L: Let gravity do its work

SWP: The talking cure.

I don't know what it is about me that keeps my priorities out of whack. Things that should honestly depress and bother me (as they would normal people) tend not to affect me as much as minute bullshit. I place so much emphasis on problems of a very inconsequential nature (in the grander scheme) while larger, more metaphysical issues, I let pass.

The Buddhists say, only fools are constrained by time and space. I'm still not sure whether I am. If I dreamed last night (feels like I did) I can't remember it.

Before the weekend I found out the extent of my Granddad's illness. It's not the sort of thing that has much of a positive outlook. Dad and Deb went up to North Bay over the weekend to see him. Sunday (I assume they had returned at this point) dad sent a bizarre e-mail noting not only how gaunt Granddad looked, but also the food they were serving him wasn't appetizing whether you had an appetite or not, and that true to his nature, Granddad would rather people not force small talk on him. Every Christmas since forever, dad has us call there and say thanks and make small talk, and I can tell he's as impatient with it as we are. A few weeks ago, after the dinner we were supposed to have gone to with him, Dad suggested we each send him an e-mail saying what we were up to. I didn't, knowing that nothing interesting was going on in my life, and we're due to go to North Bay only a few weeks from now anyway. That was when I thought we were still on an unlimited timescale. Now I don't know.

I have a hard time explaining my thoughts on the subject to others. My detachment about the subject seems very callous in comparison to the solemn attitude other take, and I don't feel right playing solemn, and I'm not sure Granddad would want me to. I'm not sure - maybe he would. Whether he goes in a week or a month, I love him and will miss him and I want everyone to know (obviously, else I wouldn't be saying it here like this.) It's just hard to articulate on the matter.

Today was a fairly unremarkable day. I got up and went to school. Lear in lecture. I feel like I know that play back to front now, although the lectures are to some degree quite stimulating. Skipped CanLit after handing in essay. Down at the front of the class I ran into the other girl who presented last Friday. She smiled and made some friendly remark about me being done early (I had mentioned it to her when it came out we were in the same CanLit class too.) I hadn't so much as peeked at the essay since writing it. Probably could've used the opportunity, but didn't want to burden my mind after the mental burnout I felt last week. Let's just rip this band aid.

I don't know why I fixate on every girl who makes small talk with me. It's a big school, you sometimes find yourself conversing. My thoughts tend to drift between a myriad of girls I see at school - some of whom I've spoken to, some not - and the various ones online, the ones I end up finding have a habit of being far away or otherwise unavailable. There was an odd incident last week where I answered a Craigslist ad for the first in in a while. Get write-up, mostly about her philosophy of living and what she wanted. I sent a vague response illustrating how I might fit the bill. She send a pic with a suggestion of MSN. I send a pic back with my MSN address, as well as a stupid joke about how good her picture looks (and really, it was startlingly good) and how I still don't trust people to be who they say they are. She never responded, even to a follow-up sent a week later.

I mentioned this to Manda, late in our last meetup, and we came up with a few possible conclusions. In no particular ranking:

-She found me unattractive
-My letters went to spam folder
-She thought my joke was stupid, or it made her paranoid
-My joke unwittingly exposed her as a fraud (wouldn't be surprising considering how too-good-to-be-true her ad was.)
-Lastly, she met someone more interesting, and forgot about me.

Well whatever. The thing I've learned over the last 3 1/2 or 4 years is that women come and go, and for any multitude of reasons. The trick I can't seem to master is making them stay for even a little while.

I hung around campus longer than usual today. Had to get a copy of Timothy Garton Ash's The File, which has thus far proven to be a surprisingly decent read. I usually tear through nonfiction a lot easier than other stuff. Whether something historical like Devil in the White City, a memoir like this, or somewhere in between like On the Road. Maybe I should've at least tried to read Homage to Catalonia. So in all this book-getting, I got a later train. Waiting at Union I started up the Metro Sudoku, but had to go before I was done it. When I took my usual seat, I saw girl doing that same Sudoku (not odd in and of itself.) My eyes kept shifting over to her as the train kept a'rollin. She was a quiet-looking mousy girl. Cute, with an uncharacteristic nose piercing, a nondescript stud. Glasses. Thin. Quiet brown eyes. I kept stealing glances until I realized who she reminded me of - whose visage she invoked despite the eyewear and miscoloured eyes. Oh how your memory lingers.

Well whatever. A quiet day. An unquiet mind.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto