014: There's a hole in my neighbourhood down which of late I cannot help but fall

A couple weeks later I was back at the online dating thing, a fact I alluded to in my previous entry. I'm a quitter who doesn't actually know when to quit, apparently.

At some point in my travels I got in contact with this sympathetic lady in her late 30's trying to feed me the reassuring lines. Now, sometimes I'm okay, but I usually react badly to attempts to reassure me because, well, I don't have the highest opinion of myself and I don't see any of these attempts as justified or properly informed.

So let me tell you about this second girl I ended up meeting. I was trying to frame it as something casual, and she was, in theory, up for it, but we got into a situation where our "not really a date" (complete with "you don't have to pay for my ticket, I'll pay you back") became just that. The idea, naive as it may seem, was that we were just going to meet up and mess around a bit and not behave as though it were a date. However, every attempt we made at breaking out of the date paradigm hit a brick wall. Ideally we would've just done it at the privacy of one of our houses, but her clever idea was to go to the movies, sit in the back, and if it didn't go well, at least we'd have the movie. Then it turned out a lot of people still wanted to see X-Men First Class a month into its run. The theater filled up and she got skittish as fuck. I got thrown off my game, couldn't get comfortable and as nice as I tried to be, I guess I just... wasn't that mythical "best version of myself."

I stole a kiss goodnight and took a cab home and woke up the next morning wondering what fucking right I had to ask anybody into my life, for a commitment or otherwise. I live like a fucking asshole. Nobody wants that. And that's the truth lurking underneath the entire ordeal, which is hat I'm convinced I'm totally unworthy of another person's affection. I didn't really realize the date went badly until I asked for another and was met with that all-too-convenient non-reply, the standard rejection for the internet age.

The next night was Marti's birthday. I went out to Toronto to meet up with her and Rosi and her half-dozen or so other friends I barely know. We ended up at this guy, Jordan's house, and just when I was feeling awkward enough to leave we started playing this board game, Quelf. It was pretty fun and I was getting into it, but it meant I had to crash there the night. So I gave in, got more drunk, on liquor, which made me handsy. I hope Marti didn't mind. Truthfully, she did well at keeping me from going too far.

I woke up the next morning around 8:15 and hurried to the next train. Luckily, we were at Front St only a few blocks from the station. Only Rosie was awake to wave goodbye. My plan was to catch a nap before starting work at 1, but as I rode the bus from the station home, I got a text from Chantelle saying Kyle had called in sick, so would I mind coming in whenever? Roll of the eyes. Sure, let's do this.

It was a pretty chill day, we played Mix CDs all day. When I described the recent events of my life, she asked "What is going on with you, man?" I said maybe it was a mid-life crisis, she said maybe it was an epiphany.

Not much has happened since. Another school paper, done two days late, although this one was less of an ordeal. What's done is done. Yesterday I got my wisdom teeth out. It hasn't been as much of a fun-filled drug vacation as I'd hoped, but to some degree at least I've been hanging out in my room zonked out. The soft food diet has made me pretty queasy though.

That's... the long and short of it I guess. I have little motivation to keep talking. Whatever, I'm lame.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto