(A Random Post)

There’s A Beach Boys Song For Every Girl I Know

Having A Blast – Green Day

It’s official. I’m not going to Vancouver. Everyone has been telling me that I need a vacation, but my life is a vacation. I mean, what do I need a vacation from? I’ll be honest with you. Sitting around all day, playing Playstation 2, listening to music and watching dating shows at two in the morning is not the most strenuous lifestyle. I don’t recommend it for anyone else, but I can tell you that the degree of difficulty in maintaining such a state is not high. I already talked to Annia about it and she’s got a pretty full plate anyway, so in a way it’s for the best if I just stay out of her way. I’ll visit her when she goes back to Guelph.

Dinner with Sarah on Monday was GREAT. You would think that went without saying, but the last time I went out to dinner with her it was a bit awkward. Perhaps uneven would be a better word for it. I remember I was being such a dick that day. I wasn’t looking forward to it too much, mainly because I’ve never been completely comfortable around Sarah. I figured that I would have dinner with her, because for some reason she wanted to, and then I’d never see her again and we’d all live happily ever after. But she got back from Scotland about a month or two ago and we’d been trying to set something up for a few weeks.

It went so much smoother this time. The fact that I wasn’t acting like a jerk definitely helped. I’ve learned to accept that for one reason or another, these amazing people I know occasionally choose to waste time with me and there’s nothing I can do but enjoy it and do my best to entertain them. They deserve more than that, but that’s all I’ve got.

The other reason I’m nervous around her is because she’s such a traditional girl. That is to say, she has old-fashioned expectations when it comes to what people should be doing with their lives. So I’m always afraid that she’ll be disappointed in the fact that I’ve achieved little since high school and that I don’t have any immediate, concrete goals. Bless her soul, I don’t think she’d ever be so judgemental, but the next time I see her I’m hoping I’ll have shown some progress. By her standards, anyway. And yes, I actually am looking forward to a next time. I realize more everyday that you don’t always get to choose who you hang out with or, fortunately for me, who wants to hang out with you.

Along those same lines, I spent all of Wednesday walking around with Shirley. I mean that as literally as I can. I walked to her house. We walked to the mall. We walked around the mall. We walked to the park. Back to my house. Back to her house. Then I went back to my house.

See? That’s a good time for me. This is what I’m talking about. What do I need a vacation for?

The adventure started in the early afternoon, due to our barbaric sleep schedules (I’m working on it, people). I really wanted to walk to the mall and amazingly so did Shirley. I’m not saying I didn’t think she could handle it, but almost everyone I know HATES walking. It’s just not an option for some people. We eventually made our way to the Best Buy where Shirley persisted in looking for a laptop with the “red nub” type mouse. She must be the only person on the planet who actually prefers that thing over other kinds of mice. You’d think I’d have become used to her quirks by now, but that was a new one.

After some more travelling (I’ll spare the details) we ended up at the park next to my house. I forget that the swings there are not made for adults. They pinch your hips like a son of a bitch. I woke up the next day and my sides were screaming. Never again, never again. I tried to vault myself off the swing a couple of times, but I didn’t get more than six inches off the ground, I swear. I robbed Shirley of the sight of my bony body flying through the air and shattering against the earth. I do feel badly for letting her down.

I should mention that somewhere in all this walking we stopped on a bridge and watched the world go by. We also talked about the trips we’d been on (me to Peru, her to Vietnam) and how different things were and how good we’ve got it here. That was kind of nice.

And yesterday? Korean BBQ with the boys! And for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel nauseous and gassy after going. Bonus! That’s the perfect capper to this post, I think.

Actually, this is the perfect capper: During dinner with Sarah, I got into one of my typical, self-deprecating rants. To snap me out of it, she began listing a few of my qualities, mentioning that I was “well-liked”. Huh? What?

Perspective is a crazy thing, yo.

One last thing…BRO RAPE!!!

So George, how do I beat this lie detector?
I’m sorry, Jerry I can’t help you.
Come on, you’ve got the gift. You’re the only one that can help me.
Jerry, I can’t. It’s like saying to Pavorotti, “Teach me to sing like you.”
All right, well I’ve got to go take this test. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Jerry, just remember. It’s not a lie… if you believe it.



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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