Twenty-Two: A Close Shave.

A lot to say tonight. Boy, y'know, for the first time all year I actually did a lot of homework tonight, and I think it brings me up to speed with the course. I had to write a bunch of leads (the opening bits of news stories,) and interview Ana Yavari "for an article about a school issue." She was such a great subject, there are like 3 or 4 different angles I could take just from that interview.

I had a test in print production today. I love that class. Maybe not because of its content, which is mostly just the technical aspects of publishing (I now know the whole process of lithography, among other things,) but because it's different. Instead of just the usual suspects, it loads all the Journalism students into one lecture hall for a lecture each week on a relatively simple subject taught in Microsoft Powerpoint. The lectures last just over an hour. The instructor, Nathan Mallett, is a good guy, keeps things light and informal, and the note-taking is a breeze. I aced the test, which was out of 25, and worth more than a quarter of my final mark in that class. Oh yeah, there's only two tests (the other is worth 40 I think,) and lest we forget, it only lasts 7 weeks. I'll miss it when it's gone.

We also did a presentation on Provincial rights in Canadian History today. And also there were 8 other presentations to which I paid absolutely no attention. Maybe I should've. Wonder if that'll come back and bite me in the ass.

I also had to talk to Jarrett about... stuff. He told me a bunch of stuff I already figured (but it's nice to hear from somebody else,) and basically reassured me about my place in the class. I gotta say, I didn't like him before (see my application of the f-word to his name,) but that was because of his teaching style. 1-on-1, he's a good guy. He actually reminded me a little of Guthrie, although I'd still rather have Hamish. It sounds weird now, but I actually had a few good teachers back at WOSS.

And then I saw someone I never thought I'd see again, Gabby Cortez. She was in Grade 12 (13?) when I was in Grade 10 (11?) and we spoke a lot in the halls. It turns out she wound up at Sheridan for performance art... or was it musical theatre? Well, she's somewhere. It continues my tradition of just always seeing somebody, so as to remind me that I'm not a total stranger.

Eric has complaints. He is clearly unhappy about where life has taken him - to this thing out in Burlington where he gets grief from this Nazi She-Wolf woman telling him not to try being a director, when even the computer says he should. He's gotten really hung up on the real world's recent reception of him, things clearly aren't working out. I at least managed to sway the topic by showing him how his misery could be transmuted into creativity. And we had a good long talk about that.

And that's really where my night faded into homework. I'm actually getting work done, which is good, since deadlines mean, well, death, I assume. I'm not looking forward to working on the newspaper. It scares me shitless, but I guess the point of this semester is to prepare me for that. I'm insecure, I guess.

I wrote last night and did not remember my dream. Coincidence? Eh? I doubt.

Well, I'm too work out from everything tonight to do any writing. i also should read some stuff for History of Journalism.

Oh college. How did I let you swallow me that much?

All in all, I'm feeling well. Seriously, things feel good for me right now. Just wait, however, as my mercurial nature kicks in and the inevitable shift of the pendulum takes me the other way. I'm dreading it. Can't I just enjoy this?

Hope all is well for you out there, wherever you may be.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott