Frolic was pretty down beat for me, I had some fun but felt pretty lonely most of the evening. My head and heart weren't really in it this month.
My enthusiasm for the evening had started evaporating early late Saturday afternoon while suffering through what felt like a civil war in my lower GI track sparked by leftovers from the Chinese I'd been to the night before.1 The closer it got to being time to leave the more I scaled back back what I was going to take with me, pondering skipping the party entirely. After feeling a bit better I forced myself to gear up and go...mostly to could keep a promise to myself take some gear to Frolic and wear it around in public, something I'm usually shy about doing without others actively encouraging me.2
By the time I'd left for Frolic I'd talked myself out of latex and Micky Mouse boots and instead slummed it with black spandex from head to toe and a gasmask. Sadly I felt kind out of out place and ignored when I was wearing the mask, only really finding quality social interaction when I'd pull the fucking thing off. The whole experience of it was weird, almost off-putting on the notion of gearing up at Frolic again in the future. I know that my head wasn't in the right place to this last weekend so I'll give it another shot or two...it's just...well...you know...gearing up at party like that feels pointless without a partner in crime.
1. Worst service ever, food quality wasn't terrible but also not even mediocre.
2. By encouraging, I mean dragging my sorry, silly ass out of the house in gear.
