing promotion in a meaningful career which required em to relocate to the east coast. From now on, I'm only befriending people who are good companions but are clearly not going places in life, so they will never leave me.

I'm not sad because this move is the end of a friendship: I'm confident that we'll stay in touch and find excuses to see each other periodically. No, what makes me most sad about Michael Michael's move is that I won't have the chance to see em every day. It's hard to find people who are a pleasure to be with on a daily basis, and I will miss our regular conversations -- sometimes insightful, sometimes utterly trivial.

Michael Michael moving marks the end of the era, which would be fine, as truthfully, I'm prepared to make a lot of changes in my life. Unfortunately, it's the best part of the era that exits my life first. It's kind of like if I were eagerly waiting for the 80s to end, and when the 90s finally rolled around, I was still stuck with the annoying crap like Teddy Ruxpin, parachute pants, slap bracelets, Cabbage Patch dolls, Flock of Seagulls music, and big shoulder pads, yet the only cool thing that mattered, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, cruelly vanished from my life.

Immediately after taking Michael Michael to the airport, I was a bit of a basket case, but the practical side of me has won out and I'm okay. This'll be a challenge to my social life, as I no longer have a live-in best friend, but a disruption to my comfort zone just might be a good thing. It'd just be more fun to have em around while other things change instead.

Since I try to maintain this blog as mainly humorous and anecdotal rather than whiny and livejournal-esque, allow me to switch gears and commemorate Michael Michael's good-bye party. Considering the party started at 3:30 pm and I was up and socializing (read: drinking) until 7 am, I admittedly can't provide too reliable of an account. More than 40 people came and the socializing was prime. Spirits were high and spirits were consumed.

There was snuggling.

There was a beer-pedo competition.

Shea was in rare dancing form.

I was viciously groped.

And even more savagely licked. (Note: I don't molest children, I just apparently make facial expressions as if I do.)

I helped Allison after ey spilled eir beer by slurping it off the floor.


You can see more of the pictures taken on my camera (though most of which were not taken by me) here.

One potential misstep of the night was that I invited an eighteen-year-old girl to the party, too, because she's awesome and likes grammar. I figured, okay, she's underage, but she seems responsible, and I know us to be responsible, so what really could go wrong?

Wouldn't you know it? The poor thing fell and hit her head and started bleeding -- a lot, even. Yeah, wasn't anticipating that. I started realizing that maybe it wasn't a good idea to invite her. After about half an hour, the bleeding stopped, and we cleaned her up, and she was her chipper self again. So while there was a moment I was afraid of potential legal action against me, I wouldn't change a thing, except maybe the head injury.

Since this girl had taken public transportation to get to the house, Alice offered to drive her home, and I accompanied for the ride. Michael Michael only caught the part where I said "be right back" and walked out the door with the girl, and ey was apparently concerned that I had some ill-conceieved intentions. Of course, it wasn't like that at all and Michael Michael later admitted that it was not something remotely in my character to do, though I suppose I do have a thing for young head trauma victims.

To conclude this strange post, let me share two songs. First, the hottest dance track about Miami ever, "This Is Miami." The first line of the song claims that this is not Miami, but later, after considering every other city in the world as a possibility, seems to rescind this statement and decide that, in fact, This Is Miami, repeating
this fact dozens of times. Yeah, it's dumb, but it characterizes Miami pretty well.

Sander Kleinenberg - This Is Miami


Second, the oddly appropriate Polyphonic Spree song that randomly came on my I-Pod immediately after dropping Michael Michael at the airport and I then proceeded to put on repeat to keep me smiling and distracted. The distracting part worked a bit too well as I missed my freeway change and proceeded to take an extra forty minute detour on the way home.

The Polyphonic Spree - Move Away and Shine


Happy trails, dear friends!