"Where's my shoe...?"

We went to the party last night. It was impressively stocked with people, for an apartment party, and with a school this size, it's very easy to see people who are familiar but in a I-see-you-in-Cobb-around-1:30-every-day kind of way. There were also the kind of the people that you met once, but don't know if you're both going to pretend you didn't. Honestly, parties can be very socially complicated.

My problem is this: I frequently meet people, but don't really get into in-depth conversations with them. There are lots of ways this could happen-- usually I'm with a friend, and briefly introduced on the side. This is a decent way to meet people in quantity, but it also means most of them almost immediately forget you. Which inhibits me (although it probably shouldn't) from approaching one of these people and starting a, "Hi, how are you, how's your life..?" Especially when these people appear deeply engrossed in conversation, which, despite movie depictions, is how most people at parties are. It's difficult to approach someone. It's nearly impossible to approach a group of people.

That said, last night was not as awkward as it could have been. People were very drunk, and I saw enough people I know/met on my own; approaching in this context is easy. I also was approached by two guys with a third in tow: an Italian guy whom it was apparently important that I meet. Except that Guy #1 spilled wine all over the floor, and seemed highly perturbed ("What should I do?"), Guy #2 left, and as I was explaining to Guy #1 how to Clean Up A Spill, Italian Guy took the opportunity to flee. I then had a very slow conversation with a very drunk Guy #1.

I talked to a few other people, and then decided to leave.

Except that I could only find one of my shoes in the shoe pile. I spent about 15 minutes looking through an array of soggy boots and tennis shoes, looking in closets and under the couches. Still, one shoe.

Luckily I knew one of the hosts, who traded me my one shoe for a pair of decidedly rather sexy boots. If there's one thing I don't have, it's a pair of sexy shoes. Cute, yes. Sexy, no. So it was a nice walk home, and I don't think I could have helped strutting a bit to the tap-tapping on the concrete. If I don't own a pair, I might as well enjoy my borrowed ones.

I was reading in bed a while later when I saw my door slowly open and U. stick her face in. "I found your shoe! But I forgot them..."

Apparently, Random Party Person had "borrowed" my shoe--one shoe--to go outside and smoke. After coming back in, she'd forgotten to take it off. U. noticed this as she was knelt
down, putting on her own shoes, and she saw one of mine walk by. There was a lot of shoe-borrowing going on last night.

Yeah, that was the most exciting thing that happened.