XX: Storming the castle

Max and Xena are having a fight. Max is staying away from her, she's being territorial. In my time looking after her, I've noticed that outside of her element, she's really just a sour old bitch. The upsetting thing is that I'm getting too good at interpreting her demands. On the flip side, I can make her beg for a treat I don't have. That's some Pavlovian jazz.

This is looking to be the final post of the year, which is... mind-boggling, quite frankly, that I've kept it going and have yet to even consider stopping. I could look back on the year, but it's just been filled with so much... stuff. Different jobs (four, to be exact,) new friends, school, a strike, a four-month nothingness of summer, plenty of drinking, the end of the movie, a death in the family, stress, fear, anxiety, hunger, a few pieces of live theatre, a half-dozen newspapers, a stolen kiss or two, and occasionally seeing a movie or enjoying a new TV show. 2006 continued the patterns established in 2005, which is... comfortable, sure, but by the end of the year I feel the need to break the cycle at some point and just travel someplace. Where and under what circumstances remains to be found but that's the goal. It's well-documented.

I was bored last night and randomly started talking to Chris Brown. Saddam Hussein's execution had been announced and we got into a political discussion of the merits/lack thereof of this execution ,coming to the mutual conclusion that it was a huge step backward in building the "New Iraq." We also talked about Ronald Reagan, whom Chris lauded for his ability to end the Cold War, but I think was kind of a jerk for implementing Trickle-Down Economics. Of course, this is all from a modern perspective, knowing that Trickle-Down doesn't work. At the time, there was no question that Reagan was a good president, and even now it looks like his legacy will stand.

As many people know, I love comics and wrestling. They're a few rare media that I don't get to discuss openly in public very often. At school, I have Joe for wrestling, but he doesn't keep up these days since he doesn't get it on his TV. As for comics, I turned Mansoor onto Scott Pilgrim a few weeks ago when I left a copy lying around and he randomly picked it up and got hooked. That was kinda th plan, to get somebody into it, because that book had to be shared.

While I was playing Risk a few nights ago, Pat suddenly declared his love for a book he found called "Y: The Last Man." I had to stand and give him a high five. "Y" is an ongoing comic (which is soon to reach its conclusion) and probably among the best I've seen done with any medium. I was so glad he found and enjoyed it. Maybe I hould get him into Runaways...

I finally have my plans for New Year's, I'm just hoping I can get it all sorted out... I wish I had more time, but it was left to the last minute of tonight and now I have to work sunday afternoon 12:30-5. Well, whatever happens tonight happens. Maybe it'll be like 200 Cigarettes. (I don't know what that means exactly.)

Dad leant me his entire CD collection to add to my iPod. There's a lotta stuff in there that I'm not into, but quite often, gems.

So that's in for the year. See you when the clock rolls over...

Keep on rockin'
-Scott Williams 2006

XIX: Hooray for Carbus

So things are a little... well, subdued but still crazy. Mom took off this morning for wherever it is she and Tim plan to spend New Years. She left Max with us, and Xena's staying over for however long as well.

That's fairly annoying, because, well... Xena's annoying. Tht's about all there is to it. I've got my time off now, and now I've gotta deal wit that little monsterbitch. At least she's quieted down for now, so maybe I'd better relax while I can.

For my part, I've still got no clue what I'm doing for New Year's. Alyssa mentioned a concert that sounds like it'll be good, but I'm not sure how I like the idea of it. I really just want to go back in time to last year's New Year's eve for this year. But knowing the laws of temporal paradoxes and whatnot (as we all should!) that's probably not a good idea.

I needd to relax, but also make good use of my free time. The cold outside of oppressive, but I want to go anyway. After all, Xena just started barking...

Ecch, not much to say. Getting over my cold with a little help from ColdFX. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

XVIII: Some lights may never go out.

Be they the flames of passion or the inside of a school long since vacated for the night.

It's about 3:00. How I can even think about blogging is beyond understanding, but the moment has struck and fr a very good reason. Today was, as far as blog posts go, good material. However, I shall hae to attempt to be brief, as my typing is relatively loud and my brother is attempting to sleep on the couch behind me.

As you will no doubt recall, (or scan like three posts down to read,) I was at work today mostly because I asked Mike why I was only booked on one shift. His response was to enthusiastically slap as many shifts on there as he could. In retrospect I really just saved time because like 4 people were sick today (although I suspect at least one was not exactly "sick" in the conventional sense... but I haven't a clue what that means beyond that) and so the closest people we had to managers had to call in whomever would pick up the phone. Had I not been working, I probably would've just mentally said "fuck it I'm playing video games." Not out loud, but in my head. Out loud, I would have hemmed and hawed and said "Sorry, I can't today," because I would be thinking "Well you didn't book me, so why should I?" That's a shitty way of thinking, but I'm a pretty petty guy in these matters. Anyway, some people came in, and I roamed the floors for about 8 hours helping a handful of people but mostly just telling people The Devil Wears Prada was sold out. Yeah, I'm just an ineffective cog in a careless machine, used for expediency.

I think kids should learn scatological humour at a young age and become familiar and comfortable with it. Because it's out there.

I helped a mother and her 7-year-old kid pick out a rap CD for her class. I wanted to ask why, but it wasn't really my place. I had a tough time finding one that had no "Explicit Lyrics" sticker, but eventually I noticed Will Smith's header card and said a quiet "thank you" to 'Big Willie' for saving me. Will Smith is definitely safe for 7-year-olds. At least, that's how I remember the Fresh Prince.

The sad thing about the entire work affair, as I'm being reminded by my nose-blowing, is that I'm kinda sick myself. I'm not in the habit of taking sick days, but I might've considered it, had 4 people not already done so. I mean, at school it's fine, because that's my own germs on my own keyboard or whatever, but here I'm handling peoples' shit. It probably wasn't all that sanitary, but I did keep the hand-sanitizer (which I usually don't use because I am aware its effects can be as negative as positive,) on hand and used regularly.

I took my iPod out for its first tour today. A bad idea, maybe, was listening to Mitch Hedberg on it on the bus. I must've looked like either a goon, or a sociopath, chuckling to myself with my head down and hood on, And I hate iPod headphones.

After that was Risk, which for once was held within the lavish confines of Patrick Visintini's basement. Guest player was Connor Sutherland. It was in honesty, the most competitive game we've played in a long while, even though we've not played seriously for a long while anyway. Far back as they may be, this game was better than most of our other previous ones.

I'd better get to bed. This is a scorpion's legacy.

(That doesn't mean anything, but it sounds so cool that I ought to find out a meaning and make it something.)

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

XVII: You can't inhabit nothingness

I changed into some black socks today. They were a stocking-stuffer from mom. I don't typically wear black socks, but I'm told they never get dirty, only that the longer you wear them the darker they get.

It's been a pretty decent day. I was at work for most of it, and had a few pleasant experiences, but what made it good was the paucity of bad ones. The one major one I had was only barely not a day-ruiner. I got a little miffed at a guy when he asked about the discrepancy between our prices and Best Buy's. Now I tried to wave it off, muttering "I can't really speak on Best Buy's pricing, or our pricing," because, for God's sake, I'm a temp who barely knows how to work his own cash register (I kid, but seriously.) But I'm not exactly privy to the rationale behind the pricing scheme, and I don't like it when people ask about it. But my irritation must have shone through, because the guy sneered at me, "I was only asking a question, and I don't think I needed the attitude." Look, I was getting defensive. I apologized, but confronting me about something I know nothing about and can't really help isn't going to save you $10 on some obscure CD.

Of course, I could have explained to him that Best Buy cuts prices on most major items as a storewide policy whereas HMV uses a Loss Leader plan where we set prices extremely low on certain items (as in our "2 for 30" promotion, and other various sales) as a way of attracting people into the store, and then we make up the difference with regularly-priced items. We don't sell anything above the suggested retail price, we just don't cut the prices store-wide like Best Buy. Not to mention, Best Buy doesn't specialize in CD's and DVD's, their specialty items are in hardware and software, where the big bucks are. In the end, both stores make the same amount of anyway, but that maybe would have spoiled the magic for the guy. He was just pissed that our price on the Cd was higher than theirs.

Besides, I was in the moment, on the spot, and quite annoyed. I didn't have the time or wherewithal to give him a business lesson. Like I said, my understanding of it is pretty vague.

But other than that little wrinkle, the day was fine. I worked from the morning to early evening. It was nice to come home and have time to relax, unwind and eat. Then, collect my thoughts and kvetch on here about them.

I'm eating a Cinnamon Kit Kat chunky. It's an interesting flavour.

In any case, I think I'm gonna call it a day on this one.

So keep on rockin'
-Scott

XVI: Perfection's too easy

I'd rather have things messy. Besides, life ain't about perfection. It ain't about always being right crisp and clean. It's about choices, and chances, and mistakes, and a half-dozen billion people doing whatever they feel like and affecting other peoples' lives in ways they can't imagine. Dig it?

Christmas is always chaotic.

"Merry Boxing Day Eve," my brother says. He's come up with a number of amusing ways to say merry christmas, including my personal favourite, a plea to "Keep the 'X' in X-Mas."

It was a nice day. No snow, which is a shame, because I always say snow's only place is during the time between early December and mid-January, so you get that great Christmas/New Year's snow.

It was a nice enough Christmas. I was maybe a bit withdrawn, which is a shame because there were kids to entertain. But whenever the kids come over, there's some drama with the dog, and only recently has Cameron been tolerant of the poor guy. But even so, with all the activity they get up to, the dog gets a bit rattled and is prone to nipping and barking. He's pretty unpredictable, let's not kid ourselves. But I have never believed he would actually harm the kids. Scare them, sure, but harm? I strongly doubt. But inevitably, certain people... my mom, mostly, and Eric... get jittery and seek to lock Max in the basement. I find that odd, as Eric knows Max better than anyone, so it's just odd that Eric would overestimate the risk he poses.

As much as I love my family, during gatherings I occasionally break and go to the basement. It's not to get away from my family or anything, just more along the lines of "Okay, I've spent enough time in one place, what's over here?" I'm easily restless, perhaps. So when I'm down there, I see Max whimpering, breathing heavily, gripping balls of socks in his teeth, with that look of despair in his eyes. So if things look calm enough, I let him out. And Eric, he criticizes me for "disliking the safety of children." Now, this is just Eric being a douche, but he's attempting to make a point: that Max is dangerous, which is an erroneous assumption. I'd rather have Max upstairs looking like he may bite children, than downstairs, not biting children but nervous and scared.

It was not a Christmas for the memory books, not fully being in the spirit myself I just went along with the gifts, the cards, the general merriment, it was fine but not all that exciting. I hate to sound unenthusiastic -- hell, I had a lengthy conversation with Aunt Lori on the subject -- but that's sorta the truth. But I was glad to see our gifts went over well . Aunt Karen in particular seemed excited about the Chilean Merlot I'd picked out for her, which is good news. To find it, I wandered the LCBO until I spotted a bottle that really seemed to have character.

As for what I got? Well, certainly things I asked for, and I'm glad for it. After all, I'm no longer the last person in the world without an iPod. And I won't have to buy beer for quite a long while.

Turning my attention to the future.... hrrm. Ecch. Let's not. Let's deal with it when it gets here. The present's enough trouble.

When I write, I think it may come from a different place from many writers. I don't overcontemplate my words, not in newswriting, blogging, poetry of prose. All Guthrie's talk of the neverending search for perfect words, of Coloridge and Byron, was undone the minute he had me studying Kerouac and Ginsberg. First word, best word.

And maybe that's not always the best way to go about it, if I'm writing to acheive a certain end, illustrate a specific point in my writing, but life ain't about perfection. It's all a mess.

Now that I've given you something to think about, keep on rockin'
-Scott

XV: An Echo Cross the Void

I have finally done my now-traditional Interneta update for the holidays (click post title.) Now all that's left is to go to sleep with visions of sugar plumbs and whatnot.

It would be a welcome change. Last night I had such a weird dream... there was this odd girl who was familiar but different... someone I know, but not how I know her. You know?

It's rare that I'll say "I'm not comfortable going into it" on the blog. After all, if I truly wasn't, why would I have brought it up? I needed to get it off my chest, yet doing so exposes a bit much. Dreams can be so frustrating in how beyond our control they are. All I'm going to say is that I need to find someone new to star in my dreams, and leave it at that.

Today was... a blur of money-taking, receipt printing, and barcode scanning. I fucked up, more than once, but it seemed to be more or less fine, despite (or perhaps because of?) the chaos of the element. There was a lot of shit confusing the usual routine, although when once comes after the other in the course of an hour, it got me down. So I picked myself up and stopped screwing up. It happens, but you move on.

I have issues. Let's not deny that. Insecurity. Self-consciousness. Awkwardness. Usual stuff but in a strangely exaggerated manner, I think. I deal with it. It's there, but I deal with it.

I hadn't felt much in the Christmas spirit. I occasionally managed a "Merry Christmas" after completing a transaction, but it was half-hearted. After getting wished a Merry Christmas, I often replied "Happy New Year," since I like New Year's better anyway. On one very weird and awkward occasion, I wished someone a "Happy day."

A lot of the stuff feels perfunctory. The tree hasn't inspired me. Nor have the presents. I haven't seen many specials on TV and those tht do haven't jingled my bells (if you'll pardon the expression.) The Brian Setzer dvd that would occasionally play at work. I just shut it all out. Then something happened.

After work, I was at dinner with dad. He's going to North Bay on Wednesday so he wanted a dinner with us early, and we like not having to prepare our own. We were shut out of Swiss Chalet, because they closed early for the holidays. We wound up at Super Buffet. There we were, 5 of us around a table, in this somewhat dim restaurant, quiet, all eating Kung Pao Pork or shrimp salad or whatever, playing in the background very feintly is the Chipmunks Christmas song. It was such a grand Christmas eve moment. I don't know why. It wasn't all that memorable, but it was just that moment when I realized that yes, Christimas can still hold magic. After all, the unspoken truthn of this story is that I was out with my family, enjoying a meal in a public restaurant, quite serenely.

I'm gonna read "Night Before Christmas" before I go to bed. I'm in that kinda sentimental mood.

It's tomorrow. Scratch that... in just over a half hour from this post's ending.

Make it a merry one, or in the words of Baldrick: "Messy Kwyznuz."

And I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight... Merry Christmas to all, and Keep on rockin'
Scotto

XIV: Can't boil forever

So there's not a whole lot going on these days. I went to work last night. Something odd happened.

And I don't mean something odd like being asked "Do you work here?" for the whatever-teenth time. Read the shirt, yes, I work here. How can I help you?

No, the weird thing that happened was that I looked at the schedule and was only booked for one shift the entire week. Now, I know I sometimes feel like I bitch a lot about the workload. It can be tiring. That's the truth. But that's work for you, any job I've ever had, including my all-too-brief stint selling Halloween costumes. I thought it was suspicious that during a week that includes Christmas eve, boxing day, and a shitload of teenagers likely collecting on gift cards, it seems odd that anyone would have less than 10 hours.

I've had weeks with only one shift, but those were during school. And me being me, ever the overthinker, I began to wonder how accidental this was. I don't know the process for shiftmaking. I don't know if there's a computer program that plugs in availabilities and needs and just takes it from there, or if people just sit down and hash it out based on their preferences and whatnot? I don't know. But I have considered the possibility that one of the managers specifically doesn't like me. I don't think much of it, believe me, but there are times when I wonder. And finding that I'm only scheduled to work 8 hours in one week is good enough evidence in my paranoid little mind.

So I asked Mike, and he happily starts scribbling down hours "Okay, yeah, this isn't right, we'll give you one on tuesday, and wednesday, do you prefer mornings or evenings? How about Friday? Saturday?" He sets about setting things right, sure, although that doesn't answer the question of how or why I might've been slighted in this way. In the long run, I suppose it doesn't matter. My point is that I'm working there only a week or two more, and I intend to grab as much money as my body can handle before then. It's straightened out now, but there'll always be that lurking shadow of my mind that says I have something to worry about.

Today was, to say the least, an active day. Eric and I went out to do some impromptu Christmas shopping. We were both sort of unnerved about the fact that our parents' chrstmas gifts weren't even in price. However, Eric was a lot more gung ho about getting things financially square than I was. I was worried that it would just plain look like we got one parent more, a side he rudely dismissed at first, then came around to when we started doing wrapping.

It was a boring night in, I suppose owing the the excess of family gatherings hosted amongs the various groups. I stayed in, got a little business taken care of.

This post was going to have one point or something, but I have really forgotten what it might've been. I suppose I could've mentioned that the weather is shite and it is not very christmassy for it to be cold freezing rainy. But you deal with these things, I suppose.

Real life is invading my dreams.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

XIII: Never say always

An anxious night. The dog is wandering around without much to do, and it's getting to me. On Street Fighter II, I got all the way up to Sagat without losing a round, then I got tired and some good TV came on. The Office. It was a re-run of last week's, apparently, but I missed it due to work, so I gladly watched.

I was asked to come into work this afternoon. It was up to me, and I opted not to. Sure, I could use the money, and they needed "anyone" who could come in, but when you get down to it, I'm a lazy ass who needed a day off. I worked three days in a row last week and it nearly killed me. I'm working tomorrow, covering a shift for somebody who technically shouldn't have been able to give his shift to me anyway, because he's a regular.

They didn't seem to mind that I declined. It later turned out that I had to go grocery shopping tonight anyway, so that was fortuitous. But at the time, it was just me indulging in laziness.

I've got my Christmas shopping pretty much all set, which I'm glad about. It's the solstice tonight, which means that days will start to get longer, but it's never noticeable at first. And there has yet to be any snow, which is vexing seeing as how I have enough trouble getting into the christmas spirit. But whatever.

I got my marks from school recently. Not too shabby. In fact, the best semester I've had yet, markwise, which is saying something given that I haven't been below 3.7 the whole time I've been in college. Last week, I had a discussion with Vanessa about whether she was "learning anything" toward her minor in French, given that she's a pretty well natural Francophone. She was disgruntled about it, and though I didn't quite understand it at the time, I can relate it pretty well to why I didn't apply to Creative Writing courses. And I'm starting to worry that I'm somehow getting too light a treatment if my marks are that good. I'll be honset, I'm an average student at best, and I seem to do better than people who are much more studious than I am.

How can I, in good conscience, just float through life like this? Where does it make sense? Doesn't it conflict with my personality?

Well screw it. Another dilemma half-assedly philosophized upon for tonight.

Keep on rockin all of you out there around the world,
-Scotto

XII: A circular universe

I've not got much to say tonight. I've been doing christmas shopping. I'm dead on my feet after work tonight.

I've just come to the conclusion that in the course of a week, the entire population of Oakville walks through HMV Oakville Place. For instance, tonight I ran into numerous old classmates (some of whose names I couldn't remember, and likewise as I was referred to as "Dancing guy." I can't help but wonder where that's from,) Mikaela, Rich the owner of Comic Connection, Natasha my co-worker from Classic Bowl, and James Bateman, whose mom is my dad's girlfriend. He was asking me, in fact, for ideas on what to get my dad. This helped me relieve some stress, because I knew something he really seemed to want but couldn't get him as my own gift.

As for me, I'm excited about tomorrow. I don't have anything to do, which is great.

See? What'd I tell you? Not much to say tonight.

Thinking about ideas for holiday updates for Interneta. Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

XI: An Obsessive-Compulsive Christmas

The title of this post comes from someone I ran into at HMV today. I saw some friends there -- Lauren, some other grade 12's, Ryan Wheeler and two Mikes, for isntance. But this gentleman wasn't a friend, not in the conventional sense.

As I was rushing to take my break, I got a "Hey" and turned around to inspect. I was prepared to bury some irritation, as I am often beseeched by customers when I am on my way out. But it was just a friendly hello, "I didn't know you work here." I squint and shake my head. Who was this bespectacled, bearded man? Someone my dad knows? I don't know, but the voice is eerily familiar... "Brandon never told me."

Oh, snap! It was my brother's friend Steve. Steve's a weird guy. Brando met him while working at Stride (and if you want the story on what Stride is, I'll provide it someday,) and started hanging around with him. He came over a few times to watch movies, but Eric was not the greatest sport at the time. I considered Steve a bit of a nuisance myself but tried to keep on good terms. Eric, however, in the midst of his less-than-social period, was in very little place to tolerate the guy, so they were less than close. When Kris moved in with us, it was determined that would be too many unstable elements (as Kris had already hated Steve for no good reason having never met him, and was quite vocal about it.)

So I said a quick hello to him, noting that he'd grown the beard since last we met.

I've not got a whole lot to say other than that tonight. Work was work, same as it ever was. Not a bad night though, although I was inexplicably short at the till (and I'm very rarely short.)

I got an idea tonight. I had been mourning my own lack of inspiration... not that I've finished writing everything, but that I hadn't come up with anything new to write in over a year. Anyway, I came up with an idea for a comedy based around bad things that can happen amidst the nicer, quieter moments of life. "The Lighter Side of Being Down." Something to make people laugh. It'd be written in the same voice, more or less, as this blog; casual and self-deprecating. I don't know when I'll get around to it... there always seems to be a lot on my plate... but I found it reassuring that I finally got a little inspiration back. It'd been a while, I was starting to fear I had peaked before 20.

(Looks at life...) now that's a scary thought.

I was pricing different vacation packages the other day; idly really. The universe is telling me that before too long it'll be time for me to get the hell out of this country for a while, so I'm thinking about where I can go.

I'd like it to be someplace where English is the main language, but there aren't too many places where you can't seriously find help if you speak English. Australia is a likely candidate, but I'm also considering the homeland, England. And just for a wild card sake, Japan. But no plans yet. Just if I ever felt like suddenly blowing some OSAP money for no good reason (That's not entirely true, there's a damn good reason.)

Anyway, that's the story for the night. It's not overly interesting, but you know how it is.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

X: Treasure Hunters and Ghost Circles

This won't be a long entry, because absolutely nothing happened today.

I woke up this morning and took a glance at the clock... it was 2:30. I laughed aloud to myself with joy that I slept for 11 hours completely uninterrupted. This hasn't happened since anytime I can honestly remember, although my memory of my own life isn't that great... hence, perhaps, why I've been so dilligent with this blog since its inception.

But the point is, with school recently and back to my summertime fascination with being up at 9 (supposedly but futilely to make myself more productive,) my sleep hadn't been what I'd normally want. I'll admit, I'm not going to make it a habit sleep 11 hours every night, but the alarm is definitely staying off for the next three weeks (except, perhaps ironically, on saturdays for bowling.)

I said I was intending on catching up on writing today, which I did not. I mostly bummed around, ran an errand or two, played video games, ate, and just zombified. I got really into some blog fiction, which is perhaps the best use of blogging I've yet seen, I'm not going to lie. And it might be my next project, given that I've conquered* comics, short stories, novels, poetry, screenplays, stage plays, greeting cards, reviews, news writing and whatever else.

*A relative term, I mean basically I've worked in it and produced at least something I'm comfortable with.

So look for that. My original idea was to take my long-since abandoned Metaworld story and give it a facelift and refresh, but I'm probably just gonna let it be dead for now. I've got other ideas to resurrect. I know, I'm horrible... I can't stay with any one project too long unless I have someone standing over my shoulder telling me to finish. Anyway, it's not out of the question, but I've got something else I'd like to try for now.

I'm not working all that much this week. Maybe it's a balance thing... so many people booked so much of last week off that I maybe got overworked (3 8-hour shifts in a row? Yeah...) and now that it's the vacation for us of the college age (as far as I know there's at least one high schooler among us,) th eothers are getting more booked and I'm just doing a couple of nights. I took Shane's Friday night shift, after declining to take a shift tonight. I declined partially because I didn't want to work 4 days in a row for any reason at all, but also because I was bitter about not being able to unload Friday's shift.

But I took Shane's because I think that of all the regulars, he's been the coolest around me. That stems, perhaps, from the fact that he confirmed something that had been bouncing around my head for weeks. His name. I thought I recognized it and placed it, but couldn't be 100% certain. I would've asked him but when you say that and it's a "No" you look like a bit of an ass. so a few nights ago I turn around and see him and he just says, "You were in my grade 3/4 class weren't you?" I give him a tap on the shoulder and say, "That's where I know you from!" It was a split class, and even though looking at the two of us it seems the opposite, I was in the year above him.

I have thoughts on the other people I work with... I mean, who doesn't? ...but there are so many people that maybe I shouldn't run them down on the blog. Some of them are favorable, some of them are not (although less than you'd think.) some are just awkward.

I guess my big objective for my few shifts this week is to just not fuck up at all. Generally speaking I can make it all day with only one serious "Mike, I fucked something up" moment, but it's been a month or whatever so it's gotta stop. (I know this, because that was the exact wording used during my one and only fuck-up yesterday, "Scott, this has gotta stop." I felt bad, but didn't blame him and resolved to try harder.) I wasn't even on my own register, and the guy whose it was wound up with a mountain of paperwork, just because that's the one people came to for all their returns (given it's closest to the door so they make a beeline.) In the same vein as "I fucked up," I maybe feel a bit more guilty about saying "I need you to do a return," even though that's nothing to get stressed about, since it's completely outta my hands. Is it my problem if someone doesn't like their copy of Pirates of the Carribean? Nope. Just, "Let me get someone to help you."

Do I think I stand a chance of getting asked to stay? Not really. Maybe they don't need the need the help, and if they do, there are at least two or three of the temps who are instantly more qualified, and maybe a few more who are equal.

Next week, Mark (*known amongst all my friends as "The HMV Guy," with the long hair,) is doing some holiday service at the store. I'll admit, when I got hired, I was a little upset that I never got to meet him, since apparently he went off to school. Now that I know I'll be working with him... well, the pressure's on, I suppose.

Haha, not really, but yeah.

Lordy, it's so not Christmas around here. I never lose my faith that it'll snow by christmas, but it's looking grim. And if it's not snowy on christms, then when is snow any good? Feh... global warming.

Goodnight everyone, and keep on rockin'
-Scott

IX: Crushing paper cranes

The sad truth of it is that I don't feel like sitting here writing this entry. Given that I've worked the past three days straight I feel I owe it. And I had about a quarter of a post written up that I felt good about. Then a mysterious keystroke, which I have never experienced before and might never hit again, closed the window and I'm stuck with only the topic sentence. Meanwhile, Blogger, in either an obvious attempt to convince me to switch to, or perhaps in the process of spending all their time preparing the "new blogger" (which I have lukewarm feelings about, having tried elsewhere, never mind about that,) have somehow done away with my precious "recover post" link, so I'm left only with this first line:

"I'm sick of un-flattering impersonations of me. And bad Borat impressions."

The first sentence refers to the infrequent occasions where someone will remind me of something I have apparently done, but exaggerate the details in acting it out to make me look like an insane person. The second is just me jabbing out at these people I bowled against who, in their frat-like poser world, insist on saying everything as they imagine Borat might say it... except in getting the accrent atrociously wrong and stripping away all the funny.

I was sore, as expected this morning, but bowling can be therapeutic. It's a very slow, gradual use of musculature (legs, back, one arm,) with frequent pauses between motions, perhaps to let your muscles breathe. So I wasn't all that hampered at bowling, but I knew I wasn't going to make it through work. And, upon arriving, working for a while, and realizing that I was wearing my non-work shoes, I knew this to be absolutely true. It wasn't a horrible day, but one little fuck-up on cash (which I wasn't even assigned to, just told to handle someone else's, sigh,) put an exclamation point in the middle. Of course, exclamation points don't go in the middle. Jsut at the end, or beginning if you're spanish. Or something. Off-topic? Pretty much.

I can't get the HMV playlist out of my head. I distract myself from Wham by thinking of Brian Setzer. From Brian Setzer I go to Boney M. and let's not even get into Michael Buble. Each of these artists, with the exception of Setzer, is annoying in their own way. But you grin, bear it, and get on with your life while you're working. At home, when you find yourself humming "Careless Whisper," you're in trouble. For some reason, it's never Roger Hodgson. I guess his live solo version of "Dreamer" isn't as effective as the Crime of the Century track. I like Supertramp. And who shouldn't?

Last night after work, I arranged to meet up with Chrisbrown and "others" (I didn't know whom at the time,) for bar night. We'd discussed it the night before, and Alyssa was going to come along but I couldn't reach her (and after speaking to her earlier tonight, I realized I had neglected to ask about that. I assume from all indications it had to do with a big family christmas do.) We got there, and it's a reunion of sorts of people I know but on a sliding scale of how well. Cary, unsurprisingly. And Emma, whom I hadn't seen in months. Kate, Vanessa and Janessa were all there, and Janessa even drank, to my surprise (not that she got sloppy drunk or anything, but hey, one step at a time.) I had one probably well-overpriced beer, which I just barely had the cash to pay for (and no tip) before we hit the road.

After, I tagged with Cary, CB and (obviously) Emma, to Emma's place, where we interrupted the cast party for "Our Town." I didn't stay long, but enough to play catch-up with some of the people there that, despite the age gap, are good friends of mine. CB gave me a lift home circa 1:30 and I crashed moments later.

Though the past few days have been full of events, they have certainly been uneventful nonetheless. There's something to that, good and/or bad, but I'm a little exhausted to be thinking about it and digging into what it really means. I just want to rest.

My plan for tomorrow is to sleep late, and then catch up on writing.

Life ought to have more to it. But what more do I need?

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

VIII: There's never any true control

Although I'm not much in the blogging spirit today (or lately in general) today ought to have some done. I was at work from 11-7, as per my rescheduled shift to accomodate my plans. This is the beginning of a 3-day stretch wherein I'll be working each night until close (no later, hurray.)

So I worked and, for the most part, without incident. Yes, when working retail, you're bound to screw something minor up here and there, and there will be plenty of ways for things to get out of your control, even.

But it was a long day of pushing register keys and swiping cards, mostly. My big snafu came right at the end when I was in the throes of escaping for the night, brusquely brushed off some woman who needed help. I feel bad about it, but mentally I was already off the clock and the wrong guy to ask. This mirrors earlier today when I was about to go on break.

A few weeks ago, during one of my first shifts, a guy called fanatically (but in a very calm, although almost nervous tone) requested Andy Williams Christmas CD's., I spent a very long time on the phone with this gentleman and compelted his order. Moments before I was about to walk away from the cash register, the phone rings. No-one else is available to pick it up. Against my better judgment, I do, and it's him. Knowing it will be a lengthy process talking to this gentleman, I just put him on hold and ask someone to take it for me. Someone did, but noted, "Usually, you should finish taking care of a customer before going on break."

I don't want to be known as the guy who just leaves people in the lurch. I'm constantly walking the floors bothering people to see if I can help them. Sometimes the people just happen to need help at times when I... am not in any responsible form, and have shed my "customer service" persona. I politely but abruptly told the woman "I'm sorry I can't help you," but I might as well have said "Fuck you lady I'm going home," since her reaction may have been the same. And I still feel bad, because I like to help people. I just don't like it when those people need my help at one of two inconvenient times when I am about to leave.

Those two examples I gave did not make me look good. They certainly weren't meant to. I'm only human, and while I can smile and endure virtually anything while I am walking that floor, as soon as my mind has decided I'm off the clock... well I'm just like anybody else. (Except I just happened to still be wearing the t-shirt, a mistake I won't repeat in the future.)

I went to see "Our Town," which I may discuss more in the future (which means I probably won't.) It was a good play, and certainly well acted. However a pall settled over the performance when I learned of some seeminlgy major drama between Rosser and his students. I have a tremendous amount of respect and appreciation for what Rosser does. He and I have often related on a level I rarely do with a teacher. He has helped me reign in my stress-management issues on more than one occasion, he has helped me improve not only my writing but my performances. He's taught me a lot. But sometimes, he just loses it. Just like I did. It's not pleasant, but knowing the universe has that sort of synchronicity is oddly comforting for a Buddhist. People get frustrated. It happens. Things don't go to plan always. You adapt.

After the show, Chrisbrown, Alyssa and I went out for coffee and a breeze-shooting. It was comforting, after a long day of commerce and drama, that I could come back to a relaxed caffinated atmosphere and get back to my reality.

I hope you all are well. And if not, I hope you find your way.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

VII: Another man's fate

Some days, I just don't know.

Today, I do. Or I feel like I do. Last night at work was not hell, but not great either. Whereas mostly my only fuckup is on the register, or taking a really long time to count my cash, yesterday I mostly stayed away from cash and had problems when I couldn't help people on the floor. It seemed to happen a lot more today than usual, and I'm constantly paranoid for mystery shoppers (they're out there, man.)

I had wanted to get out of my friday night shift. Being that most people are smarter than I am about their shifts and book off in advance, I couldn't goad anyone into it. So I'm working friday night after all. On the flip side, I shifted my thursday shift so that I'm only working until 7, so my ultimate objective of seeing Our Town will be filled, jsut not under the circumstances I hoped. That's the story of my life ain't it? Always going for broke and settling for less.

I wasn't all that sore upon waking today, for which I had no explanation, other than maybe I'm rebuilding my stamina when it comes to working absurd hours on my feet all night. After all, it may have been a while, but this is certainly preferable to rushing to put bowling balls away at 11:30 each week.

Today was a mixture of bad and good. I coughed my brains up in Newsrooms Without Walls, which was bad. I'm thinking, though, that if I can pull the same trick during my Friday shift, I can get sent home. It's not faking sick. It's just disgusting. (Maybe I should see a doctor.) I got some very interesting thoughts about the future from Bileski after the class, which was good. Bileski is a good guy to re-assure someone like me. I can always see where he's coming from, and when he tells me I'm young and have enough time ahead of me that I don't have to get locked in a path, I believe it. He encourages me to travel, and bring a video camera. I agree. He also suggested I get Final Cut Pro (though he told many students that.)

As an astonishing co-incidence, Haasim was passing around copies of (a mysteriously-obtained I'm sure) Final Cut Pro. I tried to get it on my computer, but got tripped up by space issues, and took a rain check. I was more interested in getting a copy of Street Fighter II on SNES9x from Joe. I can't seem to beat Ryu, but I'm getting better.

It's officially the end of the semester. My work is done, I'm saying my goodbyes. I'm doing my christmas shopping. Still not really in the spirit, especially when the weather is 7 degrees and breezy, but making an effort now.

I don't suppose I have much left to say. Until I return, you know where to find me.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

VI: Lost in Alphabet City

I've been neglecting the blog lately. And that's terrible.

It's a marked combination of lack of motivation, busy with school/work, and lack of material. Even, however, on nights when I might have some legit material, I don't feel like writing. How did I go all weekend without positng? No idea. Given how much of a nothing day Sunday was, it's hard to believe I didn't post.

But accepting that and moving on, it wasn't that interesting of a weekend. Maybe if I weren't so far removed by now I'd say more on it but there's like zero relevance. I mainly sat around, played video games and bowled. On saturday, Risk was attempted, but it was late and Chris F. wanted to call it a night early. Knowing this we devoted the entire evening (which was a rare night spent at CB's place,) to Wii, which is worthwhile. I'd go so far as to say Wii is more important than Risk, at least for now, and for the foreseeable future.

Sunday was a nice day during which I didn't even leave the house.

Today was dreary outside and dreary inside... my head that is (ho ho...) I spent the bulk of the day chatting up unavailable girls about schoolwork, movies, and how unavailable most girls are (well not really.) I can't deny it, it's been getting to me lately. Sounds lame to carp on, but there it is. Many years ago someone gave me some very astute advice: nobody likes a kid who is always feeling sorry for himself. And I do my best to obey that so it doesn't come out in my everyday life.

I spent much of the morning chatting up Melissa W, who thought Apocalypto would gross like $10, but actually did something like $15 Million.

I went out to lunch today with Haasim, Joe and Amanda (Joe's gal.) I was eluctant but ultimately went along for lack of anything better to do, and because Haasim and I always have a lot to talk about. I had to mention the fact that, for whatever reason ("Because I'm weird, I don't know,") I can't/don't eat in public. My answer depends on my mood and perspective day to day. The point is that I just can't do it most of the time and, unless it's necessary, it's not something I like to do. I have more than a few quirks. Be thankful that's the most outrageous (probably.)

Over the course of the day I also had to straighten out what I'd be doing at the end of the week. It's rare that I decide my plans for the weekend any more than a few hours in advance, let alone weeks. It's absolutely unheard of that I should have three places to be at once. The earliest commitment and one I intend to honor was "Our Town," the WOSS Play I am eager to see as well as being morally obligated. The second was Joe's birthday, which I wanted to go see and until it was announced to be moved timewise, was hoping I could at least put an appearance in at. The third is work, which I have still not technically gotten out of, but am confident I can get arranged tomorrow when I go in.

I'm not sure I'm much in the Christmas spirit this year. At least not yet. I'm too exhausted from school, work, life, etc, etc. Next week I'll maybe have more energy. But it was with very little enthusiasm that I arranged my Christmas Lists for family members. I just shrugged, and gathered up the remnants of previous lists. I asked for an iPod of "any variety" from my mom. I don't want an iPod especially, but who doesn't want an iPod? She kinda owes me one from last May. Go check the archives. I'll wait.

I was in the car with her tonight and she starts carping on some faux pas from not telling her I didn't need a ride home. All right, that was my bad, but it really bothered her. However, it bothered me how much it bothered her, and I've noted before she loves to trap you in the car and have awkward conversations with you. Work is officially on the list of things I never want to talk about with my mother again. Right up there with Frank and...... well really, just Frank.

Blogger will be reformatting soon. I'm not in favour of it, but it's not really my call. I'd rather keep everything about this blog the way it's worked this whole time, but Google has been salivating to "improve" Blogger ever since it bought it. I've tried to Blogger Beta (as it is currently known.) It's not all that impressive, although it allows a certain freedom as it pertains to design. However, having settled my design virtually in cement two and a half years ago, I doubt that that interests me very much. We'll see what effect, if any, this has on future bloggings. Maybe not right away, but eventually.

There's more, but there's also not. There could be time for it later, or it could totally be forgotten.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

V: Future problems are not our concern

There are things I used to think about a lot... when I was in Grade 5, 6, whatever... that I don't think about anymore. Pessimistic, unfounded fears for the future. I used to bug my dad with them all the time. I blame my cousin Elizabeth. She was living with us at the time and some remarks she made in passing helped foster these fears for the future. I had all but kicked them when Y2K came along, but I was still young and impressionable, so I got a little swept up in that. However, it was after that I began to get a little wiser, able to realize the strength of the resolve of civilization to continue even as it throws itself into chaos for no good reason.

After September 11th, those fears had been all but vaporized. It was too much to process, and when life went on, for me and millions of others, I realized that even with the presence of really bad shit out there in the world, life goes on.

Don't read anything about the end of the world. It's one of the best hoaxes from sub-Barnum conmen. It's not coming soon. It's not coming within the next decade. It's not coming in our lifetime. Civilization may not always be at its best, and relations between nations won't always be rosy, but be careful where you go for prophecy. If they're offering one, the chances are strong it's bullshit.

I updated Interneta tonight. I haven't done it in a while, and really the update isn't as substantial as you'd figure after a month and a half or so absence. The truth is I haven't been watching movies, which is odd. It does, however, feature a new rant that some people might be amused by.

I'm typing my way out of a buzz. I've had Stella in the fridge for over a month now and every now and again I'll pull one out for a relaxing night. I don't like to drink at home, but my thinking is that beer doesn't keep forever.

I rigged my MacBook to work as an alarm this morning. I've noted on several occasions in recent months my dissatisfaction with radio morning shows. Lacking a sattelite radio, this was my best option. I actively sought out tips and scripts to make it work. The first time I did it, it was too early, I turned it off and slept in. This morning I took it as is and was in a good mood for school. Which was good, because I had to do a debate.

Dave, Mansoor and I decided to debate the Afghanistan situation, with Dave as the Conservatives, Mansoor as Liberal, and me as NDP. We got maybe more into the role-playing aspect of it than other groups. For my part, I was dressed in my blue shirt (whenever I dress "nice," there always seems to be a payoff these days,) and just did what I feel the role of NDP is: obstruct the political process. My main point was to criticize the Liberals. It had the same outcome as in real politics, too, since only one person seemed to think the NDP was the winner of the debate. The rest was about 60/40, Dave/Mansoor.

Later that day, Mansoor and I went to get our video interview for Bileski's final. He had some very interesting thoughts and I think it will make for a good project.

Yeah, it's coming to the end of finals season. Things are really winding down. Sigh, I suppose, time goes on, and there is much yet to do. I do, sometimes, fear the future.

A depressed time traveller visits his childhood and kills his young self to ensure he never becomes a time traveller.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

IV: Seeking a bird of prey

The world is still a messy place and I am still unmotivated to write.

Jessica T. described it as "Stressmas." Idon't know that stress is what's causing my little crisis, but I doubt it could be helping. A sort of irritation with the excessive burden of existence is the best way I can put it man. But I'm not in low spirits. All I need is to relax.

I've got this debate tomorrow in History. It's kind of a fake debate and I have to be the NDP and argue about Afghanistan. I've made some notes, but basically it's "Afghanistan is a shitty situation and it's everyone's fault but NDP's. Harper sucks Bush all night long."

So it's gotten cold. This should be surprising to exactly no-one.

I was looking over Gen Ed options for next semester, which are even slimmer pickings than this one. Basically it's a choice between learning about Vampires, drugs, or writing about myself.

...that's right. One of the classes is about writing about yourself. How appropo, as the kids say. Wait, no, kids don't talk like that. Shit, my brain's even more messed up than I assumed.

I wonder how long before I become sick of Christmas commercials. I seem to be coping fine so far, but this time next week, who knows?

Life oughtta work itself out soon. I had a conversation yesterday with Haasim along those lines, deciding what to do with the future. And me, man, I still got no clue. I can only take life as it comes, one step at a time.

I've just gotta get out of this rut. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

III: Don't say you weren't invited

I'm feeling tense tonight, man. Like the world is poking and prodding at me. I dunno.

It was a pretty fun day I suppose. Rather than yet another video in Bileski's class, we just chilled out and watched the video. I felt good about that because after work the night before I was kinda wiped. You know how it is when you work until midnight putting shit away and helping make the store look nice for the next day. You get a little beat.

And then it was on to Roy's party, a fun way to send the man off which was almost more trouble than it was worth. But it was fun to just sit around the newsroom eating and not doing work, and have that actually be the directive for the day as opposed to that being how it plays out.

But I'm a little wound up. I'm trying to work through some writer's block. I didn't used to get writer's block, but suddenly I'm realizing that months have gone by and I haven't done any "real writing." Hell, I can't even get all that into this post. But then again, nothing really interesting happened today.

I'm feeling an overall drop in motivation across the boards. I realized today that something happened in the past year that was really unexpected. I like the people I go to school with. Most of them, anyhow. It's fucking weird. I not only have tolerable conversations with them, I know shit about them, have conversations with them, have jokes with them. Shit, dude. Didn't see it coming.

I mean, at the beginning of my first year of college, I actually wrote (not here) "I think I could go the whole year without saying a word to any of these people." That was obviously not true, and if it was, it would be a problem.

I say this because I realized at the end of next week it'll be three weeks until I see any of these people again. And while I'm not some overemotional type who is gonna get misty eyes and obnoxiously declare "You guyz all mean sooo much to me I'll miss you!" I gotta think that for once that means something to me. I dunno man.

On the flipside, it'll be nice

Anyway, I'm not really feelin' the blog tonight. I've given what I can.

Keep on rockin' anyhow
Scott

II: Each night when my esophagus closes

I suppose I'll make this one a quicker one, since I'm tired and there's not much to say. As opposed to last nights, which took hours of distracted typing.

I was in a good mood today. I had gotten lots of sleep, a good eventful weekend, and was basically in a good mood. I buzzed around happily for much of the day. Then my thoughts turned to my law assignment which I'd had no intention of doing and put no effort into whatsoever. That class is going to kill my mark. I have no care for this, strangely. I've never been one who is concerned with marks. And since the course is built around "Worry about portfolio first, covet marks second," I've had no reason to. I've been concerned with doing layout and gathering leftover stories to do.

Law class is a severe morale killer for me. Let's set aside the fact that I've never been a law guy. Add that to the fact that the class goes from 4-6 PM on a monday evening and I usually haven't had a decent lunch. Consider the teaching style which leave some inconsistencies in the end result, and a general confusion about where I'm at that is right in line with everyone else's confusion. Mix these ingredients up and you've got the end of Scotto's good mood for the day. I came home, made dinner (or helped at any rate,) and then sat around whilst certain brothers stewed in a bad mood for unrelated reasons I didn't want to get into.

Speaking of stewing, the whole house smells like soup because my mom is on this insane diet so she can lose 10 Lbs before Christmas. Well, that's a woman's perogative if she wants to be concerned with her physique. Whatever. I'm secretly concerned this was brought on by something Tim said, because he made a similar comment toward me (??)

By the way, the bridge between those two paragraphs was the best segué ever. You all know it.

I don't know what to expect tomorrow. Work until midnight, which I'm becoming adept at.

You know, there was a time when I was really motivated and excited about doing things. In fact, I believe I used to fancy myself a writer, if I recall correctly. Maybe I'll try that again someday.

Oy, it's going to be a long two weeks.

Keep on rockin'
-Your only true Scotto

I: They'll call it anything but ours...

Tonight's title courtesy of "Freestyle (Why they don't like rap)" by poet Sonnet L'Abbe. She's a groovy lady and a clever poet.

It's been a long few days. In describing them, I'm going to start in the middle and work my way around back to it. It's called circular storytelling and if I didn't invent it, I'm certainly prepared to make it a trademark.

I arrived at the GO station at 6:10 last night after dinner with dad. I had been asked earlier in the week to come to Toronto and see a play, The Killdeer, as presented at U of T, and stage managed by Alyssa. I had attempted to gather enthusiasm for it on Facebook, but I find that Facebook really just makes it easier for people to politely decline to do things, via the "Maybe attending" RSVP. I'll admit to having done it once or twice, and I can't speak for everybody but in those cases I was legitimately inteested in the events in question. Take for instance a movie Haasim was going to see for an article (I believe) that had my curiosity, but that night I was still exhausted from work two nights earlier and the prospect of work the next night, not to mention there was a new episode of the Office that night (and the first new Scrubs of the season.) Anyway, with the general scattering of people, other business and usual exam chaos, I was, as I figured I would be, alone. I had some reluctance right up until I reached the station, as I do virtually any timeI leave the house. But as soon as I had the ticket in my hand I thought "Yeah! This is gonna be an adventure!"

Indeed...

It's a pretty tedious schlep to Toronto via GO and TTC. What can I say? Oakville to Union, Union to St. George. So I get off the subway and I think; okay, what did the directions say? South somehow? What street was the theatre on? It started with a D... I don't know why I didn't write it down or figure out beforehand how to get to the theatre from the subway stop. The site said it was a "two minute walk," and as it turned out, it was. However, if you go for 5 minutes in the wrong direction then have to reverse direction, and repeat up to three times before finally finding someone to ask for help, it adds up. I got off the subway at 7:30 and arrived at the theatre, two minutes away, at about 7:59, with the show set to start at 8:00. It's fun to get distracted by the bright lights of Bloor and Avenue.

So I found the theatre right in time t took my seat moments before the lights went down and the show started. Am I going to mark out over it like I traditionally do for WOSS Drama? Of course not. That doesn't mean it wasn't a good show. It was very well-acted, particularly some of the smaller roles (Kearston Lyons as Madame Fay and William Burr as Mr. Manatee were terrifically villainous,) and the lead actor Alan F. Campbell as Harry portrayed a fascinating change of character in the second act. THere were, I'll admit, parts when I wasn't comfortable with the script shifting over themes and motifs, but that's no knock on the company who put on a good show.

The show ran 2 hours 30 mins-or-so, which I'm told by Eric is the standard time for a stage production. It was after 10:30 at any rate when I met up with Alyssa in the lobby. I gave her some of my thoughts and cleared my throat something nasty. My throat had been polite enough not to cough much during the show, but now it was scratchy like a muthafacka. So yeah, that was nasty. She told me she'd have to attend to some Stage Manager-type things, and I checked my watch, somehow under the impression that I had a train to catch, said a farewell and split.

I've gotten into the habit, I think, of blaming everything on other people, things, forces, for problems I make for myself or am responsible for. I hate to be a drag, but it's a quirk I've come to notice about myself. At work, if it looks like anything might get messy, my mantra is "Some customer did it." I never use that excuse, but it always hovers in back of my mind. When inqusited on my e-zine's lateness, I immediately pegged it on the lateness of my interview with Dan Shive. Of course that's really more my problem for not asking sooner or outlining a timeline and saying "Dan please get it back to me by then." Of course, since I felt from the beginning that the timeline for E-Zine was ludicrous, I just plain wouldn't have. Anyway, on this night, my excuse was that the GO train left at such a time and I'd better be on it.

Even as I was leaving the theatre I knew that was not quite right. And when I arrived at Union station, empty coffee cup in hand (bitter and purchased at Tim's to make the outrageous $2.75 change) I realized that I had a full 40 minutes until the westbound train got in. What a shmuck. Okay, so I would likely just have been sitting around waiting for her to finish cleaning shit up for 45 minutes, then hang out for 5 minutes before I actually did catch the train, but my poor time management skills made me go all like "shit I gotta go." So go I went. And sit around at Union I did.

While waiting, I dug a green pen out of my jacket pocket and scrawled some notes down on a free magazine. Some I kept, like an opening line, "She closed the drawer on a box of condoms." I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but I'm sure you can't wait to hear more either. Some I left behind, such as my observations on a pair of girls. One of them had heeled shoes that were unstrapped, and I speculated as to why she opted for that. I left that note somewhere in the station. Another one said "I hope you're with the one you love tonight. It's cold out." Each one had a plug for Redneck Comics. Anywhere else it'd be graffiti (or at best, littering,) but in Toronto I suspect it's avant garde art.

Those two girls I mentioned were, like everyone else, headed westbound. I was sitting not far from them on the train, after making brief, awkward conversation. They got off at Port Credit, and here's where the awkwardness set in. One of them left her purse and I hadn't noticed until the train was pulling out. They were practically passed out in their seats so I imagine it was not with great care they checked for their luggage as they disembarked. So I'm stuck with the moral responsibility of having been the one to notice a lost purse. I had to go through it to find an address and then I had to hang onto it, a man with some little black leather job from H&M. I kept it concealed under the Classic the whole way home.

The Classic, by the way, is my new name for my coat in its combined shell+lining form. The Classic.

I had intended to write this all down after getting home, and was even up for several hours with the intent of doing so, but was otherwise distracted. Grocery shopping ensued this morning. I mentioned about the purse to mom and that I intended to go to the post office to send it back, she went all fanatical that it had to be done a certain way, where I'd call her, or the GO people to see if she'd called them, and make it infinitely more complicated than it was. I thought, "What the shit? Like they care? Why can't I just pack it in a bubble-envelope and get it out of my life?" Upon seeing it was not an older woman's purse (just a 16-year-old girl's, with a Debit card, a G1, somw mints and makeup,) she acquiesced to let me do whatever the hell I wanted with it. $10 postage later and it's out of my life. It'll be back to her by Tuesday, so hopefully she's not freaking out too badly out there, wherever she is.

Part of me just wanted to abandon the damn thing on the train, but in good conscious I couldn't do that. People don't care for other peoples' goods, and your odds of finding an item left on public transit are not very good. The purse didn't seem to contain anything too valuable, but it's a karma thing. and besides, it may jsut have been part of some weird social experiment, which by sending it back, I've passed. Or maybe some pay it forward thing. This can only have a positive effect on the worlld. I rule.

So it's the end of rainy eason, the beginning of snow, I imagine. The christmas lights are up and maybe I won't have to pull out the umbrella for the rest of the year (although with the global warming you never know,) which is all good. Okay, I hate the cold, but I hate cold rain very much. Not just as a pet peeve or personal annoyance, either. It's a personal vendetta. It was fucking god damn mother fucking pull-out-the-splash-pants pouring on Friday. I got to school and had to immediately remove my shoes for fear of some horrible mildewy rash. Then I held them under the hand dryer in the washroom for like 15 minutes, with mixed results (one got dry, one didn't, wtf?) Mansoor, ever the saint, gave me a lift home, after getting lunch and a visit with the World AIDS day girls. It had cleared up by the time I set out for work later that day. Of course, I had to wear my old shoes, much like when I was el Porter del Classic Bowl (they were better for walking back and forth, which I did a lot of that night.) Despite the crazy business (really "busy-ness") of HMV during midnight madness, it wasn't a bad day for work. Lindsay wasn't there and I didn't screw up very much. There was a major, major, major, major SNAFU with gift receipts (Doug your advice was sage yet alas unheeded,) but it was easily undone by the manager on duty, Matt, who was a good guy to work with (as was "Other Scott," a stigma I can't seem to avoid. People love to name their kids Scott. I've long since made my peace with that.)

The highlight was this very nervous and awkward-sounding guy who called in on a quest for Andy Williams Christmas albums, which I was able to order for him, but he was very particular. I guess that's the audience that listens to Andy Williams. but it got me familiar with TRACK, for which I thank the guy.

When I got home, I was comfortable and happy, but I was kept up half the night coughing for no good reason. It was disgusting. As you can imagine, this is where the story gets on the fast track to coming full circle. I don't know what it is, but I'm back to cough-city. I imagine it's because last saturday I walked around cold downtown all afternoon, after overestimating the "heatwave" of the 12-degree day. Hopefully I can get past this and not be sick to my stomach from coughing again.

I slept late on Saturday morning, obviously bushed from working the night before, yet strangely not too-too sore to bowl. It all worked out well actually, as I didn't overexert myself as a result. Good day.

One of the more entertaining weekends all in all in recent memory. Start from the middle, work your way around to it again.

And now, tomorrow comes stomping through.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotts