I figure I should divulge a little of my personal life here and tell everybody that I had a bad week. I had just emerged out of the final puddles of a monsoon relationship, and as good as that is for me, it still was disheartening. The last week had been a bad one for me, in regards to thoughts of myself. It did, however, give me a fresh view of everything.
My weekend was busy. Last I left you fellows, I was at various going away parties for my friends Carissa and Stephen. I said my final goodbyes to them at a family party Carissa had put on Friday night, then joined my good (but often busy) friends Murray and Brendan to a trip to their cabin.
Everything about the cabin was ridiculous. At one point, there were five guys sitting around a dinner table playing cards dressed up as whatever "the music made us feel like". There was what Murray and Brendan's father described as a motley crew around that table: a swimmer, greek god, grandmother, cowboy, and Rod Stewart.
It was a fun, non-stop weekend, ending with Murray and I paddle/sail-boating a windsurf rig into shore from the middle of the lake. Yes, I was the one who marooned it.
The weekend's events made me look at my situation differently, and I feel better about a lot of it. Of course, I'll never speak to her again, but more and more that feels like her loss as opposed to mine. Everything's back on track now.
It was a shame though, it took me until the time I got home to realize this. That's not to say I was in a pissy mood the entire time, but that there were occasional reminders of my situation.
I went to an indoor game tonight and played in net for the second half. I stopped a few good shots, including one breakaway. I let in three, but we won 5-3. I tried hard in spite of my injury, and again didn't re-injure it. I'm giving it about a week and a half to heal fully if everything goes alright, and I will be playing again tomorrow.
I've found my style involves diving on the ball a lot. Remind me to tape up my elbows, fingers, and knees tomorrow.
My weekend was busy. Last I left you fellows, I was at various going away parties for my friends Carissa and Stephen. I said my final goodbyes to them at a family party Carissa had put on Friday night, then joined my good (but often busy) friends Murray and Brendan to a trip to their cabin.
Everything about the cabin was ridiculous. At one point, there were five guys sitting around a dinner table playing cards dressed up as whatever "the music made us feel like". There was what Murray and Brendan's father described as a motley crew around that table: a swimmer, greek god, grandmother, cowboy, and Rod Stewart.
It was a fun, non-stop weekend, ending with Murray and I paddle/sail-boating a windsurf rig into shore from the middle of the lake. Yes, I was the one who marooned it.
The weekend's events made me look at my situation differently, and I feel better about a lot of it. Of course, I'll never speak to her again, but more and more that feels like her loss as opposed to mine. Everything's back on track now.
It was a shame though, it took me until the time I got home to realize this. That's not to say I was in a pissy mood the entire time, but that there were occasional reminders of my situation.
I went to an indoor game tonight and played in net for the second half. I stopped a few good shots, including one breakaway. I let in three, but we won 5-3. I tried hard in spite of my injury, and again didn't re-injure it. I'm giving it about a week and a half to heal fully if everything goes alright, and I will be playing again tomorrow.
I've found my style involves diving on the ball a lot. Remind me to tape up my elbows, fingers, and knees tomorrow.
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