that perfect hand…

In Ocean's 11, Danny said that "the house always wins. If you play long enough, never change the stakes, then the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big… and then, you take the house." Here's the hand I've been dealt, sometimes it's risky and sometimes it's safe, but all the time… it's perfect. It's mine.


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she’s just not that into me

There is this girl that I know from high school that works somewhere [for the sake of her privacy in case she ever stumbles onto my blog] at UVic. When we were in high school, we had spare together, a couple classes together, hung out with some of the same people, and even played on the same ball team [too much information?]. So naturally when I saw her out of the corner of my eye, working, I had to run over and say HEY! I mean, I haven’t seen her since prom or the year after grad, since my parents left so I was super fired up about going to chat with her. I ran out of my class to where she was and like a total fool, WAVED at her and said “HEY [insert name]! How’s it going? Wow it’s been forever” with a big fat grin on my face. Much to my heartbreak this was her response:

[insert blank stare]…

[insert furrowed brow, in a type of angst]…

[insert the “i-don’t-know-why-you’re-talking-to-me-but-i-will-do-this-to-
acknowledge-you smirk]…

FOR REAL! I swear, if I was completely daft I would believe she didn’t recognize me… but the contempt that brimmed from her eyes down her cheeks to her mouth and ultimately, I am assuming, reached her fists [that would’ve punched me if we were elsewhere].

THERE IS NO WAY SHE DIDN’T RECOGNIZE ME!

In my hysteria of seeing an old “friend” I completely lost my composure, then lost my dignity as everyone around there was witnessing this would-be joyous reunion of old friends.

[insert my head falling]…

[insert colour into my cheeks that never blush]…

[insert psycho babble that I stammered to my friends on why the reunion I ran out on them for lasted only 14.25 seconds]…

Well, this happened initially about a month ago. I see her every [one day out of the week.. I won’t say which at again, risk of her reading this blog] and it’s still the same thing. She is not pleading a very convincing case of not knowing me as she pleads a very convincing case that she hates me.

I’ve spent 4 weeks explicating my brain, pouring over my yearbook [that she signed with a very wonderful passage] and rereading old journals [not really] and I cannot for the life of me figure out what I did to deserve her absolute disgust.

I guess she’s just not that into me.

[Lesson learned: I wasn’t as cool as I thought I was in high school.]

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