H: That's totally not her!

This post's title courtesy of Cary... via last night's "car" story. That's the punchline, but telling the story necessitates giving the punchline away first. I'm not gonna tell the story here... it was told at brunch, and I don't feel like I could do it justice right now if you don't know, but maybe ask sometime.

"I guess there is such a thing as being a little pregnant... but after a while, you're a lot pregnant." - Eric's insights into reproduction.

It's a picture perfect Sunday today. Seriously, it's completely Rockwell. The air is crisp (whatever that means,) I'm set to relax, I've got a Thanksgiving dinner coming, the leaves are falling, the wind is a capricious breeze (hooray for Writer's Craft words.) It is, as the Monkees sang, "another Pleasant Valley Sunday."

I have a huge plot summary of the last couple days coming up, but I got sidetracked into a discussion with Eric that is worth noting. Our youngest cousin, Ally, is only 1 and a half. It's impossible to imagine her growing from a baby into a "little girl" and then into a "young lady" and so on and so forth. And yet, at some point, all our relatives (particularly those now parenting our infant cousins,) saw us the same way. And we turned out all right... didn't we?

Anyway, as is expected, I tagged along at Conorton's place for the Thanksgiving drama kid reunion. First, I had to go to Loblaw's (or should I say, "Real Canadian Superstore"? It doesn't say "Loblaws" on any sign, I think.) to pick up, in what I consider to be a generous gesture, a chocolate cream cake. Then I had to hoof it on over to Conorton's... y'know, it's not as short a walk as I presumed. Particularly in the chill of early evening. I got there, and I look in through the front window, and the lights are off and the hallway is kluttered. Not comprehending, I decided to go around back. I glimpsed life through the back window, and came in that way, to everyone's surprise. Of course, this surprise was in addition to the usual surprise people get when I go anywhere.

The evening wore on. I lost $10 in a poker game when I was only supposed to lost $5 (uh, Conorton owes me that now. Fuck.) And then the money, which Doug won, went missing. It was a great time, a good dinner (courtesy of Mr. C himself, and which did not cause me to lose it at all,) and I was thankful just to be out there, man. It's not anybody in particular I missed, but being around people. The Drama kids. No matter what configuration, the dynamic is incomparable. And it's not even as though we spend all our time sitting and talking about drama. It's just how we relate. Even an outsider like me. Yeah, even in this joyful reunion there's room for a little self-deprecation, but no worries because at this point, I feel good about it.

So talks were had; some superficial, some cutting to the bone. I was asked a question I expected, and gave an evasive answer. The guitar was passed among those who could play. Some singing occurred. A little alcohol was consumed but anybody who was drunk was probably already drunk when they got there. Angela & Jess made a return to this blog with their dance-party shenanigans.

I did not, of course, see everybody I wanted to see. That would have been nearly impossible, just because the logistics of people-gathering generally mean that somebody's not gonna make it. And the people I would like to have seen generally know who they are and in most cases read this blog. (Hello!) Fortunately, Becky and Ryan actually did show up, which was glorious. And that's not a word I toss around often, since I find it foofy and vague, not to mention an invitation to hyperbole. But I was quite glad to see Mark & Maggie again, since throughout high school they were two of my closest friends (Ryan was one of the first friends I "made" in high school, and Becky, well, she's always been there.)

There was a lot of comparing notes on how university's going, although I shared fewer, if only because I don't find my own life to be so interesting right now. (How ironic, then, that I should keep this blog with more interest than ever.) Cary as ever proved himself the grandiloquent raconteur, which is why he's Cary.

After I stumbled home and fell asleep, I woke up and stumbled down to the Golden Griddle for brunchfast with... of course, most of the people from last night. In what was a continuation of the reunion, we all had the buffet at Double-G, (that's my new pet name) while discussing old times, new times, university lifestyles, and generally having a laugh. I think we disrupted several elderly peoples' meals. And Chris Ferguson was there, which really only improved the so-called dynamic, since the kid's got a damn quick wit.

Oh, and I made the syrup jar speak gradeschool french, "Bonjour, je m'appelle Sirop.," etc, much to the delight of the Frenchies who surrouned me.

There were no true goodbyes... only "see you soon's." Commencement is but a few weeks away, and Cary has taken that as an opportunity to celebrate his nearby birthday. So we've got that to look forward to.

And then, when I got back, Garden State was on TMN. And that made my relaxing sunday all the better.

I've got a video to return to Blockbuster, then I might do some much-needed site-updating, and then it's Dad's Thanksgiving mini-dinner.

I hope all of you out there are content.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto