enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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super-shitheadedness 101

So let me preface this entry by stating that when I was younger I was frequently a moron. Unfortunately, let's face it, I'm still a moron-- of the kind who has squandered her potential. On the other hand, I am no longer a moron in ways that involve waiting around for even more moronic men to call, or, more importantly, in a way that ends up trampling on the feelings of other people.

Now that that's out of the way, I'll tell you what happened to me this morning.

I'm currently waiting for the cable guy to come and hook up my high speed. (I know, I know; more Internet access is just what I need. Anyhow.) So I thought I was being clever in getting up at 7, walking out to the hip street at the end of my block ('E' street), and buying a coffee at Bridg3head and a Globe at the next-door convenience store.

As I approached Bridg3head, I had the feeling that someone was looking at me. Sure enough, as I entered the coffee shop, the guy in the very front table facing the door averted his gaze. He clearly did not want me to recognize or talk to him; always a great start to the morning. (He was was working on a laptop, which behaviour I heartily disapprove of on an early Saturday morning in a cool coffee shop (relax, people! :)), so my nose was less out of joint from this reception than it should have been.)

OK. So very quickly I realized that he was the guy from the room across the hall in university residence. I haven't seen him in at least--let's be kind--15 years. You know, the guy across the hall whom you cry your eyes out to about guys, study with late at night, but never think to date?

Yeah, that one. You know, the kind of guy who looked vaguely like his grandfather already at the age of 18.

God I was a superficial prick of a chick back then.

I even used to bake him cookies, oblivious that he...liked me. Duh.

So the thing is that he had an end of year formal. I, unfortunately, had been dumped recently by a basketball jock who was also in his program. I should NOT HAVE SHOWN MY FACE AT THAT FORMAL.

Are you surprised to find out that I went to that formal, got drunk, and spent the later part of the evening crying in the washroom?

No, no you are not. I hope you hate me for it.

So my plan is this: When I see him again I am going to approach him and apologize. He clearly lives in my 'hood. Today this was impossible. As I turned from buying my coffee at the counter a woman--clearly a colleague or a fellow student of some kind--had returned from the washroom and joined him in discussing something on his laptop.

Anyhow. Goodness I loathe myself sometimes.

After leaving the coffee shop, on the other hand, three different strangers on the street wished me a good morning. (Could they sense something?) A homeless man, too, said, "Good morning, smiley. Have a great day. Today you need to thank the Lord that you are alive for another day."

I gave him lots of cash for saying that.

Is my new neighbourhood now jinxed by the ghost of my past shitheadedness? Or do the three happy greetings cancel it out?

(Why am I getting the disturbing feeling with this entry that watching back episodes of S3x and the C!ty this year at school only did me harm? Out damn voice, out! I must descend further into the pop culture abyss, however, to say that I remain convinced that Miranda's character almost perfectly approximates my personality. No tv for me this year. Books only. It's a books only house. Actually, it's a work only house. I need to apply myself. For real.)

8:15 a.m. - 2006-09-02

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