v11: A Nation of Orphans

I have so much on my mind these days. And given that I am unrestrained by length or content, you'd think I'd just pour it all out.

But i'm lacking the energy, the drive to do that. Sure I could bitch for the seventeen billionth (more realisitcally, 497th) time about how I've got too much schoolwork. Sure I could muse about the past or summarize my day, but I haven't the desire.

I got up. I went to class. I fell asleep during a video on the Trojan War. I ate lunch. I hung out. Globalization happened. Mike Walsh is nutty. He kind of reminds me of a hyperactive version of the Del Preston character in Wayne's World 2. "I had to beat them to death with their own shoes."

Haasim and I spoke today about this very blog, thus proving the old agade that this is in fact the most popular site on the internet (*not true, but close enough if I say so.) that I receive strange adulation and recognition for doing little more than talk about myself for over a half hour a night. It's basically been the only thing I've been able to talk about since October, the phenomenon of the blog. And if people don't stop talking about it, I'll never get over it.

But he turns to me today and says "I was reading your blog recently and wow, you're pretty full of yourself," jokingly, obviously. I mean, I'm the one constantly eferring to myself as "self-centered" and a "narcissist." That's how I must appear through this blog, but, y'know I never purported to be a pundit or a newswire. It's just me and I always feel the need to address this when it gets brought up, because I don't want people getting the wrong idea. Don't say self-centered like it's a bad thing. Having this place to release my negativity into the universe has done wonders for my ability to behave myself in social situations. And as usual, I invite usage of the "back" button if it gets a little weird.

Weird, like, if I were to start talking about a dream I had last night about me and a fellow classmember (not to be named,) racing around in a beaten-up car without brakes or a roof, swerving all over the road in pursuit of a story (good lord, school has officially invaded my sleep.)

It is, I suppose, officially "gorgeous" out. And I say this not only in terms of weather but in terms of the people you see in public. The girls in particular have replaced the long sleeves, jackets and sweaters with the sleeker, lighter, obviously more revealing apparrel. I say this not as a creepy stalker guy as Sonya LaFleur recently believed me to be, but as a mere casual admirer of the form.

As is customary for the Easter weekend, I will be heading tomorrow to North Bay to visit the family. I'm not extraordinarily happy as it means I won't be seeing all the gang here in Oakville, but it is an obligation I made myself not to miss any of the two annual trips, which I have ever upheld. My cross to bear. There are worse things in life than a rare visit to the family.

Ah-he-hennyway, I think that about covers it for tonight. I could go deeper in depth about this article I'm working on with the Canadian Action Party, but I don't have too much to say right now.

Hoping the weekend goes off without a hitch. Don't despair if you don't hear from me until Sunday: its means I've been bored to paralysis. (My joke about northern Ontario.)

Keep on rockin'
Scott