Impromptu long weekend

So I ended up taking Friday off, to traipse up the Sea to Sky and spend the evening in my underwear as a result of a Kings game gone wonderfully awry. Instead of spending Friday earning money, I slept off a hangover, took good-natured abuse with a good-natured "fuck-off" and careened back downtown for six.

Last night proved to be bizarre, and the twisting and turning of those events left me feeling pleased and somewhat uncomfortable. We arrived uncomfortably, weaving through foliage into a quiet scene. Satisfied with cups of beer, I let names float past me and settled into the evening. My first surprise. She looked so familiar, turns out that I had changed more than she had, or perhaps my memory for faces was better. It had, after all, been ten years. So we chatted and exchanged some names, some tales. She left me feeling old, feeling grown.

Let me first say this, that for all intents and purposes we are not dating, together or in any way involved with each other... except when we are. Regardless, I am not comfortable with Public Displays. And after I put the brakes on, things seem to have slowed. I can't explain why I suddenly felt that I needed to end things, but I did. So. Even though I am there with him, I am not attached, and despite us holding hands, I am not with him. There.

So the next arrivals... well, my old friend who, in his words, I "hung out with for two weeks and never spoke to again" back when I was about fifteen years old. Fourteen. Regardless, it was a long time ago. His companion I had met, he didn't remember me either. I remembered him. Later I admitted that my recollection had a lot to do with having thought he was cute when we'd met. Regardless, we spent the evening talking and eventually I obtained a (hopefully not misspelled) email address. Fine. But I couldn't shake this guilt feeling. And that made me angry. Because we are such a small world out here in the confines of the west side, and the last thing I need is to know people who know people who know me... if you get my drift. And yet there I was, feeling guilty for a non-attachment because I was flirting with someone. It gets worse.

So I get the spins, and decide I want to leave. He offers me a ride. So off we go, but in the car he says "what's next" and before I can say 'I'm-loaded' we are off to pick up weed. I get turned on by the equipment and get a whirlwind tour. We both wish to be alone. Its palpable. I feel guilty and at the very least strange, not wanting this to get out of hand and for god's sake not wanting him to find out that there is tension. But being spinny I was sure that I was out of control, sure that it was visible to anyone with eyes.

And of course, I shouldn't have smoked, but I did. And then lay down with my feet next to him. Somehow he was holding my feet. Not in a creepy way, in a cute, sweet sort of way. And I prayed that nobody noticed he was doing it. Then I fell asleep watching DanceMix 93 videos. And they made fun of me. There was a blanket involved and my hand being held somehow from over top. The whole evening was bizarre in a nice way.

Then I had my guilt to deal with. Which was interesting. I've come full circle, and that sortof makes me happy. Its good to know that I am finally out of the proverbial woods and back into... well, if not into something good, something better.