Reflections Of A Night On Wildcat Canyon Road

Feelin' pretty weird, like reality manifesting itself right in front of me. Plans that were made, and now they materialize and become full-bloom. A short stop on the long route, a small beginning to a much larger ending, a step toward becoming that which seemed totally implausible. My life unraveling, but not in a bad way, just in a new direction. Yeah, feelin' strange, feelin' apprehensive on this night spent with friends and family on Wildcat Canyon Road.

A blank faced friend with his shirt tucked in and pulled up high creates a Carl (from the film Slingblade) effect. A piece of food accidentally rolls off my plate and stops in the center of the wooden floored room. The blank faced friend sees it, but for an instant eyes me too. Strange concern in his eyes, yet still blank, almost black, as if he shows no signs of anything, even life. Instead of reaching down and picking it up, he slowly raises his foot to avoid the debris and steps over it in a meticulous fashion, as if he was navigating around a land mine. Later, the same man grabs his crotch repeatedly, mumbles to himself and eventually wanders outside, not to be seen for a while.
Bearded men and friends with interesting facial hair patterns move and dance around the room. Attractively dressed female friends do the same and seem to be having a genuinely swell time. My friends converge with Sarak's and my parental figures. I hear ambient speak of the present time, the climate, the past, and the environment in which we all exist. My father tries to piece it all together, sometimes getting confused, rearranging names, and finally getting it all straight, but in two months he'll ask me the same questions again and probably forget who's who. This older generation sits patiently and listens intently to the youth in this room. They hear the stories of my friends and smile and nod a lot. A cross generational divide is created, yet does not get in the way of the party atmosphere.
Sarak looks radiant in her Vietnamese top. She is smiling much and making everyone in the room feel welcome and happy. Our hosts fill glasses and provide delicious food that is easily consumed and rests comfortably in the bellies of all those who partake. All is smiles and talk and laugher here. But me, yeah, I'm standing around trying my best to be social. I'm certainly not the most sociable person; I don't like to speak too much, small talk drives me nuts, being put on the spot makes me want to vanish, and picture taking makes me feel ill at ease. But I'm here, and I'm trying, everyone around me confident and glowing (except maybe for our blank faced friend). Upon viewing a recently snapped Polaroid photo of myself I cringe. My balding head, and freckled, glasses-wearing long face looks pallid and disgusting in the photo. I'm very un-attractive and jealous of those around me who radiate a natural beauty. But I guess it really does not matter, I used to give a fuck, but it is a hopeless battle. I need to forget my anxieties and let the OCD just drift off tonight. Yeah, you know, I just laugh a little, shake my head and let my forced expressions and awkward movements propel me through this festive night. Self deprecating am I?? Whoa...who'd a fucking thunk???? Alright...rage on.