this is a time of year for vicissitude, and for extremeness in all things, which is what i always want that word to mean even though it doesn't. not for but of. it's a momentous-feeling time of year. when you have the kind of emotions and experiences that you want to write about. and this weekend, this epochal weekend, was the most so yet. and it's not over yet, even though the birds are chirruping cheerily in the (pitch dark mind you) monday morning. because i'm awake, which is only partly because i'm less tired than i probably could be. and so i'll write about it for a spell.

must begin with friday, the last day of classes; more specifically the day of my last class (not to be confused with my lsat class), which was film theory + culture and featured, most memorably, ester cracked up to tears by photographisitor, and sparkling french limonade. that afternoon/evening had the most seasonably-emblematic explosion of goings-on, the way i always get to feeling this time of year there's so much to do so many much food parties many girls people weather dancing beautiful aah it's too much and everything is just too pretty to stand, to stay, too much to feel.

then i could only squeeze it in little bits (bites, bounces, burns) because of manifest (which i'll get to later, maybe) pres going long. and instead of seeing the amid the dead screening (fine - i'd already seen it), which would probably not have led to me getting a trifle despondent, lillie and i returned to hers so we could prepare a dish for the the phoenix party. and as i hacked mango and she her big beautiful papaya we rattled off the future and i got feeling disconnected from each aspect of it, one by one, which means disconnected from these things now too. i just wanted to lay there across her bed, windowsill chinrest, looking down at the tropicalish (everything is, suddenly) greenery, across at a friendly dormer, up at the big open bluesky moon, which is very present these days (maybe that's it: we've all, or i've, gone loony) and stay and stay.

but we went, singing beach boys songs, quietly, to each other (but not the summery ones), to the chorus concert. i hadn't been sure i was up to passion, but i stayed for it all, despite michael marr's midpoint talk (which was actually fascinating, as were his notes and following along with his translation), but as he promised the second half was kairotically wonderful despite it's chronic length. something about it (maybe the sitting still) cleared my head.

so then it was party time. despite some delectable fruit + bean salad, and a decently tasty drink i made myself, the phoenix dig failed to transcend its unrepentantly bland location. but made up for it with all kinds of [non-phoenix-related] people showing up unexpectedly for me to talk to, like joe and dave and rackoff. and eva, who covered futile-danceparty-transformation-attempt duty.

next party(x6) was also fun, and way more popular. i more appreciated it than enjoyed it, as shortly after i arrived they were after me to get folks together for dip, so i went businesslike through multiple flats times to keep the posse together. when we eventually made it down, there were nine of us (rackoff and friends were already on their way up.) dip was fabulous, definitely one of the most enjoyable in memory. it was the especially nice kind where you feel so much better once you've gone in all the way that you just want to stay in the water, and ducking back in for warmth almost make sense. we played "a great wind blows." some talk of streaking, but the movies were done and paces was dark so we just went in and shook it a bit.

i figured there would be better dancing back at the barn, but actually the party was starting to dissolve there that early (explosive days make people tired, you know.) so i invited a gang of favorite friends back to mine, and we sat around in the cantina, letting the evening end properly. talked about blogs (very funny: at first we knew that three of eight of us had them; as the conversation continued it gradually came out that six did), so of course the conversation has now been amply edocumented - by ang and emmy tho not eva.

actually those entries talk mostly about the next day, worthstock and all that. which i ought to and will do too. but not yet, because that's another day, and now it is night. but i will say that i listened to pet sounds the next morning, and i don't think i've ever found it so emotionally wrenching.

wouldn't it be nice if we were older?
then we wouldn't have to wait so long