Many things happened in the last few days, including an outing on Thursday to the
Metro Lounge in downtown Montreal for a friend's birthday where, instead of giving gifts to the host, my friend David and I got presents, in exchange for a spanking on the ass (the guy giving out the gift bags that had briefs from Ginch and Gonch (I got
these ) apparently has a spanking fetish.
David was shocked as I asked for a pair of undies for
Miranda Bradshaw: "What if people think YOU will wear them now?"
I should be happy as this is the reading week at
UQAM, a week when reading is replaced by partying, going out and celebrating the week when you see none of your profs.
Montreal is also in a good mood, it's wonderfully sunny, no wind in the air, just beautiful.
But, I've been feeling down the last few days.
It all started on Friday with the brunch that I was to have with Jorge, the guy I mentioned in my previous entry as
"a new friend I made a couple of weeks ago". We went to Piz Pistol, which was filled with office workers, including a guy I'd met at a gay film festival a few months ago, who has been inviting me everywhere and anywhere. Now I know how it feels to be rejected...
Hmmm, well, the brunch would have been like any other brunch with friends, had Jorge not started asking me odd questions (for a friend, anyway), like "so, what's your type?" and "what do you look for in a guy?". I replied to all the questions and asked them back, but something changed in the way I looked at him now. He kept asking me things about my type, and then, at the end, he would look at me and say "but you're not looking for anyone, because you just want to make new friends, right?" (what I told him when he asked me what I was looking for, a couple of weeks ago).
I started to wonder whether he was asking me these questions for simple curiousity, conversation or whether he was interested in the essence of my answers. So, in doing that, as I listened to his answers, well thought-out, down-to-earth formulations that made me ponder hours later...The problem with me is, when I like someone, I get nervous...and when I get nervous, I talk a lot. So, I talked away all day...
I began to look at him as a potential date. I wondered what it would be like to go out for dinner together, go out to the movies, cuddle together, ...
Friday was strange for a number of reasons. Not only because I revealed to him that I would never tell a guy if I liked him (he asked: would you tell a guy you liked him, if you did?), but also because I told him all of my failures and silly moments in relationships past. See, when you're just friends with someone, you can say things you would say to someone you would date...But then, at the end of the day, I regretted having told him about all the pathetic points of previous relationships, my failures as a b/f, etc.
So it was supposed to be a brunch that should have lasted at most 2 hours. Guess how long we were out together, talking and window-shopping? 7 hours... and during all this time, I kept asking him if he had to go home, always getting a "no, man, i'm free, nothing to do..."
At the end of the day, he revealed he wasn't a big fan of shopping. I was floored, as most of the day, that's all we had done. So I looked at him and asked, "why didn't you tell me?" ... I don't remember what he said, but it was something along the lines of it not being an issue.
I had to get back to the residence to get ready to go out with friends to a shisha bar, so I told him I was going to get the metro and he said he, too, was going to go home. I wondered that night what that day was, and I still do...
On the weekend, I did a number of things, including destroying an 80-year old antique table at work by ironing my dress shirt on it while thinking of him and listening to Julie London sing "
Misty" ("walk my way, and a thousand violins begin to play").
Miranda Bradshaw (former Carrie Bradshaw of Montreal) and I had some mutual phone therapy by sharing each other's worries and hopes. She is great at consoling me, always suggesting alternatives. Somehow, she has become my confidante... :) ... She suggested I tell him how I felt.
I got the courage to call him yesterday to ask him if he wanted to go take some pics on the old port (he does photography, too) and I was going to ask him if he was up for a date, so I called, but all I got was the answering machine and his message in Torontonian English and an accented French. So I didn't hear from him...Now, it's 11 am and I haven't heard back from him ... So I get his point.
I took loads of pics, some of which are on this post. I also bought a new pair of all-stars, so my feet thank me...wee :)
I'm glad I'm going to
Ottawa to some meetings and to visit some close friends. It will be good to escape this whole silliness I've gotten myself into. Sometimes I wish I wasn't this complicated. I'm afraid of getting hurt by guys, but I hurt myself more this way, always unsure of what I'm getting myself into...
By the way, I didn't get fired for my little Julie London mishap. The manager was impressed by my "honesty" and said it was only an accident (wow, I wish everyone reacted like that to the destruction of an antique table worth thousands of dollars).
I don't know if I'm happy or sad about that. I wanted to have a break from the the ludicrous 11-hour shifts...Then again, getting fired IS embarrassing.
P.S: I used to hate this song, but while writing this entry, I couldn't stop myself from playing and replaying it.
Dido's "Do you have a little time?" ... Listen to it
hereI'm off to pack...
Labels: accident, Dido, journal de montreal, Julie London, men, mp3, photography
