June 7, 2016:

Betrayed. A trusted friend initiated a motion to impeach me as club president. Stab in the back.

Ostensibly the rationale was not enough fundraising. Actually we were fine, the plans were ready. I'd made the mistake of not communicating them forcefully. We executed, raised the money, all was well. My ex friend took the credit: "It was impeachment which spurred the action." It was not.

I defeated the motion. A majority of two or three supported me. I was furious and took no prisoners during the debate, calling the other side out one by one and mocking their manipulativeness. Afterward our faculty advisor took me aside. He said something along the lines of, I didn't know you well before now. I'm deeply impressed by your response to the debate. I was told later by a girlfriend that he'd said to her of me, "He has a mind like a steel trap."

That ex-friend later tried to make it up. I think that's what it was. Maybe he was gay. He took me to Led Zeppelin, the only time I saw them, at the very end of their career. 12th row seats at the Sports Arena. They were amazing.

Eventually he turned up one more time. I was almost done with university. He got my number from my mom, called to ask if he could come by. "Why?" He'd broken up with his girlfriend and was feeling low. OK. I reluctantly gave him directions but he no-showed. I was glad.

"Fuck him. Fuck him to death and hell and back." —Pete Townsend

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