It's only the real world

It's 2 am after a Saturday night spend celebrating my buddy E's birthday. I am tired, exhausted, ever-so-slightly-drunk and pretty happy.

I spent most of the day inside, and did some yard work later in the afternoon out front and eventually found my way to E's house at around 9. Guests had spent their afternoon playing ultimate frisbee; a fact that I was aware of and yet I chose not to go play because I was embarrassed about being the stockiest guy there. I can't run for shit right now I'm so out of shape.

Unfortunately, I missed out on the BBQ but I got to drink for a couple hours before we headed downtown to a bar in Kensington call Supermarket. There were quite a few people and the dance floor was packed, but that didn't stop me from dancing. You know, I don't really care how I look when I dance. I mean, I make a bit of an effort to look cool but ultimately it doesn't matter. White boiz are made fun of for being terrible at dancing (the stereotype is probably true) but I still think attempting to dance is better than standing awkwardly on the dance floor hoping a lady will be interested in something other than your non-existent dance moves.

So I danced, and it was nice. And eventually we sat at the table till the night wrapped up and Ev was nice enough to me and E a ride home, which rocked because taking the TTC home at 2 am is a pain in the ass.

So I finally spent a Saturday night somewhere exciting instead of at home on my computer again, like every other night for weeks and weeks now. It's not healthy to stay isolated and never meet anyone new like I've been doing for a while now. I mean, I didn't really get to know anyone, but at least there was some chatter. I guess alcohol helps. I had some apple cider and some bourbon. Probably gross, but oh well.

Open your eyes
Like I opened mine
It's only the real world.

I need to go to bed it's late.