treating weekdays like the weekend

I overheard one of the older girls in the house yesterday say that this night was the best night of all of her Freshman Fall Quarter, and I think that she might just be right. Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of fun nights, but this was on a whole other level.

What made this night so much greater, I think, was that we are all becoming more comfortable with one another. That the "I love you's" that get shouted across the hallways are beginning to take root and really mean something. I have this fear in large crowds about losing the person who I came there with, more of a fear of them leaving without me. I don't like to be left alone in places where I'm not familiar, and while I realize that this is a completely rational thing to be worried about, it often causes me extreme anxiety in these situations and I become fixated on making sure I can see whomever I feel the need to keep an eye on which causes me to not be present in the moment at whatever event I may be at. Concerts are the perfect breeding ground for this personalized anxiety.

But what made me realize that this night was absolutely profound, was the fact that I wasn't worried. Sure, at the beginning, before everyone really got there, before the lights turned off, I was frozen in my place, keeping a good watch on who I needed to watch, and praying that the friend on my right wouldn't leave my side. But once things got going, and Louis Futon (later Louis the Child) came on stage, I realized that I was surrounded by not only people, but my people, our people. KD's everywhere. I became overwhelmingly aware that I didn't have to stay attached to one person because I had all of these people, and they weren't going anywhere.

I danced with my friends, danced by myself, danced next to the random girl who called me sexy and kissed me on the cheek. (Also shoutout to that girl for her probable drug-induced confidence, and to all those who witnessed my confusion over the whole deal.)

My TKE twin told me that my first EDM concert would change my life, and I can probably say that it did. But while it wasn't solely the music and the lights (those helped though, don't get me wrong), it was one of the few nights in recent memory when I truly, honestly allowed myself to have fun. And that euphoria is something I hope to see again real soon, as I tackle this (slight sliver of) social anxiety and let myself experience the joys of this life chapter.