Part V: Sexual monstrosity

The title of this post was stolen from my Film TA, used to describe the "monster figure" in the film Cat People. I loved it so much when I heard it on Friday that I wrote the letters "SM" on my hand so I would remember to use it somewhere.

I'll probably not make this a long one. It's 2:30 nearly and I'm tired and I just want to relieve whatever's on my mind before I go shut myself in my room and write poetry. And I say that only because I have a poem due on Wednesday and I'm in a mood where if I don't capitalize it might not happen.

It suddenly struck me how cool it is that part of my life is having to write a poem every now and again. I'm obligated to be creative. That's pretty good, I'm glad I've gotten to that place.

The last few days have been fairly standard. Blah. A little hectic, a little sore, a little frustrated, a little triumphant but not much.

I ran into CB at the GO station on Friday. His train was late and my train was early for being late later. I managed to just barely make it to my Philosophy tutorial as it was starting. The course of the period was spent in the midst of a fascinating conversation of which I scarcely took part. There was a surprising turnout, actually, more people than I've seen in that room all semester.

An hour after that ended was English. As I had barely read any of Maud Martha (I flipping suck) I was a little lost yet it still fell on my shoulders to help the discussion along. Not solely, but largely. It was not really turning out to be a terriffic day, actually. And film more or less continued the gray-coloured trend.

I had set up a whole bunch of mnemonic devices to remind myself to cancel my ticket. All day long I repeated silently my mantra, "See the busker, cancel the ticket." Meaning right as I am leaving Union's subway area I look to see if there is a performer there, and looking in that area will remind me "Oh yeah, the ticket." I didn't necessarily need to look to be reminded, but it helped me think about it all day.

I got home to find that Eric and Brando were on the couch playing co-op on their DS's. Eric told me how Sheridan was in lockdown that day - in fact, as we were speaking they were. He was just leaving, his clas had been let out early, when the call was made. As he had his foot out the door, a mysterious voice on the PA announced, "This is not a drill."

We later found out that, after the school was locked down for two hours and all the police and jazz were called in, it was just a guy carrying a tripod. This was somewhat retarded given how many photography students the school has. I was really worried for a while until I heard that. Then I just chuckled and shrugged. What are ya gonna do?

Well we went tobogganning again, me Chris, Edgar and Ryan, as well as Jordon, a friend of theirs we ran into. It was a good night, and we all actually drank (this time I had the least alcohol and was the least drunk when we got back to Chris' for an ill-advised Risk game.) We had some fierce GT wars and nothing overly absurd happened except for Chris getting, in his words, "crunched."

In any case I've been feeling edgy lately. And this may have expressed itself earlier tonight during the re-started Risk game when I started to get a little bitchy when I was getting wiped out of the game. I just really miss the old days of CB and Pat. Where the hell have those guys been? I'm getting a little misty-eyed. We watched Futurama: Bender's Big Score, and the Big Lebowski.

I went to the optometrist today. It was my first visit to this particular one, he was a nice enough guy and saw me without an appointment (at his earliest convenience.) the night before I'd been talking with dad and we both agreed it was time, so it was no surprise when the receptionist told me my dad was coming in later.

He told me nothing new, except for some pleasant news. Your eyes are mostly staying stable; not much change just a long period of time. You should get them checked more often than every four years, etc etc. New frames tomorrow.

I was in HMV with Eric. This story's all out of order, owing to the disorganization of my mind. We were in there, he was cashing out, Lindsay my old Asst. Manager, asked me what was up. She was decidedly perky and upbeat, which was a side of her I did see but rarely directed toward me. I don't think there was anything wrong with the way she was, she was just the average stressed managerial type and I was the n00b temp employee whose crap she didn't have time for. Not really a big deal although I like her better when I'm the customer.

Anyway, like I said, not much to it all... I can't put my finger, or my words, in this frustration. I'm hoping it comes out on the page. I'm off.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto