Beers Buds Burgers and Trophies

Beers, buds, burgers and football.  Ain’t nothin’ better than having friends over for a feast of football and ground up dead cows on the bbq.  It’s the first time I’ve actually had people over since I moved.  Can’t believe it took me so long.  Even better, they really liked my place.  Spent virtually all of the non-football watching time out on my balcony watching the view pass by.

Even better, the Riders upset Montreal in Montreal.  Been saying they would all week.  No one believed me.  I’m now owed two pints of beer and I won my week in the football pool.

The day got off to a good start as well.  Went to church for Uncle George’s pomana.  It’s a special prayer service for loved ones (like George) who passed away recently.  There’s always friends, family and food at these things.  I saw my dad for the first time in months.  Funny how time passes.  I guess it’s the same with myself and Jazz.

She flies in next week.  I’ve got camping equipment in the trunk of my car all cued up and ready for action.  Haven’t put much more thought into it other than that.  Thinking about her makes missing her all the more powerful.  Don’t need those kinds of thoughts in my life — not when I’m going to be seeing her soon.

Saturday was my 20 year high school reunion.  I saw faces I hadn’t seen in a couple decades.  Some faces I don’t even remember seeing the first time around.  It was still a good time.  Much better than the time I had in high school.

I was a tall skinny geek with no confidence.  The jocks ate me alive.  One of them was there on Saturday.  His date liked me better than him.  I wound up getting her number.

I realize how petty that sounds.  High School reunions are all about seeing who’s fat, who’s successful, who’s cool and who’s not.  It’s about measuring yourself against yourself from 20 years ago.  Some of us grow.  Some of us… not so much.

In the case of the trophy phone number, I guess I’ll permit myself a bit of vanity for just a few minutes in this space.  It’s favour I figure I owe to 18 year-old me.

Back to the humility project now.

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