Party time

I've been super duper extra special busy at work lately. I've been getting in early, staying very very late, and almost not doing anything at socially. I managed to get to two parties in the last few weeks, one for David's birthday and one for "Friendster."

David's party was terrific. I sometimes forget that the reason I stayed affiliated with CrossPathCulture for so long was the friends I had there, who I would never see in the course of my normal life.

David, in typical David fashion, threw his fete (I have to call it a fete, to call it a party doesn't do it justice) at the Top of the Tower at the Beekman. Despite horrible warm weather all day, by the time we reached the roof, the temperature had dropped to one where it felt the the wind was kissing you every time it moved, and when it didn't you could stand comfortably.

The usual gang of David's friends was there - his sisters Mary and Brenda, his brother Peter and his wife, Tommy and Jenny, Brian Franklin, Clover and her boy, Miranda and hers, Alana Yudin and several others.

It felt like slipping back into a comfortable and well remembered circle of friends. A nice way to spend an evening.

(clicking on images pops up a larger version)

Partygoers

Technically, the Friendster party should have been fun. Technically, everyone at the party should have known everybody else. Technically, everybody who knew everybody should have been able to introduce everybody to everybody. After all, that's the point. That was the point of Six Degrees, that is the point of FOAF and all of these other social networking sites. They only work, however, if you let them really work.

Unfortunately, someone added a friend who wasn't actually someone that they knew. This complicated matters because at that point it became two distinct groups of friends, and there was no overlap. Basically, the party invites came to a bunch of people who didn't know each other. (Confused yet? So were we!)

When I arrived, the first thing I faced was a girl screaming at me "Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?" I had one of those brief panic moments where you hope to God you didn't go on a date with the person you're looking at, and now can't remember his or her name. Up until this point, I'd never encountered that before. I can remember the name of every girl I've ever kissed, much less gone on a date with. And yet, here was this girl, looking at me and screaming "do you remember me? Do you remember me?"

Needless to say, I didn't.

Turned out it was Rosalie, Bertie's friend, asking if I'd remembered the one time that I met her. I didn't. Her voice I remembered clearly, but I couldn't place it. Eventually, she made clear that she was one of Bertie's friends and it made sense.

There were two groups. One group was friends with Bertie, students at Cardozo, people I know. This group included Tracy, Eunice, Gil, myself and Rosalie.

We left the partly shortly thereafter. One of the partyers seemed a bit too touchy feely with Bertie (ignoring completely her "I don't like boys" signals) and there was a bit of a run in between the various girls, so we all left.

A drunken stumble later we found ourselves at Cedar Bar, home of the incredibly good $16 prime rib. And the salad with the wicked good champagne vinaigrette. Which, of course, I had. Tracy and Rosalie left after awhile, and I ended up walking Eunice back to First avenue. The story should have some sort of ending, but short of "they went home and passed the fuck out, totally exhausted" there is nothing. Sorry. I'll try to have more drama at the next party.

Gil

Tracy

Bertie

Besides that evening out? Yeah, I was at work. I don't want to talk about it. It's been one of those weeks. Stop. Be nice about it.

Joi Ito joined the board of Mindjack where I am an infrequent contributor. Cool. Yet another member of the Blognoscenti I'm affiliated with. Or Technorati. Or whatever you want to call it.

Posted by Swerdloff at June 29, 2003 12:21 PM