Day 58
Today will go down in history as the matching umbrella day and the 321st day I was reminded that I am a loser.
Umbrella history: When I arrived in Vancouver I bought a super cheap obnoxious-red umbrella (red so I wouldn't lose it, or so nobody would steal it) and then I went to class and met Bill. Bill is one of those prissy, trendster white belt with tightish jeans sort of guys. We all thought he was gay. Anyway, turns out he's not, allegedly. Bill and I were walking with a group of students to the bar where a faculty member was going to teach us how to drink when I noticed Bill swinging a pink, purple, blue, and tan striped umbrella. I inquired to Bill about it and he said that he didn't really like it because he thought it made him look too girly. I confirmed this and made a deal to trade my shitty umbrella plus a couple of bucks in exchange. He agreed (probably because he was too afraid to say no and I wouldn't shut up about the girlyness factor). I clearly got the better end of the bargain as the next rainy day came along I saw Bill try to wrangle the bent metal spires of my umbrella closed, and failed. So, you can see I have some true umbrella pride not only did I swindle Bill but, I got a sturdy stylish umbrella with the super cool point-tip end to jab people with. (You still with me? That was pretty long and boring, huh?)
Anyway, so there I am under my prized umbrella tromping around in the rain today, all pissed off and what do I see? Well, tons of other people with umbrellas. I inventoried bowl-shaped umbrellas, Hello Kitty umbrellas, Lacy-umbrellas, matching ugly golf umbrellas, two people squeezed under a tiny travel umbrella (which was both funny and sad, but mostly funny) and then I saw it, the exact same umbrella as my Bill umbrella. It was like wearing the same cocktail dress to a small, elite social gathering, at least I think that's what it was like I don't really wear dressed or get invited to small, elite social gatherings. What am I gonna do now? Not only do I have to get a new umbrella, but I have to create a bigger swindle and backstory for my next umbrella. Goddamn bitch, didn't she realize she would ruin lives when she bought that umbrella at London Drug--wait a minute, maybe she swindled hers to. Hmm...
So, the 321st time I realized I was a loser (and that is just the tally from the past two months) happened today when I read a cute facebook post from my bodyguard inquiring if I was sick. (I had told him last night I was ill) Anyway, I wrote back instructing him to stop being so nice and concerned because it was making me feel guilty for picking on him all the time (which it was) and he wrote back something to the affect of, "Nice? That wasn't nice. You haven't seen nice yet, it would terrify you." I smiled, he's clever.
It's not like I am attracted to him or want to learn to be attracted to him but it was nice to be flirted with (if that was flirting, I'm gonna take it as flirting). Then later this evening I was milling around on facebook doing my usual stalk-through (for the millionth time, don't pretend like you don't know that's what the Internet was invented for) when I came upon another girl who was conversing with him on his wall and wouldn't you know he was going on and on with her saying cute-sy little things. This is all fine, I've told him to ask her out many times. But, it totally ruined the cuteness of my comment from him, what an insensitive ass. I wonder if I could get myself a life for cheap on craigslist or at least a cheap operation that puts a sensor in my brain for stopping me from making improper assumptions regarding facebook postings.
So, tonight we (5 girls and one straight guy) watched Love Actually in the TV room. The film itself was alright except it didn't end well for the office couple (what an idiot that woman was Carl was gorgeous). Anyway, the person we borrowed the movie from was in the room and all of the other girls went on this gushy tirade about how wonderful and beautiful Hugh Grant is. I looked at the screen and noticed for the first time ever, that his hair looks like total shit. It was all cut at funny angles and sort of poofed up in the front. I mentioned this to the others and I thought they would kill me and they probably would have except they were too busy watching Hugh Grant. Really, Liam Neeson was hotter.
So, anyway, we are watching the movie and the guy sitting next to me on my couch was what a friend has described to me as a 9 (on a scale of 1-10, if ten were impossibly hot). He was sitting really close. We could feel each others movements. I've never had a 9 come so voluntarily close to me. He nestled into the couch like it was extremely comfortable to be that close to me. He even laughed when I made silly comments. This would all have been like a fairy tale except that the woman he is seeing was sitting on the couch next to mine. I could feel his body next to mine, but I could also feel his eyes glance over to meet hers. As you can imagine this made it almost torturous to pay attention to the now goofy looking Hugh. After the anti-climactic Carl sex scene there really wasn't much gorgeous to watch. I never brought myself to look into my couchmate's eyes when he glanced over to his woman, maybe they were looking at me (yeah, I'm that self righteous). But, it's not like there is anything to be done about taken man. And, it's like my friend said, "9's date 9's." But, she never said what number I was...
-Canadian Castaway
So yesterday I got yelled at by the (Canadian) President for leading off a "contingent" from attending a lecture held at the residence hall which ended with the President telling me he was sorry for God knows what I'd stopped listening. And tonight, I got yelled at by a resident for being too loud in the hallway. The yeller was obviously Canadian because by the time all the words were exchanged she was apologzing for her interruption into our conversation. I wonder what it takes for Canadian's to NOT aplogize to you when they are reprimanding you. It's like they are ruining being naughty by taking away the badness in it, if there is a chance you get yelled at then your deed would be considered bad, but if you know you are gonna get bitched at and then apologized to then where's the badness? Things are so much more clear back home.
-Canadian Castaway
Also, it's okay to wear sweatpants everyday, right? And, it's not even frumpy if they have rhinestones right? Shit. I guess I just won't leave my room.
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