Dog Days Are Over

It's only recently that I've become aware of the social anxiety I get when random groups of people are thrown together. I feel ultimately responsible for everyone's well being, and hope people are getting along and talking to each other. It really has nothing to do with me, most of the time, but I can't help but feel anxious when I'm not sure of the chemistry. Sometimes I'd like to leave a camera behind to observe what happens when I leave the room. Where does the conversation go when I'm not there to turn it toward something I enjoy talking about -- or something that I think they'd enjoy talking about? Can a conversation be unaffected by me if I'm just there and not talking? Or does simply observing change everything? Quantum social mixing, is that something people can study?

Tonight I met up with Mary, who's back from Khartoum but about to head back there soon. We had plans to finally live in the same city in 2011, but apparently her U.N. work will take her away again. For now we're in the same situation, both of us underemployed and free to take our days anywhere. We've reached this point from opposite directions. Or rather I've been at this place for awhile and she's passing through. Mary's twenties took her from studio art, to Taiwan radio jockey, to Princeton grad school, to way overseas in countries I know nothing about and can't really spell, much less pronounce. My twenties were mostly spent shuffling side to side, apparently waiting for Mary to return to useless days space. Now we're in New York for one brief week together.

Being an absolute tech-loser, she had a little Moleskin that was packed with scrimpy writing about the things and places she wanted to go. On that list was eating Momofuku David Chang's favorite meal -- hand pulled noodles from Koreatown -- and on my way to meet her I ran into someone I actually knew, randomly on a street corner. That has never really happened before to me in the city. The chance meeting of two people in a city of eight million seems mathematically improbable but it apparently happens quite a bit. I'm excited for more of these moments. "Hey, what're you doing here?!"

Having more acquaintances would increase those opportunities exponentially I'm sure. I'll be working on that.

The other thing we did tonight was to go watch Brian's stand up show. He hosts a monthly Asian showcase and I haven't seen him perform since he lived in LA. In my opinion, nothing's more intimidating than standing on stage with ten minutes of open time and an expectant crowd. Most of the comedians were great but some were so awkward time practically stopped. It ain't easy being funny. When they say that you have to "win over the crowd," you really have to do that, and usually within the first thirty seconds. The energy you bring to the stage sets the tone in the room so quickly. Come out weak and people lose interest and it's hard to pull them back.

Years ago, when my friend was trying to do the musician thing, we'd go to a lot of his open mikes and performances. Most of the time I'd stand in back and watch the crowd for signs of impatience or irritation. My stomach would tie up in knots as I got nervous for them. Once the crowd settled in, or bobbed their head along to the music, I'd finally be able to relax, even as I kept a running list of things to improve and critique. I'd be such a bad stage parent.