I wake up. Immediately I ask myself: "Did that actually happen?" This is a sure sign I have done Friday night justice. Last night I attended Brown's annual naked party, hosted by one of the co-operative houses. Having no real previous naked experience, I approached the affair with the vague suspicion that I might feel awkward and uncomfortable, but that I would learn a lot in the process. The whole affair blew my expectations away. I was naked, and so were a couple hundred Brown students, the lounge singer, the pianist, the house DJ, the people at the door, the people serving drinks--absolutely everyone on the premesis.
Yet somehow the whole situation felt strangely comfortable for me--the expectation of nakedness was so thoroughly infused in the atmosphere that the most awkward moments were being clothed and marching through the naked throngs on the way to the undressing room.

The party as a whole did not follow conventions that were different from clothed parties. In many ways, the scene was just like the scene at any party--any really, really good party at least--except that people weren't wearing clothes. The situation wasn't any more sexual. There's no reason why it should have been--difficulties taking off clothes isn't usually the driving factor behind whether people hook up or not. I think the unconventional and thoroughly absurd nature of the situation made people more friendly and festive, more determined to have a good time. Like at all the parties I have enjoyed, there was excellent live musical selection, good mixed company, and lots of dancing. I am thoroughly upset that I have to wait another year for the next one.
Also, a note: out of deference for my desire to attend and her desire not to see me naked, Jackie did not attend this year's naked party.
Tonight: study chem like a vandal and jam in the lounge?