#24: A cold, dark, salty Earth

Think about the image implied in the title there for a minute. That's how I think of winter right now.

I've had a blog on my mind all day, even though I've got nothing important to say.

Then again when do I ever have anything important to say? It's just that little space between Christmas and New Year's, when you haven't got anything important at all to do, you're just sitting around the house, enjoying your Christmas gifts, and not accomplishing anything of note.

Work yesterday was.... ehhh. I'll tell you, if I had to choose between working afternoons and working evenings, I'd give it some serious consideration because I got home and was pretty good for the rest of the day (although I slept like a dog.) But Ed was there, and he's my boss, and, well, all you who work know that bosses are pricks. There's pretty much just no way around that, especially when you consider the nature of my position. I've been wishing I'd put enough thought into it that I'd given away my shift tomorrow, because I don't want to work it. Not jsut that I don't want to work tomorrow, also I don't want to work with Arturo. I don't like working with others in general (because it really doesn't require more than one person to do my job, and I don't like other porters to see how lazy I am,) but I also don't particularly like Arturo. Well it wouldn't be inaccurate to say I don't like any of the other porters at all, but Arturo I wouldn't even like if we didn't work at the same place/do the same job/etcetera. I'd rather work with any of the other guys than Arturo.

And the next thing I know, Arturo's going to read this. Okay, well maybe he will, but I just hope he doesn't before tomorrow. That would probably maike for an awkward situation. Well before you know it, I'll be outta there and the whole flippin' staff can shove it, y'know? This week has drudged past. Not only do I go home and feel "gee I'm squandering my break, I'm tired, I have no free time, I'll be back at school far too soon" I go to work and feel "jeez this is taking forever it'll never end." Those are two completely contradictary statements!

So that's what's been on my mind. Soon, though, I'll be a free man. Then I'll be back at school and have that to deal with, and I'll never have to complain about it ever again.

There's something not right with my AccessSheridan account and I still haven't picked an elective, which is troubling me just a bit. I( can't get to that part of the site. That's just one more thing that I've gotta stress over... oy. I'm freakin' myself out over here. I tried to get an answer outta some random woman at the registrar, and the response was along the lines of "Please don't e-mail me as I am leaving this position... and yes, you can access that portion of the site."

Gee, lady, thanks for telling me.

I'm guessing that they're on vacation, which is fine, but I'm anxious and fearful that after New Year's it still won't work. Computers complicate matters in new, not-easily-surmountable ways.

I've been thinkin' a lot lately about the nature of this blog. It's kinda weird, y'know? It isn't a LiveJournal or a Mindsay or a Myspace, which are networks designed for interaction with friends, creating tight, insular groups of friends and keeping contact with them, and mostly for being teenagers who bitch about things (which I am, but Blake Petit, whose Think About It Central is on LJ, is not.) BlogSpot is kind of more about opinions, insights, news, reviews, and more legitimate-seeming blog stuff (the kind of stuff Mitrovica [erroneously] tried to convince us was the future of journalism.) Haasim's site is a perfect example of that. Me, I fall into my own place. I'm not eager to make friends or boast about those I have (although they are certainly welcome.) I don't care who floats in (well that's not entirely true,) and I have no pretense of commentary about news or pop culture beyond what comes up in natural writing.

What I decided this blog ultimately was is an extension of Mr. Guthrie's journal exercise. For those of you unfamiliar with the Guth, my Grade 12 Writer's Craft teacher, he insisted his students carry a journal and write 20-30 minutes of solid pen-to-paper writing each and ever yday and you know what, I've found it incredibly helpful not only for my professional purposes, but for my personal ones, too. And apparently it works. I mean, that's why I start so many posts with no real idea what I'm going to write in any given entry, and why I had no idea what the last 8 or so paragraphs would be about. I've just been sitting here for the better part of a half hour with no real aim other than to, as Guthrie'd always say, "pour myself out onto paper."

Having an HMV gift card is, to me, as much a curse as blessing. Let's be reasonable. There's nothing I particularly want, but plenty of things I'd like to have/get. I would've liked Dane Cook's recent CD, but it was all out. I would really like to get the Coral's latest, but there's not even a section for them. That's kinda disheartening. Then I bounced around and thought "gee, is there a movie I'd like? Ghostbusters 1&2 set is only $20... or you could get the White Stripes, or even Stars." I bounced around the store while they played Johnny Cash (and I do believe it was Cash, not the soundtrack of Walk the Line... because Reese's June is not as dead-on as Joaquin's Cash.) I bounded, angsting over what exactly to get. And I ran into Amy Boutenhaus... Bootenhouse.... Battenhose... how do you spell her last name, exactly?

Anyway, story: last night, after dinner, which had been prepared by mom and Wally *(although it was actually a 42nd street Prefab Roast... two to be exact... which are tasty but get stuck in your teeth like mad,) we went over to Blockbuster because Eric and I wanted to rent 40-Year-Old Virgin. And Mom and Wally did too. So we went, it was out, we looked longer under the false pretense of wanting to get something else. And I lingered along the new releases long enough to catch Amy, Kate Gurnham and an unnamed third party whom I'm not sure if I've ever met (likely not.) Which means it was weird when I ran into Amy again, this time with Janessa, in HMV. And it was jsut as I was resolving to leave, so I said hello, made the requisite crack about her stalking me (since in both cases I'd been there first, I think,) and left. And this means I've seen her, even in the slightest way, four days in a row, with a likely fifth tomorrow (if I can get a ride by some miracle.)

In case you were wondering, we got Bad News Bears, and then Wally pestered them into finding a copy of Virgin, somehow. Eric really liked it and I, of course, had already seen it (see August.)

Sometimes, like today, I seem to have a lot to talk about, even though I have nothing to say. It's kinda funny.

I've been back and forth all week trying to decide whether or not I hated myself. I concluded that I don't. I just hate work. So good for me.

I'm sure I'll go back on that, but right now I'm happy to focus all my rage on bowling balls and table-wiping. And Ed. And Tahir, too. Not Val so much, she's the good one, but I can't wait to never see Ed again. Or get a call about shift-switching, either.

And at least, for now, I'm making plenty o' cash.

For now.

5 more shifts. Maybe I'll switch off Thursday. Sounds like a good idea.

Keep on rockin'
The Scott

#23: The Spendthrift and the Swallow

This post's title comes from an old Aesop fable about not being able to judge Spring by the mere appearance of a bird. One of my favourite little stories as a kid, I really dug those fables even though they always had a moral. Those life lessons were actually a seeling point for a kid.

I figured the title was appropriate since the weather is so bizarre lately. It was rainy last night, just like it was rainy on Christmas. The snow has been worn to patches. The poor snowman down the block is now just a lower torso, if even that.

I learned something yesterday. I don't mean to sound like the most insensitive person in history, but I'm going to risk it for the sake of conversation. I hate other peoples' problems. THAT IS, when I didn't ask to hear them. Now, don't get me wrong, by going to other peoples' blogs, or asking them how their day was, you are implying that you care and are thus obligated to weather it when it turns out things have been crappy. That's why i don't feel bad for always complaining (also, because I try to make it as humourous as posssible for the readers. In case you couldn't tell.) Last night, I was at Dad's, and Deb's sister Sue was there. Deb is the woman Dad lives with.

Anyway, Sue's been having a lot of problems lately, and she is staying with Deb in order to get over them. Fine. But y'know I kinda have a hang-up about people being around when I go over to Dad's. I can dig it when Deb's kids are around, even Alex, but it's pretty uncomfortable when one of their girlfriends is over, since it looks to them like 'weird that these guys are here.' And Deb's extended family falls into a similar category, since she was obviously going through something very rough and needed her sister, but all the same I alternately felt like I was intruding, and that she was.

She spoke, quite in-depth, to Deb about her problems with her husband, and, it being a small house, I couldn't help but overhear every single word. And it frustrated me that I heard her going on about her problems - which admittedly, were quite severe - and just felt like I resented having to her them. So yeah, other peoples' problems suck.

After that, I went back to Cary's for night 2 of 2-night rager. This time, I saw Emma, Doug, and even Ryan and Becky made a cameo. Chris and I went out to get Doug and I was surprised to learn that Doug's family (I guess it would just be her mother and any sibling who is home,) now lives around Lakeshore. I guess I can no longer look out from the windows of the G-Wing on the high rise on the horizon and think "I know a guy whose family lives there." It'd have to be in past tense, which is not cool.

Anyway, I let Doug, Chris and Ryan in on the latest haps with the movie (fingers crossed, it may actually happen soon.) And I talked to Emma a whole lot... actually, it was mostly her describing unspeakably horrific things from the latest Chuck Palahnuik book... also met some new people, Willa and Sam, and found out what was going on for New Year's.

Oh, and I slept like a log last night for some reason. Didn't wanna pull myself outta bed this morning, even though I set the alarm so I'd be up long before I have to go to work.... grr, work. Bad. Bad work. Work bad.

I spoke to Alyssa for about 4 hours yesterday afternoon, too. Well, it was an MSN conversation that lasted 4 hours because sometimes responses would take a while... sometimes I'd be doing something, other times she'd be doing something, it doesn't really matter, it was just good to catch up.

Here's lookin' at you, kiddo. I'm gonna abruptly end this post and go take a shower.

Keep on rockin'
Scott

#22: The things I do for a title

Ugh what a friggin' night.

Work was all... filled with jackasses who decided "gee it's the holidays, let's go bowling." I'm starting to wonder what motivates people to go bowling if they're not in a league. Bowling's such a weird thing, I had a conversation with Rosser about this a few months ago, bowling should die out as a recreational activity... if you're good at it, you should be in a league, if not, you look like an ass. At least you can get drunk and have a fun time at it, I suppose.

It wasn't the usual Tuesday night. It felt like those times when I'd work Sunday, because I was taking over when Arturo finished his day shift, and thus didn't do garbage. I probably should have, but screw that. Nobody killed themselves because a garbage can overflowed.

Because I have officially quit and am now serving out my contractually obligated term, I did my job incredibly half-assedly. I didn't do all of the tables at night, and I know somebody's going to notice. If I get in shit for it, I'll probably just laugh. No, that's a lie, I will feel bad for about three seconds until I walk away, then giggle to myself about how I stuck it to the man.

Fuckin' man, man.

Classic Bowl is all about fear tactics. One minor screw up and they pounce, eager to lecture or threaten with "the bosses are here tonight, or could be," or something. To be honest, I think the BIG bosses, the ones who control Ed's fate, actually like me because of all the patience and helpfullness I've shown the Polish league. I usually reserve my bitter commentary until after I've left the vicinity of their lanes, but as far as they know I'm cheerfully doing my job.

Anyway, about fear. Obviously, since I've quit, I have nothing to fear, which is why I didn't look particularly hard for scrap garbage when I was about to leave. Natasha had already gone home and I had no desire to be there one second longer than her, so I quickly put all the balls where they belong, rushed some glasses back to the bar (which had long since closed up shop,) and ran home, bidding "good luck" to some cleaners, who I saw walking in. I'm usually gone before midnight, so that caught me off-guard. They came through the side door, which I'd thought I'd locked. And if they're goint to use it anyway, why should I lock it? That place is insane.

I can't believe that I'm actually going to be back there tomorrow, that's lame, man.

I really wanted to get outta there early, but it ended up being the latest I've ever stayed on a Tuesday. I wanted to get out because I wanted to get to Cary's, because I'd promised to put in an appearance. I got there, it was all right, I was just so worn out. And I should never have alcohol when I've eaten McDonald's. It works for some, not for me. Anyway, I stuck around until about 1:30, and then had trouble getting to sleep, so maybe I could have stayed later. We were watching Serenity, which I did want to see, but I wasn't in much of a mood to watch a movie, for whatever reason. I'll chalk it up to tiredness. I did converse with the usual gang... what of them were still there after midnight, that is. As I as walking home, Robyn was getting back from giving Chris Brown a ride home, and she offered me a ride, which I accepted.

The last few days have been... *sigh* y'know? It's jsut like that. A little dreary, a little gray. I have no idea what's up with this weather lately. It's all warm and snow-melty. I've just mostly been avoiding going outside, sitting inside watching TV... mostly Scrubs on DVD. After watching all that Scrubs, I don't feel so bad about my work, because at least I'm not in some kind of high-pressure medical environment where a screw-up could mean a life. It's just a Bowling alley.

My throat is sore. Swollen and sore. I don't feel sick, but my throat still does.

Well that's it for today... I'll check back in later, or tomorrow, or not. Surely you'll all be interested in how work goes tomorrow. And my cousin may or may not be coming in, so, there's something.

Does anybody know what, if anything, is going on for New Year's?

Well, keep on rockin'
(Scotto Williams)

#21: Your ex-lover is dead.

This episode's title courtesy of a track by Stars, whose album I'd very much like to find myself buying in the near future.

I don't mean to sound sentimental, but gosh darn it if I don't still want to find that special girl, who gives me tingliness in the pants. And that was humour for those of you not well-versed in the fine art of irony.

And I know you're out there.

When did Wikipedia become the big thing, I wonder? I was not really aware of it until recently, although it feels like I heard of it a long time ago... and now it's got enough noteriety that I've got teachers warning me about its perils - warnings I ignore, as I find it to be totally invaluable. Where was this during my high school years? Why did I not know it existed?

MSN, too, is a funny thing. About a week ago I was on my way to work and I was contemplating MSN, and I thought it'd make a good post. Then I quit, and that seemed much more urgent (for obvious reasons.) I first got it in Grade 8, when I signed up for Hotmail in order to play a cruel, unnecessary and ultimately unsuccessful prank on someone who was a friend-but-not-really. Then I added a few close, actual friends to my list. Then at the end of Grade 8 the yearbook was published and many of us, including me, volunteered our MSN's for a contact sheet -- including pervy Math teacher Mr. Pritchard (shiver...) -- and my list exploded, and I regretted getting sucked into this lame SNL Joke for an MSN name, which I'm embarrassed to tell people (for the record, the joke is from a Celebrity Jeopardy skit, "Who is Kraven Moorehead?" "Apparently you are, Trebek!") Anyway, I got an influx of people added to my list who I never talked to again. But it's been an important part of the whole teenage scene all these years. It's helped me keep friendships I probably shouldn't have had in the first place, make new friends, and even nearly ruin a few perfectly good friendships.

And now it's the only thing keeping me in contact with most of my friends. And getting it in the first place was a kind of accidental thing.

Which is kinda like this blog. All my friends are apparently reading it (as well as people I've never met, and many others,) and I only got it because all the cool kids were doing it.

Maybe that's my life, man, an attempt to emulate the cool kids, even if I never wanted to be one of them, I wanted to be cool in my own way. Up until I was about 16 or so, I was very concerned with coolness... at least, I had it all tangled up in knots with this concept of popularity. It was only in later years that I'd learn the truth about cool. I'm like a modern beat-cool in that way, man. No matter how much time passes between me and that that class, I'm pretty sure the beatitude of it all has stuck right along with me.

Play it cool, dig?

And on that note, I think I'll call it quits for tonight. I'm going to go do some writing, which I've gotten back to.

Keep on rockin'
Scott "I wish to create cliches that are entirely my own" Williams

#20: Hanging from the mistletoe

Well, Christmas is over. All in all, I was probably right not to get so worked up over it. Take solace in the fact that nobody will have to look at tinsel or hear "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" (or Destiny's Child's "8 days of Christmas," I haven't decided which is the worst Christmas song of all time) for another... 10 months.

It was a weird year. I stayed up to about 2 last night, and then nodded in and out this morning between 7 and 8. I so wanted to be moved by the old Christmas magic enough to spring out of bed and run around the house getting everybody up... but it was just uncalled for. It's not the old days anymore.

That's not to say we didn't have a jolly old time. Dad came over, gifts were exchanged and enjoyed. We sat and chatted, and after he left, Eric and I watched Scrubs Season 2 for about 3 hours, until the Aunts started arriving. Called to North Bay, which always feels like a chore if left too long, so it was good to do it immediately while the feeling of the season was upon us.

Cameron was bushed out. He even took no interest in the bounty of gifts for him, opting instead to collapse on the couch. When Aunt Karen arrived with Ali, we got to it.

I was a little miffed at one thing. I was supposed to get Blake Petit's book, "Other Peoples' Heroes," but Indigo, those bastards, didn't ship it on time, leaving me high and dry one gift short.

That's not to say it wasn't an enjoyable Christmas. It's always fun to see the babies, and Aunt Lori and I had an enjoyably intelligent and thoughtful discussion about media, fear, violence, etc. She's the family member to whom I've always best related.

I was watching the Care Bears Nutcracker with Cameron and Ali, which brought back many memories of being creeped out by the thought of a "rat king." And I thought about a "Vizier," a generic title for a villain, and why he hated Christmas so much. and then I formulated a theory: he was probably supposed to get a gift off Indigo one year, but it didn't deliver in time, and he's held a grudge against the holiday ever since.

So all the hubbub has died down and all that's left is a wrapping paper trail, and a sugar high from Aunt Karen's decadent Christmas Trifle. I'm not sure if we're going to do anything for Boxing Day, but I told Craig I was just to excuse myself from taking his shift (or was it Albert? I can't really tell.) Inevitably, after my last shift, I'll still get calls from those guys and have to tell them "man, I quit like a month ago."

I had a thought to add, completely unrelated, but I can't phrase it properly. If I say it the way I was thinking it, it would be clumsy, awkward, and embarrassing. Maybe I'll come back to it someday when I haven't got anything else to say, and when I've remembered how I was supposed to sat it in the first place.

Well I guess that was Christmas. Not un-merry, but kind of a let-down in the end. That's life.

Hope you've had a merry one. I hope you got what you wanted but more importantly, that what you gave was appreciated. Nothing's so sad as an unenjoyed gift.

Well, there is one thing: a ruined supper. That's just the saddest thing I can think of. Any meal that gets wrecked, really, is a damn shame, because usually somebdoy worked really hard.

Well, that's an odd note to end a Christmas post on, but there you are. I'm a weird note kinda guy.

Let's all enjoy what's left of 2005... we'll find some way to do something.

Keep on Rockin'
---Scottor

#19: Clearheaded as a cabbage man

Lord almighty has this post been a long time coming.

Not that it's been too long since my last entry, or that anything in particular has happened, I just really have been looking forward to an opportunity to voice my frustrations for the better part of 2 days.

For starters, and I can't believe this hasn't come up, but this is like the 406th post... it's hard to believe how many posts I've written in the year and a half+ of this blog's existance. How many hours I've wasted away complaining about all my trivial bullstuff is really quite mindboggling and overwhelming.

Sometimes in winter, you don't know what to expect when you step outside. I, for one, was not counting on rain/slush/hail today, but lo and behold the Snow Meiser relented and gave us a few notches above the ole 0.

As it was, I went out to go find my aunt the second half of her Christmas present, which I intended to be chocolates. Except Purdy's Chocolates, whom I can usually count on as my hookup in any gifting emergency, was fresh out of truffles, which is what was requested. So what was I to do? I had $10 left in my gifting budget (at least) and I had no clue where to go. The only other item I remembered was black gloves, which I then headed toward the Bay for. Then the fates intervened.

It's all about the perfect gift for the perfect price. As soon as I stumbled into the Bay, mystified as to where to go for ladies' gloves, I wandered unintentionally into a display of fine Belgian chocolates, and it did not take me long to notice the box of truffles for the perfect price.

Oh yeah, Aunt Lori, if you're reading this (you're not, but I can never be sure,) don't read the last two paragraphs.

The gifting has taken up the better part of the last two days. And when I say better, I really mean that it's been worse, so there's some wordplay for you. Yesterday I bussed it out Comic Connection to pick up my weekly stack and to get Kris' gift. I was having some trouble getting exactly what he asked for, but eventually found my legs after merely asking Rich for a little help. And then, as I was about to ask about Blade of the Immortal 16, in walks my dad.

"Scott!"

"Dad!"

"What are you doing here?" I found that question amusing, coming from him, "Get out!"

"I'm doing my christmas shopping!"

"I know, so am I - get out!"

Obviously, he was there for my gift, which amuses me even now as I think about it... he asked if "they had it," and I can only guess what "it" is, because I have only a vague recollection of what I asked for in the way of comics... as I never expect anybody to actually go out and get it (though htere have been times in the past.) Normally that's just Kris' domain, and in the future I'm thinking of just striking comics off the list altogether and giving that portion exclusively to Kris. Oh the tangled web of gift buying.

Dad generously offered a ride home, after I waited in the car while he picked up whatever it is he got me. And later that night we went out to Chapters to get, well, books, obviously. Mom took us out and happened to mention that Wally got us gifts, and therefore she felt compelled to get a gift for him and say it was from us. Now, I don't dislike Wally all that much, inasmuch as I can possibly like somebody who is seeing my mother... I do not believe that, apart from my dad, she has particularly great taste in men (which boils down to a concerted effort on her part to dte men who are unlike my father, apart from having a moustache.) At least, she never seems to pick guys who relate to the three of us, which is fine... if mWally makes her happy, then I hope she's happy. I just don't want it to get all tangled up like it was with Frank. Now, about the gift, it's a slow-cooker, which Wally apparently needs for his tiny apartment (upon learning of the tininess of his apartment, I shuddered, sure that inevitably he'd be called upon to take a place here.) I don't want this slow-cooker to cost any more than what we got dad, because let's face it, that sends the wrong message. My family has a curse of putting much stock in the monetary value of gifts, it's so true. we worked very hard to make sure we spent the same amount on both parents, especially considering that we spent more on mom than intended.

After Chapters was Toys R' Us which was funnily enough not for my baby cousins, but for my 22-year-old cousin. And while there, Eric spotted a deal on a $5 used keyboard, which was still somehow far superior to our other one (no comparison.) I'm typing on it right now, it's growing on me quuite well. Eric, I'm sure, prefers it because the keys are so much quieter than the obnoxious old keyboard we'd been using since... forever. It was all crusty and grimey and despire the sentimental value, it was time to go.

I got back from the mall and chilled for a few hours today, mom took us to see Grampa and I've got to say it's so odd in this state. The man has wasted away to virtually nothing (or as I call it, the Brandon physique - ha!) definitely looking more frail than he did before, but he's so talkative these days, when people will listen. He's eager to share a quip about his state or about anything really. His memory is not so great (which has been the case for years,) but as mom so accurately put, "he's still got his wits about him," which is true, and a blessing. I'm not sure if he's going to pull a Dylan Thomas and "Rage, rage against the dying of the light," but he's 101, so who knows how much rage he's got in him. Belligerence, perhaps, but not much rage.

"Uncle Bob" (really "Great Uncle") was there, keeping watch over and taking care of him. He's a really talkative, even garrulous fellow, to use a Writer's Craft word. This led to the goodbye being the longest and most awkward I've had in a long time, with him starting new conversations even as I was attempting to leave.

And from there, we delayed going home and having dinner in order to spring a surprise visit on Aunt Lori and Gail, and Cousin Cameron. He's a cool kid, and we all had a wonderful little gathering over, as per usual I imagine, Dora the Explora (I choose to spell it that way because it rhymes better.)

And then mom brought up the possibility of Pizza Hut... and long story short, there is no Pizza Hut. Anywhere. The one on Dorval was so tucked away nobody noticed when it went out of business, but naturally I knew the one on Trafalgar was gone.

So that's the last two days for you. Wow I'm exhausted just writing about it. Sometime in there, I managed to finish my script for Ana, and apparently she loves it and we're gonna have talks and she's excited, and I'm excited that she's excited, because I'm rather fond of the piece myself.

And I got my marks yesterday, and let's jsut say... it's official, I rule. Okay, so Mitrovica visited some of his frustrations about his own life on my mark, but that's his problem for being such a... oop, better not say that, you never know who might be reading. Apart from that, all aces, with the occasional "plus." I reiterate: I rule.

Anyway, it's now Friday night and I'm sitting around with nothing going on and nobody to talk to. Pray for me. I'm a man with no occupation.

Well that's all tonight... we'll talk tomorrow.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#18: Break my rusty cage

Part of the format of this blog has me ascribing titles that have, ideally, absolutely nothing to do with the content of the entries. Otherwise, the content is really only tangentially related to the material. The latter is the case, because I just, in the words of Soundgarden, broke my rusty cage, and am gonna run.

At 10:15 AM Eastern Standard Time today, I quit. I fuckin' quit, and man does it feel good. I beam with delight every time I type that. I quit!

The story of why is a long and complicated one... which I will now tell. I knew I wasn't going to be around very long right from the start. From the second I was offered the job I was like "uhh, work in Mississauga? yeah, that'll work... not." Except I didn't literally ever say that. And it quickly became a hassle to get way the hell out there. And by the end of November, as forecasted, I was ready to quit. Except I'd grown comfortable, so I was content to be miserable. Then came last Saturday's shift-switch with James, which made me resent work even more, since I've constantly been inundated with requests from my fellow porters to switch shifts. I almost always say no, excpe twhen I'm feeling generous - and in those instances, I regret it almost immediately, but it's more money.

I was all set to quit until I realized it was the holidays and nobody was hiring. AND THEN, I got my schedule for next semester. Now word has it ther schedule is not set in stone, but I don't care. There ain't no time for work.

At least, that's my story. And I'm sticking to it. But the final straw came yesterday.

I had just finished cleaning up some vomit (yes, surprisingly that wasn't the final straw, in and of itself,) and was getting on with my business when Ed called me into his office. Never a good sign, for sure. He points to last week's schedule and asks if there's any reason I missed my shift on Saturday. My response? "Um... I wasn't booked?"

"Yeah you were." And he starts in on this whole spiel about checking the schedule and other bullshit, and he used the phrase "this isn't for my benifit" at least twice, and that's when the bell went off. I can't work here anymore. I can't stand it when people repeat themselves in that way, it marks a lack of intelligence and connotes a lack of respect for the intelligent of the other party, ie me. So after I wrote down all my holiday hours, I told Val "Well, I'm going to give my notice."

Her response: "Well make sure you give him plenty of notice." Well, would tomorrow be enough time? Yeah. So I made a date. I was going to quit first thing the next morning. I was beaming the rest of the night. Fuckin' beaming man. When was the last time anybody saw me beam?

What gets me though... not bothers, but something I noted, is how unemotional and businesslike the entire affair was. No "sorry to see you go" (I'm guessing they're not,) no "sure we can't change your mind/make it work" no effort whatsoever, just "ok then." Which is good, it was a clean break. It's just sad I wasn't able to make some kind of devastating impact. As it was, I'm really just a meaningless cog in a giant system that abuses and wears people like me out without any appreciation.

There was some stuff with the alley girls, too... for whatever reason we didn't talk, and then I noticed a folded up slip of paper next to my jacket. In it, an innocent note, asking a few questions, the answers to some of which were "18, Sheridan College, Oakville, Not saying, and nope." Fun distraction.

I went to White Oaks today and hung out with Robyn and Janessa for a little bit, and met up with some of the 11's, but got "not today'ed" by Rosser, which is fair... it's the audition unit for them, and that's a big project. I would have liked to have seen some of the monologues, but I gotta respect the man when he drops the "n.t." order. After all, how often am I around there? I mean, not so frequently lately, but I wouldn't want to step on his toes.

Anyway, another lazing around kinda day other than that... been on the 'puter a whole lot, some TV, watching the sun set through the window of the basement and wondering why I'm wearing this sweater.

Oh yeah, it's cold.

Ironically, I'll end this post with a request to stay cool and also keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#17: You can never leave without leaving a piece of you

An auspicious start to my break, really. I'm sitting here with my laptop all wired up, Eric on the PC and Brandon on his computer in his room. We're quite the trio here.

Everybody Loves Raymond is on. Now, I'm not such a huge fan of Raymond, he's all right if you like that same-old sitcom stuff, but that's not the point. It was an episode where he was sick. It reminded me of times when i was a kid... I'm thinking grade 7, when I'd fake sick by saying I had a headache (it was my go-to symptom because it was nondescript and difficult to disprove,) and Grandma would come over to take care of me. I'm pretty sure she knew I was usually not all that sick, but tolerated me and made sure I stayed out of trouble. Even as I played video games pretty much all day.

Today we finally went out and did the Christmas shopping... it was a breeze, unlike Saturday, and my last stop to make will be Chapters at some point this week. We actually did end up finding what we wanted to get Mom, a very helpful body shop lady was able to show us what was very clearly right in front of our faces the entire time.

Other than that, it was a wonderful, lazy afternoon. My sympathy goes out to those of you who are still in school, and will be for a week or so before I go back. At least you have the comfort of knowing that my schedule is pretty nuts, with my working on the newspaper/ezine/whathaveyou 3 days a week. Well, this is what I signed on for, not going to dwell on it (although for 14 weeks straight starting next month I am going to complain about it freely, as this is my blog.)

I don't get it man. I think I totally bypassed Christmas spirit this year. Now I'm not one to get all "It's A Wonderful Life" to begin with, but I can usually enjoy the holiday season a lot more than I have this year. I think between all the commercialization of the holiday theme, the argument over "christmas vs. holiday" being especially intense this year, and my frustrations over various aspects of the season, I just didn't catch onto that old Christmas feeling. I do love Christmas morning. My heart warms up just thinking about that one, I'll tell ya.

I'm of the opinion that it doesn't really matter what you call it. As the religion evolved from cult to dominant world faith, the holiday of Christmas evolved with it, even though it was somewhat arbitrary in its creation, into the creme de la creme of holidays, lending itself better to commercial exploitation than others. We call it Christmas, a celebration of Jesus' birth which is more likely to have happened in springtime given the biblical account... but you never an trust the Bible anyway, since it's historically more likely that Yeshua ben Nazareth (that's Jesus to you,) was a mason, not a carpenter. And the whole Old Testament probably didn't happen and what is the deal with Revelation? See, this is why I never read the Bible, it's ridiculous. And if I never read the Bible and yet celebrate Christmas, why shouldn't anybody else? After all, at the time people *say* Jesus was born, he would've just celebrated Hanukah anyway.

Mom went to her office Christmas party tonight... obviously getting plastered, phoning at quarter to 7 and having to have her boss let us know where she was. I wasn't even aware she was out until then.

Looking at my playlist... observing the fact that I listen have a lot of songs on there that I just don't want to hear anymore. Thinking of streamlining it. Kinda wish my DL program hadn't flipped out, but it did and I've got no urge to try getting another. Tired of the whole idea of downloading music.

I just spend about 30 minutes building a new playlist consisting of some songs that were already on my playlist and others I had no idea were on there... and now I've run out of things to say, so, talk to you later.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#16: In your head baby you don't know where it is

Go check out David Cross' open letter to Larry the Cable Guy, linked above from BobandDavid.com, the official site of Mr. Show's Bob Odenkirk and David Cross.

Why is nothing healthy to eat anymore? Eggs are loaded with cholesterol. Bread is full of carbs. Fried foods have the trans fats, salt causes high blood pressure, sugar rots your teeth and causes diabetes... everything we are eating, which is supposed to sustain us and keep us healthy, is really killing us. How is it that we survived for millions of years on the same meats and fishes and eggs and milks and cheeses and yet now all of a sudden we're afraid to obey the same dietary patterns as we have for centuries upon centuries. Of course in the past hundred years or so the nature of food has undergone a sort of renaissance, which has somehow led to it all being so much worse.

There's really no way out. Food for thought - hah. That pun was completely intention, and really quite horrible. (Not to mention overused.)

Mom is extremely concerned about her grandfather, my great-grandpa whom I refer to just as Grandpa. The man turned 101 back in September. One hundred and one! Isn't that remarkable, that I'm related to a man who has seen triple digits, it's unbelievable. All the same, the family has gotten suddenly very pessimistic about his health. Well, mom always was, because that's her general outlook. As it seems, he was leaving the oven on too much, so great aunt Ann (who is married to grandpa's son Bob,) had someone unhook his oven. So he couldn't really cook for himself, other people constantly are having to cook for him on the microwave; and he's just "not eating." So his physical condition is deteriorating.

The family is in panic. You know, that's where the key difference is between the Fourniers and the Williamses is. Grandma Williams lived for about 3 years after being diagnosed with cancer. Everyone around her was so positive and supportive that she lived years beyond the professional opinion. Now one year later, Grandpa Wood, patriarch of three branches of Wood-Fournier, takes a slight turn for the worse, everyone panics, and who knows how much longer he'll have. If I'm to believe the universe consists of indetectible energies we all send out to one another, I have to believe these types of things have an effect on the situation.

I don't know how this is going to turn out, but I'd urge all my family members as well as the millions and millions of readers (or the dozens and dozens, or fives and fives if you want to be realistic,) to really send out some positive energy his way, and whatever happens, happens. Maybe not too much, we don't wanna overload, but just think of an old man who answered the door in his underpants when a lady minister came by; it's funny, and shows what a good sould he has.

But mostly it's just funny.

Yesterday felt like an eternity. Got up early and went bowling - wish I hadn't, it was a meaningless "fun day" during which I slipped and banged my knee, hobbled for much of the day. Then we went on a horrible mission for Christmas gifts, which was doomed because seriously, why would anyone go to the mall during the month of December? What a horrible idea that was! It was hard to breathe and we didn't find what mom wanted, and hardly what dad wanted.

So I've done none of my Christmas shopping, I'm pretty cold and a little sore, and plagued by all my little problems. Hardly in a holiday mood.

Why was it so much easier when I was a kid?

Don't answer that, I know the reason.

I'll keep on rockin if you do the same,
-El Williams

#15: A hint of a smile

So Scott, why aren't you out at Conorton's with everyone else? Getting plastered and celebrating the end of the semester?

I'd like to be, but I don't wanna go out tonight. I don't like to go out Friday nights, since I have to go bowling tomorrow (not that I couldn't have gotten out of it without prior notice.) I'd like to see everyone, but all the same I don't feel like I have anyone to see, and that I'd end up, as usual, a wallflower, paranoid and eager to leave. No offense to the very nice people who wouldn't be there.

Then there's the obvious, I couldn't get a ride. How dare mom go out and play darts tonight. And shame on everyone else for using poor Chris Brown in that way.

Anyway, I'm convinced nobody will even miss me. Trust me, the effect I have on a gathering is negligible, and it *is* still a party without me.

All the same, I would severely like to have had some way to celebrate the fact that I have finished out my semester, that I nailed O'Shea's wonderfully easy final to the wall, that she gushed over my article, and that next semester isn't really as bad as it looks. Looks like my celebration consists of a quiet night on the computer, a can of coke, and whatever the Movie Network wants to show. And, if I'm a good lad, I'll actually do some writing.

I'm in a Christmas funk. I can't face the world. I feel like I'm about to break down if I don't get my satisfaction. I feel like a bit of a tool, but at least I can do that from the safety of my own home. Sometimes I feel more comfortable when I'm making myself miserable, which sounds ridiculous and a little psychopathic.

I need to find something that works for me.

There's nothing, man. I'm nowhere. I was on such a roll 6, 7 months ago, I'm fallen pretty hard. I'm alienating people who would like to know me, I'm ignoring those that do, although not entirely intentionally... how am I supposed to get by?

This is something I think about a lot, man. We all need something to be passionate about, and somebody we can share a special bond with. I doubt I have the former and I know I don't have the latter, and therefore I've got nothing to comfort me in times of personal doubt.

But fuck it man, I'm making the issue bigger than it needs to be. I'm staying in tonight because I just couldn't get a ride, not because I'm a self-loathing antisocial wallflower (as true as that may be.) I have my problems, but the big one tonight is just laziness.

I want to run away. I want to go back to May 4th 2005 and just re-live my life from there. I'd figure it out after that. It would all make so much more sense. I never thought it would get easier, I just hoped I'd get better at it.

Two nights ago, I helped my brother Eric win $25, the top prize, in an online poker tournament (10 people.) It was quite a thrill and I get a cut. Yesterday, I watched a flick called Dark City, review soon.

Scott Williams is just a fool. And really a major bummer.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#14: Slip on a kiss and tumble into love

Is there anybody out there who doesn't remember/love the Presidents of the United States of America? Their quirky offbeat singles "Lump" and "Peaches," their cover of "Video Killed the Radio Star," and their version of "Cleveland Rocks" that was the theme to the Drew Carey Show for many years?

Back in Grade 11 or 12, when I was eating lunch with Josh Kershaw, we used to amuse ourselves by singing "Lump" repeatedly. It's an f'ing catchy tune.

At tihs point I'm reminded of just how wild of a universe it can be. Case in point: a few weeks ago, when I was at Mac, and meeting Barbara, Steph's roommate (I say I was meeting her, even though I had officially met her at Commencement/Cary's, because I still didn't know her.) Anyway, I was in their room with Kyle, Lauren, Robyn and Chris F. before the show, and she showed her MSN list and was like "do you know this Josh guy? I knew him from my old school in Toronto, and we've talked like, once..."

I looked at Kyle. I looked at Barbara. I smiled. "Yeah, Josh Kershaw is Kyle's best friend."

"It's true!" Kyle agreed.

I laughed, and noted this would be a good thing to mention on a blog. Here I am, about three weeks later, doing just that. Don't know why the delay.

I'm posting early today, I'm not sure why. I was trying to get to sleep last night, and I had a premonition of this entry, so when I awoke I still felt the urge to write it. Maybe because I want to write something friendlier to get over the ranting of last night.

I wrote a shitload more for Ana. "Drift" is going to be a really good project. I have such a clear vision of how it's going to shake out, it's going extraordinarily well. Very happy with myself.

Man, I oughtta be studying for O'Shea's test. Soon. After this, and some other stuff. That's a pretty bold claim, seeing as how I'm leaving in about a half an hour, so there's not so much time. But I live on the dangerous side.

I've found I get the oddest music stuck in my head these days. The Goo Goo Dolls... Nelly Furtado... I don't even listen to Mix 99.9 anymore. Shouldn't it be Rush and Queen?

Back on Sunday, this guy came over for dinner. Wally was there, and this guy was Wally's friend. And Aunt Karen was there with Ali. Ali's getting really animated, it's so great. But that guy made things so incredibly awkward - obviously moreso than even when Wally's just there, which is already pretty awkward. The dynamic was not cool, especially since Max doesn't like new people (and good for him,) he had to be locked up in the basement, where he goes crazy and I inevitably end up dogsitting. Max hates being locked up (who wouldn't?) and I hate to see Max suffer.

Okay I think that's about it for tonight. Looking mucho forward to the break.

Keep on rockin'
-The Williams

#13: One false move.

Okay, let's everybody just shut the hell up for a second. Let me think.

Hmp. That's better.

I only have one test left before I am free at last. It's O'Shea's. I'm cautiously optimistic, and I think I can take it. If I actually do any studying tonight, that is.

So it was thursday, which as usual sucks, because it means Mitrovica at 8. It was the J-History exam, which I disposed of in about a half hour (Mansoor had his eye on the clock when I left, which amused me.) Not that I aced it by any means, but I expended all the useless minutiae I had on the topic of yellow journalism and blogs (ughh) before 9:00. So what could I do? sit there and twiddle my thumbs? I went home and caught a shower. Then I came back, grabbed some Tim Horton's, and hung out in the newsroom for about 2 hours until the next class - the final page design with Roy Wilson.

My toe hurts today. I should really get that checked out.

And whoo, we're really on a rollercoaster now. This is as exciting as it gets, isn't it?

Concentrated bitterness. I'm so intensely wound up over these past few weeks that this break is such a blessing. It's natural to say it "couldn't have come at a better time," and I really do believe that since I may just have snapped if it had gone a week longer. you all know what I mean. You all feel it.

Now for the odd part. I'm at a bit of a crossroads. Well, not so much of a crossroads but a "T-Junction." I looked at my schedule for next semester and noticed... jeezes it's heavy. That is, the hours are late. As in, too late for me to catch a ride to Classic Bowl for 5:00, thanks to the Sheridan Sun practicum (well, really, the Writing for Newspapers course is what overlaps into 6:00 on Tuesdays.)

Gee, it looks like I might *have* to quit... as opposed to merely *wanting* to quit.

There's one good thing about winter, and as I can see, only one good thing about winter, environmentally speaking. As a poetic sort (heh,) this appeals to me. At night, after it has snowed, and the sky is cloudy, light from streetlights and the general world at large, reflects off the snow, illuminating the sky a dark shade of red. As though the night has been lit on fire.

Y'know, I really didn't want to blog too much tonight, but I felt I owed it to myself. Help me get unwound. And of course, I owed it to you, the faithful readers, since as we all know, this is the most popular, entertaining, and insightful website on the entire internet. That must be why everybody always wants to talk about it.

I hate that I'm still fundamentally that fucking nebbish little awkward kid who doesn't want anything to do with anything, and here I sit, typing my problems away perfectly aware that there are people on the other side of the computer screen waiting to scoop up all my hang-ups, pack them up into a cold, tight little ball, and throw them back at me. I'm about ready to snap. And the thing is, I know I'd better be prepared to have every sentence of this blog scrutinized to hell, particularly this one. Ironic. It's cool, but after writing this junk, I have nothing left to say on any of these subjects. Don't like what I write? Cancel your subscription.

I know what compels some people to come back here. others, I'm not so sure. I wouldn't understand the psychology behind coming here knowing that you're gonna take issue with what I'm gonna say, and then taking issue with it anyway.

Save it. Don't bother. I've heard it.

I've said it before, although you probably haven't read those entries so I'll say it here: I like to leave leave the blog at the blog.

(cough.)

Bitter, angry little rant over with. It's just the little things that've gotten under my skin lately. I'd be inclined to blame it on the school schedule. I just wonder which remark is gonna be the one that kills me.

I know the fanbase of the blog expects better that that after all this. After all we've been through together (heh,) I oughtta be able to collect myself better, and conduct myself with a little more maturity.

Nah.

One false move...

Keep on rockin'
Scott "This is all Silly Bullshit" Williams

Addendum: 12:40 I almost considered tossing that rant out for my own safety, but on consideration I stick by it. Besides, it was asked if I was gonna post, and I figured "yeah, I got one." Oh blog... you're so blog.

#12: Dark houses at the edge of town

Go ahead and call me an asshole. I'd deserve it; especially from some of you.

Whenever asked for what I think my bad habits are, what tops the list is usually "writing about people" - particularly online, where I am ignorant of the possibility that since this is incredibly public, someone about whom I've writen may just end up reading it.

Well that's obviously what's happened here. In my quest to accidentally have the most popular blog on the net, without actually doing anything, I found out today that some of the girls in my class, about whom I may he written a few things... some nice, some... a little not. Obviously I'm embarrassed, but what can I say? I said something t a particular time and place, but it may not be particularly relevant now. Still, I just know I'm gonna get an earful about it. Like I said, I'm an ass sometimes. I don't even remember writing pretty much any of it, since I tend to write something, and then move on and forget it the next day.

It's just really, really embarrassing, anyway.

I guess I'm just gonna have to watch my mouth. Will I ever get outta this pattern f behaviour? Nahhhhh... I'll just keep meeting new people, keep talking about them, and keep getting mortified when I found out they know evrey minor thought I've had about them. It could've been worse.

It could've been a teacher. Or someone from work.

I've said some idiotic things in my time, and from what these girls tell me, the things I've said with regard to them are rather idiotic. So I guess I'm right in character this time around. So I called them "zany." That's humour. So I called one of them "cute in her shyness." Is that such a bad thing to hear? The bulk of the remarks were made before we had really made friends (if we can be called that - I'm thinking we can,) and you were just "those girls in my class."

I could've said some stupider things. I may be by continuing this statement.

Those who don't listen to history are doomed to repeat it.

I'm going t keep a mental list of eveyone who reads this blog, and of everyone who might read it.

I should probably not say anything bad about my J-History teacher here; a shame since his final is tomorrow and I'm full of angst.

There are worse things I could have done. I'm thinking this isn't half as bad as when Jess and Angela first found this place (points for a Jess & Angela reference.) And just search their names on this bad boy if you wanna find out obut some of the ridiculous things I said about thme without knowing they'd eventually become some of this things' biggest readers.

So I'm gonna try and not focus on this for a while. Beyond this minor little lapse in acceptable behaviour, it ws a good day today. Aced the Desktop midterm in about 20 minutes (go me.) took out the Jarrett exa n roughtly 35, maybe 40... chilled in the newsroom half the day litening to a few second-years cut a podcast (before Haasim, Mansoor and Joe showed up and created "too much noise." Hah!) Burned the roof of my mouth up on some grilled cheese, but I'll live.

I just realized I didn't send O'Shea my article. Uh, whoops... I got so caught up in the blog-drama that I forgot. My bad. Gotta go deal with that now.

It's been a rough day, but I think we'll survive.

(cough.)

No?

Well keep on rockin'
-Foolish Williams

#11: Emotions that turn on a dime

There was this really ominous photo on the cover of today's London Telegraph (I think) of a huge black cloud of pollution smoke hovering over the city. It was freaky. And today, Arrested Development was shut out in Golden Globe award nominations... coincidence? Yeah, probably, but the Golden globes are a sucky award anyway. They're not a top accolade for either film or television, so they accomplish nothing. Meaningless. And yet, it pisses me off that they were passed over for Everybody Hates Chris and Weeds, neither of which I have seen, but both of which I am confident are inferior. Also shut out was the Office, (except for a best actor for Steve Carell) which I've mostly missed this season but won't after it moves back to Thursday.

Why is Desperate Housewives competing in the same category as all these half-hour comedies? It makes no sense, there is no correlation there. the Housewives program isn't funny, isn't intended as a comedy, and does not compete on the same ground as Curb your Enthusiasm and My Name is Earl. Terrible sign of the times.

I need to stop writing parts of blog entries and then leaving the rest for later. That's a habit I've gotten into recently and those two previous paragraphs are from earlier today. It's now like 12:30. What happened today was that I did not go to Jarrett's class because I was told he was accepting the take-home exams tomorrow (the good thing about having the same teacher 3 days in a row.) Whether or not that works out remains to be seen. Instead, I went to the mall and ate A&W and thought about loneliness. What can I say, it's winter: it's cold, it's dark, and you really start to realize it when you haven't got anyone. That's me. But that point has a bit of a happy ending, but that's for later.

While at the mall, I realized that I didn't have any change for the bus to get to work tonight. I felt like a fool after I realized I had paid for my mama burger in debit (although since I opted for the drink it wouldn't have netted the necessary toonie to get the bus anyway, so the point was moot.) So I decided to buy some small items from the newsstand downstairs for change. I ended up with a book of crossword puzzles, which was just over the line of providing a toonie, and so I got a Snickers as well. "But Scott, why didn't you just get a Snickers in the first place?" SHUT THE HELL UP, you! To hell with your infernal logic.

So anyway, when I got to work, I found out that Natasha was off tonight, and that James was being trained on the front counter, along with Craig being there. Which means I am officially the only porter never to work the counter. Whoo hooo... ahem.

Believe it or not, I was actually a little depressed about this. That's how irrationally sensitive I've been lately. I actually cared for a minute that I was being given less responsibility than everyone else at a job I don't care for to begin with. Go fig. So I was all mopey and stuff.

I've been consciously goofing off lately. It started on Saturday as a way to square myself with the fates that brought me there in the first place, by acting like an ass, screwing around and avoiding work by reading and watching TV in secret. today I availed myself of the crossword puzzles. I got like two and a half done.

There's these two girls there. Sisters I think. They don't work there, I just think their parents bowl in the Tuesday Night Classics League. I've noticed them there every week since I started Tuesdays, and I'm pretty sure they recognize me. Sometimes when I pass there is a tacit acknowledgement that we sorta know each other, but not really.

Anyway, today, just as I was grabbing my coat for break, one of the girls came behind me and said "hey, hi, what's your name?"

Well, 'at last,' I guess. We've sorta broken the ice after all these months of my pretending not to notice them constantly being there, usually doing homework. And I'm not going to make this into anything more than what it is, but it was nice to at least get a little friendly "hello, my name is..." with the mood I've been in off-and-on these days. I thought it was nice. Their names are Jacqueline and Elisha (sp?) by the by.

As usual I went to McDonald's, but then I remembered "crap, I already had a cheeseburger today at A&W!" So I got the chicken nuggets. Good call.

Not much else to tell. Back got a little sore, and I was there late because Natasha is the one who always turns people away and doesn't let them bowl past 11:30ish. So I didn't get in until after 12.

And now I'm writing this.

(cough.)

Excuse me.

Anyway, only got a few more finals left, nothing too too hard although I really ought to study for Writing for Newspapers tomorrow after Desktop Publishing. Then it's break.

Someday I'll write about some stuff that happened on Sunday, but it's late and iot would require much more typing. It's not all that interesting anyhow, but it merits an entriy as much as anything I wrote tonight.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#10: There is but one finger of love

Don't know how big of an entry this is going to be. I don't have all that much to say tonight, plus my computer is being a little flippy, if you catch my drift.

I had this whole thing written up this morning about what a drag mornings can be, and how the vacuum of the mind in the absence of thoughts breeds a lot of depresion. Like, you end up thinking about a bunch of uber-depressing things. Except so much time has passed that that's really not on my mind at the moment and I don't want anybody to get the impression that that's how my life is these days.

Truth is, I'm all set. I had only 15 minutes of class today for my grammatical exam, worth about 5% of my final mark. I couldn't have gotten less than 3.8%, by my count, and that's if I totally tanked the section on copy editing symbols (entirely likely - I neglected to study that section all together.) I just finished writing my History take-home exam (procrasturbation? Just a little. Okay, a lot.) Had a bit of printer drama there. I'm guessing no class tomorrow, then, since - well, what's to learn after the exam? Pizza party?

Hah, shyeah, sure.

Other than that, I'm all set for a) by remaining exams, and b) writing "Drift" for Ana Yavari. I think I might take the time over the break to re-try learning Esperanto. I was having a good time with that until I got sidetracked, and school started (note: the two are different events, really. I had given up on the whole "new language" thing weeks before Sheridan.)

Oh, and do check out Interneta's Christmas Special, linked above. You'll finally learn my story behind the 2004 WOSS Holiday Assembly, including rare unedited scripts, and also the story of "Christmas with the Boogeyman," which most people on my MSN list have no doubt been wondering about.

Well, I got a kitchen full of dishes, no women, a bum job and a lame school career. Things ain't goin' so great for me, but who'd I be to complain? I got food, sanity and health. I can stand a little loneliness.

For now.

Keep on rockin'
Scott-Williams

#9: This title used to be a lot more clever before it became accurate

The original title of this post was "#9: Please don't read into this title." Explanation later.

I had this really romantic vision in my head on my way home from work last that I'd stay up for hours into the night writing. Then I got home, sat down in front of the computer, read the usual haunts, and then decided I just didn't feel like it.

I'm utterly exhausted, as expected, after work. It didn't take the whole night for me to decide "Never Again!" As a matter of fact it took about 3 seconds after hanging up the phone with James last week for me to decide that. Forget what I said last week, my policy of never taking extra shifts is a good one even if it means I never get a paycheck over $100. It's just a good policy, and it's frankly not worth suffering working under Tahir.

Maybe I become a racist the moment I put the Classic Bowl jersey on, or maybe it's just general distain for everyone in there most of whom happen to be of a different ethnicity, customers and employees alike. Whatever the reason, I don't particularly like working for the man.

The thought of him reading this just occurred to me, and I had a bit of a chuck on that one. It doesn't seem to be possible, but then again, this is apparently the most popular blog in history we're talking about here.

Kidding, of course.

It was the usual chaos at Classic Bowl. Scratch that, it was a different brand of chaos since it was a different night. I don't like having to do my job in the dark. I don't like the mess people generally leave behind when they're having a fun drunken night. But I put up with it, for whatever reason.

So it's been a rough night, and I came home and I had to convince someone that I did not hate them for some imagined reason. It has to do with the original title of this post, and the last post's. I don't much care to discuss it (imagine that,) but suffice it to say that I don't like having every word scrutinized. I'm the kind of guy who makes too many jokes to stand that. As for the friendship, I'm really glad we got it settled because having her as a friend means more to me than, well, a lot, especially these days when my other friends are hard to come by. And so long as I make it so that this paragraph doesn't sound rude or anything, I think it's gonna work out.

But that's where tonight's post ends - with oily hands and a sore toe, to match a heart that'll be on the mend if you give it time.

Keep on rockin, Star-children
-Scotto

#8: Nobody ever feels like ruining the friendship

It's been a long, strange, wonderful day. So much so that I'm thinking I'm gonna stay up a little late and blog about it even though I don't really have time.

I haven't had dinner yet today. And I didn't eat lunch because it just didn't fit in and I'm an idiot.

Class was short today because it was just a brief rundown of the half-semester for the exam next week, and so I went home. Not true-- I stopped by White Oaks and hung out with some Oklahoma kids and left before their 5th, when I'd normally stay.

I then found myself, as planned, down at the mall, watching the dancing santa (or "dancing satan") waiting for Steph & Co, who found me in short order. After a quick introduction, I was following them all around with their shopping. Didn't say much, felt awkward until we split off and Steph, her friend Laura and I went around the bottom floor (or as Stph called it, "the basement?") looking for stuff. I tried to use my H&M gift certificate only to find I didn't get one - only the "receipt!" That's right, I actually didn't get a a weak secret Santa gift - I got none at all! Man, this makes me want to quit more than ever, ha. You should have seen me when I tried to purchase a shirt (everything there is overpriced anyway,) with the gift card sheet - "It's not the card? Oh, uh... I have to go now." I'm never setting foot in there again (as if I ever planned on doing so anyway!)

I wrote those paragraphs last night and I think it's important to make that distinction, so I don't accideentally write "yesterday" and confuse you.... it's now 12:30 in the afternoon on Saturday.

I did end up eating dinner, at about quarter after 1, a few slices of reheated pizza. Yum.

After the mall we all ran out and on a whim, went to see Walk the Line. I haven't gone to a movie on a whim since War of the Worlds, and this one turned out much better. However I managed to go back to my particular mode of shy silence, which always seems to happen when there are too many people around. 5 is a bad number for me, I should have known better. As it was my every attempt to distinguish myself fell flat, except when Steph, Laura (her U-Guelphie friend) broke off. Then I shined -- or was it shone? I liked meeting her, it's always nice to meet the friend-of-friend if they're cool. You feel like you get along better. (Not that this is halloween again - ha!)

After Walk the Line - review to come - it was straight on to Oklahoma and I acted all "no I'm not offended but I'm going to make a point of saying that so maybe you think I am, or I'm just being playful" when they got their tickets together and I had to sit "alone." Terrible game of me to play, but it meant nothing. Especially since Ryan, Becky, Doug and Chris Brown showed up after all (hoo-ray!) and I stole a seat next to Mr. B.

Well I enjoyed the show, not going to review it since I generally don't do reviews of WOSS plays (Fringe was an exception for whatever reason.) As soon as Chris Ferguson began in on his opening number I could tell it was going to be good. Even though apparently the first act was not their best effort I was enjoying it a lot, and the second act really brought it home.

At intermission, Doug and I ran into Mr. Ferguson and we chit chatted - I made some remarks about Adam Hetherington always imitating me, after he said something about how I'd play Ali Hakim... I would, too, since there's no singing in that part. And then, fancy that, I ran into Mr. Guthrie and we had a good long chat about what I've been doing and how much I enjoyed having his class. He was always the good one, even if he was occasionally a tad harsh.

Afterward, after a fond farewell to Steph and the crew, it was off to the Fergusons' for the requisite gathering (after a stopover with Doug at Chris Brown's for picking up of XBox 360,) during which I gladly hung out with the Oklahoma crew and the old gang, with the exception of Ryan and Becky, who sadly split.

It was one of those groovy woss kid nights that comes along once every few weeks or months when the stars align and everybody comes back to town for whatever reason. Not that everyone was there, but it's always so hard to get everyone "there" anyway. I'm going to try to get everyone "here" or at least "somewhere" for "Half-Past"-- whenever what happens.

Feeling just a bit stranded at this moment, though... in a few hours I'll be off to work for eternity-- er, the night, at least. And everyone will probably be off doing a repeat of last night. Think of me once in a while. It'll all be over soon enough.

Oh how I wish I could end this one on a high note, but sadly I'm all out of those. Thank you Classic Bowl for sucking the life right outta me.

The truth is, I dread it, and I've considered trying to get out of tonight's shift, but I know that once I'm there it won't be so bad. If I'm lucky the weather will keep people from coming out and if not, I can deal anyhow. I actually excited about the money I'll get when it's all over with... it'll all be over with tomorrow. That's a good philosophy. Time always passes, and it'll all be over soon.

Hm. I guess there's my high note.

Keep on rockin'
Mr. Williams

#7: Battery of insanities

So I'm sitting in the newsroom. Not really much to say about that except that I'm in between classes and bored. Man, there ought to be more people onloine at this time of day, but everyone's either in class or asleep. And here I am, in between two classes typing on my cramp-inducingly compact iBook keyboard in this quiet little corner of SCAET, with a sweater that pulls over my thumbs and fingers to yes, protect me from cold but also hurt my typing ability. Typos may ensue.

The world can be a complicated place, in that you often find yourself doing things that going against your better judgment just because they are easier, more convenient, or somehow more natural. In the past 24 hours I've found that I've said some really ridiculous things that didn't come out as I'd hoped they would when I made them up in my head. I was talking to someone last night and I got really heavy on her and I regret that just a bit. I'm not gonna beat myself up anymore but I need to move on.

I was initially upset at the craziness of the schedule for who is going to see the show when. I had this romantic ideal that we'd all reunite again and have a grand old time but it has become apparent that can't happen. Like I said, I was upset until I spoke with Chris Brown and realized that most people have exams and aren't all going to see it together. It made me feel less small, less hurt. I can be quite thin-skinned at times, as peaches knows.

I'm still not in the Christmas spirit. I find it difficult to be while I'm still in school. In fact I find the Christmas spirit a difficult thing to find these days personally. I'm so cynical about holiday advertisements and the music being played everywhere on TV and at the mall and at work that it's hard for me to settle down and get into the holiday spirit at all. Maybe once the semester is over and I have time to myself at last I can sit down, reflect, and realize that yes, it is a rather Wonderful Time of the Year, if not the most (I still prefer spring for about a hundred reasons.)

I'm all bottled up with angst over this Ana Yavari script, officially entitled "Drift." I read the entry requirements for Cinefondation and while it doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary about it, it made me think "gee, this is a real thing... I'd better make sure I bring my 'A' game." as if I ever try less. Actually that's somewhat true - sometimes I just let it be a little looser than it should be. On that analogy, this has to be ultra-tight, focussed, and impressive. These people see like a half million films a year (overexaggeration to the max, but still) I need to give them something that will stand out and make them take notice.

I really want to write it but there's so little time these days. Next week, after Tuesday, I may have all the time in the world. I've just gotta hold on.

I'm just sorta slogging through school right now. A few hours ago (over three by now,) I finished my History of Journalism presentation on the Future of Journalism (gee, seems a bit out of place.) It wasn't great, but there were some spectacularly unfortunate ones there that don't even compare on the badness scale. In case you can't tell from my convoluted grammar there that means it was OK. Maybe I didn't give Mitrovica exactly what he expected (since he expects the class to be like his research course, I guess,) but I know I didn't disappoint him any more than half the class did.

I also found it amusing to find that he, teacher of History of Journalism and Research (to other classes) has apparently never heard of Stephen Jarrett, teacher of History and Politics and Writing for Newspapers.

Oh yeah and he's not going to like my profile I don't think. Like I care at this point? Go ahead Mitrovica, do your worst. I dares ya!

Maybe I wouldn't say I'm in the bestest mood, but I'm doin' all right thanks for asking.

Things will be good, eventually.

One more week.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

#6: A lyric we can all hum

It's uncertainty, really, that bothers me. Uncertainty is a killer to me, I can never rest easy until I know something one way or another. as a writer I have the delightful habit of mentall envisioning elaborate worst-case scenarios that are nowhere near accurate.

Take for instance the meeting we journey students had to attend today regarding next semester's roster. I was worried and now that it's over it seems absurd. I didn't know what to expect and what ended up happening is that I was put into a group with many of those zany girls in my class (and several people I've never met) to work on the brand new e-zine. I have confidence that this can work. i'm just glad not to have to be working on the newspaper for months now. After the meeting we all went and caught lunch which was a rare event for me since I usually try to escape.

I'm tired, physically. As is sometimes the case after work I woke up this morning sore to high hell. Didn't want to get up and walk. was glad to just hang around for a few hours before class, as usual... I find that I greatly enjoy that time.

So I'm going to be working on this thing for Ana, which makes me hate work more than ever since instead of sitting down on Saturday and writing it I, as you'll recall, will be at work until 2 in the morning. I'd do it Friday night but I'd frankly rather be seeing the Drama kids.

I taped a note to my monitor that reads "QUIT ALREADY." Bad timing, Scott.

What's controversial? I really don't like the idea of going out and trying to find controversy. I have this perspective that everything controversial is so clichéed that it has no effect. Drugs, AIDS, rape, murder... things that have been pinning down literature for years and people are desensitized to. Nothing affects anymore, you can only hope to engage. But she wanted something controversial so I'm going to do my best. Gosh darnit you can count on me.

Things are levelling out. I'm still kinda screwed for friday (don't know if I mentioned that, but my interview subject cut out and I have no story,) but the workload is simmering down, to borrow a forgotten Cheri Oteri catchphrase. I went from totally freaked out into this state of zenlike "it'll all work out" and thus far, it has.

Well I'm sitting in class and I'm basically about to go this is where this entry ends. Thanks again for the gum, that was really special.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

#5: Rage against the dying of the light

The worst part is, I realized last night that now is pretty much the exact worst time to quit.

I hate the holidays for that. For whatever reason people feel like Christmas is a good time to go bowling, and employers don't like to hire at this time of year. Still, I'm going to be sprucing up my resume soon because I don't expect to get a Valentine's day card from Classic Bowl.

I woke up this morning, about an hour ago, with this intense, profound feeling of dread. It's insane. I was suddenly overcome by fear and loathing about all my school work and my work-work. It's not as bad as my brain is telling me, but my brain tells me it's really, really, really bad.

Last night was the Classic Bowl Christmas party. What can I say? It didn't utterly suck although it wouldn't have been such a bad thing for me if I'd been able to stay in. I got there and felt in a panic, since it ws at Mandarin and I don't like tp eat in public with people too much. I ended up eating minimally which may have seemed odd to anyone around, since I left for the buffet, returned like 10 minutes later with a plate of rice (I ate other stuff too, but I went back for that after I felt better having eaten the rice.) I also managed to catch a glimpse of last night's Arrested Development on the TV, but only a few minutes' worth. Then I bowled a few games with James and Faria (the lovely bartender, my only real ally there,) and called to go home about a half hour later than intended (since bowling had taken so long to get underway, I figured on bowling two games.) Came home to the usual mess and finished my Prime Ministers paper.

So that's one less thing I need to worry about, leaving... four? No, five.

Erm. Screwed. Don't know how I'd feel about coming very close to failing one class. All I would do is just miss one assignment. Sigh... it's a tricky situation.

As you might imagine, Journalism people are very big on deadlines. That's kind of the point.

Life may be more trouble than it's worth. Gotta persevere though. Gotta get them grades, man, go on, do that newspaper (for which there is a meeting tomorrow... joy.) Gotta do the work, graduate and figure out where I belong in this world.

No, I know where I belong, I just need to figure out how to get there.

Crisis? What crisis?

Keep on rockin'-
Scott Williams is crazy

ADDENDUM 12:25: Oh yeah and I told Jess that I'd mention her and Angela in my next post. And they deserve it. I almost miss their ridiculous questions. Almost, that is. That was a simpler, happier time. Oh, the days...

-KOR/SAW

#4: Quit while you've got a head.

I find that ever since Grade 7 or 8 I've kept a very relaxed attitude toward schoolwork. It's unavoidable. I may get stressed about how much I have due but I'll still leave it off. Not exactly a great attitude for a journalist, I think, but hey man I go with it until it stops working. Not until someone shows me something better.

I've got this Mulroney tapes thing due tomorrow. It's crap, I don't like it, I didn't get a sense of what the assignment was and I wasn't able to do much leg work. Then I've gotta get in touch with these social studies people to do a story about them, 1000+ words on Diabetes, (Wed) 2000 on short-term Prime Ministers, (Tues) PDF it up (Wed) Profile Joseph Howe + Present the future of journalism (Thurs) and finally sit down. Oh yes, and work Tuesday and fucking Christmas Party Monday.

Yes, it's a busy week. It'll get capped off by Oklahoma on Friday and then.... this is where things get tricky... work Saturday.

It's as if what I said yesterday about shifts was put to the test this morning when James called me up and asked me to take his shift next Saturday. I said yes after getting a thumb's up from mom, and then she realized (after I had hung up and James had called the manager on duty,) that she had a conflict. And I'm all "Fuck fuck fuck!" and I tried to call him to take it back but it was too late. The names were switched and he would not go back, the prick. This is why I hate work. I haven't asked someone to switch shifts since my first Wednesday. I have this selfish Ayn Rand attitude about it (if I recal Grade 11 philosophy correctly,) where I don't want anyone to ask of me what I have not asked of them, since I have no intention of asking. But what can I do? I can only say "no" so many times before a "yes" comes out. I just hope they don't keep coming. My intention is to quit very, very soon. I am going to actively seek other opportunities starting tomorrow.

So I've been trying to find someone to hang out with me while I'm pulling my 9 hours on Saturday.

I have so many fuzzy underdeveloped thoughts in my head at the moment. Maybe I'll get them sorted out by tomorrow.

Never hated work so much as today.

At least I watched Monty Python's the Meaning of Life today. One of my top 5 Sunday movies, an article I'll be posting on Interneta soon.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

#3: Someone you should never trust

So I'm facing another night of avoiding working on anything. I am, on the other hand, watching Bottle Rocket.

I don't wanna go to this lousy christmas party on Monday. I think I've made it fairly clear on this blog that I don't have a great deal of fondness for those I work with. It's hostility born out of the fact that I work with them, for the most part, not that there's anything wrong with them. Maybe it's 50/50. Don't like that I was essentially pressured into going, don't like that it's on a Monday night, don't like that I have to provide a Secret Santa gift. I do like a few of the people I work with, but not particularly the guys who do my job since i'm frequently getting calls and being offered to take their shifts, and saying no since I don't like to work on a moment's notice. If they said "Scott can you take next Thursday for me?" maybe I would. But I never take "tonight" or "tomorrow."

It's been a weird day. Did all right at bowling, Eric busted his glasses but thankfully the glasses drama was ended when dad showed up out of the blue to take him to Hakim, so thank goodness he's no longer complaining about that. Yeah, and we didn't go grocery shopping because mom was too concerned with Christmas shopping, which had the indirect result of Eric's glasses deal but whatev'.

If I had some company I'd be a little happier, but all the same there was talk of going over to Conorton's tonight and while I'd be up for that I kind of just want to chill around the house, have a Coke, watch the Movie Network (Kinsey is on, should be good.) It's weird. I feel less like being social than ever. Well, it is winter. I'd be more outgoing if the weather were nicer, I think. All the same i'm content just to do this. Not to offend the good friends who offered me a night out.

So I guess it's well into Christmastime now. no point in being a grinch about it, it's here to say. At least, until the 25th and then it's out the door, giving us a week to plan for New Year's.

Well anyway I've not got anything of note to say. I just want someone to talk to.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

#2: Drifting into Smoke and Dust

First of all, and this is very important, thank you Alyssa for the comment you left. I know it lacks a name, but you are the only person who would ever leave that comment. You are, after all, my partner in beat, for all eternity. It's just too bad faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses. And let's not even get into the best minds of our generation. Holy, holy, holy.

I had this thing I was supposed to tape (because I wanted to, because it would help me, not because I had to,) but it wasn't on. What now? Screw you CBC. If I fail Writing for Newspapers (*I won't,) it's on your head (*maybe it will be anyway.) Now I have to read.

I have re-gained any lost appreciation I once had for Fridays today. This was a good friday. Not that I can remember too many bad friedays, and last Friday was a particular blast. Although by the time it picked up steam it was already Saturday but we hadn't slept, so it's all relative.

Research for Print. First off, I applaud any class that uses videos, at least those that do not involve Peter Wildman. (SCREW YOU GRADE 11 ENTREPRENEURSHIP.) Today, Mary Lynn O'Shea took her class in a different direction by showing us a video on 9/11 and making it into a sort of "what's wrong with this picture?" of research and context. It was a hectic time, and reflecting upon it gve me the uneasiest feeling... like recalling all the helplessness that my little Grade 9 mind was prone to with all the news coverage and video feeds and what I now know to be lacklustre reporting. I know I didn't have such a great handle on the way of the world back then and it deeply troubled me that that could happen. Now I'm all desensitized and worn with time. And a little jaded.

Okay, a lot jaded.

The point is, today was a good day in class. I can usually count on Mary Lynn to send me into the weekend on a good note. After all, I do eat in her class more than any other. And I got some inspiration pertaining to an article I have to write her.

Which reminds me of the plethora of articles and assorted jibbajabba I'm due to hand in. That's what this weekend will be dedicated to.

It was a weird day. I remembered exactly how on the outside I am at school. Can't put my finger on it. Part of it is an unwillingness to socialize. Another part is... no, that's all there is to it. They want me to socialize and I won't be prodded into it. So they found someone who is definitely interested in being part of the scene. Am I insane? Should I just throw myself into the scene? I don't think so. There's no part of me that wants to. At least I have made some friends. A whole lot of them jsut don't seem to go to Sheridan.

It's been a good night. Its features included pizza, Seinfeld, some enjoyable msn conversations, accomplishing some goals (as in, I'm actually working on Redneck Volume 2!!) Fargo, peaches, the word "friendlationship," and a rare tuning in to the CBC. I'm feeling good about the weekend. I'm feeling good about the world. If I were a total dork I'd say I were high on life, but that's riduckulous.

Next friday's going to be a big day, I'm thinking. It's Oklahoma, the most looked-forward to social event in months, eclipsing both Thanksgiving and even Commencement in terms of anticipation. I do believe there is to be a gathering afteward, which is even more exciting that seeing Chris Ferguson sing and mack on Sonya in front of everyone. I relish every opportunity to see the WOSS crew. The old gang. How sad is that that these people are my old gang? That to Cary, I'm "Scott, from my high school." It's a weird scene, mang. At least he sometimes adds "he's a really funny guy," which as I've already discussed, is a blessing and a curse.

Well I'm feeling good tonight, so I'll leave you with this: those who do not learn from history will be doomed to repeat it, after failing the exam.

Keep on rockin'
Your Scotto

#1: So little to do, so much time

There are three things I want to do tonight. The first is this blog entry. The second is that I actually want to start my profile that was due yesterday in J-History. The third is that I'd like to do just a little writing on my book. I was planning on taking a lon break but I think I'm still going to do short bursts of writing. I was pushing myself hard and getting crap results (in my opinion) and now I just need to write some really rich stuff in small doses when I get a chance.

I'm listening to the Einstein soundtrack. That has me in a good mood for the night. It's really good music, and there is some meaning attached to anyone who saw the play.

Today was thursday, and thursdays always seem to represent bad luck to me. I can't say why, although it dates back to February and ever since the beginning of this year I've had to wake up early on Thursdays for my only 8:00 class. Don't get me started on the class in general, but today's was weird since the main topic of discussion was Blogs. Not this blog or any blog resembling it, but news blogs, political blogs, mainstream blogs. Blogs like InstaPundit, or even Emerson's Scanners Blog at Rogerebert.com. Not Scott Williams Presents. Even Haasim's got mentioned because a guy in the class decided to bring it up. Haasim, I think, is probably reading this right here, and I'd like to publicly thank him for not dragging me into it because this is no public forum, this is no great touchstone of ideas. It's just me. And I am unique, you see. You know it's true.

Have you ever been sitting at a table with a guy and a girl, and the guy is so obviously flirting with the girl, and the girl really seems to be into it? It's awkward ain't it? I was a little put off. And I felt this bizarre need to compete with the guy and be like "hey, I can be witty and charming too," except I was more or less a failure on that, so I guess... he won her? Not that I was particularly competing for her (although a few months ago, who knows.) Either way I don't like to look comparatively dull-witted.

I was in high spirits, however, given that I was granted an extension on my Profile by Mitrovica, whom I will thank by never again immitating in a sarcastic way. I've now managed to clear the way of things that are pressing and stressing, although the future is rapidly approaching, which I can't help but fear.

Well the night has fled and I no longer truly feel like working on anything. Oh initiative. Why must you flee?

Well I'll get it all sorted out. I think I've maybe been eating too much red meat, which is a rare thing for me to say, but there you go. I'm feeling ill.

There are a number of other things I might say, but I lack energy for now.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto the tired worn soul