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.

 

 

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.

I got Crabs. No. Not those crabs. *UPDATED

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.

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.

English Has Left the Country

In a sad turn of events (but expected), English has returned to the cliffs of Dover. Literally. He got on a plane eastward bound in the wee hours of this morning.  He will be back in his homeland in time for the weekend and his continuation of fulfilling the next two to three years (I think) to qualify for his pension one day and return to Vancouver.

Even after the spastic-ness of myself last Friday evening, turns out I did not pooch the friendship and he is not ignoring me. Which I must say is a relief. He’s just letting me be the crazy (good and bad) Pirate Girl that I am and texting when he can and when he is near WiFi. Needless to say, the dependence on WiFi is painful and the window that was available Tuesday night to meet up evaporated when he texted me trying to use What’sApp. But to be clear, the texting is no longer as flirty as it was say…the first night he arrived.

It was a sad realization, however,  at 10:30pm Tuesday night to know we wouldn’t see each other again this trip. Failed texts and attempts to hang out have been thwarted by his popularity, my busy active single life and lack of technology or brain power to man up and pay the exorbitant text cost in Canada when the WiFi doesn’t work.

He did man up Wednesday morning and just texted using iMessage that came with the phrases “so sorry”, “can’t meet you on the North Shore”, “have a great time at the beach after work”, and “Big Hug”. Kinda feel like this has been a ploy so someone (ie. me) from Vancouver will come visit him in Kent. Or is that just optimistic and wishful thinking?

Regardless, I’m securely back in random friend zone, feeling like the connection we once had or have, does not translate well on text messaging or emails. It’s hard to explain. But I’ll take the friend zone. Not going to lie, it is a sigh of relief to know he’s still my friend. Now, if I’m a better friend (believe me, I’ve been that absent friend the last year), then next time he’s in town, maybe I won’t be relegated to the sorry pile.

 Life is better with him in it, whatever the status of the relationship is.

It is what it is.

It’s March already?  Where did the time go?  February is already a short month and it just seemed to get shorter.

As for me, life is trucking along and some tough decisions were made.

I decided to leave the Softball team that I joined with FilmGuy. Mainly because Captian was being a douche and not getting back to my inquiry as to what the plan was for the team, whether it was FilmGuy or myself. So I made the decision for him – or as Captain would say “Easy for [him]”. Which is insulting. Although I did call him immature and disrespectful in his inability to respond to my email after a week. My patience got the better of me.

Also, I can’t be friends with those who associate with the bully aka FilmGuy.
So. C’est la vie.

Unfortunately, it means I’m losing friends and FilmGuy would then say I’m being a quitter and obviously he’s [as Charlie Sheen said] #WINNING.

Can I roll my eyes yet? No?

Oh yeah….one of my good friends knows FilmGuys new girlfriend and her family. Not directly, but through another friend whom I am an acquaintance of. Basically. It’s FOUR DEGREES OF SEPARATION.

NOW I can roll my eyes.

All of this is too close for comfort. Hence the new friends need apply.

I did join another team, albeit in the same league on the same night [Tuesdays]. That wasn’t intentional, it’s just how it manifested itself.  If I don’t like it, I don’t have to go to play or play against my old team. It’s not a big loss on life, it’s just how life is sometimes.

I have joined other activities and am trying to join a beach volleyball team, but the only one worth joining was also for Tuesday nights, so that blows. It’s too late to back out of softball, so I live with the decisions and hope that another team will need a girl. I am keeping my eyes open.

Aside from that, my social life is at a stand still. All my best girls no longer live in the lower mainland. It is harder to find people that I actually want to spend my time with and who won’t throw me under the bus. With that said, it’s why I’ve been visiting far off places as Kamloops, BC and will be heading to Calgary, AB at the end of the month. These are hot tourist destinations I know! But effort has to be made and who doesn’t like a little adventure!

The biggest thing, is that I’m still crushing on Jacques. There was a rendezvous for a brief minute than I left. Smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand. SUCH a good kisser. On paper he is everything that I find attractive. He himself is physically attractive and for the most part we have such a good time. Too bad there is something that he doesn’t want or doesn’t see in me. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend or he doesn’t want me as a girlfriend. Either way, he’s just not that into me anymore…abruptly so and I’d love to know why. But men are simple, so, he’s just not that into me.

Although I’ll forever be confused as to why he texted, emailed, sent me a postcard from his holidays and returned with a gift if he didn’t see this going somewhere? Boggles my mind.

All in all, it’s life and I’ll live. Just somehow have got to let those details go and learn to be just friends…that is possible no? hmmm maybe not. Maybe I’m kidding myself. However, our paths will probably cross this summer. We are neighbours and I have been planning on taking sailing lessons which happens to be the same venue where he sails out of. I swear this was planned long before I knew him. In fact FilmGuy and I were to do sailing lessons last summer but FilmGuy didn’t want to bla bla bla, so I’m doing it this year. Come rain or shine. Literally.

Between softball, volleyball and sailing life is looking active. Just the way I like it. I just have to get through March without being THAT girl. That girl who texts Jacques because she’s bored [everybody now….EYEROLL] or THAT girl who throws a pity party for herself on every Friday and Saturday night because she doesn’t have a plan. Or THAT girl whom eats her feelings and hibernates to the point of removing oneself from society.

Luckily I’m only 2 out of the 3 “THAT girl” scenarios. Definitely trying to avoid all three this weekend.