I've had so much that I've wanted to type about but I haven't and here's why: I often write blogs at work because there's next to no supervision and it's a good chunk of time when my mind doesn't need to be focused on something. I wrote one two weeks ago as a follow up to my whole I-wanna-do-Katimavik thing but the damn e-mail service won't let me send it. Extremely frustrating. Whatever, I'll get it sooner or later.
Big news: my Israel girlfriend who lives in Calgary announced that she will be visiting/staying with me over the 17-20th of February, after which far too many bodily fluids were ejaculated due to my shocked delight. To properly justify our relationship, let me say this: we're the same person, 'cept she's all hotter and can pull off yellow. To illustrate this point, let me tell you a tale of our trip to Israel. First some back story: we actually only started talking on about the third day of the ten we were there and it was a very different bond as generally when I find a girl to befriend intimately we usually spend every waking minute together before she heads back to Vancouver, Montreal, etc. (Wow, I'm like the straightest 'mo ever...k, maybe not after that statement.) However with her and I, I always felt there was this very delicate balance. Like, you know how when you're on a first date and the conversation is going so amazingly that you kinda just want to go home so you can say that it was amazing before you run out of conversation? It was kinda like that. We gave each other tons of space but it was known that we were a couple, platonic as it was.
Now on to the "we're the same" point: I think it was day 8 that we were on the bus and having a very intense conversation about her older, wealthy Armenian boyfriend. She said something funny like, "At least he'd good in the sack, " and I replied, "Hey, well at least you got something out of it," and then without even looking at each other or acknowledging that we were done and without noticing the other was doing the exact same thing, rolled over and went to sleep. half an hour later we both woke up, looked at each other and peed ourselves laughing. I'm not sure if that really makes sense now, but it was très amusant at the time.
The Ubiquitous U and I stayed up to 1 am last Sunday looking at old yearbooks and photos from high school, which normally would be kinda sad and indicative of the dated nature of the relationship were this not the first time we had done this since high school. So it was fun. It conjures up so many memories and emotions it's indescribable and it's unreal how many people we have been since those days. I can honestly say, I don't think I've ever been more at peace than I am right now. A DOM (Dirty OldMan) was hitting on me the other day on msn and when I shockingly informed him that I had no desire to see his 'pad' as I was perfectly fine by myself, he made some comment about how sad it was that I had the winter blues and that I should cheer up and come over. Granted, he was trying to get in my pants but it still shows that people have this notion that if you are by yourself, you're lonely and that really isn't the case. Learning how to be happy on your own is one of the best things you can do for yourself. But back to high school...
I fell in love at age 15, and not stupid teen love, but like I Would Give My Life For Yours infatuation. It was so sick, made more so by the fact that he never knew. Well, perhaps that's not true. He might have known, but I never told him and it as never discussed. We had this kinda messed up relationship where we would never talk and then once every year or so we would have a huge heart to heart on a school trip or something. Lasted until I was 18, even though I practically hated him at the end for having made me go through three years of torment. I've seen him a couple times since high school with mutual friends and we barely acknowledge the others existence, which leads me to think he knew and that's just to tragic for words. Naturally he played a very prominent role in our trip down Memory Lane because of course, like any good stalker would, I tried to fit him into as many pictures as possible. I was taking out a flick from Movie Village when I glanced to my right and there he was, looking nothing like he did at 15 and yet sadly gorgeous in this faux-hippie-lost-little-boy kinda boy (no one did lost little boy like this kid). We said our "Hey"s and our empty "How's it going?"s and then before it got awkward I just looked away, signed my receipt and left.
It never really goes away, does it?