Prom and Conversations I'll be a part of someday but not today

Okay... optimism is a fickle bitch and can't decide whether it's in abundance or a rarity. In my life, at least. So tonight, I write with an ambiguous "things are... things" kind of mentality. Not good. Not bad. Just things.

My friends Matt and Frank are throwing a birthday party prom for their 26th birthdays this Saturday. I'm all ABOUT this, as high school prom was a complete debacle in the majority of my remembrances, and a do-over is definitely in order. Plus, I'm not planning too far in advance. The planning is all-too-often where prom goes horribly awry-- expectations almost always blow the entire event out of proportion.

And another way this prom is already better than the first one-- I have a real date! I asked him over G-Chat and it's no big deal, but still, he's a real live guy-date*.

*Not that going to high school prom with Emily Roberson wasn't a slice of delightful. She was just a she.

In secondary news, today at work I was a part of a discussion that placed me in terrain so clearly out of my league. To explain-- a group of playwrights got together for bourbon and discussion. I happened to be working, sat down and joined in.

I spoke maybe three times over the course of two hours.

They talked about politics and playwrighting and theater and America and ALL THIS SHIT I'm CONSTANTLY thinking about. The difference being-- oh, I don't know, their legitimate status as playwrights? Their intimate knowledge of the topics we were discussing? The big, deliberately chosen words they used to express pertinent, edgy ideas? One of those.

So while I was overwhelmed and felt totally under-qualified to so much as express my opinion, it was huge just to be in the room. It was like hearing all my college professors get together over booze and shoot the shit. I'd be SO interested and listen with unwavering attention-- but I'd be scared out of my fucking mind.