Cavities

All Apologies – Nirvana

* I had to go to the dentist today to have some cavities filled. Three, to be exact. I was disappointed when I found out, because I thought I was doing a pretty good job with my teeth. I don’t mind having to endure a procedure like this though, because all they’re asking me to do is remain limp and numb. Two states that I am more than familiar with. I guess some people have a problem with the whole “pain” thing. But the pain you feel at the dentist is the best possible kind: Temporary.

* I went out with Alexia on Wednesday to pay her back for acting as my crutch when I was drunk a couple of weeks ago. I wouldn’t say that we “went out”, went out. We went to Eaton’s centre so I could buy my cousin a belated birthday present and do some light shopping. I was hoping we’d hit it off. Nothing. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a cool person but I definitely didn’t feel any spark. Not that she’s interested in me anyway. Regardless, I am getting to that point where I’m grabbing and clawing for anything I can reach. I think the whole thing is made even more depressing by this incident…

* Went to lunch with Tanya, David, Julius, Tanya’s brother and Tanya’s brother’s wife. This had awkward written all over it. Plus, I was tricked. I hadn’t seen J-Squared in a while and Jainy called me on Wednesday to have lunch so I thought it was just going to be her, Julius and I. But then Julius got dragged into lunch with Tanya and he tricked me into coming and…well, I was fucked. It wasn’t that bad. Her relatives were nice and I somehow managed to avoid making a complete ass out of myself. The only problem? G-dammit, I still have feelings for Tanya. I don’t think of her at all, but whenever I’m around her I cannot think of anthing else. What is my FUCKING problem? I think this is a topic for another post.

* I’d like to make an important distinction right now. I realized that I’m not someone who is truly depressed. I think a truly depressed person is someone who can barely get out of bed and who can’t muster up the strength to even feign being content (as I had to do on Friday). I’m not depressed. I’m unhappy. There’s a difference. I’m capable of experiencing brief, wonderful moments of joy and more importantly, I’m able to string those moments together over a period of a week or two weeks or even a month sometimes to keep myself going. It’s only when I can’t seem to keep it together that I make posts like this one.

* I honestly don’t want to hear anyone talking about Vince Carter’s off-court behaviour in a negative way anymore. At least not around me. You know why? Because none of you know what the fuck you’re talking about and I do. That’s why. I laughed when everyone got riled up about his “I don’t want to dunk anymore” comments. Forget the fact that he was playing like crap on the court, let’s criticize him for a pithy, throw-away comment that he made when he clearly didn’t want to talk to the media. If you want to criticize his play, criticize his play, but leave the man alone when it comes to how he handles interviews because frankly, the man does not know how to deal with the press. Oh yeah, and fuck Dave Feschuk.

* My grades seem to be improving. Whoopee! Just trying to end on a high note.

I mean how could he do that? Who does he think he is? That–That–

Motherfucker?

Featherstone–!

It’s still just a word, Hoover. It always will be. You get stressed and you say asshole or cocksucker or motherfucker, and they’re all just words. The world doesn’t end when you’ve uttered them aloud. But you feel a tiny, tiny bit better, if only because you know that saying those words is the one freedom you’ll always have.