the musings of an Ivy League student in the American Metropolis
on the topic that Bboy A and I got together on the day that Big D and I were “planning” to get married.
Emo-tastic A: You’ve got like, some kind of weird obsession with 8, eh?
Me: Yeah, I guess.
A: Is it like some kind of food fetish? Like, the past tense of eat?
M: Or oral sex.
So I just got off skype with Emo-tastic A… after talking to him for waaaaaay too long. -___-”
And I was all pensive and shit about crap that is way too complicated.
(Talking to my past has that effect on me sometimes. Damnit.)
And I’m kind of freaking out because I have so much work to do tomorrow it’s unreal.
Fuck. What am I doing?
I learned tonight that I’m not completely over Big D, that he was some kind of big shot in high school, that he was the better looking of us two… It’s not that I’d want to get back together with him… at this point, it’s hardly possible and it would be so destructive for me. But maybe I just miss our physicality? The way we connected? Will it get better between me and Bboy A? Was it ever this… awkward… or… whatever this is with Big D?
Bboy A told me that he missed me over the phone today, and even though I missed him a lot today, I just couldn’t say it. I tell him all the time, though text messages, e-mails… but putting it into words is a lot harder than either of those. Maybe it’ll remind me too much of the sweet words between me and Big D… I stared at Bboy A’s lips the last time we made out, from the nose down, he looks exactly like Big D… maybe all boys do. Making out with Bboy A is messy, jarred, and at times… too urgent. Maybe I just need to give it time. But, do I like him enough to give us that luxury?
Long distance relationships bite. One-sided relationships suck even more. Thanks, Big D.
I had a recurring date with Emo-tastic A today. Since I’ve gotten back, we’ve been getting together fairly often to have smoothies, play Wii and watch awesome movies (ie. the Lives of Others). And today, Shopping-loving M was in the neighbourhood (actually in the neighbourhood, and not the strange stalking excuse) so she dropped by as well. It worked out well because since last Friday, my parents have been suspicious of A and me being together alone… which is probably a left-over instinct from my days with Big D and completely unfounded. But nevertheless, having another female presence makes things easier.
After the requisite Wii games (Mario Party 8!) and movie (The Emperor’s New Groove!), A went back home, leaving M and I to our own devices. Naturally, we wanted to cook. Baba ganoush. And a Melon Mousseline. The baba ganoush was something I’ve seen on TLC’s Take Home Chef (Aussie cook == hot sex) and felt right as I had an eggplant in the house. The Melon Mousseline… well, because I have about 4 watermelons in the basement.
End results: delicious baba ganoush (as with many dishes, it just needed a bit more salt), 4 hours of chatting with M about life, love and relationships (it was pretty much like an Oprah show with a bit of Gossip Girl), and a Mousseline that wasn’t quite mouse.
I’ve discovered that I’m not such a great cook. But hey, I just need some practice right? When I get my own place… which is just next academic year really, when I’ll live in an LLC suite, I’m seriously thinking of hosting a day-long party, every month, just to get friends to come over to talk, to cook, and of course, to eat. ALL DAY LONG. (You’re jealous already, aren’t you?)
Montreal reeks of Big D and me. We spent many a good times here, and it’s impossible to go through a day in the city without thinking “I remember when D and I did [this] here.” I think one of the things I miss most is just… doing things. Little things, routine things, everything together. We were a weird couple like that: joined at the hip and never sick of each other. It was really interesting because I could always count on him to be free to go do something strange or outrageous with me. Or just something low-key like cook breakfast together and enjoy a good meal.
I was supposed to have a brunch get-together with S, C, and Emo-tastic A today. I hadn’t seen S and C since winter break, and I really wanted to catch up on things and ask them about their impending South Asia backpacking trip. So, like the eager-beaver nerd that I am, I went to pick up groceries and drew up a brunch “menu” for us to enjoy. Well, turns out that they all have shifts in the early afternoon and none of them realized that I was pretty far (public transit-wise) from their work places. (Although I did specifically ask if C would have prefered a brunch at a restaurant closer to her workplace). In any case, it got me kind of down. And kind of wishing Big D was still here. He’d come, and we would have a blast making kiwi-blueberry-mango, yogurt-less smoothies.
In the beginning God distilled the universe, essentially as we now know it, from what was there before.
For existence was without restraint or void; and everything everywhere existed all at the same time. And the Spirit of God looked at it and was confused.
And God said, Let there be less: and there was less of it all.
And God saw the diminishment, and saw that it was good: and God divided it further towards nothingness.
And God called the emptiness Space, and the shrinking mass of everything he called Matter. And he forewent sleep to further reduce the unholy mass of Matter, on the first Night.
And God said, Let there be a, and he searched for the right word, a planet or two. And because he was God, the number of existing planets dropped from infinity to somewhere in the hundreds of billions.
And God by that point had had enough of the flying green monkeys with Oakland Raiders baseball caps circa 1983, and their Nerf footballs, and so he did away with them entirely.
And God similarly thought the heliotrope colour of most of the nothing he had created was kind of gauche, so he replaced it with an understated, inky blackness.
And God said, Let the water planet, that one right there under the second-hairiest knuckle on my ring finger, have land as well: and it was so.
And God called the dry land Earth; and, confusingly, he called the planet as a whole the same thing: but God saw that it was good enough, so he went about his work.
And God said, Let the Earth be separated from everything else in the universe by several million miles of empty space: and it was mostly so.
At this point God took a semester off to go clearing up the outer reaches of the universe. He banned alien prostitution and anyone from a Douglas Adams book: and God saw that it was good.
And God was too busy making the Queen from those Sigourney Weaver Alien movies disappear from even the most vestigial memories of anything that ever lived to notice that the evening and the morning were the third day.
And at some point before noon, God said, Those disco balls up in the sky are really tacky. You know what would be better? Little fire pits. And in trying to create fire pits he accidentally doubled the number of existing suns, but he got rid of all the infernal disco balls.
And he saw that half of Earth was very well lit as it orbited around the nearest sun, but the other half was depressing and dangerous for women to walk around late at night. So he collected all the streetlamps in the universe and put them on Earth.
And while God was doing this, he accidentally pooped out the Moon. And God saw that it reflected light from the sun, and helped to further illuminate the dark side of the Earth, and God thought it was sort of romantic. So it stayed.
And God called the sun the Sun, and the moon the Moon and he instructed them to sit,
And to rule over the day and over the night, and to provide muses for poetasters: and God saw that it was good.
And God ordered pizza and stayed in to watch Any Given Sunday, and after falling asleep on his paisley couch, the evening and the morning were the fourth day.
And God said, Let the waters frikkin’ drown all the abominations that are churning it up right now, and that goes for all the creepy flying shit, although he had already gotten rid of the creepy flying monkeys. And it was so.
And God created Great Britain, and Wales, and more or less created the continental arrangement that we have now from the utter chaos and ridiculousness of what was there already.
And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and rainy, and fill the earth of the Earth, and then remembered that he hadn’t selected a chosen species really yet.
And the evening and the morning were the fifth day, while he pondered.
And God said, Let the earth bring forth the best and most kick-ass dudes it has. And those were men, and a few butch lesbians.
And God made friends for the first time, and they all got together to chill and listen to Floyd, and God banished all the other species remotely like mankind in the rest of the universe into nothingness.
And God said, Let us make man mostly look like us, so he won’t get jealous of my chiseled features: and let them have dominion over all remaining creatures on the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth under the rugs.
So God invited man down to this sweet garden party; male and female he invited them.
And when they came, God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and tap the shit out of the keg, and don’t forget the weed: and everybody had a great time. It of course helped that God had hand-chosen the soundtrack, though. I mean pretty much everybody loves Bob Marley.
And God said, Behold, I have given you dro, and honey-garlic chicken wings, and Orange Crush mixed with Irish Cream, not to mention Braveheart, and, like, Hot Fuzz, which means you should all be chill and nice to me.
And every bro and dame on the earth was all like, “Yea, yea.” But it didn’t work out. Eventually God’s inherent prickish nature drove a wedge between him and his lookalike cult members. So man continued on in God’s footsteps and abolished God himself, along with several hundred of the worst episodes of Will & Grace, and the notion that getting syphilis was cool just because Bach had it.
And man saw the world minus every thing that he and God had jointly gotten rid of, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.
The seventh day was, appropriately, March 14th, so all the guys with lady-friends got steaks and blowjobs, and all the single guys teamed up to chisel Pi and its infinite digits out of Ayer’s Rock in Australia.
On the eighth day, everyone slept in, except Julius Caesar
- Emo-tastic A.
I spoke to Emo-tastic A for 3 hours last night. It was nothing short of amazing, and strange too, since we hadn’t spoken for a really long time… not to mention the fact that he and I drifted apart during CEGEP.
He recalled how CEGEP was the happiest he had ever been; new friends, two girlfriends in two years. I thought about my CEGEP years too, and yeah, it was pretty sweet. I have a feeling that I have such hopeful hindsight. My high school days were spent thinking how happy I was in elementary, my CEGEP days were for thinking about good ol’ HS years…
We played over an hour of memory games online, singing half the time, laughing for the rest. I was a lot worse than he was (because he essentially has no life outside the internet) and we spent a lot of the time with him giving me hints for the answer…
me: What’s south of South Dakota?
him: It’s… like Alaska… but… with shadows…
me: um… Shadowska?!
him: No, not shadows… darker?
me: Darka…!?
him: Wow… I think you were closer with Shadowska… Think of an animal with stripes in Africa, except the first letter is sideways.
me: … leopard?
him: OK, I said STRIPES and AFRICA, not spots and South America.
me: Okok… zebra… Nebraska!
Yeah, we’re awesome that way. Turns out, I’m going to be e-mail buddies with him… whenever I feel like telling Big D something, I’ll just e-mail A instead.
