Insomniaville: The Journal

5/28 -- Espuma!

Nothing to start off a long weekend like a dance club foam party.

I went to a foam party with several Crunchlanders a few years back and remembered it as an unqualified blast. You're soaked, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is plastered to your face, and your contacts are stinging like a bitch, but you just don't care. Running around in the foam and rolling around in it like a kid having fun on a snow day are what matters.

Yeah, you could probably achieve the same thing by just dumping a few bottles of Mr. Bubble in the tub, overflowing it, and putting some techno music in a boombox in your bathroom.

But it just wouldn't be the same.

Bill and I headed out to meet a few friends at another foam party on Friday night. We went to the same club, Buzz, which has undergone about four ownership changes and an extreme makeover since the last time I went to a foam night there. Even the surrounding area of Southeast DC (yikes) has cleaned itself up considerably since then -- it's well-lit and much neater. I could imagine walking through there to find a cab without fearing for my life.

We had to wait a long time for the foam, and I had more than enough time to be put on edge by the massive crowds pouring into the club. I can't believe how out-of-place I feel in these clubs these days. The other younger, bouncier, cuter clubgoers sported bikini tops and glitter and goggles and glow sticks. And there were tons of people -- before long, a simple walk to the bar 20 feet away would take 10 minutes, easily. I huddled in a corner feeling cranky and conspicuous in a black skirt and lime green T-shirt. I shoved down one of my socks so my lone ankle tattoo would be more visible.

But then it was time for the foam, the great equalizer. The club has the foam parties on an outdoor patio, and on this night they'd delayed the start of the festivities because the windy night kept blowing the foam away. When they finally opened the doors, we ran outside and found a beautiful, surreal scene. Like winter in May. Clouds of foam were floating everywhere in the breeze. The night sky was cloudy and reflected the reddish glow of the city lights. Eerie and gorgeous.

The foam smelled like strawberries and had a tendency to pile up in the corners of the patio. Bill and I lurked in a foamdrift that reached up well over our heads before deciding to brave the middle of the patio where the foam jets were spewing the stuff everywhere. I didn't get close enough, though. People were jumping up and down and banging into each other under the foam jets, and I had bad visions of getting knocked down and being hidden by foam and trampled underfoot before anyone noticed I was gone. Moshed to death under billows of Mr. Bubble. I guess there might be stranger ways to go.

Two images I found particularly intriguing: From our vantagepoint under our canopy of foam, Bill and I could see the Capitol building looming over us. It seemed oddly decadent to be writhing around all foamy and drunk right in the shadow of that famous dome. (No, I didn't see any congresspeople, and if they were there they would have been unrecognizable with foam all over their heads, so don't ask.)

And at one point as I got close to the foam jets, I nearly fell over someone I'd seen in the club earlier: a bare-chested boy wearing a jester hat and using a wheelchair that he had no compunctions about positioning directly under the foam. He was so covered with the stuff that I almost didn't see him until I spotted the outline of one of the wheels.

I don't know if we'll be making this a monthly habit or anything -- the crowds in the place were insane and showed no signs of abating as we forced our way outside to our cars. But I enjoyed the break from routine.

Other than that, our weekend was fairly mellow. Today, we finally did something we've been threatening and needing to do for ages: we had a movie marathon featuring several DVDs we've bought but never watched. Most of them were movies I'd either never seen ("Office Space") or hadn't seen in so long that I might as well have been watching them for the first time ("Creature Comforts," "Repo Man," and "Aliens").

I remembered "Repo Man" as being somewhat boring, so I'm thrilled by how much I liked it today. It's probably going to supply me with no end of Hip and Ironic Quotes ("Let's order sushi and not pay!"), so be warned.

The Sims Are Back! The Sims Are Back!: I think I probably get more happy e-mails about the Sims stuff I did last year than about any other thing I've written. A few weeks ago I got the Apple version of "Living Large." Since then, any remaining resemblance my Sims had to the lives of normal people is over.

In retrospect, I really don't like the "sidebar" layout I had last year (makes the page cluttered and really hard to read), so I set up this page. Hope you enjoy it. I tried to reduce the graphics as much as possible so they wouldn't take a year to load on slower connections.

Indulging my inner hit slut

(Clix for your thoughts?)

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