Damn computer froze on me in previous posting of this entry, so I am trying again.

I am back in North Bay Rock City as of about noon today. The trip up wasn't bad, Mike, myself and my dad came up with Arwyn and all my Christmas junk (and yes there is lots of it). It was a fairly uneventful trip, although we ran into people I knew at the Tim Horton's in Huntsville, of all places.

New Year's was pretty good. I saw "Catch Me If You Can" with Dad and Mike; and I enjoyed, despite the Spielberg/Dicaprio factor. Mike and I killed alien scum in cooperative play Halo and fell asleep, before waking up to the sweet sight of an all day Star Trek Original Series movie marathon on Space. My Captain Quantum action figure was sad that he was at home in an M&M meatbox.

The other night was not so fun, though. It started out well enough--a birthday party for a friend from work, held in the [small] upstairs of a local bar. It was good--good food, good friends (even some people from my first Sainte Marie summer), good music...everything. Until the hostess pulled me aside and said, "the bartender is yelling at me because we're at capacity right now. More people have showed up than I thought, and some people still aren't here. If [other friend] or more people come, will you leave?"

I couldn't believe it. In a lot of ways, I still can't believe it. I managed to nod, stammer out an "that's fine, don't worry about it" and told Mike that I wanted to leave. He looked surprised, finished his beer, and we left. I didn't tell him until we were in the car, and he was a little mad about that, because I managed to engineer things so that he wouldn't be able to go back and tell anyone off.

Being told that my date and myself were basically second-class guests hurt a lot more than maybe it should've. I don't know. The guest of honour is someone I think of as a friend, and it hurt that the hostess (regardless of our past differences) decided that I was the most expendable of all the party guests, even though I RSVPed at least a week earlier, if not more. How rude can you get? For a while I was mad at myself for being such a doormat and just taking it, and not telling the hostess where to go. In the cold morning light though, I know that I was the better person and that I did the right thing by leaving quietly and not making a scene to ruin a friend's birthday party.

Tammy's annual year-end Elmvale grad party thing was last night, and it was a pretty sedate affair. Very few people that I was really close to in high school were there (read: one) so I felt kind of awkward, but it was still a vaguely amusing time. The one person I did see was worth it, though, as I hadn't seen her since high school. She is a fellow 80s and Crowded House buff, though her true passion is Bon Jovi.

It's strange to see people now because everyone's starting to graduate and get real jobs and married/engaged/babied/etc. If I do my full five years here I'll be one of the last to 'grow up'.

But I didn't even have the usual wave of self-pitying nostalgia...definitely a good thing.

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