2.2: Nobody can make you do it

Every saturday, when I find myself sitting around the house, I tell myself I might go out. Then I sit here thinking about, what a hassle and for so little payoff. And I just sit and think about those two things until it's too late and I go to bed.

Then I observe that it's been a few days since my last entry (my modus operandi lately) and maybe I can kill an hour or so by taking care of that.

I left off on Wednesday, prior to North by Northwest. Well that was of course very enjoyable, and then it was Poetry. That was the usual stuff. I read my latest one out for workshopping. I noted beforehand that, over the course of the last 20 minutes, I had re-written the ending, to much approval. In feedback, everyone seemingly unanimously agreed that the original ending was awful. They all gushed over the rest of it, but the original ending was mind-blowingly bad, and the new one fit well. I acknowledged the original ending was lame, which is why I re-wrote it. Reiby asked when I had come to that conclusion, and I told him "About 4 seconds before I wrote it." I had the ending, ephemerally, in my head from the start, but the words for once wouldn't come out, so I included a knowingly lame ending.

So I caught the subway back to Union. I originally rendered that sentence "I caught the subway home," which would be strangely inaccurate given that Union station is not my home. As per usual, I met up with Ryan Lai and we sat and talked through the ride. The nearby eavesdroppers might have been bemused by our somewhat spirited conversation about a recent article I'd read on the top 100 video games of all time.

Thursday I'd earned. It was my day off and I had some very important business to attend. This of course would be after meeting Amanda for coffee since we hadn't hung out in a few weeks. We caught up on the usual matters and did some browsing and whatevers. But eventually it became very important for me to go. I had an essay due the next day I hadn't started.

So when I got home I tried to settle in to do work. but of course there was a kitchen full of dishes. I mean it in the most severe way; both of the kitchen sinks were stacked high with plates and baking sheets caked with thick rubbery grease. The counter was littered with glasses. It was havoc. So I put on some lunch and took care of that. And then mom e-mails me (pet peeve: I wish my mother didn't use the computer but oh well) and says how she wants the driveway cleared. Well it had warmed up that day so all that was left weas a spattering of slush and a trickle of ice, so I let it be and spread some salt. Finally free of distractions, I got down to work on my essay.

At least I would have, but I had to go to the Library first and get the book I should already have started for English (it's rather short.) Then I set down and re-read the assignment sheet. Not following directions had cost me substantial marks on the last essay so I wanted to get it spot-on this time. It was in reading this that I'd discovered that my thesis was now invalid since I included one of the books I'd already written about.

My brain had a miniature explosion.

I had dipped a toe into the essay only to be tossed back onto dry land. I had formulated a half-assed thesis that, if borne out proerply, may have garnered me a B. Now I had nothing. I had to act fast; time was wasting.

Immediately on impulse, I checked the Oakville Library to see if White Oaks had a copy of the Faulkner book available. They did. I had one of those "Let's roll" moments; back to the Library I went. On the way, I thought "What is my thesis? What is the link between these two books??" But I didn't have to agonize too long before it revealed itself to me; practically an entire essay all at once.

Of course, by the time I got home we had to run out and do grocery shopping and get dinner (we picked up ribs from the grocery store's meals-2-go counter.) But after that it was hardcore essay time. So between 8:00 and 11:00 I was hardcore hammering away at my essay with zero distraction. I pored through my books for references to cite (I should mention that I picked Faulkner because it was the one I had the best claim to understanding) and scoured the web for online resources. I'll not get into it here, but the point of the essay was to compare those two books to some form of new media, ie the internet.

I told Amanda later - we hung out this morning also - that I had a number in my head I had to be satisfied with. I have high hopes for this essay and I'm very fond of it, but I have to constantly remind myself of a low number I have to consider successful; 74 seems to be the magic number.

Anyway, shortly before 11 I was just coming down the stretch at the concluding paragraph when my brain stalled. People I've told this to expressed disbelief; the concluding paragraph is the easiest part of an essay, you just sum up your arguments. Well when I went to do this all that came out was circular gibberish. It may be a simple task but it wasn't coming out right. Frustrated at myserlf, and tired from typing consecutively for 3 hours (during which I excitedly typed about 6 pages, double spaced, researched on-the-spot,) I decided to take a break for the Daily Show. The half-hour became an hour (can't miss Colbert) which became bedtime. And me with an unfnished essay.

Luckily, I had an opening. My first class on friday was at 9, and my English tutorial was at 11, leaving me an hour during which to complete a single paragraph, organize a works cited page, clear up any spelling errors, and make sure I keep the same stance throughout the paper. And that's exactly what I did. This story does indeed have a happy ending; at least until I get my mark back.

I'm not a very good student. I do okay most of the timne, but as far as study habits go I'm the pits. I've made a resolution to remedy this but I doubt it will take. I'm trying, but maybe it's just not me.

I'm considering attempting to take some time to work overseas. I saw a post in the men's room at Innis advertising this. It was a government website, but I didn't note the URL because I don't prefer to hang around the men's room staring at posters. But I think it would be nice to go someplace and earn money.

On that note, earlier this evening, (after a day wasting away in front of the PS2, and a delicious roast dinner,) I finally set forth on my goal to reclaim my birth certificate. Somewhere along the wayt I lsot it, and having it would be useful in case I ever needed to prove my existence to anyone. I mentioned I had lost it, and dad as always, reacted as though it were a) the first time he had ever heard it and b) the worst news you could possibly deliver. It seriously bothers/frustrates him. So I threw down the gauntlet and said "Okay, let's do this right now."

Naturally, we couldn't, because you need a guarantor, but we filled out much of the application anyway and dad put in a call to his brother, a policeman (and a very high ranking one at that) with the North Bay police. So I'm on my way.

I don't know if I'll actualyle nd up going; like my fabled hypothetical trip to Australia, it might just turn out to be one of those things where I'm all talk. But it's things like that, that motivate me.

I put things like that (the birth certificate thing) off way too long.

Keep on rockin for a vote of confidence,
-Scott