Men’s Volleyball

More about regular things instead of me holding up books I’ve read.. I feel like that would be more of a tumblr thing. Then again, you can do anything you want to WordPress so I really shouldn’t care.

I’ve been watching Men’s Volleyball, particularly our Canadian team, and being so impressed by them. They’ve been so inspirational — although I think it primarily is the game itself rather than the teams — that it’s made me want to take up volleyball again. I haven’t played since high school but I was always decent. I remember being frustrated at my classmates/teammates because I longed to have an actual rally between the two teams but it never got further than one or two hits and then the ball would inevitably hit the floor. I know I can be very competitive and driven, and I think it would definitely help if were I to start playing again. The only thing that frightens me about the sport is having a hard ball come flying at your face at 100+ km/h. And the giant smashes that I’ve been witnessing on TV. Jesus.

I looked up some volleyball drop-ins/courses at the community centres around town and I think I should register. It’d be great to play again, even if it ends up being just like high school where I serve ace after ace (which, trust me, gets boring after a while).

Also, whenever I watch this — and I must’ve watched this clip about 7 times now — I get so pumped, it surprised me.

Regrets

Back in high school in Grade 10, while the girls in PE class were having a self-defense class and learning all 101 ways to break a guy’s nose in the event he attacks her, the boys were getting their own lessons — in self-esteem.  Or something.

A man came in and we had what seemed like an hour and a half long pep-talk about what it takes to be a man.  Throughout the class, we did various things like stand in a big circle and confess to our new instructor one person we thought was our hero/someone we looked up to while he looked at us right in the eyes, as if to see if we were being genuine or not.  I remember Sean Tevlin said Jack Black and while we laughed, our pep-talker told us if Sean really did in fact look up to Mr. Black, that it wasn’t really something we should be laughing at — or at least not in a “Why would anyone look up to him?” way.

Another activity we did was listing things that were expected of being men, and another list of things that were not expected of men.  All was going well when someone said, an expectation for not being a man, “Gay.”  The room was silent (though it may have been silent-ish before the phrase was uttered).  I felt a lump in my throat.

“Does everyone agree with this?” the man asked us.

I wanted to shout out a simple, “No!” or to shake my head or do something, anything.  My mind was screaming at me to do something but all I could do was sit there stupidly, staring at him while everyone around me did the same.

Because speaking up would’ve meant that that person was gay.  No one wanted to do that.

The moment passed.  He seemed disappointed that no one said anything, and reluctantly put it on the board, on the list of expectations a man shouldn’t be.  And in that moment, I knew I would regret never saying anything.

You could argue that I was only just starting to come out and my nervousness, not to mention that I was/am a shy person at times, and that speaking up about it would’ve been understandable hard.

That’s not good of an excuse for me.  I was scared — scared of what using my voice, scared of what others would think of me.

It still is hard for me to speak up sometimes.  But then I think of this and how easy it is to say nothing, and I know:

I am better than that.

Bus absurdity

Random paragraph I wrote for non-fiction class.

***

The best place to hear the most absurd things people will say is on the bus.  Two young men, probably in their early to mid twenties, dressed like typical skateboarders sat behind me on the number 20 bus.  One was telling the other about this TV show involving a man owning a prison.  One day, the warden made the prisoners change their uniforms to rabbit constumes, as it was around Easter time.

His friend quickly asked, “Is he gay?”

A Formula for Idiocy

Something I conjured up in non-fiction class.  Does it make sense?  I was never good at math.

Formula for Idiocy

a = a person
b = ridiculous things people say

Formula:  a + a = b
if b takes place on a bus, b (ridiculousness) multiplies by 2:

so, a + a = 2b
What you do to one side, you must do to the other:

Formula: 2(a + a) = 2b

Exercise: if a = typical skateboarder, and there are two of them on a bus, find b.

Answer: 2(a + a) = 2b
b = talking about absurd television show involving a warden owning a jail, telling the inmates to wear rabbit costumes.

New formula:

x = stereotypical straight men’s behaviour
y = stereotypical gay men’s behaviour

if b ≠ x, ∴ b = y.

Exercise: Prove b = y.

Answer: ?