Cancelled

Our game was cancelled, halfway through our roadtrip. So we all earned an afternoon.

Mine was spent at the gym, and ran into McGill there in a surprisingly non-awkward exchange of that night's goings-on and various other small-talking technicalities. I win, I was running when he came back in, later learning he had intended to inform me that he would be bringing my replacement (or rather, my hierarchically superior replacement) to the party. Fine.

I actually managed to swing it all really well, and not even planned that way. He stayed on one side of the room, while I was immersed in dancing the night away. The first time he caught my eye was across the bar, as a genuinely good looking boy bought me a drink. Our five minute conversation ended when I turned to walk away, and I was later informed that his eyes and attention roamed from his date all evening. Points for power baby.

Which brought around today's conversation about why I still insist upon him even though I find him dull and immature. Its the 'Change a Man' phenomenon: the situation that arises when one is attracted to someone who has essential character flaws because of those flaws, and the desire to see these flaws melt away/be removed as a result of his love for you. Translation: why girls like assholes. Ahhh, I really do need to start making a list of all this.

My lightbulb is burnt out, which is really irritating as I can't seem to figure out how to change it. No I'm not stupid, its these damn English fixtures. Bastards.

Also, for the first time in a very long time, I am on a huge Dave Matthews kick, HUGE. I can't explain it, I just really like it all of a sudden. It fits this cold, dreary weather, this strange emotional place I am in, the lonliness of things at the moment in every sensation being strange and familiar and old and new and as inexplicably pained as they are joyous.

That is all.

From top to bottom...

Tuesday I was on top of pretty much everything except academics, something I've become quite accustomed to around here, so basically I was on top. Spent a great afternoon with one of my fellow defensemen, chatting and losing track of time, then wandered home. Spent the evening being lavished with the best of all possible attentions, and had a nice early night full of sleep.

Today is Thursday and I've toppled, of my own volition. Having slept through class because I was up late last night lamenting my weaknesses and taking control of things. I told him I felt that I wasn't worth dating, he denied it, and I believed him. I know that somewhere in his head I'm a point of light, just as he is in mine, but that its not bright enough. So we both wander off to seek other things, but invariably come back to each other as the brightest lights in this particular sky. That's fine. Its just when the seeking comes back to bite me in the ass that things take a bad turn. So I ended things as they stood, preferring to take power now and be the one in control rather than let him finish it when he decided it was done. And I do believe that it was good, and that sooner rather than later there will be another night of flirting and watching me, of begging and feigned anger, of emails late at night asking for one more try. So I wait, and consider the implications, and know that when them come I will likely succumb, having failed to find a brighter light.

Quite a Heavy Weekend...

It really has been ages since I posted, oops. Life sortof ran away with me this week, I don't even remember what I've been up to. Seriously.

Thursday I received a bit of a nasty jolt, as one of my best friends refused to buy a ticket to my varsity match. Trying to shake off the sensation of being misunderstood and disregarded, I was helped along by a blank valentine's card in my pidge. Strange. And still a mystery.

Friday rolled around as usual, with cooking and wine and disappearing into the night. It was a slow one, and I'd wished that I'd left the wine at home, ending up with nothing but a stagger home with the standard yellow container under my arm, wishing I'd left that on the roadside as well.

Our game was endlessly frustrating, and despite my best efforts I can't shake the feeling that I should be doing more: its hard to play with partners who aren't as good as your old one. Speaking of, she's back in town today, which is very nice and great to see her back to somewhat of her normal self. Anyways, post-game we went out. As you do. And DPG does have puck bunny tendencies despite her refusal to admit it, and was coaxed out not by me, but by a strong statement on the part of the men's team that they would be joining us. So out we went.

Rule. No tequila. Right. Needless to say I got home at 4:30 in the morning, after having to coax my way out of a foreign college and into the predawn birdsong. Waking up at eight or so, probably still drunk, I sent out some apologies into the world. They have all been accepted, some with more convincing than others, and I had to make a house-call to get the last one pushed through. And I can never go back to the Catz MCR ever again.

Tonight, after a day at work and running errands, and a disastrous loss to Finland, I'm taking myself to bed nice and early, my alarm is set for 9 and I intend to get up and make the most of my day.

Happy V-Day

Ah V-Day, I've never quite been comfortable with it, but then the whole romance thing throws me a total loop. And no that's not just because I'm single. I really really don't like it. This V-Day is different though, because I'm going to a gay-bar with my friends. As long as they don't pick up and leave me I think its going to be an amazing night. I'm inventing a dessert and everything. Its all about the unintended romance.

Sunday we steamrolled a team. Its not a pretty sight, but after having it done to you, you sortof have to go with it. 12-1, I managed a goal and an assist, our line combining for at least six goals. Things all really came together for us, and Varsity is starting to look a little less worrying. It felt really good, so good, for the team to come together like that... not to mention the sheer relief I felt after several games with good scoring chances and nothing to show for it, to finally see the motion in the back of the net. Backhand too, it was awesome. Last night at practice I remarked how nice it was to actually say to our goalie 'so where do you want it' and to put it there every time. Aim is a good thing. Now if I could just figure out how to do it under pressure... Regardless, I really missed this, and wherever I end up I'm going to try to play. Not that any team will be as great as the one I'm on right now.

So I'm here, writing a presentation that I have to give in just under three hours (no problem, I'll finish writing by one, have lunch, review it a few times as I powerpoint it, then head down to Sainsbury's on my way to class, its all under control) and stopping, like I usually do, to write here instead. I still can't seem to bring myself to do much, a lack of deadlines and shallow reading lists is making it all very difficult to motivate myself. Tomorrow I keep intending to spend the day at the library working on a paper topic, I've got a few ideas now and if I could pull something together by the end of the day it would be fantastic.

I'm starting to wonder about this apathy, its odd that I can't pinpoint causes within myself, and wonder if a sense of unfulfillment is just due to my academic deficiency or something deeper than that. I am sure it will pass once the ball gets rolling again and I stop feeling like such a deadbeat wastebag. Right now I'm debating if the pains in my body mean I shouldn't go to circuits tonight, and debating whether that just makes me the ultimate slacker, so whether I should go for a run and do some weights instead. Slacker.

Basck to my presentation... happy love day.

When it rains...

It pours. Indeed, although I may actually have the worst luck. Ever.

So I won the mini post-date-power-struggle when a text message beeped up on my phone while I was at the library. Practicing my new ninja skills, I ignored it and went home. Showered, replied, ran some errands and found my way down there a few hours later.

"What are we doing here" after I stole a kiss, shamelessly, and that was okay. The answer was that I didn't know, but that I had decided on the way down that he wasn't worth giving up being single for. The latter thought I kept to myself, turned it on its head to flatter him, and ended up with more than I had expected. An agreement was negotiated, the best of all worlds, and I told him in no uncertain terms that as long as he respected the rules things would be fine. The big one is his womanizing, which is to be held when we're out together. As Noel said, its perfect, and he pessimistically said that perfect things generally don't stay that way. I agreed, but hoped that this would last long enough to be worthwhile.

Vowing to save the 'man-izing' for another night, three ladies and their gentleman friend moved out into the night. He saw me at the bar and came over, remembering my friends and casually moving in beside me. And so I wandered back over and chatted with them all, he was the perfect gentleman. One arm around me, followed the rules perfectly, and kissed me on the mouth when we wandered out. Perfect.

Finally we stumbled down underground, scene of many good evenings and generally self-controlled ones. She laughed and said the abbreviated name sounded like STD, and damned if she would go somewhere with a name like that, so we called in full and headed in. One drink and the night picked up, dropped me next to last Saturday's amazing, knee-weakening kiss, and suddenly I was lost. I couldn't resist him, and to my extreme surprise, something... sparked. We talked, and I begged off and danced, then found him again and talked more. My luck swung like a pendulum.

Girlfriend, overseas, hasn't called in weeks? Thinks he is being dumped? What did I hear over thumping bass and one more beer? That he couldn't stop kissing me. That he wanted to know about my tattoo in a realistic sense, rather than just asking because he felt like he should. That I have his email address writ large from my wrist to my shoulder. That he wouldn't let me go, even after the lights came up and the morning pulled us all home. So now, now I am lucky to have found this spark, and unlucky to have such bad timing. I will be lucky to have a drink with him on Wednesday, and unlucky if she rings. So I will wash the ink from my body and type him a message, and cross my fingers, hoping that for this little moment fate will smile my way.

Well, THAT was depressing

It began with so much promise, and ended without fulfilling any of it. If I could depict the night graphically it would have been a tornado shaped evening, beginning with me at the top, swirling around clutching a bottle of champagne, and ending by spitting me out the bottom, battered and confused, into my bed. I should have left when the others did.

The beautiful man from Saturday didn't show, which was a bummer, and Lo there was ass-making in front of the young and beautiful man, at the hands of said champagne bottle. And now I'm thinking I need to find alternate plans for Friday night to avoid further ass-making at my own hands.

And what was with the non-date? It looked like a date, it felt like a date most of the time, and lord if that hug goodnight felt like a more-than-friends hug. And what was with his friend asking me where he was, as if there was something to say, as if I would know where his evening had taken him. And how quickly I bit off my own tongue to prevent myself from asking him to come out, asking his friend to invite him to come out, from texting him and saying how there was no line.

I need to re-jig this, to reorient everything, but I can't. Every time I try it all just comes apart. And I'm left with this, unable to concentrate or to focus, feeling washed out or washed up or just plain washed. And on that note I have a very long day to start.

Its the Dingoes I swear...

Okay so today was long, six hours of class interrupted by a visit to my unwell friend, I'm exhausted. Hockey practice left me buzzing until 3:30, and five hours of sleep is not enough. Not enough. So tonight I'm going to bed about now (its 11:15, hopefully I'll be asleep by midnight) and getting up early (for me, early is anytime before 9:00) and going to the gym, followed by a successful day of 'Getting my Presentation Done' so I can enjoy a pity-party (emphasis on the party) with some ladies.

Just a bit of a quote moment, in the context of a train: Bittertown, Aloneville, Hermit Junction... seems like I'm getting there pretty damn fast, next stop: Hermit Junction.

Speaking of, have sent two emails out into the vast internet maze (three if you count one to my girlfriend about tomorrow night's plans) and have not received anything back. Damn Internet Dingoes, release my responses from your evil clutches! Stay your scratchy hands! Re-sheath your little claws and let my life progress. Cruel, malicious Dingoes! You bastards! Its your fault my inbox is empty. All your fault!

Okay, sleep would be good about now.

T.S. Eliot

I read Eliot at work today, wondering why it had been so long since I enjoyed poetry. Because if I were studying it I wouldn't enjoy it, and because I'm not studying it I have no time to read it. Instead, I have time to write here while I'm supposed to be reading about food. That's fine.

I've spent the past hour at the library, read next to nothing, debated using my ninja skills to procure sex from a beautiful man and decided against it, and sunk back into feeling rather wretched about things. Reading seems to be doing that to me.

Compulsive phone and email checking is not helping matters.

At this point I think the SSL is a lost cause, so I'm going to slip off to home and back to work tonight.

Come to me now and lay your hands over me
Even if its a lie, say it will be alright
And I shall believe.
Broken in two and I know you're on to me
That I only come home, when I'm so all alone
But I do believe
That not everything is gonna be the way you think it oughta be
It seems like every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me
Please say honestly you won't give up on me
And I shall believe
Open the door and show me your face tonight,
I know its true, no one heals me like you
And you hold the key
Never again will I turn away from you
I'm so happy tonight, but you love is alright
And I do believe
That not everything is gonna be the way you think it oughta be
It seems like every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me
Please say honestly you won't give up on me
And I shall believe.

- Sheryl Crow, I Shall Believe

So where was I...

... ah yes, the madness of the past week. Well on Wednesday my friend who bumped her head took a turn for the worst, and so Thursday was spent worrying and visiting hospital until she was released. Thursday night was spent at training and Friday was spent having my hair all cut off and debating the merits of the haircut. To be honest, now, if I can learn to style it properly, I really like it. After making dinner for the girls, DPG and I dressed up to go out. I remember feeling ominous about it all. Like the night would only end in tears.

Turns out I was partly right. Predictions of McGill's head exploding turned out to be somewhat accurate, and I couldn't bring myself to reconcile the man beside me with my immense enjoyment of shameless drunken flirting. Which should have been my first tip-off. By the time the night wound to an end, I was feeling distinct discomfort and the exploding head had turned into going home with my best friend (unbeknownst to me of course). So when I awoke the next morning, things could only go downhill.

She sounded like she was outside, and she was. Ten minutes and she was at my door, wearing her dress and high heels, and apologies fell from her mouth. I couldn't help myself, the sick feeling sunk deep into my gut and I had to tell her how hurt and upset I was. It is all okay, I know its okay, but I was so angry. I somehow still have feelings for him after all the madness, the late-night texts and mind-losing. Saturday was going to be a rough day. Generally bad in general.

My friend got worse. Instead of reading all day I spent it at her bedside, and as she drifted away from lucidity and I became more and more frightened, we all kicked into high gear. I ran errands while DPG drove her back to emergency, and then I rushed back towards home to comfort another friend who was having a bad go of things. I needed a drink, so the lovely J-Man took me out for some mind-numbing alcohol. Whee.

And that was a Night, of all things, as I lined up coffee with McGill and flirted shamelessly with Gravity, pretty certain that things were rolling along nicely. Suddenly I turned around, and there he was. Too Cool for School, who I'd met at an exchange dinner so long ago and who had pointedly ignored me at all our later meetings. I tapped his arm, expecting that to be it, but apparently he'd drunk enough that I had become appealing (either that or it was the haircut that did it). I spent the next twenty minutes trying to avoid letting him kiss me, not very successfully, and hoping that Gravity wasn't in eyeshot. Not much luck on that front I'm afraid. And it was hot. In fact, my drunken logic struck again and I decided not to pursue him home, even though I woke up and wondered why I'd done that, especially since I have no way to get in touch with him and potentially ruined my chances with Gravity in the process. Ah the madness. I'm hoping he's playing a 3-day game and that I will get an email, but more likely is he misplaced my email address and woke up with no recollection of the event. At least his blonde and charming friend might remember me informing him of his Pushy friend, and offer up his phone, complete with my number.

Ahhhh the madness indeed. Spent the day at the library trying to keep things sane, with a brief interlude to deliver some bad news. Then off to see McGill and try to work things out, leaving with nothing but confusion after the Longest and Nicest Hug of my life. All the balls are external to me now, so I've nothing to do but wait. Whew. So much work to do tomorrow it is not even funny.

Crazy

Ok, I know, its been a while. But things have been crazy. Not even good crazy (but some good crazy), really really bad crazy.

First things first though, I cut all my hair off... not bald, but shorter than its been in ages. I think I like it... once I buy a proper brush and figure out what to do with it.

And I don't even have time to write about the madness because I have to go do an unpleasant thing in a few minutes, and I have to go sign books out beforehand.

Wish me luck.

Academics? What's that?

A nice quote from yesterday:
"So I had a sexual fantasy about you..."
"So? I have sexual fantasies about you all the time!"
"No... I mean I had one about you today."
"Oh. Well thanks!"

I realize that I never talk about school, about academics in the academic sense. About how sometimes I sit and think about what we're being told, and other times I zone out to sexual fantasies about beautiful people. About how for every second there is a horrendous waste of my time, there is another, or several more, which are utterly fascinating. Yes I'm a geek, but yesterday just wished I could sit and think about all of this forever. And while permanent academia is appealing... well its perhaps the lifestyle I enjoy more.

Today, well today is one of the other kinds of days, I'm stuck here with a handful of articles, an hour before my group meeting, and half a page of notes. Not really acceptable I know. And writing! God forbid.

We've been having team snafus. Big ones. I won't lie to anybody about my involvment, inciting dissent and whatnot, but honestly I've tried to stand aside. The problems just seem to be compounding and with Varsity in a little over a month, I must admit its panicky. I'm panicky, and feeling fairly stressed with most aspects of life at the moment, this isn't helping.

Yesterday was, again, full. I wont' bore you with details, but the end of it was both disappointing and strangely uplifting at once. Disappointing because my open window seems to be closing, although that's not what went down on Saturday night. I should just let it lie, especially because I don't know if I should just slam the damn thing shut. Enough with the metaphors. Sorry. It was the music, later, and what a sucker I am for all of that junk, when I mentally decided I wanted to take him home. Alas, nothing was to come of it, and instead of being insulted I danced around like a fool some more ('Dancing in a way which endangers myself and others') and took myself home an hour later than I'd intended, having had two drinks more than I'd intended, ringing my oldest friend to say hello.

Its the drinking ban thing that's getting to me, after this Friday I am weaning myself off. Should save some money if nothing else. Oh but Friday... well, its not like we plan the Gong Show evenings, but I have a suspicion that I won't make it to London on Saturday due to madness and hangovers.