I just feel like saying, "c'mon, darlin', take a look at yourself in the mirror. Silly, isn't it?" Maybe the government should make some kind of law obliging super-clubs and warehouse parties to hang huge mirrors all over their walls, so senior clubbers (those cretins who got stuck in the 90's) who spend their nights out rolling their eyes with a dimwit smile glued to their faces should realise the extent of their stupidity in public.
Or maybe not. People like this would probably think it's funny and say they never had such a good time.
Do I sound like an old snobbish and disdainful granny? Oh well, maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just immensely relieved that I've been through this phase while I was still young enough to look cute while behaving like the silly teenager I was. Not like the silly teenager I wish I was. Sometimes it's good to grow-up.
The other thing I've concluded after 3 very long hours inside that club was that I should, indeed, be immensely proud of who I am. Instead of constantly biting my nails because no one wants to hang out with me because I'm neurotic and obsessed (that's my head working 24/7), I've actually realised that it's ME WHO DOESN'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH THEM. How can I, when most people around me (and by that I mean the shitloads of Brazilians who populate this enormous city - excluding a tiny smart percentage, which I'm proud to be friends with) are such ignorants in... how can I say... everything? The only way I can have fun around them is by sitting in a corner with a drink observing the ridiculousness of their gatherings - which I actually enjoy, because it provides material for my whinings. I definitely need a new crowd, new surroundings.