x19: Grey of the fingertips

You'd think I'd learn. After all, I'm in school, I might as well be learning stuff about life if not journalism. Instead it's a continual "hmm." Getting the same-ish lessons time after time that I desperately need.

The big one is stress management. Anyone who's ever had like one conversation with me could probably tell stress and I have had an interesting relationship ove the years. I don't deal well with it, and it won't leave me alone. And despite what they'll tell you in private conversations, instructors/teachers/profs (we had this conversation earlier this week) have a fun little habit of pouring the pressure on like water on hot rocks at a sauna. So this was the case with the e-zine, which is due, for whatever reason, this week as opposed to next week or the week after. Next week I could understand, but nay -- we get to finish this bad boy up two weeks ahead of everything else. And guess who just wasn't going to budget his time for that? Right here.

I refused to believe it and didn't play along for a second. When everyone was freaking out last night, I was busy with other things (poetry anthology, which was due earlier this morning.) That, which I'd been putting off since the beginning of time (or this semester,) came first. And I polished it off handily, too. However, as for e-zine, I was sitting on top of two completed articles and awaiting two interviews (or more accurately, one interview and a number of questionnaires between two and five.)

Things came to a head and I was more than a little embarrassed by my incomplete project. Well after a somewhat antagonistic (on my part) or rather defensive exchange between me and Jody Sanderson, we came to terms. There's no real way to explain what we discussed, or to frame how we reached the outcome. It will remain a forgotten mystery of this blog why I got upset and somewhat aggressive, but it basically amounts to my as-yet-still unresolved issues of everyone and everything seeming to come down on me at once. Like I said, under stress, I get a little mental, if you want to draw it in black and white. The truth is much more complicated.

Oh and by the way, work on tuesday was good, everything went off without a hitch and I left feeling confident that I can really make this work. Which will be a good feeling to have as my next shift is Friday until midnight... it's moonlight madness, ladies and gents. We're open until 11.

So where do I stand? I have no idea. As usual I'm left looking at what life I have left and thinking that maybe, if I make the right moves, this are gonna maybe be okay. All the same, it's not like some magical revelation, as I wish it'd be. But give it time.

Life at this age is way more complicated than it needs to be, man. Not that I want to spend my time/life sitting on the couch playing video games, but I'd like to reach the middle ground before I find myself dropped completely off the deep end, to mix the metaphor.

I suppose there's nothing else to report today. Hope you've got a satisfactory amount of the shootin' one this week. I know I'm not around like I used to be.

We don't talk like we used to, like we should. I hope you're well.

Keep on rockin'
Scotto

x18: Take to the skies

I don't know if anyone read my last night's post, although I have faith it got out there somewhere. I didn't want to send out the negativity, but I needed an exorcism. Hopefully it didn't cause anybody to get too heavy on their own business. That'd be a drag.

I'm writing this from the newsroom because I feel the need to get one out tonight and with the hours I'm down for at HMV tonight, I'm not sure I'll be in any shape to form a coherent thought, let alone type it out when I'm done.

I spent much of the night tossing and turning. There were a few reasons for this, I suppose. Obviously, I'm finding myself overworked and have resolved not to "take it" anymore for now. Twisted Sister style, maybe. Also, I was worried I was getting sick again, although that doesn't seem to have materialized.

The big one was that I was tossing and turning thinking about leaving. Getting out of town for a while. Forget how or when, I'll figure that out when the time comes. It looks, though, like I might have a great deal of free time in the spring if I get what I'm after as far as placement goes. Time will tell on that. I think I might just hit the road. I don't know if I'm still going to feel this way when the opportunity comes, but the idea hasn't really left my head in months to the point where it's a foregone conclusion and not just a fleeting fantasy. I think I have to go.

I wore a blue long-sleeved shirt to school today. I don't think I've worn it for months, if not years. The last time I can remember is New York City, but I'm sure I've worn it since, and left the sleeves rolled up on my hanger. I'm wearing a tie, too. Outwardly it's because I was taping a poetry reading with Joe and wanted to look the part for the lines I delivered (square white guy.) But really, I decided to dress this way today. I tied the tie myself, which is something I've only done once before. It's not something I'm going to make a habit of doing, but maybe it pays to be unlike yourself in some insignificant way for a day.

Well I'm doing my best to deal. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x17: Another thing nobody needs

So I feel like I'm about to snap, which is definitely not the right headspace I should be in to go to work tomorrow.

The interface for blogger is being weird right now and it's sapping my will to write, but I'll press through.

I think the phrase that best sums it up is... "waughhh."

E-zine delays. Slow internet connections. Bundles of assignments upon bundles of assignments. Recurring illness maybe. No inspiration. No direction. No respite. Man, take your pick what my biggest problem is right now. As I type this, the cursor moves slowly across the field, just a step behind my fingers. My life crawls on the floor tearing at its hair.

I'm just choking on this shit. Drowning. My head is being held under the watter. I'm not struggling, not more than anyone else, it's just too goddamn much. you hear me world? You're seriously asking too much and I don't think I'm going to take any more.

What can I say? I've had it for now. And I've got two or three weeks left of it, which is the worst part, but I'm reaching my boiling point and if I don't back off for now I'm gonna blow. You all know me, you know I'm capable of simply exploding, but I don't think you could anticipate what's bubbling under my surface.

And it's only monday. But I was sitting in law class today and I just thought, "I've gotta get out of here. I'm going to die here, with this laptop plugged into the table and this desk chair that'll never be at the proper height and this teacher asking unanswered questions to comatose students." I don't know what to do about that.

This is sort of a weird, vague, almost cryptic entry and I don't like it but it's got to get out in the world. I need to make this known. On Facebook my status has been for a while "Scott is wanting to get off the grid." That's a small part of my big problem. I don't mean to sound melodramatic -- because this sort of thing isn't normally what I'm about -- but did you ever just look at society and think, "Jesus, there's something seriously wrong here, this isn't how things should be."

And I can't fix society, God knows I won't even try, but I can pick myself up by my bootstraps and fix myself. It's just gonna take some time and patience.

I didn't sit down with this post in mind, and I resisted writing it, but this is all that would come out.

Keep on rockin'
Scott

x16: Never expecting what's around the corner

It's been a long couple of days. Roughly 48 hours, give or take.

I don't even feel like writing an entry, but it's one of those weekends where I absolutely have to, given my (fairly vague) critera for when I ought to go. Today fits right into the category of "even if your hands are tired."

They're tired because I've been staring at this damn laptop screen for a few hours working through the layout of this ezine. I've been grumbling about it for weeks and have meant to type up a whole rant about it at some point, but more important* stuff kept coming up

*Relatively speaking, since if you started trying to find "importance" on this blog... it'd be a tricky search.

I can't get comfortable. I'm all fidgety and shit.

I couldn't go to bowling yesterday, there was no ride available and I just thought "fuck it." Didn't even go do a bowl off despite knowing sufficiently in advance I wouldn't be able to go.

It was kind of a good thing, too, because I had committed to this open house on Saturday morning and I didn't realize at the time the conflict. I came into the school, got to borrow a t-shirt (XL, which as everyone knows, is my size,) and a nametag. I got to spend 5 hours standing around talking to people about Print Journalism. More accurately, however, I got to stand around telling people who to talk to about Media Arts, as it's a much more popular program and we were standing right next to them. Furthermore, most of the time it'd be some high school kid come by with his parents, and the kid would look comatose as he mumbled, "I'm... interested in, uh... journalism," and the parents give me the Spanish inquisition** about my homework, class locations, and other ultimately inconsequential attributes of the program.

**(Which I, like many others, did not expect. Har har.)

Anyway, there are worse ways to get $9 an hour and a free lunch. It kinda killed me for the rest of the day, and I sat around until Risk.

While I was at school, I hopped onto a computer during the longest 5-minute break I ever took and found an MSN message waiting for me of CB asking me if Risk was still on. Not knowing it was on the agenda to begin with, I said I supposed so, and let me know. Flash forward that evening, and we are finally, after many months of failed attempts, Risking it.

Not a bad night, but to be honest, halfhearted. We had a visitor, a friend of Chris and Pat's, and he joined. Guest-players often shake up the game in a needed way, but add an x-factor that sometimes doesn't work, especially when he has to leave artway through. It happens, though and the experience was a decent enough one. Besides, like I said, we were distracted. Naturally, we were more interested in the fact that Chris bought a Wii last week. It was finally time to shake hands with a nunchuk.

And? Not bad. I can see one of these bad boys gracing my home in a few months or years, after Mario Galaxy comes out and the price jumps down a bit. I threw my shoulder out playing Wii Sports Baseball, but it's a lot of fun. And it will help a lot of fat kids, if not give them a fatal heart attack.

A pig is a dog with down's syndrome.

I got home after 2 and as usual warded off sleep as long as I could manage, ultimately crashing around 3:30.

Today was a gorgeous day out, but I squandered it. Initially waiting for grocery shopping, we got on that late, and I wanted to walk out for comics and by the time I went out for that it started to chill again. Mwerf.

Being that it's only a month until boxing day, it's finally time for people to put the christmas lights out. I fondly remember the first year mom ever asked me and Eric to string up the lights outside. Charged with this task, we gladly did a horrible job sticking lights to our metal frame railing with electrical tape. We haven't been asked to do so since.

I'm really starting to get moving on this ezine thing, which is a good thing I suppose since it's due really soon.

Now as for this poetry anthology... hrmph.

But that's why I come into school on days like Monday and Tuesday when I am largely free.

So keep on rockin'
-Scott

x15: Speaking with a voice not your own

So it's been a while since my last update. I don't strictly have a reason for this, other than the relatively exhausting few days I've just been through. I'll try to go through it with my usual overly-attentive detail, but some stuff is going to be left out, whether accidentally or on purpose. So bear with me.

I'll start in the middle and work my way back to the beginning if there's time.

I was at lunch with some friends earlier today. We were at Subway, the restaurant of choice for Haasim. It's near to the school, but not really my favourite place even for subs. However, being stuck as I was into going to Law class that afternoon (thanks to the rescheduling-happy Stephen Douglas,) I had no place else to be and besides wanted to at least be a part of the group. Haasim assured me that's the best reason to do something, which makes sense, because that's why I started drinking.

If you don't know by now the hang-up I have with public dining, I'll sum up. I can't tell exactly the reason, but being awkward as I am I don't do well when food and socializing are combined. I prefer to be someplace comfortable with people I'm comfortable with, or best, alone. I'm not and probably never will be, comfortable in a Subway. Some people have probably seen me eat, and usually that's when the stars align and I'm cool. In the newsroom, for whatever reason, and sometimes the caf. Not restaurants, though, so I didn't eat. My eating schedule has been screwy lately anyhow and I wasn't hungry.

There were three of us, een though we'd started as six. The three girls had opted for McDonald's (decidedly un-ladylike but whatever.) I got a Coke, the guys got their sandwiches, we sat and shot the breeze. For whatever reason, the discussion turned to females. Well, I know the reason. Whenever one of your friends starts dating someone, maybe you reflect on your own situation. And when it's two people at school, you're maybe compelled to make little jokes just to lighten the mood. So yeah, romance appeared to be on everyone's mind in this decidedly un-romantic November afternoon.

So Haasim asks me what the deal is between me and this girl, (name withheld for reasons of not embarrassing the shit out of her, and me by extension.) I laughed quietly, because that's what you do when someone mistakenly thinks you're involved with someone, or have intentions. It stems from the increasingly visible friendship where I call her a "fucking geek" -- the irony being my own overwhelming geekiness. So I wave it off but am left with a thought all the way through the rest iof the day. Shit, dude, I have too many female friends.

That's unfair, sure, and I certainly don't intend on dropping any of them, but I gotta wonder about this, how it came to this. Did I just get crushed too many times when I was a moody teenager (numerically I'm still barely a teenager, and I'm not nearly so moody as I used to be,) that I just settle in for what I figure will be the inevitable result?

I've shied as long as humanly possible from dropping the romantic card on this blog, because I didn't want to come off like a whiny shmuck, but dude it has been a while and a lot of this shit has built up. When it comes to women, I've had fantastically bad luck over the years -- from acceptable "she's just not into you," and not unusual, "she's already with someone," to downright nutty, "she's not sure if she wants to" and flat-out unfortunate "she can never seem to fit it into her schedule." And all this has to come after you meet a girl, decide she's attractive and try to insinuate yourself into her life. There was a time... a long time, long ago... when I thought I was the one with the problem, but it's been a while since I really had that low of an opinion about myself (barring a few isolated moments of despair.) The world is a [i]fucked-up[/i] place to try to fall in love, and I recommend against making that your primary goal. But don't listen to me. That's how I got into this mess in the first place. But you can't be Frank Booth, fucking everything that moves.

We got back to school after Subway and I was immediately hungry, and frustrated with my low performance on my Law midterm. Like I said, Law has never been my area. I ended with a Mr. Sub toasted Reuben sandwich. It may be unhealthy as all hell, but that Reuben guy sure knew how to design a sammich.

My frustration with my radio station grows. It doesn't even wake me up anymore. I just get these weird dreams where the DJ's are having conversations in front of me and when I try to talk my voice doesn't come out. It's wild, experiencing something in a dream that can't -- or has yet to -- happen in life. If I had money, I'd gladly shell out of sattelite because I need some fucking music. Good music, too.

I had a screwed-up time at work on Wednesday, and I've been both eager and nervous to write about it. It went fine, except for a few short moments, one of which amounted to a probably record-setting clusterfuck in HMV register history, all my fault. See, there's this manager, Lindsay, and she always seems to be the one around when I fuck up. She's a little brusque to begin with and the strain of 9 or 10 holiday temps still fucking up after 3 weeks is probably trying on her patience. I couldn't even recall the sign in/out procedure with her over my shoulder in a crunch, even though I had nailed it earlier. So I walked around for the rest of the night in a bad mood because I had made a fool of myself.

Then she called me to the back and we had a little talked. She asked me how things were, and I told her I was fine except for that one moment where I lost it. She asked if that happened often. I told her no, which is what anyone would say, regardless of its truth. Given that I didn't have any such issues last week, I'd assume it was just a onetime deal (I had stupidly closed the cash drawer before giving this lady a toonie for change, for the record, and wanted the damn thing back open.)

I'm not bad at cash, I'm bad at processes. Voiding shit, re-doing shit, signing off, cashing out, these are not my best areas. But most of the time I don't have to worry about it because cash is the simplest fucking thing in the world. But maybe it doesn't take too much to trip me up. I'm wiser after this week, I've learned some lessons, and I'm not going to let this shit stress me out, because I'm not gonna let it happen. Besides, nobody talks about all the sales that go well. I took in over $3000 all told, and only 4 transactions had to be voided. Fuckin' a, man.

It's after times like these that I reflect on the fates that brought me to HMV. If that storage place hadn't collapsed, I never would have taken the HMV gig, even though they in no way overlapped. I just wouldn't have been looking at the time I applied.

I'm into sound poetry lately, after poet Sonnet L'Abbé came into our poetry class on Thursday. She was a cool lady with a good grip on what she did and why, although I'd agree that her material is sometimes unfocussed, but that can be as much an asset to a writer as a liability (after all, some might say the same about me.) She does what she does well. I'm going to be writing some, so look for that on Interneta, along with a long-overdue update.

I think that about covers it. No, there's more, but it's not relevant at all. I didn't mean to beat myself up too bad in this post so if it seemed that way, just look past it to my good-natured, lightly self-deprecating nature.

And keep on rockin'
-Scotts

x14: Rain like a drumroll

So, there's no easy way to put this... I have fleas. Maybe. I think.

Okay, that's an overexaggeration. What happened was my dog went to the vet, and he apparently had fleas (which would explain the increased self-chewing he's been engaging.) For the past few months I've been waking up with itchy red bites thinking, jeez, isn't mosquito season over? I seriously thought it was. And I'm pretty sure it is. So the fleas have apparently been getting at me. But I don't think I honestly "have" fleas.

Maybe the fleas have me, though.

Today was a long pointless day. Eager to escape the household, I went to school, which I did not have, and have not had for almost a week, in a sort of artificial reading week phenomenon. I mentioned thursday and friday's classes being cancelled. Monday, Stephen Douglas moved Law to Friday again (which was the last straw for many, including MaryLynn,) and today I just don't have class at all. So I've not been to a class since my last Newsroom Without Walls (with the mid exception, I suppose, for e-zine.)

I went in, though, because I don't want to be trapped in the basement with my brothers any more than I have to, and it was a nice enough day. I ended up getting some work done for e-zine, too, which is key, since it does not look like I'll ever come close to following Sanderson's outline. I've been meaning to rant about it for a while, and now I don't feel like it. The gist being it's an assload of work in a rigid timeline I refuse to adhere to. I bullied myself into doing it on comics and not following my initial concept of a literary submission mag, you know, helping people circumvent that "you have to get published to get published" moebius strip. I went with comics because she gave this great big speech on writing what you know and are interested in, and I'm just flat out of other ideas for myself. I don't feel like being original on this. There are other projects more worthy of attention (despite not getting it due to school.)

So I wrote the one article I could at the time without my resources present, and then hung around for a few hours to keep Amanda company, since she'd be there until at least 8 waiting for a photo feature. Good for her. As a reward for her endurance, I did something I wasn't sure I'd ever do. I showed her (a person from school,) Half-Past Eight PM.

The reaction was indirectly positive, although she's not the type to laugh a lot at the deadpan gags that weave throughout it, and the movie is best seen with an audience of, I don't know, five? Comedies play better to groups. You're more likely to laugh if someone else is. I also lent the DVD to Haasim. I'd wanted to try ripping it to my computer and putting a trailer or something up on YouTube. I don't think I can, though. At least, it'll be a tough go at creating a half-decent-looking trailer in iMovie. What a loathesome program.

The first-round voting for the CBA's will be up by the time you read this. I have my doubts that SWP will make it through, due to lack of exposeure, but maybe my loyal readership has rallied around me with support. I'm not throwing in the towel just yet, I just suspect underexposure may keep me from advancing. In fact, if I am out of the running, I will declare SWP the Uncrowned Best Personal Blog in the country, nay, galaxy. And why am I focussing on this so much?

Well, didn't I tell you? I haven't had a real class in almost a week.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotts

x13: They makin' you dance tonight?

Other peoples' romance. Stuff I really oughtn't be hearing or discussing. That's somehow become the theme of the day. And since I discuss pretty much anything I hear, fairly well indiscriminately, that's probably going to be the bulk of the content of this post. Are you drooling with excitement?

That'd be nasty.

It goes back, prophetically enough, to what I said last night about the abudant presence of platonic female in my headspace these days. For instance, women in Print Journalism outnumber men by some obscene number, and most of them are already occupied to the point where I've basically long since given up trying. Yes, ever the optimist, right? So I'm sitting at my computer, at a table surrounded by these females, who are in their feminine way going on about bad pick-up lines and awkward dates and shit I can't help but eavesdrop. Consider the girl who was told at a party that she was "like, the #1 hottest girl here," and was then offered a "Number One High Five!!" each time the dude in question ran into her thereafter.

But the thing that doesn't involve me that most interests me is the saga of my cousin and his girlfriend. They've been living together in Windsor ever since he had some blowup with his dad and got the hell out of there. Or something. Anyway, he's been there, being a replacement father figure for the woman's two kids (eight and ten?!) for a few months, but recently he apparently ran into some financial trouble and they were headed for a messy break-up. Nobody didn't really see it coming, and I was amused rather than surprised when their joint MSN account now reads "I'M SINGLE," featuring the display pic of an angry fiery cartoon face. So I go home to get the scoop and the sad/funny thing is that he can't get his friend to rent a U-Haul and help him back home until the weekend. So....... they got back together, despite being in debt, impovershed, and dysfunctional in every conceivable way. The first break-up never takes, a perverse law of relationship dynamics that I have lived and observed on a number of occasions. I could think of exceptions, but it's not like you can make a rule saying "the first break-up always takes." That's not nearly as fascinating.

I have set about importing my CD collection to iTunes lately. It's nice to have music with me, even though my CD collection has never been varied -- I didn't get into music until Icould steal it without consequence, and have recently transitioned out of that, buying occasional CD's when it suits me. So what I've got consists of some BNL, a couple White Stripes, my beloved obscurities like the Coral and Dexy's Midnight Runners, a Beatles album, The Clash, and more Aerosmith than most people could ever conceive of (with an assload more yet to be imported.)

Other peoples' romances. A while back, a vague acquaintence categorized by default as a friend of mine on Facebook wrote a note (their less-enthusiastic equivalent of a blog,) about why he hadn't declared on his profile that he was "Interested in: Women." Now, this dude was a soft-spoken intellectual Korean type, if you'll pardon the archetype. I never really expected to encounter him online and in that event I understood completely that he would keep such information to himself. However somebody - whether himself or one of his acquaintences - didn't think that a sufficient answer, so he declared that, although it was his preference, he didn't dare acknowledge it, fearing it would contradict his image as a studious, worldly-concerned mature individual. He even presented this imaginative hypothetical situation in which one of his teahers from White Oaks (the inimitable Mr. Guthrie) discovered Facebook (now THERE'S a thought!) discovered his profile, and, upon learning one of his prized students was "Interested in: Women," became irreperably shocked at this crass display of hedonistic reprobatry.

(I may have just invented a word.)

I found this note fascinating and am disappointed it is no longer available for me to peruse. As it stands, it made me think about my own image. fortunately, I have never attempted to maintain an image that is concerned with the quest for knowledge. Among intellectuals I'm known to be quite ribald, and around normal people I can be just plain gross. Given the poem I presented for my summative, a Kerouac piece called Mexican Loneliness (go seek it out,) Guthrie would doubtfully be surprised to learn I was Interested in: Women." Now, as to why I never filled out "Religious Beliefs" or "relationship status," well those are totally unrelated matters.

But it does make me think about the way I present myself here on the blog, and the audience I am reaching. I get in the neighbourhood of 10-15 hits per day, mostly but by no means entirely from the Cogeco Burlington server, which means I have a strong local following of devoted fans.... well, let's face it, friends. I also have gotten random hits from New Zealand and Houston, which I hope to see again soon. I don't advertise th blog, especially to those who may at one time have been mentioned, because I have this prevaling fear they won't like what I've said (and if you need the story about that, you need only look to about a year ago, or as far back as Jess & Angela. Hurray, they've been mentioned.) A number of people actually find the blog by searching (or "googling") themselves and finding this place. I think it's a damn lucky strike that I can't googlesearch my own name and get this site (which also means other peope seeking me out can't either,) despite literally being all over the internet as far as blogs, articles, web forums, and of course, Interneta.

Which brings me to my big culminating point... visit the Canadian Blog Awards site and vote for me as best personal blog. I wanted to get nominated as best cultural blog, but apparently do qualify, you need culture. But if I can foster my ground troops to support me, I think I can lock up this "Personal Blog" thing, since let's face it, I've re-defined the standards. This will be my 652nd post in as many years, all of them longer than most people an probably sustain an actual conversation, all of them incredibly interesting I say! And only a few of them horribly, horribly depressing.

This isn't so much a blog as it is a very long story that features me as the central character.

Keep on rockin'
Scott Williams

x12: Faceless familiarity

So I figure I owe the blog a posting. I mean, it's the end of the weekend and I've not been heard from. I'm flippin' exhausted and I have to at least try to write an article for the paper (my life being the story of a guy getting roped into shit reluctantly,) but I owe the blog a go.

I sat down last night to try to capitalize on my still being up at 2:00, but my brain was a little addled, so it didn't come out properly.

What happened was, a little bored waiting for dinner at Dad's, I logged onto MSN and poked around a bit, eventually getting notice of some kind of small get-together at a friend's place (Wing.) Now, I was forewarned, since everyone my age is still off at their respective schools, I'd have to mingle with youngers. I figured, okay, if Chris and Pat will be there, it'll be fine. Deciding to pretend to be mature, I opted out of drinking. Little Wing, meanwhile, had a small gathering of his own kind on the upstairs level, and we were on notice not to slip them any alcohol. Not having any -- and besides, not being a major asshole -- I complied.

The evening wore on. The usually strange things that happen at the Wing place happened -- the dogs weren't there to run away, but the smoke detector went a little haywire, people got sick left and right (mostly, and this was the fun part, among the younger clan,) one stupid fucking drunk kid was detained until he surrendered his keys and I may have made someone sick inadvertently when they stole my germ-laced pizza. But that's their own fault now isn't it.

I attempted not to make myself look like a creeper, with modest success. The lack of drunkeness definitely helped on that front. I didn't have CB at my side so I was on my own in terms of bridging the age gap. On the plus side, Chris F had brought a copy of London Calling to play, and hey, nobody doesn't like the Clash. (On the downside, the speakers just couldn't handle Simmonon's bass.)

But anyway, all the chaos served to amuse me. There was just one minor-major annoyance that was still with me when I woke up and is still buzzing my head as I type this, teeth gritting, nostrils flared with suppressed rage. I'll save it for another rant, though.

The night took forever to end. I got home and hung around with the brothers, who were still up probably well after I went to bed. I had been eager to get out for the night, because my mom and grandma had gone to the wedding of a distant relation (mom's cousin, I reckon,) and left Xena here, and I was in no mood to deal with her barking. She was still more or less at it when I returned, but at least I could go to sleep to get away from it.

Meanwhile, after feeding us last night, Dad went out to Burlington to visit some family friends. Were I not otherwise engaged I might've tagged along. In fact, that was the message that was waiting for me when I got home at 1:30-or-whatever, "Why didn't u come with ur dad?" That was from Alison, the daughter of the couple Dad and Deb visited. Now, we go back a long ways, but inceasingly I fear we don't have a lot to talk about, and that gets more and more likely as time goes on. I remember an early post on this blog -- sometime during summer 2004 -- when I randomly ran into her at the movies. I was seeing Fahrenheit 9/11 (which I wouldn't usually have, but anyway) and she was seeing White Chicks (which is unforgivable.)

But I would probably have gone, since I've missed out on a number of opportunities to see her over the last few years and we probably ought to catch up (with the prevailing fear that my life doesn't stack up never far from my mind.)

Which reminds me of the overabundance of female acquaintences in my life. It's starting to get a little... hmph.

Naturally, it always comes back to women, but I'm not all that concerned at the moment. Fall is, shall we say, not a very romantic season.

Well anyway, I'll leave you with that, and the promise that tomorrow I'll probably be in a mood for frustrated rambling about school, so you all have that to look forward to.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x11: Still suffering symptoms he never had

The world is sickness right now. I've clawed my way back to 90% health -- merely sniuffling and occasionally coughing a bit. Eric is trying his hardest to get over this insane stomach cold he's stricken with. I think I deserve some commendation for sitting here as he's taken to the couch, where he sleeps, coughs, and vomits in a bucket, preferably while I'm not looking. Brandon's just come down with something althought from the looks of it it ain't nearly so bad as what we've been going thorugh the past two point five weeks.

Today was a long lazy day that began yesterday. I was at the e-zine meeting as scheduled, except I hadn't done any of what was asked of me. It was subconsciously deliberate since I didn't know what was due, and wouldn't have done it anyway. I joked around with the teacher, Jody Sanderson, to get on her good side about my laziness. What can I say? My charm is a deadly weapon sometimes.

So I got that done within a few hours and spent a long while talking to Tammy about... whatever came up, I guess. A great deal of time tohugh was spent talking about the think piece, an assignment due in history the next day (today) that I had not started. It was the kind of thing, like the Law exam, that gets people riled up. I told people I already had it written. I just needed to figure out what order the words would go in. It was all in my brain.

I was eager to find a break in the rain so I could walk home in dryness, and would wait as long as necessary to get it. Eventually I did.

After the usual sit around and procrastination, I decided to juggle TV watching with thinkpiece writing. I pored over the background info for my piece about Childcare Allowances, while watching The Office's supersized episode. Once that was over and I had only a few paragraphs done by the time the episode was over, but the night wore on and after a few hours, I had over 900 words, even having glossed over a few potential key points, relegating theme to mere sidenotes. After all, it's not an essy, it's a "think piece."

So I slept in this morning, even missing my shower to make th 8:00 history and politics class. I get there and find Roy taking the assignments, saying Leslie's out sick today. Hah, terrific, a class cancelled for the second time in as many days. A few of us just sat around, shot the breeze, and talked about serial killers. As with the day before, I was waiting out the weather, and Mansoor agreed to give me a ride home.

After that, it was video games for about 4 hours, followed by dinner, TV, and then beer. Not that I'm drunk-blogging, I don't think I could bring myself to do that. I was thirsty and went through the fridge. There were no clean glasses and for once I wasn't up for a Coke. The Stellas have just sort of been sitting there since Pat's birthday, since I oh so rarely drink at home, and all the same, the past two weeks have seen my immune system a little too taxed to deal with booze.

I've had some wonderings lately, I doubt I'll have the energy to post them anytime soon and by the time I do, I'll forget em altogether.

So I'm gonna mosey on off to bed in only a moment. Man, we're too big for this world.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x10: There's no-one watching over them

So I'm sitting here in class. Well that's not true. I'm in the classroom. The teacher's not here, and neither are any of the students, so it's not a class. And that's not really true either. There's me, and there's this Korean or Chinese guy. We're sitting all the way across the room from each other and I don't want to talk to him.

It happened about a year ago in my History and Politics class when Stephen Jarrett got sick and didn't show up, and we all eventually left, me being one of the last. I figure the same thing has happened to Catherine, my Poetry Analysis teacher. It doesn't matter now if she eventually shows up. Everyone who was here (and there were sufficient numbers for a class at one point) has long since left, like a half hour ago.

Or it could be the rain screwing with traffic, or maybe it's a combination and she gave up trying to get here. But it's a three hour class and I have nothing better to do.

The point is, it's rainy as hell and I don't ant to go home yet, so I'm sticking around. In a little while I may transition down to the newsroom, get some lunch, take a nap, who knows. For now, I realized I didn't write an entry last night, so I could do that here and now. I wonder if I'd want to stay longer if the Chinese guy weren't here. Or if I'd left already, and we're having some unspoken contest to see who is the bigger loser for staying in the friggin' classroom.

I'm resenting Bileski, my Newsroom Without Walls teacher right now. I don't hate him, especially since he's such an easy marker, but I resent that he made us start blogs to put our videos online. So yay for me, I started another fucking blog. I already have Interneta/SWP, a LiveJournal, a Mindsay, Myspace, Facebook and whatever other shit I got suckered into signing up for that I never ever ever have ever used ever... never. So you can check that out at this link. Take note of "No Project," which got me an 8 or 8.5 even though it has nothing to do with news.

But the big story is obviously that I worked last night, finally, my first shift at HMV (which I found out through my dad randomly guessing and then, yes, Wikipedia confirming, actually stands for "His Master's Voice.") It was quiet and uneventful, among the better of my first days on the job. There was a lot of walking around putting shit where it belongs/stowing it, but my main deal is cash. Thankfully, despite not having worked a register in a month and a half (and even then only ever having done it twice,) it all came back and I got through the day without any significant fuckups. I got to know better the people working there. The one who was mostly in charge of me, Lindsay, was probably a little thin on patience for my newbie ways, but seems cool enough that when I start to really get it it'll be fine. i think I had this same issue back at Classic Bowl with Natasha, how she really seemed to ate me at first but eventually I was the one she apparently didn't hate (I assume, since she complained about pretty much everyone else behind their backs -- but for all I know she dd the same to me. And they deserved it.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, HMV. So now my legs are all tired from standing around all day. I guess I lost my endurance over the year. It'll come back as I pick up more shifts though. Wait, did I say "all day" a second ago? Not really man, it was only four hours I was there. So that's a whopping $30 in my pocket before taxes. Uh... yeah. Oh well, it'll pick up.

Is there a more obnoxious medium than radio? I don't think so, since the entire point is to play loud noises to catch the ear, and hire obnoxious people to keep them listening. There are probably some good DJ's out there, but I'm not hearing any Dr. Johnny Fevers. And the ads, don't even go there man. Radio ads are the worst.

I had this whole rant in my head yesterday about Mac computers after hearing a glowing endorsement from some of those non-Johnny Fever DJ's, because it bothers me when people brag about their computers, Mac or PC. But Mac people seem to do it more and with more enthusiasm. A PC fan will say, "Dude, I've go so much RAM and my harddrive is huge" and whatever other technical stuff they rattle off about. These people on the other hand just brag about how easy to use the Mac is and how cool the widgets are. I don't know, man, my weather widget says it's gonna be 17 today, 19 tomorrow, 20 over the weekend. Somehow, I doubt it, and the Weather Network appears to agree. And yes, I've made sure my widget is set for Oakville Ontario and celsius.

Anyway, that was the gist of the rant. I don't defend my computer... especially my personal computer. It sucks, but I'd rather use it than the Mac. That's my personal preference. Joe and I have had this discussion a few times and have come to an agreement: there's no perfect computer. Macs suck in their way, PCs suck in theirs. For instance, the wireless card in this thing is shit, but my brother has never had trouble getting online with his laptop.

So here I end the rant. I've been typing the better part of a half an hour and conclude with the notion that sparked this blogging anyway. The teacher's not coming. It's still too soon to go home though, so I'm gonna relocate to the newsroom.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x9: Clap for the wolfman

So I was sound asleep this morning when I hear this dull low rustling over my head. Followed by a scraping, or a banging, and then repeated.

Goddamnit. For some reason, there are asshole roofers ontop of my house when I'm trying to sleep!

Tuesday was supposed to be my sleep-in day. I was planning on going in anyway since I had to work on a Newsroom Without Walls project with Dave and Mansoor, but I wasn't supposed to even be conscious until 9:00. I don't recall exactly what time these guys were at it, and it couldn't possibly have been that much before I was actually going to wake up, but that was it. Da nerve!

So yeah, I went in early today and took care of business. It's not something I'm proud of, but I finally got around to turning in the uniform from when I worked at Tim Hortons for a week. Except for the visor. For some reason that wasn't in there. I didn't see the manager, which helped avoid an awkward scene, but I think I might also have had to sign something, which I didn't, so potential future awkwardness will continue to haunt me.

So I took care of business today. There was a lot to do for Bileski's class, although I've still not taken care of everything. And tomorrow, branching off that work theme, I start at HMV. It's kinda weird, man... it's been an abnormally long process, and by now, I've virtually forgotten everything they told me at the meeting (and my attempts to re-read the manual they gave me yeilded only frustration,) and my enthusiasm for the job is certainly not what it was back in mid-October. Back then it was an exciting new opportunity, an adventure. Now it's just this dull, gray, thing I gotta do for a few months. But it's money in the bank... literally, since they made me do their fucking direct deposit... so at least I've got that.

I've got more stuff to do tonight. I don't wannnnaaaa, but it was already due like two weeks ago. Whatever, though.

See man, things are still a little chaotic. I'm still all over the map. I'm getting a bit back on trap, but I'm still, you know, everywhere. Left and right, up and down, all around the place. Crap, man.

I've been giving a lot of thought lately to travelling. More and more it's seemed like something I'd like to do, and should do sooner than later. I've been thinking of places I'd like to go and what I'd do once there. There's a lot of ground to cover. I'm not gonna set a timeline or anything, but I think this is something I've got to look into. I can't become too much further concerned by my unbroken streak of routine.

We'll see, man.

Let's hope we can all keep on rockin'
-Scott

x8: I Voted for Kodos

I'm going to make this quick. My fingers are tired of typing tonight.

It was a busy day. Everyone was crammed into the law classroom for Stephen Douglas' big midterm, for which he insisted on combining all of us into one superclass. Everyone was a little warped today, since nobody had studied or really mentally prepared. Douglas, it is generally agreed, hasn't given us much direction in the way of what we ought to be doing. So we were in two camps... those who were deeply concerned with getting caught up, and those who were laid back and didn't care. For the most part, I was in the latter, with Amanda and Jessica. I gave some aid to those who wanted and needed it, but generally my study method was to read the first page of every chapter we were supposed to.

And then I went in and did it. Ah... yep.

On my way home... not the real time but in the middle of the day, I was going by White Oaks and actually ran into Ms. Wilson. Unbelievable! I haven't seen her since... March 2005? Like, halfway through my 2nd semester of grade 12 when she, you know... gave birth or whatever. So we caught up and reminisced and that made my day. Wilson was one of my very favouritest teachers, one of the few I had more than once, and probably the only I had for more than one subject.

I've been very driven to get back to being Scott Williams lately. I figure that I spent a lot of October and November being a bummer, it's time to remember what made Williams so Williams. It's important to keep on that line between outgoing and creepy. Oh, and you want to be on the "outgoing" side, obviously. I think you all know what I mean.

Oh, and I voted today. Of course, not particularly taking my time to get informed, I really more did my part to obstruct democracy. But if we end up in a state of disarray, don't blame me... I voted for Kodos.*

(*ah, old Simpsons episodes. How perfect a reference.)

So that'll be it for tonight. I'm gonna go rest up. Plenty to do tomorrow.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x7: She's a small part of a long dream

So today's not been a great day. I'm cool with that, because it wasn't bad, but it was a big rush.

I'm a little worried about the fact that I'm getting to the point where heartburn is a serious concern of mine.

It was as I said, a nutty kind of day. Got up and went bowling. Did all right, not great. Was rushed from there to a rented van where mom, grandma, tim, brothers and I travelled to Palmerston for fake christmas. I was glad to finally see Kris for the first time since the summer, although that did mean being around his girlfriend's daughters, who are the hyperactive products of the Ritalin generation. No doubt. The younger one kept hissing at me and touching my hair, until I told her I had lice. The older one kept elbowing me and telling me I wasn't funny when I told her I was colorblind. Like I'm there to impress her, to perform for her amusement! I'm not gonna bring my "A"-material to a 10-year-old!

(At this point in the story it is important to note that I left it, fell asleep, then spent all of Sunday avoiding doing anything, then at around 9:00 pm went back to it.)

Like I said, it was nice to see Kris. We mostly stood around and talked wrestling and comics, like we usually do. I think that when our family members overhear the conversations the four of us have, it's like we're speaking a whole other language (if you've ever used the word "kayfabe" you might know.) The girls, who are at that impressionable young age when watching RAW every monday with Kris could possibly have an adverse effect on them, often chirp in by reminding me that "Kris likes CM Punk" and "Chavo sucks!" Of course, if they were a little older and able to understand, they might understand that... it's all fake, and that Chavo is actually very good at what he does and there's no reason not to like CM Punk. Of course this has inspired Kris into being "straight edge." I advised him that you can't be straight edge without having those ferkakte black X's on their hands. Because part of being straight edge is bragging to people (who generally don't care) that you don't do drugs or alcohol.

After thousands upon thousands of gifts were unwrapped by the kids, it was time for the older people to play fake christmas. You know, later that night, I got home and watched The Office Season 2 on DVD and remembered how hilariously close the chirstmas episode hit to home, because that's pretty much it, complete qith confusion and frustration. For instance, Kris' aforementioned straight-edgitude came into conflict with his randomly-selected christmas gift, wine glasses. So he pled for someone to switch out, but it didn't seem likely. Eric's first choice was a pair of singing snowmen, which delighted the kids but made less of an impact on him. He ended up with the gift I picked up -- a box of chocolates from Purdee's. So that was the choice... alcohol, chocolate, or a few gift certificates (ultimately, Kris ended up with the latter.) I'm not sure who got the snomen. But that's the problem -- because of the uncertainty, the gifts have to be general stuff like that, and nobody really gets overwhelmed with joy at their gift. Unless you get some really good booze.

We came home and I wandered around the house all evening. This was repeated today when I avoided doing anything that could be regarded vaguely as being homework. It's starting to pile up and I've got a postit note loaded with crap I oughtta take care of in increasingly short amounts of time. The irony of the situation is that I recently got a copy of "50 Plus one ways to improve your study habits" from Encouragement Press sitting on my desk from doing a story on it. The intention is that I'm to do a review on it but I've already moved onto the e-zine so I dunno. I'm pretty sure one of the tips in there is to avoid distractions (like, say, blogging,) but even at the risk of failing my Law and Ethics class, I can't change my stripes. I won't deviate from the system of not studying that has gotten me this far.

Law is a class I've never gotten the hang of, even going back to grade 12. Law is... weird, man. It's an intangible made represented by a complex interweaving of precedents and written codes and I just can never get my head around it, man! It's weird! I dunno. My mark nosedived (nosedove?) after my grade 12 law exam. I don't even know what's gonna happen here, and I'm pretty zen about that. It's not like I'm in danger. I'm not saying I'm resting on my laurels, but I'm certainly always improving just what my laurels are.

So I'm just bounding around lately. I never know where I'll be.

And hell, that's fine by me. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x6: Nothing like a heatwave

From a find to a check, from a check to a view... from a view to a kill in the morning.

Although boredom lingers heavy in the air, today was a pretty decent day. I took care of business pretty big time today, running errands and spending cash I don't strictly have all over the place. On the plus side, I found out when I work my first shift at HMV. Wednesday afternoon. Hm. Exciting.

The upsetting thing is that there may not be much to report. I keep flashing back at the most random times to this anecdote I wanted to tell on here, and now I can't even remember what the damn thing was. It's insane.

I got my History midterm back today. The big thing about this was that I was concerned about the essay question at the end, which was worth 1/4 of the entire test all told. After walking out of the test, I started to think back on it, and realized "Holy crap, I just handed in an insane paranoid rant about the state of healthcare. It's gonna bomb!" When it comes to healthcare, y'see, I have a tendancy to get insane and paranoid, since I don't approve of private healthcare and I don't like the idea that the Conservatives might someday have the power to snap their fingers and make it go away. I'm worried that, should they ever get a majority, they become the first political party to keep their campaign promises, even if it's for the worse of all Canadians.

Like I said, insane and paranoid. Anyway, Leslie, the teachers, really seemed to dig it and gave me a 9/10 on that bad boy. Part of me wonders how I could have gotten that extra 1, but that's the same part of me that wonders why my pitch wasn't unconventional enough, so I don't give him mucy credit.

The final summative in that class is a "Think Piece" on a current event, tying it to this century's history to take a position on the issue. It's due next week, which is scary as hell for me. The idea that's been floating around my head all year has been that the Conservatives replaced any possible daycare program with a "family allowance," which sounds like the dumbest fucking idea I ever heard. That challenge is finding historical precedence to explain why that is the dumbest fucking idea I ever heard.

Okay, that's an exaggeration -- I just like saying "dumbest fucking thing I ever heard."

It's easy to see, between that piece, the three pieces I need to give Bileski (two of which are just waiting for mke to work on them,) various e-zine work, my law midterm, poetry anthology and anything else I may have left out -- not to mention starting work, how I could feel just a little tiny bit overwhelmed lately. But I have a feeling my overload process is about to kick in and I'll be enterting a long period of TCB. Taking care of business.

Keep on rockin'
The Scotto

x5: She craves attention

My name is Scott Williams.

No, wait, let me repeat that properly. My name is Scott fucking Williams.

I been one pretty messed up cat lately. I nearly broke down in the midst of Newsrooms Without Walls yesterday, citing the overwhleming nature of my classes. Things were starting to get heavy, and even worse when Mary Lynn started broaching the topic of internships. And then when talk started of the administration* attempting to take away our newsroom and replace it with... nothing... well that's when the blood starts to boil under the skin.

*Imagine them as a sinister hand stroking an evil cat** like Dr. Claw in Inspector Gadget.

**This is redundant, all cats can be assumed to be evil. Where was I? Oh yeah, breakdown.

But I didn't have a breakdown. Although I been pretty melodramatic over the past few days and weeks, I've gotten re-aligned. Re-focussed. I've got perspective. After that class, I ran into Bileski and he asked how things were going. I told him fine, although I was expecting to have a "nineteen-year heart attack any day now." The ensuing conversation can be paraphrased as follows:

"You're nineteen? Man, you've got all the time in the world. When I was your age I was out in Calgary and I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't really get started until I was 24, 25... there's no pressure man, are your parents pressuring you?" (they're not) "Then just relax! There's no need to push yourself too hard." Et cetera and so forth in that vein.

Now this, I found extremely re-assuring, because I'm not used to having people endorse my slacking. But he's right. There's time. There's plenty of time, and I don't need to run myself ragged thinking there isn't. That's just silly bullshit I'm worried about.

And a good friend known only as Fists appeared and gave me some good advice. "Cheer the fuck up, yo." Now, nobody who knows me is ever gonna mistake me for a cheery guy, but every now and again I can remember myself and how shit is actually pretty good. It is.

I describe SWP as the "anti-blog." It provides no informational service, no entertainment, no viable content whatsoever. Yet it's seemingly more than your typical "personal blog." I treat it with a little more dignity than that.

This weekend is Fake Christmas, that bizarre tradition chronicled every November on this blog. I still can't really explain it, but I'll try. Every November, my family gets together, and gives gifts... except the gifts are chosen at random and can be swapped around. Seem pointless? It is, because we also celebrate regular christmas. Basically, since the family started its baby boom earlier this decade, certain parties have found travel unmanageable during the holidays. So in November, before any major snowfalls, we make a last stab at a family gathering. And because as a family we love to torture ourselves with unneccesary rules and regulations, we all*** agreed to this crazy new christmas tradition game thing.

***Of course not all of us. Just those with kids.

The first year, it was held at my cousins' place in Palmerston, because they were the ones who instigated it. The following year, I missed because I was shooting Maim in Vain during a crucial day at Josh Kershaw's dad's office (and I still thank him so much for that.) The next year, it was held in the common room of my grandma's building, where we hold many of our family functions. This year, it's back to Palmerston, which makes sense. For one, Elizabeth gave birth six months ago (and much to her chagrin, I still haven't met the little tyke,) and for another, her sorta-not-husband Mike has been laid up for weeks following a car wreck. And then it was supposed to be last week, but Mike's grandmother died (or some such, I'm afraid I wasn't privy to the details,) and so it was rescheduled for this saturday. The strange, sordid tale of fake christmas (for which there is no other official name, by the way,) condensed to even greater pointlessness. Deeelicious.

I'm still sick, but I swear I'm getting better. I'm noticing less of a phlegmy aftertaste when I eat things. I'm only coughing severely in the mornings, and it gets lesser as the day goes on.

But I fear tomorrow, I shall still be afflicted. Dayum.

Them's the breaks, duder. But it's not so bad. I'm thinking of giving myself a nametag that reads "I CAN ONLY COMMUNICATE BY COUGHING." That'll show 'em.

Who? Exactly.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x4: Behind the shade

I think the word I'm looking for is lethargyyyyyyy. With seven "y's."

You can tell this because I had two weeks to do an assignment for Bileski's "Newsrooms Without Walls" class and I just plain didn't. So I pieced it together earlier tonight, making a story about how Scott Williams can't finish his homework. Sort of a cinema nouveau thing.

And when I say "pieced it together," I'm either exaggerating or outright lying, because it's not done. Apparently iMovie doesn't want to import from the Sony Betacam, so I have to wait until I can get my hands on a different camera tomorrow. iMovie = jerk. Everytihng about Macs = jerk. Power supply that smells like burning = jerk.

I've been coughing all day, week, month, life. I finally got around to buying ColfFX and I have faith that it will be as effective on this as it is on sneezing-colds. I spent all weekend chugging Buckley's (*slight exaggeration) to no effect. I'm getting pissed off. I'm not sure how much more I can hack up before my throat ejects.

Today was a dreary day for SunOnline layout. For a lot of it, Joe and I were just sitting in silence. Denny was sick (big surprise!) and didn't come. Ed high-tailed off to work. A bunch of hoodies came in and were like "Yo is there a class in here?" Technicaly there's not so I let them in, but felt awkward about letting them just chill. And Tammy came in and I spoke more to her than I probably have since the first day when we did debates in Law. And in this case, it was actually about something, not class stuff, so there.

Exhausted with school. And life. Stopped in at WOSS to get out of the rain. Every year you're out of there, it gets weirder to go back. It was a sort of hostile environment, and not on purpose. But it is.

The world's been a cold place lately, and not just because it's November. It's this whole directionless, unmotivated, lonely little funk I've settled into.

I'm low, man. There's no denying that. I don't have enough school to occupy my time. Not enough of a life to fill the leftover. It's enough to drive a man to drink.

But I'd better not drink because I feel like shit because I'm suffering the world's longest head/chest cold.

Something's gotta be done.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

x3: Sweat of the eyes

So I went and disappeared again. Sort of into my own head. I've been working on stuff and whatever.

Life's been kinda chaotic. On Saturday I went to my meeting for HMV to learn the ropes over there. It's pretty straightforward, there's just a lot of stuff to keep track of in terms of working the register and stuff. I'll probably pick it up on the job. Of course that'll be a while since I'm not even booked to work this week. Wooo.

So I had that. There are maybe 12 seasonal employees, which makes sense - you want as many people sharing the burden as you can muster, and it's going to get busy in December. They say there's a chance they'll take any of the ones they like for a regular position, but there are so many people that I'm not putting much stock in that. So after this is over with I'll probably just not work for a while and focus on whatever position I stick myself into at school. Oughe.

Like I said, I'm in my head, stuck in a world I created. I actually overcame a little bit of writer's block recently and while I'm not producing anything I could be beaming with pride about, at least I'm productive.

I just don't want my newswriting to influence my creative writing too much. That'd suck.

Or would it be a good angle, maybe? Who knows?

I can't believe it, but I'm still a little sick. I'm dry-coughing and hacking up shit alternately throughout the day. And I had to hack and wheeze my way quickly through a Law presentation.

Jerry Seinfeld's on the Daily Show right now. He's got a cold like me. What a world.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

x2: Disintegration Blues

So I checked out this page for the Canadian Blog Awards. I've always wondered about the idea of getting recognition for the material I generate here. Since it's deliberately a nothing page -- if you can call thousands upon thousands of words nothing -- it doesn't seem like anyone would be interested in saying "He's so good we should give him an award." But it doesn't cost anything but twenty seconds of effort to get nominated, so I went and did it. Then I read where it says you should check if you've already been nominated. I didn't figure on it, but it's not out of the question. So I check and low and behold among the names, "Scott Williams." So I click the link to "my" blog and what do I find? Some other dude stealing my name for use on his blog!

I've had to live my life, I've known for years, with a name that is almost criminally overused. But should I suffer and be kept out just because of that? No! No, no, no, no, a thousand times no! My only handicap is that the blog we all know and love isn't about anything. That's its gimmick. It isn't political, informational or particularly enlightening in any respect. And people dig it -- admit it you do! An admitted anti-blog that celebrates the uselessness of this medium. And I say all this stuff because if I have to share my damn name, then damnit I'm gonna be known as the "Outspoken" Scott Williams. Or at least the "Insane Crotchety Old Man" Scott Williams.

It's been an interesting few days. At least, if you were the one living them. Yesterday, a long, dry day, was punctuated toward the end with my first ever phone interview. I stammered nervously over the questions I'd written for the author of "50 Plus One Ways to Improve Your Study Habits." Despite his being sick (it must be going around down there too,) he gave some pretty good lengthy and enthusiastic answers. They're going to send a review copy of the book, too, which will be getting in the mail. No idea if I'll have time to review it myself.

I left late afterward, having stayed to capitalize on a creative spark I got midway through the afternoon. At the meeting, the heavy topic of discussion was obviously Bat-Editor/Picaman. There was a lot of buzz between the students about how to react. I tried to impress upon everyone to importance of not playing to his desire for attention. Roy apparently came up with the idea of offering him a few pages to edit, for a small fee (meaning he would have to pay us.) Well in any case I figure it's just about time for me to move on from Sun/Online anyway so I'll be removed from this issue soon.

Bowling this morning was mostly uneventful except that I ran into Lisa, my old teammate, who was visiting her brother (against whom I was bowling.) now, Lisa and I were always on really good terms, but for whatever reason I wasn't that talkative when I was on her team. It was probably because being the only guy on a team of 4 was a bit overwhelming for me. So we had probably the longest conversation we ever had, and it only lasted a couple minutes. She's at Waterloo for accounting. I was a little worried she would just give me a 'hey' and turn around when I greeted her, but her eyes actually lit up a little. I can tell when someone is actually excited to see me -- or at least faking it really well. So it was nice to catch up.

Later on, I was sitting at a crosswalk in my dad's car when a guy in a motorized wheelchair started crossing. Dad gives him an "ok go!" wave, and he says something muffled. So dad rolls down the window and the guy comes over. "Two points if you hit me," he jokes. They start talking -- dad's the type who can always just have a conversation with a stranger. Me, only when I'm feeling up for it. The dude was an NFL player back in the 50's. And while I'm not a football guy, it's still interesting to briefly encounter someone who played pro (back when they got paid next to nothing for putting their bodies at severe risk every night.) Nice guy, though it's no surprise that he's in a wheelchair by now.

We also finally took all that change -- pennies and nickles, maybe an errand dime -- to the RCSS to get in changed to bills. $11 we had there! Amazing! It will not go to waste...

...nah, it probably will.

Keep on rockin
The Real Scotto Williams

x1: Lost and tired on a dusty road

What keeps biting me?! Honestly! I keep getting these - I assume mosquito - bites, and it's just, obviously , irritating.

It's been an odd couple of days. On perhaps in ways never yet discussed on this blog. Prepare for a long one. Go get a snack.

Ready? Okay. We begin near the end, in the newsroom, where I arrive and happen upon Andrew and Perrin snickering over some mound of papers. I inquire and find that our preview sheets - printed out and taped to the outside window for people to observe and correct - have been marked up by some strange presence in the night. He began the tirade of red ink with a hostile letter indicating that he was appalled at the lack of quality in our layout, wondering if we "even have a layout?" (yes, he underlined.) He then went on to confess that he spent three hours going over the paper scrawling these notes all over them. Of course, given that the paper was printed by the time we got this, perhaps his "suggestions" were doomed to go unheeded, but needless to say, reactions ranged from amused, to offended, to somewhat scared, to plainly indifferent.

Andrew had actually been in the newsroom at 10:00 last night and saw nothing of the fellow. Which he arrived sometime after ten, and no less than three hours later returned the pages (perhaps early this morning.)

I understand people wanting to take an interest in the quality of the paper. That's a pretty decent thought. But I don't really appreciate mysterious criticisms from a person identifying himself as the "phantom proofreader." It began to get ridiculous how frequently scrawled all over the sheets was the word PICA. I've actually played this guy's game before -- show them you "know what you're talking about" by using jargon like pica, stet, and "butting headlines."

Is the paper perfect? Hell no. Lord knows I have had my fair share of bones to pick with it, but it's usually really obvious stuff like getting the date wrong (this actually happened on two pages of an issue a few weeks back,) and typos and crap.

Roy dismissed the guy quite handily. And since Roy is the one with thirty years experience, I'd have to defer to him on this matter. It's just a little unnerving that some guy swooped down in the middle of the night, slapped red ink all over the paper, and didn't leave his name. It's like it was Batman or something. I just don't think Batman would ever be this big of an asshole.

It's the type of thing I could carp on for hours, and will probably not be able to get out of my head for weeks.

For the record, not many of the complaints were legitimate. every now and again he'd catch a typo, but failing to see the distinction between the Editorial section (where the staff column goes) and the Alternative Voices section (where he found a letter to the Editor and claimed it should go in Editorials,) is kind of something you laugh about when it comes from someone who seems to fancy himself a messianic proofreader. As Bugs Bunny might've said, whatta maroon.

For the record, I'm not even on newspaper layout right now, having long since moved on to webpage layout - I'm just amused and slightly annoyed.

I had a dentist's appointment yesterday. I was fretting it because, hey, I hate the dentist and I doubt they're too fond of my dietary habits. They have a tendancy to be smug and also a little liberal when it comes to jabbing you in the mouth with metal implements. So in preparation, I brushed and flossed and used mouthwash and did everything I could. But I knew that would just provide a good presentation. The real story is told by cavities. And after all the scraping and rinsing and fluoriding, my cavity count came in at... zero. That's right, the guy who drinks as much as three cans of pop on a given day (and iced tea, which is apparently also bad,) is devoid of cavities, and can remain so if he keeps up with the occasional flossing. Flossing I can get behind. It's slight pain now to avoid major pain later.

Ever since getting my front teeth done in grade 9, I've been a fanatical brusher. I had enamel put in to correct the unsightliness caused by something called hypoplasia, which made my front teeth look blotchy (through no fault of my own!) Also, I didn't brush often. Once they were put in, I realized I'd been given a second chance and resolved to take as good of care of these "new teeth" as possible.

I went to bed on Monday night with a pounding headache, as though victim of a rapid assault by sledgehammer. I woke up even worse and, as mentioned on this blog, popped ibuprofen throughout the day.

Yesterday it was still pretty bad, but I learned a vital lesson: never discuss headaches with a woman. I don't know what it is about women but they seem to experience headaches with greater frequency and worse pain. I learned this by inadvertantly setting a table full of girls - Amanda, Melissa W. and Khadija I believe - on what seemed like a 20 minute tangent about headaches. And with a headache myself, maybe I wasn't in a mood for it, haha.

I'm still a little under the weather but on the mend. Like, I'm still feeling flashes of headachiness for moments at a time - and even seemingly transferred my illness to Eric - but I think by Saturday I'll be at least to 90%.

And here endeth the long, unfocussed rant. More some other day. Need rest now.

Keep on rockin'
-El Scotto