Fleekin Floygn

Yesterday started out as the best day ever. I went to a couple classes, during which I spent most of my time sitting on my ass, not really thinking. Then J and I went and undulated in the sickness that is Foody Goody. Kids, it's worth it alone for the ice cream bar; there's 16 different types of hard ice cream! Having completely stuffed ourselves, we went to the village to do some errands: I got some new buttons for my bag including one that I'm kinda nervous about (it's black with a big red stop sign that says "STOP...using Jesus as an excuse for your narrow-minded bigotry"), and I made U the world's best custom-made shirt EVER with a gold insignia of David Bowie circa Ziggy Stardust. Then we sat outside on a patio for an hour and laughed hysterically.
In the evening I got together with U and gave her the shirt, which she loved (SO glad). Best person to give presents to ever. We proceeded to Second Cup where I noticed a boy named K that I went to lunch with once this summer. We got along just fine, but despite his considerable intelligence, there was a snarkiness and a Desire-esque pretty-boy quality which kinda didn't do it for me, so I didn't really pursue it and he obviously didn't feel a strong connection as he didn't really follow it either. We still chat every once and a while and whatever, it's all good. Now, we momentarily locked eyes when U and I were in line but I was on the phone, and then afterwards when he walked by and I said "Hey, how's it going?" and he kept walking, I'm just going to assume that he thought I was talking to someone else. Whatever. Not a big deal, out we went to sit on the patio.

U and I spend an uprorious hour outside and as we get up, who should come strolling down the street than Mr. The-Oddest-Non-Date-Of-My-Life (scroll down a couple months), who in the end turned out to be rather cheesy and flakey. It was clearly too late to ignore him so we both tersely said hello in a fake-friendly way, inquiring as to the other one's summer, etc. "Oh, I love Montreal," he said, having been told I had been there, "but I'm meeting someone inside, so I've gotta go."

Oh, you know they were totally meeting each other.

And you know that somehow, in my sick little mind, I had been envisioning this EXACT situation for months now. It seems so perfect: two pretty, snarky, young, generic guys meeting at a generic location for generic conversation mostly concerning their fake Armani belts and occasionally attempting pseudo-intellectualism. It's moment like this that I just really feel the urge to look heavenly and I say, "Um, are you fucking kidding me?!"

After that I decided to go home and watch Before Sunset, hoping beyond hope that it's duelling cynicism and idealism about modern love would convince me that I was destined for something far greater than cookie-cutter homo boys in their fake leather jackets from Le Chateau Warehouse, that I was destined for a far more grandiose, real suede from Winner's life.

It only kind of helped. I fell asleep in bed with my clothes on. I'm not sure why. I've never done it before. I guess it just seemed like in that moment of lying in bed, I didn't want to remove any more layers, lest they correspond to emotional layers à la "Ogres are like onions".

In any case, I woke up with one hell of a wedgie.