The world is pretty in pink…plus…sometimes it even sparkles

Ebb and Flow

It all started on Tuesday evening…with the knowledge of Jacques and the girl I had befriended who had been dating. Ya. I threw up a little too. What followed was a 24 hour rip tide that ebbed and flowed in any direction.

At the end of it all.

I’m not sure exactly how I feel about everything. Nonetheless, here’s the story.

So. I found out about Jacques and the girl at the sailing club with whom he is dating. They don’t show it at the club. But I am smarter than they give me credit for. PLUS she’s all “I dunno what’s what with him and I” and I’m all…WHY AM I SITTING HERE LISTENING TO THIS. I can’t be that girl.

But I need to start at the beginning of this 24 hour shit show.

Tuesday night is racing night. I couldn’t find someone to race with so I hunkered down on the patio. (Best patio in Vancouver). And by chance, my friend (SSC)from Sudbury ended up being in town for Tuesday night only and she came to the club to join me for dinner.  By the time she joined me, it was 8pm and the racers were coming off the water.

This included the new girl and the rescue crew – inc. Jacques and a myriad of others.

SSC met the new girl. She didn’t like the new girl.

Later returning to my car, I saw new girl and Jacques talking in the parking lot. She basically raced out after he had left the patio. And as I saw them chatting. I got angry.

Angry at myself that I was letting this get to me. Things that I cannot control. Mad at myself for letting myself open up to him and her at different times when obviously that was a mistake. Pissed that I still don’t know how to pick decent friends sometimes.

Thank god I was with SSC. She and I had a fantastic gab session until 1am at my place. Not just about me and my lil world, but about life and love and work and all those things. Hate that she lives so far away. But on the flip side, our time together is much more meaningful when we do get it.

Continuing with the flow, after less than 5 hours sleep. Go to work. Where I did some google searching about tooth pain and came to the conclusion I needed to see a dentist as I suspected I have a bottom wisdom tooth  coming in and it was becoming infected.  So i took off work at noon and departed for the dentist.

Since I had time, I figured I would run an errand. During the running of the errand. GUESS, who I ran in to? JUST EFFING GUESS?

FilmGuy.

YES. FILMGUY!

Which was civil. It was fine. He’s now directing. He’s now making $3500 a week. He now can afford things. He seems calmer and more at ease with life. I still feel he blamed me for holding him back which is absurd. He’s still with his new girl. I’m glad.

That was the longest 20 mins of my day.

3.5 hours later.

It was determined that sometime during the late 80s/early 90s that a dentist removed my adult 3rd molar to make room for “new teeth” coming in. After the full mouth x-ray, the “new teeth” turned out to be my wisdom teeth.  Apparently this practice was the “thing to do” by dentists out of California and a lot of BC dentists apparently adopted the now defunct idea of removing molars for wisdom teeth.

I now need to find a new dentist who can remove the bottom teeth. Preferably without the need for surgery.

By the time I got home, I was beat. Exhausted. Mentally. I had a nap. Couldn’t even bring myself to open emails or attempt to do some work.

An hour later. I zoned out playing beach volleyball and just played. Didn’t think about anything else. Just hit the ball, passed the ball, set the ball on repeat.

Then went home to bed. WHERE the NEW GIRL was texting me. And I don’t reveal me. I just respond to her. This is a fine line. I don’t want to throw wrenches into the works because I see her almost every weekend. But I can’t remain close with her. Just not sitting right. Detour required. Major detour required.

I finally rested at midnight. Where I stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep thinking about the ebb and flow of the last 24 hours.

Somehow there’s drama because I care. I care about people. I care how I’m treated and how I treat others. It irritates me to no end when that consideration is not reciprocated.  However, with the full knowledge that I can’t do anything about it. And possibly that is what frustrates me the most. I can only control how I behave or how I process things. That is logical thinking. That’s how I am trying to be. Finding my zen if you will.

But the Gemini side of me wants to light Jacques boat on fire and write bad reviews for every film/tv show FilmGuy gets to direct.

Ebb and Flow.

I’m from the milkyway

This summer has been fantastic for the most part.

I’m sailing mostly and playing beach volleyball and have met new people and have been able to to hang out with old.

It’s been fabulous.

For the most part.

Then I figured it out. The past four weeks. I’ve watched it unfold. Basically since a week before I was a Glutton for Punishment.

Jacques started to date this girl at the club. And I watched it happen in front of me. He goes after what he wants. Then when he doesn’t want it. He moves along.

She’s starting to wonder about what his intentions are.

WHY am I the one who gets to hear it?

WHY???

AND. WHY. Do I get to WATCH it?

Because. I’m trying to take the high road. He’s a jack ass. And I deserve better. But do I deserve to actually see whatever this is unfold in front of me?

I watched it last night. I was angry. They don’t care about me. That part is obvious. They deserve each other. Both liars. Both suck as people. Both don’t care. So. Why do I care?

Because apparently I’m just a glutton for punishment.

All of us are on different paths. I’m in the bloody milky-way compared to the road they are on. Ignorant Road I think it’s called.

It just sucks because we all have this similar interest. Sailing. I was thinking of joining the Rescue team. Hells bells no. Jacques already on it and she is thinking of joining next year. But why do I have to refrain from doing what I want?

I love this sailing thing. Finally found a hobby I enjoy. And I love being on the water. It is the best thing I have done for myself.

 

 

The Receding Anxiety

The anxiety is settling.

Mainly because Jacques actually said something nice about my sailing capabilities 7 days later. I found out in fact he was saying it to others and one person actually said… “Have you told Jewels this?”….*crickets*

He finally told me. Sunday evening in a convo that included his regular sailing partner and it was all good.

Just conversation between him and I feels so weird.

We don’t have much in common I think.

I do catch him checking me out though. Which is flattering. Thankfully, nothing comes of it. Why make things more awkward than they are?

All in all the anxiety is receding. Except the question about what to do with my dad situation. I am good at squelching that. And currently, I think that’s what I want to do.

High Anxiety

Since Sunday…so many things have caused my anxiety to soar.

First is one of my own making since I decided to be a Glutton for Punishment and sail on race day with Jacques. WTF WAS I THINKING??? I haven’t been able to get his annoying, scolding, voice out of my head, AFTER we had just finished racing. I just wanted to leave. I just wanted to cry. He treated me like a child from the get go all because he wanted to go faster, he wanted to compete. It was not ideal.  I just didn’t want to listen to HIM anymore. I made a stupid decision. A stupid mistake. A lesson in humility and ego bashing, but also it’s cost me some level of respect or opportunity in the future to possibly go on one of these boats again with someone else. Possibly. Time will tell.

It’s four days later.

Wish I could shake his voice out of my head.

I woke up to his voice yelling inside my ears.  And it’s still going.

ALL OF WHICH MAKE ME WANT TO HURL.

I still feel sick to my stomach.

Racing. Not. For. Me.

I should know me better. I do know that about me.

Second, work. bleh. not going to talk about it really except it’s boring and repetitive and it pays the bills.

Thirdly, school. I had a final yesterday which I really didn’t study for. At. all. Because I was working and playing instead. Who takes a course in Summer???

Fourthly. And this is possibly the real catalyst for my anxiety. The decision to take the opportunity to reconnect with my father. It’s been a 16 years since he and I last spoke. Unfortunately, the love of his life passed away and common decency and good upbringing dictates that I least send a sympathy card. Now the big question, do I open the door for contact with placing my return address on said card? Do I even want to have the hope that he will contact me? Do I want to be contacted? Do I just want to send the note and leave it at that? Or do I want to not do anything?

There is no timeline on this. It will never be too late to send the sympathy card. It’s already been over three months since her passing. My half-sister told me in April and gave me our father’s address at my request.

But the question “What do I want….” keeps rolling through my head.

Right along side Jacques the Asshat screaming “GYBE” and “Fuck” and “You know what your problem is….”

All of this makes anxiety.

Very High Anxiety.

Glutton for Punishment

WTF was I thinking.

Jaques texted inviting me to sail his tiger hobie over the weekend…..during a race.

Now. I’m no slouch, but this was a huge step up from where I started. Basically I went from sailing a bathtub to sailing a rocket ship.

With Jacques.

all in all a bad idea.

I didn’t say much. I just tried to listen. Follow what he said. But his accent and he mumbles.

It was also racing. which I’ve never done while being at the helm. It was very stressful and high anxiety.

UGH. we don’t get along.

AND THEN….since i was “driving” i capsized us. then he wasn’t clear in explaining how to right the damn thing, and then i slipped and the harness i was wearing punctued one of the hulls.

UGH. UGH. UGH. I just wanted to give up and not even be around him. He def. doesn’t make me feel good about myself nor confident. I enjoyed being on the boat. But did not enjoy the company.

Quite frankly I think the feeling is mutual.

Never again.

We are done.

I don’t even have a desire to call him. text him.

I do have a desire to punch him.

But I refrain.

I’m in such a good mood today.

It’s so hard to even concentrate on work. Maybe because it’s Friday.  Maybe because there’s a heatwave in Vancouver around the corner. Maybe because I had a week of revelations.Thanks to good friends and possibly lack of sleep.

The realization that two years ago this week, I was in such a bad emotional state. The words., “absolute wreck and depressing creature” come to mind to describe me. It was the first break with FilmGuy. I had moved out. I had no where to go. It was bizarre. This time last year, we were still trying to make it work. I can’t even remember what I got him for his birthday. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to give him. I could think of many things I wanted to take away from him.

THAT is a sign the relationship is done. Gone. But I still hung on.  I know…wtf.

NOW two years after I moved out, one year after I realized the end should have been solidified 7 months prior. I can only laugh, smile and drink the champagne.

Life is great. I have a job (knock on wood), I have the love of friends, I’m almost rid of all my debt and I have found a passion in sailing.

I can’t sweat the small stuff. The details I can’t control. How people perceive me, what they think of me, whether they like me or not. All I can do is smile and carry on. Not worry about it. It will all work itself out. Because if anything the last two years have taught me. It always does.

Not much went on this past weekend, except a lot went on. No evening plans were created. Which is what happens when everyone I know is out of town.  But I ended up having a lovely weekend full of wine, food and friends.

Albeit the wine and food were had by myself and my friend from Capetown (CPT) and I chatted. The time difference makes conversation difficult during the week. My Friday 7pm is his Saturday 4am – or something like that. So he’s drunk and I’m starting to enjoy a glass of wine apres work. We text using What’sApp and it’s pretty good convo.  I do wish that we either lived in the same city or the same time zone. Would make conversing easier. Hell it would make the choice of whether to date easier. For now the choice is made for us.

Saturday was random. Biked to the beach and met a friend or two to play some beach volleyball during the day with overcast skies and a drizzle of rain here and there. Quite frankly perfect for beach weather. But then the evening was weird. I don’t think I can even explain it. But I’ll try.

Ran into Jaques at the sailing club after volleyball and then had a beer.  The convo was weird. I was flustered because of English (I know…what? this is complicated) and I may have mentioned it. Why not? We are no longer dating. The topic got funny though…because some how he asked the question:

Him – “Do you think I’m a manwhore?”

Me. Without missing a beat. “Yes”

Him – ……”I am not!” with a laugh

Me. laughing “I kid”. but i don’t.

And then I ended up with crabs. No. Not those kind of crabs. THESE kind of crabs…

Fresh crab boiling in the pot.

Fresh crab boiling in the pot.

from the guys at the club who have a crab trap out. Jacques ended up with 2 and I ended up with 2. And then Jacques drove me home as I was puzzled how to cycle with 2 live crabs hanging off my handle bars.

For some reason I didn’t fully exhaust my friend list and I ended up boiling, cleaning and eating two full sized crab for dinner. Which did take the better part of three hours and I did drink some white wine. Thank god for youtube and instructional video on how to clean and break open a crab!

Sunday I ended up on the phone with my best friend who resides in the flood zone of Cowtown and ensuring her safety and going out to the sailing club to get a good sail in. Getting more practice at the helm! It was definitely nice to get some practice.

After sailing it got weird.

Drinks and nachos on the patio seemed decent. Then people started to leave. My friend Em showed up so I stayed and chatted with her. And Jacques stayed. Which, is the weird part.

Then. The reason why Jacques stayed showed up.

This girl showed up. She is lovely. In fact, ultimately, she and I hit it off. However, I had to endure watching him flirt with her. And be nice to her. Because of late all he does is pick on me. It’s getting old. I just want to slap him. But I don’t.

Let me clarify – picking on me with comments such as:

“It’s all Jewels fault” – umm huh? no.

“See…she complains all the time”  – to which I respond what am I complaining about? to which he had no response.

And not just once or twice. Multiple times. Trying to be funny. It got old. Not to mention the cutting me off in mid story/sentence. Quite frankly I had enough.

And then when we are one on one. He doesn’t say anything. It’s like pulling teeth to have a decent conversation.

Shoot me.

Well the girl and I went back to her place where she and I had a glass of wine and some left overs for dinner. THEN I became a flood gate because I am so fed up with Jaques. I should preface by saying the girl asked wtf is between you two. I don’t lie. But I didn’t omit. And I should have censored. I was a flood gate. I have kept this stuff away from the common knowledge of the club. Because like any environment if your personal life infiltrates it becomes food for the gossips. And I’d like to stay single and anonymous. But I’ve failed. I will however remain inevitably single. I said to the girl it’s been over four months since we kinda resolved whatever we were doing. He’s not mine, never was, I just wish he would stop being a jerk to me, because it’s not warranted.

Later I did text Jacques and ask what is deal was and if I did something to piss him off that he keeps picking on me or if its’ just my imagination.

Him: “It’s just your fertile imagination”

Me: “Fertile? Really. How does one text and convey an eye roll?”

Him: …

Me: …

So THAT’s a fun place to leave things. WTF does that mean? anyone?

I want Jacques to just bugger off. Leave me be. Stop picking on me. Stop sitting with me especially if I annoy him so much. Just walk away. I’m not going to take it personally. In fact the truth would be welcomed. Obviously I still have something unresolved with him. We don’t mesh well. I’m clumsy, messy and completely whatever. He’s orderly, ocdish, minimalist. Personality. I want to smack him half the time. He uses racist terminology at times. He complains. Everyone complains. Fucker. Look in the mirror.

I either love or hate. Wishy washy drives me insane. I have no patience. Passion. Ultimately we don’t mesh, but I need to not want to smack him when I see him. Or rip his head off.

Too bad he’s a good kisser and good looking. And knows it.

Alternatively, I can leave the table and avoid him. And quite frankly I would. If I didn’t need a ride home half the time because the 40 min bike ride seems really challenging or I have crabs. He can be useful.

UPDATE:

Tuesday night…I was able to ask Jacques in person what his deal was. APPARENTLY i was annoying because I was monopolizing the convo.

Well…if that’s how you feel, fine. but you had no right to through my personal stuff into the convo and be rude

(did I forget to mention he basically made me sound like a slut because of English? Which is my fault because I didn’t quite explain).

“you didn’t need to be rude. You never need to be rude. It’s not nice.”

“I”m not a nice guy” said…admist laughter.

UGH. If I eye rolled any harder my eyes would have to be knocked from the back of my head.

I texted him later.

Look. If I’m annoying you in that way again…say something “let the girl get a word in!” and I”ll take heed. Don’t throw my personal stuff as a reason. I told you that stuff in confidence because I thought we were friends.

AND in my head, and we were dating at one point you fucking asshole so you know more than most would.

I got no response. Haven’t even seen him. I have no expectations. This weekend should be interesting.

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