Then I headed to Wilkinsburg for a party/benefit at Stacey's loft. It turned out to be not what she had planned or what anyone had expected. One band canceled and somebody called the cops about the noise when the other band played. But it was mostly a night for sitting out back and talking. Talking with Emily, and Elisa, and especially Lev, who used to work at The Co-op but who I hadn't seen in probably a couple of months now. It was good to reconnect. And it made me remember how much I loved parties like that -- parties where all you do all night is sit back and smoke cigarettes and talk with people that you kind of know but maybe don't really know all that well. We all shared our stories. These people that I work with, but whose lives I know so little about. One woman got run over by a car when she was 4 years old. It was a really intense story.
Unfortunately, now I'm mostly distracted by thinking about the drive home. I was behind this car, and they very randomly swerved, apparently for the sole purpose of hitting and knocking down one of those plastic construction sawhorses. Or at least I thought it was intentional. Because once we turned the corner and were on Baum Boulevard, they started swerving some more, only there was nothing apparently fun that I could see that they might be trying to hit. I was so glad when they finally turned off -- it's incredibly frustrating not knowing if you're behind someone who's just an idiot, or if you're behind someone who's totally fucking hammered. Either way they were idiots, and I was really fucking glad that I didn't end up having to swerve around a horrible fucking wreck.