Yesterday, I got sucked into the wake of a large, ocean-going vessel of roommates and, with them, had a long, moveable afternoon and evening of dancing and drinks.
It started with Burning Man. One of my roommates—I have not some several—is going to Burning Man for the first time (while everyone else in SF seems to have been multiple) this year. Her camp was having a fundraiser to help pay for their expenses: you know, basic surviving in the desert for a week expenses.
That was the dancing and a little drinking. The music was typical Burner music: trance, techno, house, tech house and whatever other sub-sub-subgenres are out there now.
In back, there was a "silent disco" where people danced to music that was only audible through headphones. It keeps the noise down for the neighbors.
Finally, an hour later, we got back to the house only to have 30 minutes to get ready for our next adventure: Sunday Night Dinner.
The location was a house—not dissimilar in effect to our house—but different in execution. Instead of an old crack house, 12 tech hackers live in a full-blown mansion replete with basement bowling alley.
Every Sunday, they have dinner for the masses: generally tech folks who have been around the start-up scene for a while.
I met a number of interesting people and ran into people I've already met. It's a small world, and SF is a tiny corner of it.
And the food was all vegan (the potatoes might have been only vegetarian) and actually pretty good. I could live on that.
By the end of the evening, though, I was exhausted. It was a long time with the same group of people. I could feel us developing a hive mind and while I usually resist, it was fun to just go along with it.
But then when I got tired of it, I got really tired, really quickly.
I collapsed into my bed and dozed for a couple of hours before finally garnering the strength to "go to bed." And then slept really well—according to my sleep app.
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