I was hit on by a stripper...

Yesterday, I decided to surprise my friend Robert by going to his New Year's bash, replete with an open bar (all I had was orange juice, ok?), awesome food which I think Robert cooked all of, the entire Maryland gay black population, and an exotic dancer (which I knew nothing about until he walked past us).

Anyways, it was pretty good fun except I only knew a handful of people there so I had to do the whole mingling-to-meet thing (which is not really that fun to me as much as it is awkward).

Well, Robert was minister of music at my home church before Jamie, who was minister of music before me. So, most of the people I knew there were musicians because I know them through Robert and/ or Jamie. I met one lady who I had seen once before at a church (she was the organist at the time, and I was playing for my choir that was visiting) who happened to have been interested in the music minister position at my church, but some wires got crossed and we were waiting for her and vice versa. Well, kind of glad that happened because she's pretty bitter about the whole thing, blaming it on the church (as if we purposefully ignored her without having met her) and angrily refusing to come in for a rehearsal to watch the ministry in action.

I told Jeff this yesterday, and I tell you too: there are alot of bitter people in the music business/ministry/industry. Don't become one, don't be affected by any.

Anyways, went upstairs and the stripper is sitting across from me. His friend starts a conversation between us because he's too timid (A TIMID STRIPPER -- that defies the stereotype). Anyways, we talk and I debate with his friend about Vanderbilt being better than Drexel at Chemical Engineering (the guy wasn't sharp on his Drexel facts, just adamant). And nothing really happened aside from being hit on, I just thought it's a pretty cool accomplishment (whether you agree with exotic dancing or not) to be hit on by the center of attention, among all the available people in the room.

Afterward, I went to Allison's house again and spent some time with friends watching the Stewie Griffin movie and the 40-year-old virgin, which are oddly alike. Brian and Kadri were oddly adamant about trying to start a game of "never have I ever" which never really materialized.

I've figured out that I'd like to interpose Whitman poems subjecting his sexuality and scriptures of ambiguous (and a few obvious) gay references. I'll discuss more on that later.