Dear Weekly,
My boyfriend and I have had a fairytale romance ever since we met at the specialty pasta counter in the New Rez cafeteria. Well, I mean, I guess we met at Tokyo the Thursday before, but that just isn’t as good a story, you know? So anyway, pasta counter. I mean, we got the same penne in vodka sauce, so of course I knew right then.
Anyway, it’s been almost a year, and instead of planning our first anniversary dinner at Juliette et Chocolat, I’m spending every night in my Lorne and Milton apartment crying over stupid university ratings. Yeah, ratings. Because ever since the University of Toronto beat out McGill as the top school in Canada, my perfect boo-boo has stopped paying attention to Sucka Free Mondays themes and “fuckin’ ‘chel [NHL video games] brah.”
I heard him telling his mother on the phone, “Those Toronto girls just seem smarter these days.” I even caught him looking longingly at a U of T course catalog the other day, at those pictures of people studying under trees. It feels like he doesn’t think I’m up to his intellectual standards anymore, even though I’m always the one who knows how much to tip the bartender at Gert’s on Thirsty Thursdays, and he’s the one who gives a dollar no matter what he’s ordering.
What can I do to keep from losing him?
—Weeping into my fleur-de-sel brownie
Dear Weeping,
You know what? Your perfect boo-boo is probably gonna hitch a ride on one of those demons flying out of the pit on lower field and fly off to Toronto with the last pieces of both your and McGall’s broken spirits. You’ll eat that tear-soaked brownie but you’ll move on.
The thing you gotta remember is that there’s more than one residence hall speciality pasta bar out there. I mean metaphorically speaking. You probably don’t want to revisit the rez cafs if at all possible, especially if you’re scoping out dudes. Learn to let that New Rez relationship die a peaceful death and set your sights on higher things, like a more globally recognized university.
—The Weekly