Very quiet day. Woke late to the perennial sounds of lowfi punk rawk issuing from my brother's bedroom (and by logical extension, his stereo). Sometimes I hope this punk thing is just a phase...but if it's the gateway to increased social consciousness, then what the hell. Go to it.

So. What did I do today? Not much. Answered a backlog of correspondence in the early afternoon, played with a baby visitor at lunchtime, and investigated my new domain. Tonight was the debut of a new library workout tape, one which had me gasping & red-faced in 20 minutes (What can I say. My self-loathing knows no bounds). But my biggest achievement was getting through one whole research book, this one concerning feminist legal action in the wake of the Canadian Charter of Rights & Freedoms. And yes...it's only slightly more exciting than it sounds.

All of this takes me to another Friday night at home. I'm beginning to feel helpless about my social situation, and I fear that I won't be able to make things better when I have enough time & opportunity to maintain the friendships that are important to me. Funny - I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Disbelief, anger, depression...it's like I'm mourning the sudden loss of my social life. Which I suppose, in a sense, I am.

Today is the 5th anniversary of my loss of virginity. This seems less and less significant with each passing year, not to mention vaguely embarrassing. I mean, ew. I don't even want to think about exboyf sex at this point in my life. Especially tonight, as I'm in an entirely different city from the person with whom I could properly commemorate the occasion. Monogamy is such a drag...

(Oh yeah, like I could do better in a polygamous environment. Like it or not, I'm far too timid to make or encourage advances without an absurd level of commitment. My mom would be proud.)

"And then I was slain by an elf."
- homer, the college episode

In an example of diary synchronicity the likes of which ye have seldom seen, I find my thoughts on marriage-as-social-acceptance-rite reflected much more articulately in Mike's recent entry about baby-as-social-acceptance-rite.

Babies, evidently, are the great social equalizer. No matter how high up the executive ladder one climbs, one can always use children as a conversational gambit. If I'm out sick, they ask about Max when I come back. They want to know how Max likes the new car. That's cool, I guess. Before Max was born, hardly anyone talked to me at all. I'd nod at people in the hall or exchange the occasional "hey," but that's all. But once you have a baby (and Max is coming up on two years old now) suddenly you're all the rage. You're a grownup. You're stable. You're dependable. You're easy to talk to. Sometimes I just want to yell "I'm the same shy malcontent you've all grown to ignore!" In truth, I don't feel any hostility toward any of these people. I'm actually kind of glad to be able to share part of my life with them.

It's a pleasant surprise; usually I just laugh at his self-conscious geek references from the comfortable perspective of one who's never picked up a tetrahedron outside of Grade 7 geometry.

"We'll send out the signal: a huge octagonal klieg light with a sombrero in the middle."
- st. stephen last tuesday night on how we should summon one of his regular AD&D companions

      Agamemnon enters the preacher protection program