(A Random Post)

An Unfortunate Metaphor And Joyous Occasions

Yellow – Coldplay

I had this hankering to listen to the newest Coldplay CD recently and I had no idea why. To be perfectly frank, even though there’s some decent tunes on there the CD is pretty shit overall. It dawned upon me that what I really wanted was to listen to Parachutes again, an album I had not spun in quite some time. A couple of runs through a CD that is barely longer than 40 minutes and I was content.


Down: I got sick this week.

Up: I found the time to vote.

Down: I only made it home in time to vote because I skipped the last half of my six to nine class. The only reason I decided to do that was because I felt so sick that I could barely move. I made it home and to my couch somehow, but other than that I was damn near crippled. It could have been the fact that I ate somewhere besides McDonald’s for once, which caused my body to violently react in protest of change, or it could have been that I’m fucking exhausted. I imagine it’s the eating one though.

Down: Michelle ditched me on Monday. Flat out ditched me. We have a text message exchange that confirms that she will be at Sid’s Cafe from three to five. I go there at three. Not there. I wait a long time. She doesn’t show. I call her cell phone four times. No response. I find out on Tuesday night (!) that she and some others decided to go to Jimmy’s house to eat and she forgot to tell me.

Up: I had lunch with Angel on Wednesday. I have no idea why I do not do that more often. It’s in my head that because she’s not in school that she’s constantly busy, which isn’t entirely untrue. However, that is no excuse not to make an effort to at least call her and see what’s up. I eventually left a message on her machine (unfortunately motivated by my “I’m gay” revelation) and she got back to me and we met up and ate at this crepe place right next to the Harvey’s on Bloor. It was a small, family owned place and she made the point that we should support these businesses. She was right. The mushroom crepe I had was delicious and filling. I barely ate for three days after. Though that may have also had to do with the food poisoning.

We caught up on a lot of things and I was reminded how much more, I don’t know, authentic other people’s lives are. Like, while I’m worrying about whether some girl I sit next to in class has a boyfriend, other people are living on their own and having new dramas every day. That’s what it’s like talking with Angel, but God bless her she never, ever belittles the microscopic conflicts of my life. After that, we arbitrarily walked around and hit a bookstore and blah blah blah, but what really felt good was going to Innis library and sitting down for a minute. Well, for about three hours actually. She wasn’t feeling too well and I was recovering from my sickness still, so we were both exhausted. We wanted to do stuff together, but I think it was for the best that we both decided to relax for a second. “Relax for a second” turned into a nap that took up a considerable chunk of the afternoon and I have to say, it’s a special friend who you can take a nap with. I mean that. It helped that the particular area we were sitting in had the environmental consistency of the world’s most comfortable womb.

Up: I’ve been talking to Jess a lot more on the phone lately. Keeping it short, I will just say that her friendship is something I will never, ever, ever take for granted.

Up: I ran into Vincenza on Friday right in front of the Lesb…Women’s Bookstore. That was entirely unexpected, but welcomed. She was with these two guys who seemed to be a couple of cool cats (at least in small doses) and we sat around and talked and joked while we waited for the store to open. It was so nice to see her (and for her to see me) in a situation much more relaxed than a three hour Shakespeare lecture. Many karate jokes were made, obviously. I don’t think I swept her off her feet (ha!) or anything, but I’m glad that she got to see that I can be an alright dude to hang out with. Maybe we will do lunch.

Down: For the five hundredth FREAKING time the Women’s Bookstore didn’t have the book I was looking for in stock. And for the five hundredth and first time, I’ll have to go back there next week.

Up: Chronologically, this is out of place, but I wanted to save it for last, because…because. I’ve made a habit out of visiting Arlene’s place on Monday or Wednesday nights after my late night lectures are over. I’m usually mentally wasted after class and the prospect of waiting half an hour at Finch station for my YRT bus to arrive is not appealling. So I asked her if I could kill time at her place until I hit the station. She said yes and I’ve done it a couple of times now. There is nothing like sitting through a lecture, sitting in the same position for THREE HOURS, then oozing out of the class onto the street and somehow making it to a girl’s door and ringing the doorbell and seeing a pretty girl’s smiling face. She has such a wonderful smile.


I have not seen Michelle on a regular basis for almost a year now. At least it seems that long. I still remember first year when the only thing getting me in and out of the Toronto transit system was the knowledge or hope that I might be spending some time with her. There were other friends who kept me going of course and to them I am eternally thankful, but of all the new people that I met at the University of Toronto, she was by far the most important.

I’ve tried to make time for her. I’ve gone out of my way to hang out with her and “our mutual friends” who, as I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion, I can barely stand anymore. The last time it was just the two of us hanging out was at the beginning of the year, which spawned one of my more whimsical and, in retrospect, ill-fated posts. I imagined that my new schedule would make it so easy for us to get together but as it stands today, the exact opposite has happened. We have drifted.

Emotionally, she no longer needs me. I’m not sure that she ever did. I can say that there was that first year, where she was having doubts about her relationship with Danny, that she at least enjoyed my company. Whether it was my sense of humour or my rare moments of sensitivity and wisdom or my near unwavering understanding of all her boyfriend’s mistakes, there was something in me that she needed to be around. I was more than happy to accomodate. Especially considering that she was one of the only people who didn’t shun my many quirks. Everytime I brought something up that I thought would make her recoil and finally decide that I wasn’t worth her time, she would make that face of hers and I would feel like a prince.

Those days are long gone. It’s nobody’s fault. We don’t have any classes in common and we never lived anywhere near each other and she is the type to cling to the nearest male friend. That is to say, our friendship might have been one of convenience or even desperation considering that it blossomed in the hopeless prison that was Linguistics class. Last year, she assured me that I was still one of her closest friends when I, in a moment of great weakness, asked her if this new guy she met (Jon Tam, a decent fellow to be sure) was her new #1 male campus buddy. She promptly called me a fool and assured me that we were still cool.

Now I can’t blame her for hanging out with Chris. He’s better-looking, more fit, more confident, more overtly funny, less whiny…not like me in any way, let’s put it that way. He’s a lot easier to hang around with. It’s not like with me, where you don’t know if you’re getting the hysterical funny man or the mopey, sad sack Eeyore motherfucker that I tend to be. He has no quirks that one has to accept. He’s quirkless. Even better, he treats women like garbage, but everyone laughs about it because they’re not his girlfriend. It’s like she says, “He’s a great friend, but a terrible boyfriend.” No, Michelle, he sucks at both. Still, they share a bunch of classes and they’re within reasonable driving distance of each other so there you go. I’m out of the picture like that.

I’m not too upset with the situation, at least not yet. I have other, more reliable friends. She was always a bit of a flake. And she was never one to call you, you always had to go out of your way to find her. Despite all that, nothing will ever make me look back on our friendship bitterly. She was, is, a special person to me. I wonder now if my desire to hang out with her spawns not from the potentially good times we might enjoy, but from how brilliant we once were.

That’s the coward that left us to die!
I…was trying to lead the way. We needed a leader! Someone to lead the way to safety.
But you yelled, “Get out of my way!”
Because!…Because, as the leader…if I die…then all hope is lost! Who would lead? The clown? Instead of castigating me, you should all be thanking me. What kind of a topsy-turvy world do we live in, where, where heroes are cast as villains? Brave men as cowards?
But I saw you push the women and children out of the way in a mad panic! I saw you knock them down! And when you ran out, you left everyone behind!
Seemingly. Seemingly to the untrained eye, I can fully understand how you got that impression. What looked like pushing…what looked like knocking down…was a safety precaution! In a fire, you stay close to the ground, am I right? And when I ran out the door, I was not leaving anyone behind! Oh, quite the contrary! I risked my life making sure that exit was clear. Any other questions?
How do you live with yourself?
It’s not easy.



Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.



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