The original plan for last night was to play the Mariokart Drinking Game over here, but since that didn't really work for anyone involved, I ended up going to a party at Dylan's new, very nice place in Oakdale.

I almost didn't go when I couldn't find anyone willing to come along and protect me from all the strangers, but I quickly realized that I'm an introvert, not an agoraphobic, and that I'd played more than enough Mercenaries already. So I fought the night's lazy inertia and left — the sense-of-self epiphany saves the day yet again.

Matt's basement is a complete time sink; I need to set the clock on the DVR.

The party was low key, a sort of "soft opening" before Dylan's actual housewarming party later this month. We sat around with a bunch of people I think I'd met before (including one guy who goes by his initials, and is therefore presumably a famous essayist), played the 99 drinking game, watched the fire, and moved to Wii bowling when the night was winding down.

Good times. And nostalgia, since U of M parties tend to be closer to what we did at Lawrence than the Hamlinite get-togethers I'm used to.

Apropos of the comments on my post below, I should note that Dylan and I talked about nothing in particular, which seems to be the general thrust of our conversations over the last six or seven years. We're prettymuch geniuses at picking up where we left off.