Consequences

As many of you who read this blog know, staying up until and often through the wee hours of the morning is not exactly a rare occurrence for me. It has been awhile, though, since I have done so because I've simply been plagued with too much regret and guilt to get any sleep. It's one of those nights that, even if I could sleep, I wouldn't; I don't feel that I deserve it.

To those Australians who have been cunning enough to find the location of this blog, a few of you in particular - and you know who you are - would really do best not to read further. And that's not a cute gimmick. That's not a subtle way to entice you to read further. It's a warning. No; it's a plea. Maybe it's both. I urge you to read no further. If you must, it is at your own risk; I write this blog as if no one reads it, and I refuse to edit myself just because I know that some do. I will not be held responsible for whatever feelings you may be left with afterward.

I had intended not to blog this at all. I thought it would have to go unspoken. But it has become clear to me now that events have gone in such a way that the situation is already irreparable. In which case, if those who have been warned not to continue on are doing so, this is my chance to tell my side of the story.

I am quite sure that I have mentioned my good Australian friends James and Emma many, many times in this blog. In the 6 months I've known them, they have become a daily part of my life. They have become as constant as the sun and the moon and, like those celestial bodies, are a very good pair. I do not say this lightly; they have become family to me. But anyway, here is my story. I'll just tell it best I can, and I'll let the chips fall where they may.

I suppose this really began the morning after my birthday. James and Emma had a fight after we were all done hanging out. According to her testimony of it, he felt that she hadn't paid him enough attention or made sure he was properly taken care of. I disagreed on this point; I felt that she had done her due diligence, but then, it's not really my business. Emma came to visit me in my room. This is not something that she does terribly often. As a matter of fact, I can remember only two such previous occasions, the details of which are not necessarily relevant to this discussion. She just needed to talk it out. We talked; I gave her a hug; she felt better and, for some reason or another went off to visit Rowie.

The story I got from her about that is she talked with Rowie, they drunkenly passed on on his bed, and in the morning, they awoke cuddling - thinking each other were different people - and kissed. She told me they realized almost immediately what was happening, stopped, and said their clumsy goodbyes. I figured that it was nothing to bother James about . . . she had come dangerously close to making a mistake, but in the end had done the right thing and did not make one. And she seemed to feel genuine regret about the situation. This was all on Thursday the 12th.

Sometime on the evening of Saturday, October the 14th, she came to visit me again. She needed to talk about James. Apparently, they were having some more rough patches in their relationship, and she just needed to talk it out.

Now, this could potentially be an awkward position for me. They're both my friends. Equally. They got back together about a week after I first met James, so I can't really play favorites when it comes to them. But I figured offering a friendly ear and some kind words weren't against the rules of being neutral. She was feeling a bit trapped; from her perspective, she felt that James could be a bit controlling and smothering, and it's fair to say he got jealous of her giving attention to other guys. She told me a great deal about their storied history (which I will not repeat out of reverence - let it suffice to say that getting back together was a leap of faith on his part) and, in such context, while I cannot really condone his behavior, I can certainly understand it. James was beginning to unwittingly help to create the very situation he was afraid of happening by holding the reins too tightly. Of course, as I told her, the way that she chooses to react to that behavior is a choice that is left to her and to her alone. I told her she was responsible for those choices and the consequences.

I could sympathize with both of their positions, really. I know what it's like to be her, and be in a relationship where you feel like you don't have any room to breathe. She had to sneak off to come and talk to me because she felt that James wouldn't understand, for example. It's just not necessarily a fun way to live. For James' part, I also know how he could completely misinterpret things. He felt like he was just being a really loving - if slightly paranoid - boyfriend, and just couldn't fathom why she would want or need some time apart from him now and again.

Part of the problem was that Emma is a lot like me in that she doesn't like confrontation. They'd get in a fight over James considering that she was spending too much time talking to me or some other thing and she'd back down and concede his point even when she didn't agree with it. I know from experience that strategy is a dead end road. Every time you back down, every time you concede to a point, every time you don't stand up for yourself, you give away a part of yourself. Eventually one of two things happen, depending on personality. Either the person just finds they have nothing left to give and the relationship withers away, or the person will suddenly explode in a fit of rage and things will end quickly and violently.

I wanted neither of these things to happen to my two dear friends. I wanted them to resolve their differences and become impassioned lovers again. I have envisioned them seeing me off at the airport together. And I wanted to help keep that a reality. I told her most of what I've said above, and I told her that she needs to learn to stand up for herself in a fight. She said that James would always get very hurt when she would, and I told her that, again, him reacting that way is his choice. Whether consciously or not, that reaction is designed to keep her from fighting back, and the more he knows it works, the more he'll do it. Stand up for yourself; if you don't think you've done anything wrong, don't concede that you have. I cautioned that she shouldn't be a bitch about it, but calmly and assuredly just say what she feels is right and meet a compromise with him like civilized people.

This is advice I would've given anybody in their situation and, as such, I felt no qualms about giving said advice. I made no judgements about James nor Emma, just gave sound advice. It was up to her to do what she would with it. She thanked me for listening and left.

She came back about a half an hour later. This time, she was fairly distraught and a bit hysterical. She told me that when she got back, James had felt that she had been gone doing whatever it is that she was doing for too long. That he had stopped what he was doing and sat in the dark waiting for her to come back and pounced on her the moment she came back after exactly an hour and 10 minutes (apparently he counted) and wanted to know what she'd been up to. Unfortunately for me, she decided to take my advice and she stood up for herself. She said that James did not react to this well at all and . . . I'm a little hazy on this part, but apparently she either left or James threw her out or some such thing . . . but either way she ended up at my room and clearly needed a friend and a bit of asylum while she composed herself and collected her thoughts.

This was definitely getting into more ethically ambiguous territory, seeing as James would clearly not approve of her running to me, but what was I to do? Turn her aside? Feed her to the dogs? Of course not. I'm too good a person for my own good to do that. I figured I'd let her vent, then send her on her way, either home or to resolve the situation with James . . . whatever she decided to do.

Then James IMs me on MSN. He wants to know where Emma is. . . . What do I do? Given that Emma has run to me for protection and is sitting in my room scared and hysterical, I have to admit that my feelings on this matter are beginning to get a little biased. It's not that I'm judging James or think he's a bad person, but clearly Emma needed a friend and a place to wait it out while James cooled down. And frankly, she found me first. But I've got this choice, now. I either tell him that she is here and basically feed one of my best friends to the hounds while simultaneously feeding the fire, or I flat out lie to one of my other best friends. Being the diplomat that I am, I chose my words very carefully and said exactly this: "She stopped by - why, what's up?"

Taken literally . . . it isn't a denial of her whereabouts, but neither is it an affirmation. Granted, it was designed to deceive him a little, and to make him infer that she was here but is no longer. Basically, I felt that he did have the right to know that she was here at some point. So I gave him that bone. They could work that out on their own. I also felt that she had the right to ask for some asylum. So I tried to do that in the same breath. I figured this would give her a bit of time to finish composing herself, then I'd send her on her way.

The next pitch comes at me like a Pedro Martinez change-up. There's a knock at my door. Emma and I exchange knowing looks. It's going to be James. I open the door . . . and sure enough there he stands. This is the part that absolutely breaks my heart; he hasn't come looking for Emma. He's come for the same purpose that Emma originally came: he needed to talk. I am Jack's deep sense of despair. I can only imagine the thoughts that went through his mind when he turned his head and discovered Emma sitting on the bed. I can only also imagine the betrayal he must have felt. I could also see the raw fear in Emma's eyes. I have never been so torn in my life.

Even in hindsight I'm still not sure what the right choice would have been. Is there one? I don't think so. It's not a black and white situation. It was a difficult decision . . . and I made it as best I could.

They both stormed out, yelling and screaming at each other. About a minute later Emma comes back in through the outside door with tears in her eyes. She tells me he broke up with her and that it's over, grabs her purse, and leaves.

I. Feel. . . . Indescribably bad. I really don't have anything to feel guilty about. I'm a victim of circumstance. These are the things I keep telling myself to remind myself. But still, I feel guilty. Emma talks to me via MSN on her mobile while she wanders around in the parking lot in the dark. I think of telling her she ought to come back here, but I don't. It's my first instinct because I want to offer some comfort to someone for my part in this cruel happenstance, and James certainly won't be talking to me for awhile. But I don't make the suggestion. It's the wrong play. She shouldn't be here. Especially not if James decided to come back over. She almost did. Given the choice between having her wander the parking lot at 2am or come back to my room, as a gentleman, the choice is obvious. I was very nervous about that possibility, though. I steeled my resolve against a possible advance in her emotional state. She had thanked me and told me how appreciative she was of my help a few too many times and had openly admitted she needed some attention and affection.

And, let's face it. I'm not attracted to Emma in that way at all . . . but after that whole Grace thing, and after not having a date in almost 2 years and not having had sex in the same amount of time . . . any possible affection from any decently attractive woman is going to be a source of temptation for me. I wasn't presuming anything, I was simply preparing for the worst; there was no fucking way I was going to do anything to hurt James anymore than I already had.

Eventually she went home. I sighed a big sigh of relief that she made the right decision. She IMed me from there and we talked a bit. And she wanted to call. But then, suddenly, she told me she was coming back to Chisholm to talk to Rowie. I was very confused by this. And very against the idea. It was a BAD play, especially given that Rowie and James live one floor apart, and that Rowie and James have some history vis a vis Ashy. (The short version is Ashy and Rowie dated for a long time and Ashy fooled around a bit with James both during and after the relationship.) She told me she just needed some closure, and she needed to find out exactly what that kiss meant.

I ought to have convinced her not to go over. I should have fucking barricaded the tower 1 door and not let her go in. But I didn't. And, in the same night that her and James break up, she brings the crazy love circus by spending the night and most of the day with Rowie. I found out about that the next day when she PM'd me . . . from Rowie's computer and screen name. I was just . . . floored. First of all, something about it REALLY bothered me. It just didn't seem right. Honestly, I felt a little used. Not that getting the girl was even on my list of things to do, but it left me feeling fairly raw that I did all that leg work and get nothing for it in return but grief only to have her do something so fucking stupid like sleep with the guy James already has a history with within a few hours of breaking up with him.

Again, I'm pissed at myself for what I didn't do. I should've told her that she was crazy and to get the hell out of dodge. Now. If she absolutely had to spend time with Rowie, fucking get off campus. She had an apartment, take him there. Whatever. Just make yourself invisible. Don't goddamn hang out 1 floor down from James, especially since she reported that he hit her when she went up there earlier in the day to return his stuff.

I was just bewildered and very very angry with all three of them to think straight enough to tell her anything useful. What she did was NOT right and I can't condone it at all, but I can understand it. It's a case of heartbreak and misplaced emotion and a subconscious need for revenge. I was also not very happy at all with James. Hitting a woman is a VERY big no-no in my book. That shit is just not called for. But mostly, I was beyond furious with Rowie. While one could argue that Emma may or may not have known what she was doing . . . Rowie certainly knew exactly what he was doing. It was his chance for revenge against James for the Ashy situation. I found that so despicable I almost vomited.

Believe it or not, this gets worse. Later that Sunday evening there's a knock at my door. It's a very drunk and clearly very angry James. Harsh and Dave are with him, clearly there just in case he decides to do anything stupid. He asks if I know where Emma is. At this point, it's been about two hours since I've talked to her. I had hoped she was smart enough to leave by now, and had pretty much assumed she had since I was getting no responses to my PMs. That . . . and he clearly did not need to hear the truth about where she was right that second. Seriously, the poor guy was about *this* close from snapping. This time, I was protecting him if anyone at all. I told him that, at this very moment, I honestly didn't know where she was. I had a sinking feeling she was still at Rowie's . . . but I didn't dare make that conjecture. He asked to check my room and kitchen. I graciously obliged him. I seriously felt like a pile of shit.

As soon as he was satisfied, he left. I immediately IM'd Rowie/Emma and told them what James was like and that he was looking for Emma. I knew that Rowie's would be his next stop. But they never got the warning. Rowie IM'd me back a bit afterward and told me that James came in and found them both in the room. He hit them both and began to chase after Emma before Dave could wrestle him to the ground.

I was . . . in awe, to say the least. I couldn't believe that it had come to this in less than 24 hours since she first came to me to talk. That deep-seated feeling of unattachable guilt kept creeping deeper and deeper into my stomach. Emma called me later and told me she was afraid . . . and I can imagine so. His actions were despicable . . . but his feelings were justified. As diplomatically as possible I let her know that I felt what happened was her own fault for being stupid enough to not only sleep with Rowie, but literally be a sitting duck and just wait for James to catch her red-handed.

Dave came over and he and I talked and got things about the situation off of our chests until about 3:30 in the morning. Just before he left, my MSN tells me that James had signed in. He had blocked me up until that point. After he left, he asked me a series of questions. Mostly what I knew and why I didn't tell him what I knew. And he asked if I kissed Emma. I told him the truth about everything, and was quite happy to say that I did nothing ungentlemanly with Emma; that's not how I roll.

He then told me his side of the story. He told me that he found out from whomever (I assume Rowie) that, on Thursday morning, she didn't stop. And there were some other things. And he was angry at me for not telling him what I knew. I tried to explain that I only knew what she told me and I had believed her and didn't think it was anything that I needed to get involved in. But he wouldn't hear of it. He's moving out of Chisholm and back home either today or tomorrow, and will return to uni this semester only to turn in his final projects during finals. He bid me a good life, and seemed very hurt. I have now lost a friend because of all this.

Needless to say, I got no sleep last night. And I'm very hurt and confused. Either James or Emma is lying to me and trying to turn me against the other, as their stories greatly contradict. I honestly don't want to know who it is. There have been too many casualties already. James has disowned me, Rowie I am just disgusted with, and now it seems Emma I can't completely trust. But I'd like to retain Emma as a friend, if only because losing two out of this whole situation is two too many.

It's after a few weeks like the ones I've had that I come back to a question that I ask myself occasionally: Why am I who I am? Why do I stick my neck out for my friends like I do? Even when I get nothing in return and, in fact, often get shit in return? Life would be so much more personally rewarding if I was just a self-centered, misogynistic, womanizing asshole. And then, I remember the answer. It's because I don't do it for me. The purpose of being selfless - in fact, the definition - is to do things for the benefit of others at a sacrifice to yourself. It's the knowing I've helped someone else that brings the reward.

So maybe I'll help Emma. I'll help her learn from what she's done and maybe help her become a stronger and better person. Maybe. It's at least something positive I can take from this.

Aussie Doozie of the Day:
What, that wasn't enough? Fuck off.

A Setting Sun, a Rising Dawn

It's been an interesting week and a half, a real rollercoaster ride, and one of near-epic proportions. I'm gonna try and go through it in sequence because that's really how the story plays out best.

I believe the last time we got together, dear friends, I was discussing how my plan of attack about Grace was backfiring. It occurred to me that it was time to change gears, and so I gathered up my courage and untied the knots in it, and asked her to the Chisholm College play. Why the play? Because it really wasn't a big deal at all. I asked in a way like we'd be going as friends just to hang out, and I was gonna see how far she wanted to take that. If it led to a date . . . so be it. If not, that's cool, too.

I asked her Wednesday before last (October 4th for those of you keeping score). She said she'd get back to me. Now, I'm no spring chicken when it comes to these things. A response of that sort indicates a no 9 times out of 10. So I figured that by the time Friday the 6th came around (which was the day of the play), I'd have my definitive answer.

In the meantime, the assignments for Internet Computing and Artificial Intelligence were looming over my head like a two-headed beast. Actually, we can go ahead and call the combination of them a full Cerberus. They were that scary. The AI assignment wasn't really even that bad, but the instructions for it were written like a murder-mystery novel. Once you figured out what the fuck you were supposed to do it was a breeze, but in the meantime it was like trying to find a dick in a lesbian porno.

The ICS assignment wasn't so bad either, but it was fucking huge. The website we were expected to create was a full-scale, near-enterprise ready application. Had we stayed on top of it, it wouldn't have been that much of a problem. I did my due diligence and did all of my stuff on time, and so did one of the partners (Anton), but unfortunately Adrian had two other projects for CS due that were equal in magnitude and due sooner, so ours got put on the back-burner, and just Anton and I simply were not getting things done quick enough by ourselves.

So I had been working on both of these projects for two weeks and, really, these past two weeks I have barely attended classes because of them. Hell, sleep has become and almost optional component of daily life. I'm painting this picture so that you can get an idea of the kind of stress that I was under - I'm not really complaining about it, every student goes through it. But it's fairly important you realize the context that this Grace situation was erupting on top of.

I had been told that 5 on Friday was the last minute to pre-order tickets for that night's play. I hadn't heard an answer from Grace by that time. As a matter of fact, I hadn't heard from her at all. Not a word. Not a PM, not a message through a friend, nothing. All of this was made slightly worse by the fact that our mutual friend Sarah had gotten drunk at the bar the night before and let it slip to Grace that I was interested in her. It wasn't worse because she knew - this isn't high school - it was worse because she knew, I knew she knew, and she still said and did nothing. She still decided that the best course of action was to take the coward's way out and let me twist in the wind for several days to figure it out on my own. And, as is always the case when you're waiting for your crush to reply to your initial advance, I was quite anxious those few days.

Anyone who's ever been in these situations, from either side, I'm sure you can relate. And if you think it's a moral and ethical dilemma, you're dead wrong. There's a clear morally superior choice: tell the truth; do the right thing. Yeah, sometimes it sucks when you're honest, but then at least you've got that going for you. It sucks just as bad when you're not, and then there's no silver lining.

So, I go to the play alone. Which is a bit of a bummer, but I'm ok. I'm generally realizing that if she's gonna be flaky like that, I probably shouldn't expend too much energy worrying about it. Still, it chips away at my veneer when I see couples there or when a friend asks where Grace is. But I'm handling things ok. I just sit and enjoy Bartleby the Scrivener and The Sandman and take everything with a grain of salt.

I go home and talk in main chat on DC a bit, and Grace is also talking in main chat. But not to me. Actually, she's decidedly ignoring me. *sigh* And it all was going so well. How did it come to this? I'll probably never get that answer. I am reminded of what Morgan Freeman's Somerset said in Se7en: "Even the most promising clues usually only lead to others." But it's not a question that matters, in the long run. The truth of the matter is clear enough: the chapter is over. But the story isn't quite finished.

After the play that night, I was lounging around my room. I'll admit, now and again I gave into the temptation to feel sorry for myself. It wasn't the rejection that bothered me. At this point I can handle rejection without even breaking stride or losing time. That wasn't what bothered me. Other than her not bothering to have the decency to actually give me a straight answer, other than her choosing to ignore me, what bothered me is that, to both me and everybody else, it started so well. And what bothered me is that we weren't friends anymore. Why does it have to be one way or the other? Why does it have to be all or nothing? I was perfectly happy with being just friends. Why are so few people mature enough to deal with the situation and move on with a friendship? I'm not a creep or a stalker. I'm not gonna press. As a matter of fact, I can recall nary a girl I have asked out twice. But, regardless, things change. That's what I'm afraid of when a girl says no.

Eventually I just felt like I needed some company. Not that I really needed to talk, per se, but I was smart enough to know that if I kept sitting alone with my own thoughts it would be a path to self-destruction, so I went and visited my good friends James and Emma. We hung out in the kitchen, and I brought Emma some eggs so she could make French Toast for us.

While we were sitting out there, Harsh came out to chat with us. He's apparently having some women problems of his own. I think a lot of them are of his own making, but I can still relate. He's still hooked on this CRAC rep named Megan for whatever reason. Emma said "Harsh, I bet you could get a better looking girl than Megan!" James said "He has! This year!"

I'm sitting and eating my French Toast as they discuss it. On the list are Ashy, Caroline Ingle (another CRAC who's gorgeous, but very stuck up), Grace. I'm sitting down at the table facing away from everyone. And it's a good thing, too, because it's pretty much all I can do not to vomit the missing portions of my French Toast back up onto my plate. The air is suddenly very thin in this room. I need to get out. I quickly take a bite. Harsh? Another hasty bite. But they just met last week. I furiously cut away more pieces. She thinks Harsh is that much better than me? I cut my teeth on the final bite. But it's . . . it's Harsh! As diplomatically as possible, I pick up my eggs, politely say goodbye, and leave the room.

Between tower 1 and tower 10 I struggle to contain the inevitable emotional and mental breakdown. My mind slowly tortures me with imagined images as I think about what was just said. The world is a blur. It's spinning but time has just stood still. This was just exactly the wrong time to hear that.

After I get back and yell and punch a wall or two, Emma gets on and apologizes on behalf of Harsh, who was really just an innocent bystander in this situation; he didn't know what was going on. She did assure me that what Harsh said was nothing like I thought he meant. She was drunk and they almost sort of kissed once. Still the damage was done. On top of tossing me by the wayside, she's just out flirting with other guys. So I have to consider the fact that maybe all that positive energy wasn't actually anything at all. It was a pretty rough night, but by the end of it I had come to grips with the situation and more-or-less recovered.

But the stress damage had taken it's toll, and on top of all the other stress, I was just doing my best to keep it together the next day when I was about to go off to the lab to do some ICS with Anton. Before I got there, though, I was talking in DC, and we were talking about heights . . . and I don't really remember how it got to this point, but . . . more or less it turned into an all against one-or-two (me and a friend defending me) bash against short guys and how yeah, girls don't like them and shouldn't date them.

I don't usually let conversations like this get to me, but there was just so much stress in my life that it was starting to. And just then . . . Grace jumps in on their side. "Yeah, I couldn't date a short guy." Excuse me. I need to go grab some ice for my balls.

I respond "Gee, thanks for helping me out." And she says "Well, geez, I dated Cam and he's like 6'4"." I was so close to saying "Yeah, and look how great that turned out . . ." And the only reason I didn't was because I didn't need some angry 6'4" redhead running around after me on top of everything. So, in not so many words, Grace has basically just said that the reason she isn't into me is because of my height. And as crushing as that sounds - and is - it's actually doing me a big favor. If she's gonna be that shallow about it, then good. Reject me. Save me from myself.

I left the chat and my room thinking just that as I went to the lab and had myself a nice stressful day of programming for ICS, fighting with everything to make it work just right. And I added a bit of AI in there just for extra flavor. But by the end of the day . . . that particular fact brought on me a realization: there's nothing wrong with me except for my height. The thing that has probably turned more girls away from me than any other single thing (I can think of at least half a dozen that it's probably turned away here) is the one thing that I can't change. And that fucking sucks. It's actually succeeded in making me more jaded and cynical thank usual. Honestly, why should I bother chasing girls anymore? I probably won't for a long time.

I come home after a long day of programming work, and get on DC again. Just chatting along. Someone mentions they're a vegetarian, so I naturally get into that conversation. It's a natural topic of interest of mine, being a vegetarian myself. Then, the jerks in the room start ragging on vegetarians. One of them bridging this session with the previous slugfest by saying it's the reason I'm so short. Now, normally . . . I don't lose my cool in chat rooms. It's pointless. I usually don't lose my cool at all. But I'd had it. I basically told them that I was tired of having my way of life attacked and they could go fuck themselves, and I left. I wasn't proud of it, really, but you can't really blame me.

But at least now that stress is all over. AI is turned in and fully complete. ICS was turned in a day late, but is pretty much complete. I'm completely over the thing with Grace. And I've turned 22. My birthday was awesome. I was surrounded by friends and lots of wine, and I got free pizza. Even Grace turned up and was very nice, and even got me a card. I have a suspicion it may be only because she either a) feels a bit guilty, b) it's expected of her or c) both, but either way, somehow her presence still managed to add to the day and not detract from it.

She left shortly after arriving, but many of us - James, Emma, Dave, Harsh, Meryl, Jane, and perhaps some others - all got pretty drunk off of cask wine went romping around the university late at night. It was the perfect way to de-stress. I'm really gonna miss these guys when I come back home.

Aussie Doozie of the Day:
Almost every wine I've seen here has been a cask wine (in a box that has a bladder, sort of like boxed coffee) or is a screw-top. I've hardly ever come across a wine that uses a cork. Consequently, I have drilled through the cap of more than a few screw-tops by accident . . .

A Metaphor

"With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from Casey's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has struck out." *

The full story tomorrow, dear reader.

*From Casey At Bat by Earnest Lawrence Thayer

Change of Plans

You know, it's such an odd dichotomy that I love web site design but I don't really like coding all that much. At least, I don't like it right now, because it feels like I'm coding and coding and coding and there's not even a hint of a living website yet. As soon as it starts coming together I'll finally get some motivation.

I was saying how much my friends here mean to me in a post a few days ago, and it's so true. I was talking to Emma a bit, and I realized how much of a mistake I'm almost making with my strategy to get Grace.

My previous approach of let her come to me has two flaws. The first flaw is that, while it's a very noble idea - her way, her pace - it could very easily mistakenly scream out cowardice or indifference or otherwise be misconstrued. Especially that I now remember she wanted a guy with at least some ambition. Some drive to get things done. The failure of the nice guy approach is that it can make you seem weak.

The second flaw is that I haven't bothered to take her point of view. Think about it. If I've been interpreting her signals correctly, then from her point of view she HAS come to me already, and I have, as yet, done nothing about it.

So I think I shall just say the hell with it and ask her out. Not anything big or beautiful. Just something simple. Something that just friends could do, in the case that I'm wrong about her. Like . . . lunch. We're both on campus during the day. I'll ask her if she wants to hang out and have lunch sometime. That's about as innocent as it gets.

It's good to have a plan.

Aussie Doozy of the Day:
I love how, because I have an Australian IP address, banner ads now offer to get me a free US green card. It really cracks me up.

US Bank Sucks

That's the title of this blog. The reason is there's some teeny tiny hope that, upon a Google search for US Bank, someone will notice this little blog entry and read it, and will know that it would be a wise decision amongst wise decisions to stay the fuck away. After today, I want you to synonymize the phrases "US Bank" and "Rabid Pit Bull With AIDS." Would you go near a Rabid Pit Bull With AIDS? If you would, remind me to never share a soda with you.

I could explain, but the emails do a far better job. You don't have to read 'em all if you don't want to, but apparently it's entertaining to witness me pissed off at the world.

Me to US Bank:

First of all, your website needs some major overhauling. I am a University of Washington student studying as an exchange student in Australia, so I have no way to access your services aside from this website. It took me 5 tries to find a "Contact Us" link that actually worked to message you. Also, the best I can give you for an account number is "ends in 2311" because that's all your website will tell me. I'm out of the country right now and don't have that information on me. Your website ought to be smart enough to know from what account a secure email came from.

That frustration aside, let me get to the real issue here. I am FLABBERGASTED that you have issued so many fines to my account. I realized that first overdraft, stopped using the account. I tried to access online banking to transfer the cash I'd earned from using the card as credit (which must be in the neighborhood of $15 by now), but you have removed that functionality from your website. I figured you'd just be smart enough to see that I actually did have the funds to cover the purchase and you'd apply them, and I'd simply wait for my next financial aid dispersement to use the account again. Apparently . . . I was wrong. Not only did you not give me the means to handle the situation myself, you also deliberately didn't do the thing that was best for me, your customer, but did what would make you the most money. Is this what you call Five Star service?

Please see that this issue is resolved ASAP, and I am sad to say that this is a seriously enough incident that as soon as I re-enter the United States, I shall be concluding my business with you.

US Bank to Me:

On behalf of US Bank, please accept my sincere apology regarding your recent experience with US Bank. It is always our intention to perform at the highest standards possible to meet our customers' expectations. Here at U.S. Bank, we take great pride in meeting the most stringent internal and external standards for business conduct in every contact. We appreciate your candid feedback on your experience, as we want to ensure in the future that the expectations for quality service are met for all of our customers.

To ensure that your email is sent through our secure email service, simply:

- Point your browser to http://www.usbank.com
- Select "Contact Us" at the top of the page, and select your account type.
- Submit your information using the "Email Us" forms provided at the bottom of the page.

You can find your account number online by following these steps once you have logged in:

* Select the link for the account you would like the account number for (to get to the recent transactions screen)
* At the top, select the "Account and Reward Info" link
* Your account number will be displayed here

Customers are now able to redeem Cash Bonus rewards at anytime. Redemption will be in multiples of $5.00 with a $5.00 minimum. This payment is made to the checking account.

Currently, you have accumulated $26.57 in cash bonus rewards. We will be more than happy to transfer $25.00 into your checking account via email or through customer service. Should you wish to redeem your reward online using your Personal ID and Password, you would:

* Select the checking account
* Click on Account and Reward Info
* Click on card name "Cash Bonus"
* Then on the red tab "Redeem Reward"

Please note that items on your account are paid based on the available balance. The running balance that reflects online shows in blue. The blue balance is a link that will open up a box when you click on it. In the box, you will be provided with your available balance and the amount of funds that were not available at that point in time. This means that there are deposited funds being held, check card authorizations and/or PIN based transactions outstanding against this balance. We apologize for any misunderstanding.

Upon review of your account, I see that there was an outstanding authorization of $15.33 being held against your available balance on 9/06. There were items presented for payment that same business day which exceeded your available balance. Therefore, there were overdraft charges assessed the following business day.

The following transaction(s) exceeded your available balance on 9/06 resulting in the overdraft fee(s) on 9/07.
....
When an account remains overdrawn for four consecutive business days, there will be a $7.00 daily continuous overdraft fee charged each day until your account has been brought to a zero or positive balance.

Upon review of your account, our records show that your account became overdrawn on 9/06. The continuous overdraft fee was charged on 9/11, which was the fourth business day.

We appreciate your business, but we will not be refunding any fees to your account at this time.

The best way to avoid situations such as this is to keep a register of all items processing through your account. We provide you with several tools to assist you in maintaining your account register, including Internet Banking, and 24 Hour Telephone Banking. What we are unable to provide you with are the amounts of checks or other withdrawals that remain outstanding on your account. It is your responsibility to record each transaction you make in order to know your exact available balance at all times.

Please make sure that your deposited funds are available prior to authorizing payments from the
account and that your available balance is sufficient to cover your outstanding check card authorizations
as well as other payments you authorize from the account.

We value you as a customer and hope that you will reconsider you banking relationship with us, we are
aware that it is your choice as to who you would like to bank with. Please let us know if there is anything additional that we can assist you with.

This lady seems to think that explaining the fundamentals of banking and basic web browsing to me like I'm a 5-year-old is a suitable replacement for the nearly-$200 they just decided to pilfer from my account. My reply:

To Whom It May Concern:

A few things about your response that I would like to talk about:

1. I would appreciate it if you would not patronize me. While I realize it's part of what your job is to hand out such advice in a situation like this, I'm a big boy; I know how to manage my money. I managed to secure funds for a year-long exchange program to Australia, and up until this point I've had less than a handful overdrafts with you.
2. I would further appreciate you not to talk down to me. Again, while I realize it it is also part of your job, I am studying website and network design at the University of Washington; I have designed, built, tested, run, and maintained my own websites. I am aware of how to navigate one, and I am also aware when one is working incorrectly. It seems that the problem with your site has conveniently been resolved. While that is a good thing on the whole, it makes my position somewhat less defensible. However, I have included screenshots I took before that describe what your system was doing.
3. Please, listen to what I'm actually telling you.
I still hold that it is your company that is at fault. I will recount my story here again to make sure that you understand it. First, let me walk you through the problems I was having with your website. I would go to the main page - www.usbank.com - in order to log in to my online banking account.

At this point, please understand that the website is the only real way I have to communicate with you conveniently. I am in Melbourne Australia as an exchange student, will be until December, have been since March. You may contact my university for confirmation of this if you so wish. I cannot visit a branch to take care of my banking. The mobile phone I have purchased here can not dial out of the country, and using public telephones/phone cards is a hassle and potentially expensive. Not to mention the fact I don't have access to the proper documents with the proper account numbers to confirm my identity with someone on the phone unless I were to get them on the website. And if I could use the website that way, the issue of calling someone becomes moot.

After entering logon information and clicking "Log In" . . . I would get redirected to another login page. Slightly annoying, and a little bewildering, but I would just log in again and get things moving. It would then send me to the main online banking area. Clicking on my account info to see the transaction statements normally worked just fine. However, clicking on the "Contact Us", "Account and Reward Info", and a number of other links would redirect me to an alert page that would tell me that I should update my bookmarks, because the resource I was trying to locate was no longer at that location. This was somewhat more frustrating, but normally I didn't really *need* to access these. It should be noted I was having these issues before I even arrived in Australia, and was still having them up until the day I supposedly overdrafted. (Please see the attachment for screenshots.)

On that particular day, I needed to withdraw from an ATM. I knew that if I did, I would be overdrafting (I did keep meticulous track of my expenses, you see). And if you'll examine the account closely, you'll see that one ATM withdrawal is the only thing that would cause offense. Before withdrawing from the ATM, I went to online banking in an attempt to move some of the reward money I'd earned from using my credit card to my account so as NOT to overdraft. I was given the above error. I attempted to contact you to make you aware of the situation and that I would not be able to avoid making the ATM withdrawal that day, but if you could please transfer reward funds to compensate, I would appreciate it. Again, I was given the same error.

I then remembered that when I was signing up for my checking account, your signature Five Star Service was explained to me, and the man behind the desk mentioned something about proactively taking steps to protect your members. At that point I said to myself, quite logically I'd like to think: "Well, I've clearly got the money to make this transaction. They'll see that, and they'll compensate for it." Really, when you claim to have such exemplary service, it really oughtn't be such a stretch to think that you'd give your members a helping hand like that. Especially when I told the people at the University of Washington branch that I would be out of the country for awhile. I know that American Express does those kinds of things for their customers, and I've heard that Bank of America does similar things. Why should you be any different?

But you were. I realize the process was probably automated, but from my point of view you did not extend that helping hand. You decided not to care about me, as a person, as a member, or even as a customer. Despite the fact that I had the proper credit to cover the transaction, your bank took the action that would injure me the most, without any review, second thought, or notification. Me having trust in your company should not have resulted in nearly $200 of my money missing and hours of my time wasted writing emails. That kind of trust should be rewarded and not punished. On top of this, when notified of the situation, your bank responded with absolute indignance. Instead of reversing the charges and helping out your customer (honestly, what's $200 to you one way or another?), you spun it to make me look like the bad guy, and did what would make you the most profit.

I find your actions appalling and I am very frankly disheartened by this whole experience. If I was prepared to terminate business with you on my first email, I'm utterly bewildered how you would think a condescending message filled with inflexibility and greed would make me change my mind. Had you done the right thing, I might have.

All of that aside, your company is clearly in the wrong on this issue; had I been the irresponsible party . . . I would own up to it. I wouldn't punish you for my mistakes. All I'm asking is for you to do the right thing.

Their reply:

Thank you for your response. I apologize for the tone of the previous response that you received. Please note that U.S. Bank is unable to open email attachments, due to our heightened security. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you. The bookmark message that you are receiving occurs if you are accessing our website through a bookmark or favorite, or if you are accessing our website through a search engine or through software (such as Quicken or Microsoft Money.) If you have a bookmark or favorite, please remove your favorite and login to the account from www.usbank.com. Instructions for doing so are as follows: Delete favorite for Internet Explorer 6.0 for PC: - Click Favorites, then Organize Favorites. - Your list of favorite web pages will appear. - Select the Internet Banking favorite or bookmark to highlight it. - Click the Delete button, then Close. Delete bookmark for Netscape 7.x for PC: - Click Bookmarks, then Manage Bookmarks. - A new window will open. Select the Internet Banking bookmark by clicking on it. - Click Edit then select Delete from the pull down menu. - Click the X in the upper right corner of the window. If the problem continues after you have deleted your bookmark, this error may indicate your browser's cache needs to be cleared. Occasionally, when viewing the web site, your browser will display information from memory, rather than display what is actually viewable online at that point in time. Instructions for clearing your browser's cache are as follows: Clear the cache for Internet Explorer 6.0 for PC: - Click Tools, then Internet Options, General Tab. - In the Temporary Internet Files section, click Delete Files and Delete Cookies. - In the History section, click on Clear History. - Click OK. - Return to the web page and hold down the Control key while you click Refresh to display the page properly. Clear the cache in Netscape 7.x for Macintosh and PC: - Click on the Netscape menu from the toolbar. - From the drop down menu select Preferences. - Click on the arrow point next to Advanced (this will open additional options). - Click on Cache. - Click Clear Memory Cache and Clear Disk Cache - Click OK to close Preferences. Please also ensure that you are always accessing our website by typing www.usbank.com into your browser's address bar. Accessing the site in another way will prompt the bookmark message. The double login that you are experiencing when accessing the account is normally caused due to browser settings. Please ensure that you have the default browser settings for the browser that you are using as this will ensure that you will only receive the first login screen. Per your request, I have redeemed the $25.00 that was available for your Cash Bonus rewards. This amount has been credited to your account. Unfortunately, we are not able to reverse the overdraft fees assessed as they were not assessed due to bank error. Please let us know if you have any other questions or need further assistance.

Clearly . . . they are just not listening. I have no intention of shutting up. But I haven't quite thought of what to say next. I might just all out shit-fit on them. But who knows.

Although, I'm really really happy today. Because I did a good thing. I found out a bit ago that my good friend Jodi has been diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and she's been going for Chemo and all that nasty stuff . . . and she's never felt more scared or alone in her life. And we all know how I am, by this point. I can't not help. Especially when it's a good friend in need. I need to do something or it just doesn't feel right. I feel like I've failed them in some way.

Well, despite being 10,000 miles away, unable to offer hugs or rides to the hospital, I found a way. I contributed. And it'll sound really silly to you, but it's not. I bought her a wig. We call it her hair. It seems like such a small thing . . . but people define themselves by how they look . . . she's been especially self-concious about the thought of going around bald. She just got it today . . . and I don't think I've ever seen her so happy. She took pictures to show me how it looks and she's just grinning from ear to ear, and saying thank you every other word or so.

And I did that. I brought joy into someone's life by doing a simple little thing. I like that. I want more of that. Grace should let me do things like that for her. :)

Aussie Doozy of the Day:
Listen up, people. If you're gonna work at McDonald's or in some dead-end retail . . . work in Australia. This guy I know makes $20/hr asking people if they'd like fries with that. Granted that's less in American dollars, but sure as hell beats $7.50/hr. That's the advantage of having under 20 million people in the whole country, I suppose . . .

Ebb and Flow

This past week has been a week off. But don't worry, friends, that doesn't mean that it's been a boring week. On the contrary, I have quite a bit to talk about in today's installment. Hunker down ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. There are many fun and exciting stories to tell if you care to listen in.

The week's events have been like one big carousel that always stops at my ICS huge, enterprise-level website project that I've been working on. It's seriously a beast. I dunno how we're gonna get this done. I dunno how, but we are. I'm gonna get tons of shit done tomorrow for it so that all I've gotta do next week is testing and CSS work, and then all of us together will build the main servlet for the backend. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, all we need to do now is get there.

I know that all flew over most of your heads, but it's been a quintessential part of my life for the last several weeks now, so . . . it goes in my blog. Tough noogies.

Another stop on this whacked-out ride is the constant pain in my left foot. I . . . really don't even know how it started. Tuesday night my left big toe just started hurting. It felt like a cramp, so I assumed that's just what it was. A cramp. A boring, happens-all-the-time cramp. I went to bed and the next day it was still bothering me. It wasn't so much the toe as it was the underside of the knuckle of it, like right on the side of it toward the inside of the foot. It hurt so much I couldn't walk on the area. My friend Jane figured that it was probably a good idea to get it looked at if I had trouble walking on it, so she kindly offered to drive me to the La Trobe Medical Center.

The doctor looked at it and he deduced that it was probably a bruised nerve in the metatarsals, or maybe a swollen piece of bone. Either way, the diagnosis was metatarsalgia. The prognosis? Keep off it. It'll go away. Well, gee, thanks Doc, that was $50 well spent. I probably would've ran on the treadmill for an hour if you hadn't told me that. Something tells me it's gonna take awhile to heal because, well . . . I've gotta walk around. Now I've got a limp, and it's funny cuz I can't limp around without reminding myself of House.

Speaking of which, this week's episode was stellar. It's been awhile since the real humor of that show has been brought to bare, and it was firing on all cylinders. I love how the writers know to use all that humor as a way to break down the audience's defenses so that the touching moments in the story don't have to be over-the-top to be effective, like the one at the end. If you've seen the episode, you'll know what I mean.

While the limp has hindered my mobility slightly, I have not let it hinder my headlong pursuit of Grace. Thanks goodness because, even with a slight setback on Thursday (I'll get to that), I feel like this could really be going somewhere.

Before I really get into the goings on between us this week, I'd like to take a moment or two to wax emotional. Ok, I've had crushes before, but I haven't been this seriously hooked on a girl since high school. She's just *really* cool. Everyone I talk to always says the nicest things about her, she's beautiful, smart, motivated, and most importantly . . . I think she sees me for me, and actually likes that I'm a nice guy. I just can't get the girl out of my head you know? It's at the point where if this doesn't happen . . . yeah, it's gonna suck. But not at the point where it'll suck so much that'll it'll take days out of my life. Everyone I've talked to about this (that being limited to Jane, Sarah, Emma and James) also seems to think that we'd make a good couple. Decide for yourself:
Even I have to agree . . . that's the kind of picture one could put on your mantelpiece or in your office.

Anyway, so, last weekend, before she and almost everyone else who lives on campus took off for mom and dad's we were talking about when we met at the Intercollege night and how it sucked that the only picture we had together featured Rowie giving me bunny ears. She said that we'd definitely have other chances to get a better picture. I figured this was kind of hinting at the same fact that I was hinting at: that I wanted to hang out again. Out of nowhere she mentioned that she was coming back to campus to work her shift at the library on Thursday and that we could hang out. This was looking better all the time.

Fast forward to Wednesday. I was chatting in main chat . . . when all the sudden she starts chatting there, too. I PMed her, bewildered. Turns out she decided to come back a day early because she was bored at her parents place. Later on that night a group of us got together to go out and get some groceries and some beer and stuff. It was Harsh, Sarah, Ashy, Grace, and I. Now, I had some inklings that maybe Grace liked me. So I was paying very close attention to what she did and said.

So let's start keeping score, shall we? Sarah and Grace come over from Glenn in Sarah's car. Sarah is in the driver's seat . . . Grace is in the back. This is pretty strange, but, as usual, I get the bitch seat, so I'm sitting right up next to her. Could she have planned it that way? Maybe. More than likely wishful thinking, but to early to say either way. Either way, I'm sitting about as close as one can sit to a person and during the drive over I make her laugh and giggle several times. I'll count these all as positives.

We get to the supermarket and all pile out of the car like clowns. I limp along and Grace stays right there by my side. She knows Ashy and Grace, but only met me once. I figured that I would've had to go over to her, but no. We walked from one closed grocery store to another open grocery store, and all the while she just stayed right there with me, walking side by side, talking and laughing and getting to know each other. I count this is a big positive.

The next thing I pick up on is much more subtle. We walked in to the supermarket. All Grace and Sarah were there for was alcohol. I was there for a few non-alcoholic items. These involved us going in separate directions. Now, everyone knows this little hard-to-describe moment. It's that moment when you're talking to someone you want to stay close to and keep talking to, and they have to break off suddenly and go somewhere else. And it catches you offguard. But you don't want to be caught offguard, so you overcompensate for it. You know what I'm talking about, I know you do; we've all done it. Well, she pulled that little double-take as I broke off to go get groceries. This is another positive.

On the way back we're in the backseat. Grace volunteers for the middle this time, and I'm on her left and Harsh is on her right. Harsh, Grace, and I are all little enough to sit fairly comfortably. However, I notice that you could fit a whole arm between Harsh and Grace, yet Grace is sitting so close to me her elbow is more or less in my lap. Whether a conscious act or not, it's a good sign. Another positive.

We all got back to Chisholm and decide to go up to tower one where Harsh lives, and Ashy more or less has adopted it as a home, so we'll say it's where she lives, too. I had plans to work hard on my ICS assignment tonight because I thought I'd be spending the evening hanging out with Grace the next night. So I make it known I'm thinking about heading out. Protests all around. Grace not the least of which. She wants me to stay awhile. I count this as another positive.

The final one is something that is also very subtle. At one point I got up to go to the bathroom. I came back, and Harsh is sitting where I was, as the table has shuffled a bit. Now, on the bench, there's an empty seat at the end, Harsh, and Grace. The empty seat is the obvious choice to sit, but Grace slides over a bit anyway to make room. I didn't wanna seem ridiculously obvious about liking her, so I thanked her and just sat in the obvious place. But this is another positive.

So that's no less than 7 positive signs in one night. That ain't half bad. At this point, I think it's pretty clear that we're more-or-less keen on each other. But I want this to happen naturally. We're still feeling the situation out. But here's the kicker: we're still on for tomorrow night. Even better, Ashy, Sarah, and I are gonna go bug Grace at work, walk her back, and then we'd all hang out and have a quiet little drinking party. PERFECT. A spark or two flew on Wednesday, then on Thursday I'd strike while the iron was hot, so to speak, and it would have been the PERFECT opportunity to let the deal seal itself naturally, with both of us on the same page. Or at the very least get a lot closer to that goal.

Then Ashy had to fuck it all up.

This girl . . . I just don't like her anymore. She's just an attention whore. No, she's just a whore. Or at the very least a sex addict. In any case, she decided it'd be a good idea to use her MSN name to broadcast to the world how much sex she wasn't getting. It started "4 days". And then she'd continue to count up. Like, 4 fuckin' days without sex was the absolute end of the world, and each day afterward the MSN message would unveil a new level of agony about not getting laid that day. It's repulsive. Desperation is a foul-smelling perfume. I'm reading this and, just as I delete her from my MSN out of pure disgust (because I simply don't wanna read that shit anymore), I think to myself: "And I messed around with this girl?!? What the FUCK was I thinking?"

Case in point, as I write this, she posts this in main chat:

[04:54] lahdidah
[04:54] s
[04:54] e
[04:54] x

Any questions?

You're probably wondering to yourself how Ashy managed to sabotage this for me. Sarah, Ashy, and I are sitting in Sarah's Glenn flat at about 9 at night. Downstairs are 5 guys I don't really know playing poker. Apparently, one of these guys is the latest guy that Ashy wants to fuck. I know this because Sarah keeps teasing her about it. Anyway, so, at about 9:30 we go to the library. We bump into Grace and embarrass her a little, then wait outside like good little soldiers for her to get off work so we can all follow the Yellow Brick Road home.

Ashy is complaining about her stomach being full of alcohol, meanwhile. As if that's anything new. Catching Ashy sober is like catching George W. Bush being eloquent. She's a tank, though, and she'll pull through.

Up until getting back to Glenn, things are going great. Grace looks beautiful, as usual. She's walking close to me. She notices my limp is still there and asks about it. Showing concern is always a good sign. Not that I was really trying for the sympathy vote but . . . hey, if you got it, flaunt it, right? Grace heads back to her flat to change and stuff after work, and we tell her to meet us at Sarah's in a bit and we'll hang out and drink lightly and just have some casual fun. Ashy starts cutting up cheese and tomatoes and laying out crackers on plates. And I think it's nice. That's a cool thing to do - good for you Ashy. It'll make things cozy, and that's always nice when hanging out with close friends, the desire of one or more of them to be more than that notwithstanding.

Here's where Ashy fucks up my night. She grabs this stuff, and then announces that we're going downstairs. She doesn't ask us our opinion of this. She doesn't bother waiting for the guest we just invited over. Hell, she doesn't even bother to ask the guys if they want people interrupting their poker game. But that doesn't matter. Ashy's got an agenda (or, more appropriately, a libido), and she's in charge.

So I begrudgingly follow behind Sarah, who follows Ashy, who no doubt follows the scent of fresh prey, and we unceremoniously barge in on the poker game. Doogie, the only guy I know and have only met very briefly, once, looks less than amused. The other 4 default to indifference because we came with food.

Here's why I have a problem with this scenario, other than the inherent rudeness. I am already a little more tipsy than I'd like to be. That's my own fault, I mixed my own drinks a tad too strong. But now, I'm uncomfortable. I'm around people I don't know. I'm in a place I don't want to be in. I don't even have a fucking chair to sit in. I have to find some comfortable way to sit on the ground without putting any real weight on my foot. And I'm pissed off at Ashy. A long story short: I'm not in my element. This is no way to wax romantic. I'm also uncomfortable because, while I know Grace isn't interested in her in the slightest, Doogie is sure to hit on her.

Basically, this is the situation where one starts to panic about things not going right, and tends to overcompensate as a result. I just felt all my cool and confidence draining out of me. I won't walk through any more details because there's really nothing left to say. Other than a good picture, nothing happened. The flame of the night before was allowed to dwindle, but hopefully not die. Although she did offer a hug when I left.

I'd really like that to be the end of the story, but it's not. After we all go to our respective homes, Ashy PMs me in main chat on DC. She's kinda drunk, kinda lonely. She wants to come over. Now I . . . I have no doubt in my mind about where she's going with this. But I let her come over anyway. Why? I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to see if I was right, give her a chance to exonerate herself of the slut label. Maybe I wanted to see how my willpower would hold up. I don't know. And it doesn't matter, either way, she came over.

It started much like the last time. Lots and lots of hugs. Long, elaborate ones. I simply stood there and tolerated it. I didn't offer the hugs, I just hugged in return. Then she sits me down and gives me a massage. I hate to say it . . . but fuck was that a good massage. Seriously, she could've just sat there and did that all evening. And that's the mindset she wanted me in. Because shortly after that . . . she started making out with me. At first . . . I went with it. Hey, it's been six months since anyone's even touched me - I'm allowed to enjoy the attention no matter who it's from or why I'm getting it, even if only for a moment or two.

You'll be happy to know I did slowly come to my senses and handled the situation very diplomatically. I very slowly just stopped returning her advances until she got the hint to go. And I sent her packing. No more was said of it, nor do I think any more will ever be said of it. It would have been so easy just to throw all cares out the window and just say . . . to hell with it. But I didn't. Adult life isn't about the easy path. Nothing meaningful ever comes with ease. The struggle is what gives meaning. And I wasn't willing to do this without meaning. Never mind the fact that she's the one who ruined a night with someone I've struggled for.

The good part, though, is that I already know that how much Grace likes me could be a moot point. I'm leaving in 2 months. It may simply be that Grace isn't willing to get involved in a relationship that has an expiration date. Neither am I, really. But she's worth the try. You never know what can happen in two months. You just never know.

But even without her . . . there's still hope. I have a lot of friends here who all say that not only them, but the people they know that I've met in passing all think I'm awesome. They loved meeting me and they talk fondly of me. That's a really good feeling. I can't remember the last time I felt that way. Jane, Sarah, Trevor . . . James and Emma . . . Richie . . . you guys are fucking awesome. Seriously, you people in particular have a way of always making me feel like family.

And it's because of these people that I realize I have other choices. Here, I'll give you an example. Here's a picture that was taken on Intercollege night (and is really funny). That tall drink of water, drunkenly pulling a drunken me right into her breast . . . is Rose. Clearly, she's very attractive. She's a really free-spirited girl. Pretty much the exact kind of girl who has no interest in me whatsoever. Ever. I met her when I was hanging out with Jane on that weekend before I went with her to that pub music night. The best part is she has a great sense of humor, so she probably found this picture funnier than almost anyone else. I remember talking to Jane about it and how Trevor said that I should find out if Rose is single. Turns out she is, but, as I told Jane, a girl like her wouldn't be interested in me. Jane told me that I should be so sure . . . it was indeed very possible that she could be.

And then, on top of that, it seems another of Sarah's friends, a blonde girl named Jak, has taken a liking to me. On Thursday she called Sarah and the phone was passed around, and she asked to speak to me, and we talked a bit. And she randomly mentioned that I was "such a great guy". I'm not really saying all of this to toot my own horn. I'm saying all this as a way to convince myself that I really am a special person. And that it's ok to learn to love myself as I am.

It's also a way to help me relax about the situation with Grace. I tend to let myself get uptight about stuff like that - the waiting drives me nuts. But if I want any shot at this going well, I need to stay cool, calm, and collected. I need to firmly believe what will be will be, and that if I don't get her, there are other fish in the sea that are also great catches, and are able to be caught.

At the very least, perhaps this . . . whatever it is, will bleed over when I get back into America. Maybe . . . just maybe . . .

Aussie Doozy of the Day:
Their word for 'dinner' is 'tea' . . . which I think is just silly. First of all, almost no one drinks tea during it, and you can certainly 'have tea' and not mean eating in the slightest. Nevermind that tea time is traditionally in the early afternoon as an after lunch snack.

Sprung Again

Oh man, I'm in trouble. Murphy's Law is fucking me over again. Seriously, this is not supposed to happen. Not now.

*sigh* I was at the Centurion competition last night and, like just about everyone else, I had a good go at it and unabashedly got pretty damn drunk. I managed to get through 52 shots of beer before the carbonation started getting too much for me. And all this whilst I was dressed up as a typical emo rockstar, eyeliner included. Yes, I have pictures to prove all of this. And of course about an hour later I had another beer for good measure.

Then we moved over to Glenn college for the Intercollege Rock Party, and were awfully surprised when they were playing techno and house and dance music. I'd go into all of that but there's really not much more to be said. It's not the big story here. Despite my heinously drunken state, alcohol isn't why I'm in trouble.

I met Grace. *sigh* And I like her. Like, really like her. And we hugged. And took a very adorable picture (minus someone being child-like and giving me bunny ears). And just . . . ugh, she's sooo cute. I just wish I hadn't been painfully drunk. Before I met her, I knew she was a cool girl and all, but I could've easily gone either way with it without another moment's thought. Now . . .

Damnit. This is NOT supposed to happen, not right now. I'm two months from leaving; I can't ask her out. That's just not fair. I mean, even if it all worked out, we'd be getting to the peak of our twitterpated stage right as I was leaving. It would lead to broken hearts. Even if all that were not so, I really don't wanna be like, the 20th person to ask her out this week.

UGH. Why do I do this to myself? Even more antagonizing is she might actually like me back. She seemed genuinely excited today about meeting me and she expressed interest in meeting again in the near future. All of which could be something, but also could be nothing. I don't know which I hope to be true more. The question is: should I put it all out there; should I risk my heart getting crushed for this girl? A better question: can I really like her and not?

Aussie Doozy of the Day:
(Note, this does not link in with the above post, so don't read into this you sick bastards.) Did you know that, statistically, Australian women are the most likely to put out on a first date?