On pork-induced stomach aches and avoiding people

Last night was spent at O's apartment for one of his typical apartment parties - 80% architects, 20% other designer people/artists, a large group of gays. As always it was fun, although probably not so much for Hemingway, since people didn't speak all that much English and mostly talked about insider stuff. I feel bad in situations like that, and I want to check up on him and make sure he's having fun too, but you can only do so much I guess. I asked him if he was terribly bored and he said no, so that's good at least. After a while we all debated going to a gay bar, but the line was long and the entrance fee expensive, so we gave up on it and went to Debaser instead, where we danced to some questionable music and generally had a good time. Probably mixed a bit too many different types of alcohol though, because even though I didn't drink that much I woke up feeling spectacularly queasy.
At Debaser I ran into an old classmate from high school (and also Architecture school), who was acting like a total flirt, hugging me (more than once) and touching my hair and stuff. Before I left he even leaned in to give me a kiss (which I deflected by letting him kiss my cheek instead, but shit, who does that?). I mean, it was weird and all, but at the same time I take it as a pretty big compliment when someone who's walked the runways of Milan thinks you're pretty. Obviously not interested though, but still. Thanks for the ego boost.

Today was language payback time, with a farewell barbeque for one of Hemingway's friends who was moving back to Hong Kong. I feel really shy and self-conscious as always, and it's not helped by the fact that I'm on one side surrounded by people who speak Cantonese, and on the other side surrounded by people speaking Mandarin. Hemingway's friend probably thought I looked extremely uncomfortable, because he felt the need to tell me that they were all 'civilized people' who wouldn't eat me. "Just go mingle around!" Yeah, uh, no. I don't mind people speaking a language I don't understand - I like just sitting there listening, especially to Cantonese, but I was pretty damn happy when Y showed up and kept me company for a bit so I didn't feel so... I don't know, weird.

...and sometimes it's just nice to not talk too.

I ate a delicious Hong Kong pork dish, which after almost 8 years of hardly eating meat at all backfired spectacularly, and will lead to some pretty horrific stomach pain tonight. Curse their delicious cooking.

I just don't want to be the whiny girlfriend who wants to be included in everything and wants everyone to conform to her standards or whatever. I can totally relate to the fact that speaking your mother tongue in a foreign country is nice, and that you might want to not babysit your girlfriend all the time, but I can't help the fact that I'm painfully shy and that I really don't take well to 'just mingling', because after the awkward small talk there's normally just nothing there to go on, and it's just tense.

Anywho, I was supposed to go with Hemingway to another of his friends' birthday party, but with the impending stomach ache and also, as Pony said: "You've only just started to be able to function again. Do too much and you'll be in bed the day after tomorrow sobbing uncontrollably. I know from experience." so I'm spending the evening in, cuddling my duvet and playing Bioshock. I feel bad for not going along, because I tend to feel like I'm supposed to be social, or that I'm supposed to like meeting new people, and I genuinely like spending time with Hemingway, but two parties in one day with a whole bunch of totally unknown people is just not something I can handle very well, or even want to handle very well. It's just not my thing.