So, the big Scorpio Party was about how I expected. A long day, replete with several logistical difficulties. Strong turnout, although not necessarily by previous Scorpio Party standards. Too many bands, but we knew that going in. And what, by most accounts, was a good, strong set by Nitrous Foxide. I know I felt pretty good about my own playing, and I dug in pretty hard. Mostly because I didn't have much (read: anything) in the way of monitoring, and in that sort of situation, I have a nasty tendency to beat the shit out of the drums. I had joked with Stephan from Naked Oil Twister that I was going to play the most physically demanding songs in the set as calmly and serenely as possible, a la Charlie Watts or Bun E. Carlos, but that didn't happen. Partially due to the illusory need for volume, and partially because there were people in the audience upon whom I wanted to make an impression.

Yes, there were women at the party. Lots of 'em. I could tell because I wasn't trying hard to meet any, and still did. It wound up being a bit of a microcosm of my social life in one concise evening, I think. There was one long-term infatuation who seemed a little more agreeable than in the past. There was one somewhat random meeting in a line for the bathroom that could have perhaps provided short-term gratification if I had wanted to expend the effort. And then there was a kindred soul, someone who had to be there and didn't really know anybody. I'm not going to speculate further on any of this right now, specifically, but I felt good about the night overall, and this week will hopefully give more substance to some of those good feelings.

From good feelings to other, not bad, but not glamorous feelings. Namely soreness and some buyer's remorse. The Chicago Fire are switching equipment providers, from Nike to Puma, and one of the results of this was that the team held a sale for season ticket holders and some other invitees where they liquidated as much of the old Nike gear as they could. I managed to stay pretty close to $100, with a cool rainjacket and a new Fire jersey to replace the one with the burn hole in it, but I had to struggle with the expense. Then, afterwards, I learned how to curse in Polish as we had a bit of a scrimmage on the field of Cardinal Stadium that was supposed to be the Fire Ultras versus the Fire front office, but wound up mostly being an Ultras thing with a couple of hangers-on. Some of those guys can really play. I wasn't terrible, but most of my game involved forcing guys to carry the ball into my fellow defenders, so while I contributed, I didn't get many touches myself. And man, I'm feeling it this morning. I'll be lucky if I leave the house today, but that's par for the course on Mondays.