Zubby Newsletter – November 15, 1999

Dumb weekend, I’ll attempt to describe.

I moan and bitch about not having a social life and the fact that I never go out. That’s all well and good but if my social continues the way it tends to in Calgary, I’d rather not have a social life at all.

A couple friends invited me out to go to a club to dance and drink. Sounds great, right? Good time, right? Try, load of crap.

First, I went to Jordie’s house and found out that I’m horrifically allergic to his roommate’s cats. Like, “my lungs are filling with fluid”- type allergic. Hack hack cough choke. No problem, I’ll just stand on the balcony while everyone else drinks inside. God knows it’s only -12 out here. Luckily, we got half decently drunk and went to a club.

I really enjoy going dancing at clubs. Call me weird, but I enjoy it. The clubs I go to in Toronto are weird and wonderful and I’m spoiled because I know people that go there regularly and it feels kind of nice. Building that up again from scratch is not fun and I don’t have the desire.

This club was packed, total sardine-style. No room to move, let alone dance. The music was okay, but how the hell are you supposed to enjoy it? Lots of jerks and people who probably would have kicked my ass in high school. People constantly shoving to get past me to go somewhere else. Oh yeah, and my friends are lost in the crowd, rarely to be seen. Great.

3 hours later, I’m sober, pissed off and back out in the cold. My friends are claiming that they met people there and had a great night, but that’s impossible because:
• The music was too loud for conversation.
• The times I did see them they looked as bored as me.

So, they’re full of crap. Just a bragging contest at the end of the night. One-upmanship central (“I met a girl who was from Brazil. Oh yeah, there was this chick” etc. etc.) Wonderful. Not my bag really.

Call me a freak, but I DON’T THINK MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE REVOLVES AROUND THE NEED TO GET LAID! I know I know, now I have to hand in my male membership card. I’m obviously a retard or something. I just don’t see why every action has to be about guys setting themselves up for a one-night-stand or meaningless sex. I just want to go out and have a good night dancing, drinking and hanging out. Is that too much to ask? Why can’t I do that here?

I attempted to explain this briefly on our walk back to Jordie’s and I got ridiculed by the boys. Apparently, I was just making excuses for my inability to hit on women like crazy. Was I? No. Sorry, I don’t walk everywhere crotch-first.

This is the best social life I can muster here. I spent money I could have used elsewhere and wasted time I could have been more productive with. THAT’s why I don’t have a social life here. Very frustrating.

The rest of the weekend was better. I finished up my writing submissions, sent them out and hung out at the studio. I backed-up a bunch of my files at the office. Conveniently, the hard drive crashed about 8 hours later. I lucked out.

Oh yeah, Pokemon the Movie made more in 5 days than Iron Giant did in its entire run. There’s no justice, folks…this will teach the studios that cheap crap is better than quality films. Be afraid.

So, I’m crossing my fingers for tonight. I have a friend at the Calgary Herald (newspaper) who’s put me on the Guest List because Big Sugar is in town playing. Good band, hoping the atmosphere is equally as good. Wish me luck.

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