2003-01-02 || 8:40 a.m.

|| two-aught-two to two-aught-three. ||

awright. new year's eve: crossing the bay in an underground train stuffed with morrissey look-alikes (1), gentlemen in powder-blue suits (4), silly string assaulters (2), intoxicated revellers (48), upset old people (12), my sweet posse (5: me. owen. michael. jamie. daniel.). marching down mission street with a cigar and bottle of champagne. meeting up with old old friends at the house on alabama street. standing in cold out front because a and c said the rooms smelled like sweat, no, sex. hypothesis that it was the electroclash kids because apparently they smell. gangs and gangs of very attractive kids on bikes, hats cocked and eyes shiny and cigarette smoke billowing from mouths, circling and circling and swooping in to chain their bikes to the closest tree. champagne and champagne and whiskey from a flask and cigarettes. then midnight: champagne and champagne and fireworks that went off in my hand. posing on lambrettas and getting yelled at to get off. marking up jamie's back with blue ink. dancing in a kitchen to omd with several lovelies. getting to stand in a circle out front with old tight bros o and m and cass and jason, wow. more firecrackers and booze and more sitting down, holding head to keep from spinning a bit. a bit more dancing. empty champagne bottle thrown in the recycling bin. walking back toward mission. the boys and their 'battle raps'... daniel is personal bidniz. owen is easter egg. daniel's prized rap: (something like:) 'picking up an obscure portland reference/too bad shitty goth is jamie's music preference.' i can't remember owen's prized rap, but it most likely ended with 'what? you work in a candy store?' (see, it's funny because daniel does work in a candy store.) and. getting back on bart, post-boozin, with jamie's shirts twisted on his head like a turban. bloodshot eyes and sore feet. j getting hit on by scary post-new year's lady despite turban/marked up arms and chest/continual references to his 'invisible space pills.'

walking through the streets of oakland, weary and nauseous and really having to go pee, trying to figure out how to get home. happy new year happy new year.

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