Man, what a weird week. Let me break it down for you:

First off, fencing tryouts. Honestly, I should have automatically made the team just for being able to find the damn place. Getting to the athletic centre was easy enough, but once you’re inside the building you need to follow like 50 different signs just to get halfway to the fencing salle. After that, the signs end and you have to guess which door leads to the salle. Not fun.

Once inside, I suited up and prepared to take on some combatants. To be honest, Queen’s had way better facilities for fencing. The salle there was bigger, there was more equipment, there was better quality equipment, etc. I think I miss that just a little bit.

Anyhow, the first guy I faced owned me. 10-5 was the final score. But I felt fortunate to have scored 5 points on this guy. I could tell that he was a lot better than me, so I was just happy to escape without being embarrassed by a 10-2 scoreline or worse.

And then something happened. I don’t know what it was, but somehow I completely turned it on for my second match. This person was also clearly better than me, but somehow I managed to win rather convincingly, by a score of 10-5.

That was it for my tryout. Just two matches. But I received an email today telling me to show up for practice tomorrow, so I guess I’ve survived the first cut! That means that unless I fuck up and get myself cut within the next month, I’ll be heading back to Queen’s for a tournament next month. I’m excited for that.

Second, Spanish class. At the end of Wednesday’s Spanish class, the professor wrote the names of the TAs on the blackboard. Mine was named Raquel.

"What a coincidence," I thought to myself. "My Spanish TA last year was also named Raquel."

After class I decided to ask the professor what this Raquel’s last name was. I mean, how many Raquels are there in Ontario, right? And whaddaya know, it ends up being the same Raquel!

Even within the same university, having the same TA two years in a row is rare. But having the same TA after transferring? Unheard of. What are the odds that both me and Raquel would have made the Queen’s to U of T switch at the same time, and even then, what are the odds that she would end up as my TA? Unbelievably slim. And yet somehow it happened.

Whatever the odds, I’m very happy that things turned out the way that they did. Raquel was my favourite TA back at Queen’s, and I’m glad to have that little slice of familiarity in this strange new world. It feels good to know someone that nobody else does, you know?

Third, the people on my floor. Where do I even begin with this one?

Back at Queen’s, my floor was full of people that I had very little in common with. As a result, I was unable to act like myself while living there. You guys know how I act, right? That quirky way that I tend to talk? There was none of that at Queen’s. Even though I’m usually known for talking too much, at Queen’s I was known for talking too little. I was never able to loosen up and be myself there. Throughout the year I thought that it would happen once I got to know everyone better, but I just never got it going.

But it’s different here. I have even less in common with the people on my floor this year. And yet somehow I’m doing a lot better already. I think it’s because I’ve managed to find a group of people that share a similar level of quirkiness. It’s become a nightly tradition that we all sit outside in the hallway and chat for a couple of hours. Then once quiet hours commence, we move into someone’s room. Often mine, since I have the biggest room and no roommate who might be disturbed by our conversations.

And boy are those conversations disturbing. I dare not repeat what’s been said, suffice to say that we talk about things that I wouldn’t discuss with my closest friends. And yet everyone is really open with each other, despite the fact that we haven’t even known each other for a month yet. It’s very strange and very wonderful at the same time.

 
Lastly, the dog.

And here’s a real strange one. Today we all piled into the family vehicle, drove to Hamilton, and returned home a few hours later with a dog. Strange stuff.

It wasn’t completely out of nowhere. We’d been talking about possible breeds and names for the past week or so, but we’ve done that dozens of times over the past decade or so, and nothing has ever come of it. I have no idea what was different about this time, but for whatever reason we’ve now got a dog.

We named him Max. He’s a cockapoo. But a picture is worth a thousand words, right? So…

POW!

He’s the tan coloured thing in the background, not the green and yellow thing in the foreground.

Pretty sweet, eh?

(As an aside, I feel like I should use more photos here, for illustrative purposes. It’s something to consider.)

Anyhow, that was my week. Like I said: strange and wonderful. If this is a sign of things to come, I say bring it on.

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