Round 8: And.

Clearly I have time management issues.

I haven't posted in like a week. I just opened a printer my dad brought me the day after Christmas (he can be randomly benevolent when he sees a good deal.) I have procrastinated all month regarding submitting some pieces to a magazine that is due tomorrow at midnight. Oh, and the reviews. Ugh. I suck. It could be worse, though. Last year I procrastinated on making New Years arrangements until leaving my house that night. It was a sorry night for yours truly.

Given this will inevitably be the last entry of the year - or possible second last as I may split it in two (there's precedent for that) I oughtta go over the whole week. Because that's how we do business here on SWP.

Christmas was a lovely day for a holiday gathering, considering how nasty the previous day was. It was clear skies and salted roads. I got up, gathered the guys, and we went to dad's. We hung around there for a while until Alex and his ladyfriend came over and it began to seem like maybe we ought to go. Not because of Alex and his ladyfriend, but because the day was slipping away. As soon as mom and Tim came home we opened gifts and then headed over to Toronto to visit the rest of the family. Jon, our boarder, came along, because he has no family around. He's probably the nicest person we've had in that room by a wide margin... personable, respectful, friendly, quiet. He's a big hit with the aunts.

Anyway, the day concerned helping Cameron play with his new trainset (a Christmas staple) and roughhousing with him, and also playing Mousetrap, which he seemed to take very hard when it briefly wouldn't work. In the interim, I chatted up Aunt Lori about some of her recent work opportunities. She's gotten away from a rather toxic working relationship with President's Choice and into some new clients. She said she's got a fair amount of work on her plate these days and loves it. And then I said something I had no idea I was going to say - "Need an intern?"

It was half a joke. I could probably do it, to some degree, and could use the cash. Not that I want that to be my career goal, but if she needs me, I feel like I could offer something. and she agreed... so if she does ever need me, she might call me. Not that I'm keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

I spent most of Boxing Day waiting for a bus. I walked down to the comic store for a long-overdue visit. It was cold, but not blistering or anything. The kind of weather that necessitates a touque and a warm cup of coffee. Anyway, just as I got to the shop I saw the #14 bus passing, and cursed my bad luck. I was only going to be in the store a few minutes and the next bus wasn't for about a half hour. So I walked a ways to a faraway bus stop to kill time, and stood and waited. Nothing of interest happened for a long time. Then I realized slightly more than a half hour passed and no bus had come. Then I did two things:

1) I went to a nearby Second Cup and bought a cup of somewhat wretched eggnog-flavoured coffee
2) I nearly got on a Zone Bus, but he told me not to.

I've no idea what order these things happened, but by the time the next 14 arrived - and hour after I saw it pass the comic store earlier - I'd finished my coffee and resolved to do something against my personal code, pay full fare for the bus. (If I can get away with it, I usually just ride to or from the station and walk the rest of the way, since I usually carry a 10-ride or monthly pass.)

Anyway, while on the bus I noticed they were jacking the prices up once again to a whopping $3, or 65 goddamn cents if you have a GO ticket. Marthafucker. This, while gas prices have bottomed out at 66 cents. Talk about a deepening recession.

Saturday was balls. After grocery shopping, the mall, and an ill-fated trip to Blockbuster where we attempted to brave icy pools of melting slush, resulting in me getting a soaker that lasted for two days hence, all for the sake of Lost. Eric and I spent Saturday night and Sunday afternoon watching season 4, finishing that season only moments before I was due to go off and play a dire game of Risk.

Pat and Chris had arranged a game with some of their ex-Staples coworkers for the pride of our school. It seems their opponents had added a third to their "team" so they called me in. I was flattered, since speaking practically they should probably have called RyLai, but then again, maybe they did and he was busy. Or something, who am I to say?

I arrived early (for the sake of a convenient ride) and caught up with Pat. Then Chris showed up and we talked strat. Then I randomly demonstrated my Cryptogram skills. Then our opponents arrived.

They took an early lead in continents, with Chris being decimated early on in Africa, relegated to a small compartment of Asia. Meanwhile, our opponents were taking both the Americas in addition to Africa, and keeping me from holding Europe. At one point, when Chris was at his lowest, he said, "I'm going to win this game, and I know exactly how I'm going to do it." He may have been exaggerating but I knew what he meant, too. Pat cleared the way by using the backdoor slice from Australia through Kamchatka to Alaska and clearing "Pete the Coward" out of much of North America. It was a strategy earlier proposed they would "Never suspect," and they didn't. Chris followed that same path after cashing a set and ended up taking Pete out. His exit was followed sometime later by the loss of Mack, who was introduced to the group for the first time. As people began to get tired and surly (no DVDs to keep peoples' attention, we were in a kitchen) Kat, the main opponent Pat and Chris sought to defeat, clung in and would not go down without a fight. Eventually it became too much, and victory was ceded to Chris. He did exactly what he said he would. For my part, I didn't play as well as I could have, but did okay all things considered.

During the course of this, we watched some of their Europe videos (including Ping Island) and talked New Years. Looks like I've got something to do, since Chris was keen on me tagging along to the party he's going to (I'll know most of the people there anyway.)

Yesterday was a pretty uninteresting day. I worked, and that was good. Probably my last shift. I mentioned to Assistant Manager Aryn that if they ever needed someone to come back, please call me. I think I get along well enough with everyone and it beats training someone new. I only occasionally behave like a dumbass. Aryn and I didn't get to talk much in prior shifts, but he's a cool guy and like Mandy (one of my favourite people ever) enjoys Aerosmith. I say Mandy is one of my favourite people ever not just because she likes Aerosmith (it helps) and graphic novels, but because she randomly made a reference to Allan Ginsberg. I mean seriously, who does that, other than Alyssa? She, I'll miss most of all.

After that shift, I bought some stuff - Office season 4 and the Goonies for $6 - and said some goodbyes to Eric and B. They left for Montreal early this morning and won't be back until the 2nd.

Today was uninteresting and quiet, spent mostly yelling at the dog. Sometimes, it's less than convenient to have a blind dog. At dinner with dad and Deb, James and his girlfriend came over and we all talked University.

I'm listening to Rod Stewart's Maggie May. I haven't heard that song in a while but downloaded it today because of that. Years and years ago, my dad was driving this beat-up Buick whose radio didn't work. The only tapes he had were Rod Stewart's Every Picture Tells a Story album and a bunch of AmWay inspirational tapes. I managed to internalize those tapes to the point where it became a shtick I do at parties. Ask me about it sometime.

Hm. I guess it wasn't all that massive of a post after all. A lot went on over the past few days, but not much of it was really all that blogworthy. I suppose I'm just annoyed at how I'll be back at school this time next week, back to the grind.

Years and years ago, the tradition was that my cousin Kris would come down with his family at Christmas and stay past New Year's. His family doesn't come down at Christmas anymore, and I haven't seen him in many months. Times change, you know?

Well, hopefully, when you lose your sanity, you'll keep your happiness.

Keep on rockin'
Scott Williams

Round 7: The wrong kind of pizza

As is often the case, we made an oven pizza for dinner. However, because we've gotten into a routine about it, it ended up being a deluxe pizza, which Eric doesn't care for. I felt bad enough about that, but when I apologized he didn't seem to accept that. Damn it's unnerving when someone doesn't accept an apology. It's so immaterial and yet it's a meaningful gesture.

It's been a tiring Christmas Eve. I worked last night and accumulated numerous tales of stress while doing so. At one point I was left to my own devices on cash while my managers went to smoke. That was slightly uncool and later, after they'd come back, I think I was somewhat unhinged. I think I hid it okay, until I had to split my attention between doing cash and signing off for the guy who had forgotten to do so. I suppose I could've just patched him through to the back to take care of that, but gosh darnit, my quick-thinking skills had been thoroughly fried by the repetitive nature of "Find everything okay tonight? Need a gift receipt for this?" Bluh. Got a little heck for it, but life goes on.

I woke up on this mild Christmas Eve around ten. I'd rolled over, thinking "Five more minutes" when I got the knock from mom. "Help me, I can't get out of the driveway!" Spah. So I get my shoes and my snowpants on, not in that order, over my pyjamas. I head outside and grab a shovel and find mom's car still buried in snow. "Well," I groaned, "At least try." So as she's clearing the snow off her windshield she keeps repeating for my benefit, "It's not gonna work, there's too much snow I can't get out." But it's slightly over zero so the snow is rapidly liquefying. So I just roll my eyes - we Williams boys will do whatever we can to avoid any actual work - and say "Just try to get out first, then I'll do what needs to be done." So finally she gets in the car, repeating her mantra of "It won't work, I need your help," then turns the ignition, and drives off without a hitch. I smirk and roll my eyes. A lot of the time I'm full of it, but just as often, I know my shit.

Well anyway, I cleared some driveway as a show of good faith, before going to the mall with Amanda. We didn't meet up this past weekend because she was visiting her mom. I got all huffy because the weather was gross and because of work and drivewaygate. We did our usual thing, and she bought this induction stove after much hemming and hawing over which was the better buy - the one or two-stove version. Life went on.

I ran some errands in this disgusting weather, swapping out Chris' Lost season 2 for his Season 3. And on the way there, I slipped on some ice and tweaked my neck. It's still a little stiff. Hrm.

Anyway. As the ran kicked up - Crazy-Ass Christmas Eve rain - I neglected any shoveling duties I might have had, and Eric and I spent the day watching Lost. I wish I had some grand thoughts for the holiday, but I spent them on my Facebook holiday greeting, and they're not particularly grand. I'm keeping things in perspective this year... 2008 was all right, but 2009 has a ton of potential.

Anyway. I was working the other day, and I ran into Kershaw. Even though we buried the hatchet by talking a lot in late Grade 12, there's always been this palpable awkwardness in our interactions. I can never shake the reverberations of what he said to me when he made it very clear he no longer wanted my friendship. Some of it was hurtful, some of it angered me, and some of it was very, very true. I was not always the easiest person to deal with in those days. I have spend a good deal of time since then wondering why it was he felt the need to end our friendship so dramatically, rather than talking it out or even simply putting up with it. I think Josh Kershaw is, at heart, a very good guy, who has a habit of letting his annoyance with others get the better of him. Just like, back in those days, I was a generally good guy who had a habit of letting stress get the better of me. I try to manage, but sometimes I get taken too far still, like when I was overwhelmed last night. Cycles, life. Cycles.

I've come a long way, but still have far to travel. More tomorrow. More next year.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto

Round 6: Witty rejoinders are my stock in trade

Kay so.

The gap between these past two entries easily likely comprises the biggest gapo between entries in the history of this bad boy. Not that I've missed a great deal of massive eventage here on SWP, but at the same time, the lack of updates isn't for lack of material. Call it a lack of motivation. It's been quite a week for yours truly and managing work, blogs, comics, CX-Mafia, daydreaming, Lost, christmas shopping and the occasional exam makes my to-do list a lengthy round-up of things I don't utterly have to do, and so don't... until at long last, we come to now, when the nothingness becomes oh so tiresome. Y'know?

Consider Wednesday, the first day in a very, very long time I was up before the sun, deliberately no less, to take my long-awaited exam on Sci-Fi film. I took the good ole 9:58 train - now apparently direct from Oakville to Union rather than Oakville to Clarkson to Union. Good times. I got off the subway at Queen's Park and walked up College a little ways to the Exam Center, which sure beats having an exam in the gym. I met up with my friend Chelsea and we gabbed a bit. Seemingly in every class I have a person - usually a female (fancy that) I end up sitting next to most or all the time. The crazy vastness of the average lecture hall seems to beg the need for this kind of continuity. There are exceptions, but yeah.

There was kind of a weird saga all year with Chelsea. She's cool and everything but I never saw myself as in a position to get anywhere. Mostly I just made lameass chit chat about class, and she didn't seem all that into me. Anyway - around the second day or so, when we were talking (having just spoken for the first time the previous day, after having the same tutorial last year,) we ran into this other guy in our class, Brandon, who worked his way into our conversation. And I'm just like, "Whatever," and go on with my life, but as the semester went on, I really began to suspect Brandon a) disliked me, b) dug Chelsea, and/or c) perceived me as a potential rival for her. I have no idea how far off base I am on any of those assumptions is, whether he dud dig Chelsea, whether he disliked me, where there was anything at all but a dude trying to be a friend with a girl. I don't know. But I did always get the sense of a cold shoulder whenever he'd be around both of us. Like I said, I'd written off getting anywhere right off the bat anyhow, partly because my early attempts were blocked by his presence, and I got into that pattern and moved on. But Chelsea and I remained friendly, and in fact sat next to each other in nearly every screening, for what it's worth. Every screening, that is, except the last one, for the Japanese film Pulse. I walked into hat screening to find her already in there, with Brandon on one side, and Brandon's friend on the other side. Call me paranoid, but I perceived this as an attempt to deliberately box me out. But then again, I'm pretty damn self-centered and expressing this opinion ain't news - I've got about 1080 entries that reflect this.

So I arrive for this exam and Brandon and his friend are across the room while I'm gabbing with Chelsea. Dunno what that's about, if anything, but usually when I'd be chatting her up, they'd be nearby to come on in and chat her up with slightly more conviction. I have to give them that - rivalry or not, Brandon was a little better at composing himself. Me, I've been a tad distracted all semester anyhow.

The exam itself was a fine example. I had put off studying to the point where I might as well have walked into the test utterly cold, but I had read at least one excerpt, something I'd skipped over during the course and seemed necessary. It turned out to be just a tad exaggerated in vitality, but I'm glad I read it anyhow. The first 40% of the exam was multiple choice, which I'm sure I did very well at. Then there was quote attribution, short essay, and long essay. The short essay I whipped up a little sweetness about the alien encounters in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. For the longer one, I talked about the nature of exposition in Stalker and The Day The Earth Stood Still. That last one might be my achilles heel, because by the time I got to the last page I was so eager to go I prematurely ejaculated my conclusion and said "Fuck it" and handed that bitch in. Also, my thesis wasn't terrific anyhow. I was in such a hurry to leave that, after collecting my term paper from the TA, I left my bag and coat behind as I walked out of the room. Then when I went to collect them, I forgot my T-Card.

This Essay was one of the four big stressors of my life in late November, and given it was for a half-credit course it was slightly more pressing than the other three, two of which I'd gotten back already in the form of 72 apiece. I was getting kinda bummed to find myself falling into that pattern and wanted to prove that I could break away and get a better mark - or failing that, a much worse one. Somehow that might've been comforting.

It was a comparison between the protagonists of the Matrix and Dark City - admittedly not the most original two films to compare. After handing it in I knew immediately I hadn't shed some of my earlier problems, that my under-reliance on quotes and attributions would probably cost me, and some of my points might not make any sense or be well-supported anyway, also my rhetorical style tends to slip into the abstract when I try to make a really important-sounding point.

Well anyway. The final mark was a 79, a B+, which he described as very good considering the essays were by-and-large marked harshly (not surprising - everyone aced the midterm test and seemed fated to do so on the final.) He liked my opening paragraph, where I did listen to Testa's advice, sort of. A lot of the points my prof gave me on my first paper stuck in my craw and stupid and worthless, but I took this one for a test-run, even though I considered it among the worst offenders: that when I was writing about Back to the Future, I ought to have put it in the context of Spielberg's mid-80's sci-fi revival. I have absolutely no idea how mentioning that the producer of BTTF had directed Close Enounters 8 years prior and ET 3 years would've enhanced my point, but Testa saw fit to point it out. So I adapted that point into my Matrix/Dark City paper by pointing out some of the late-90's films that dealt with themes of identity and memory - among them Being John Malkovich, Memento and Fight Club - before diving into a close reading of the two films. Adam proved himself one of my favourite TA's ever (right behind Stew Cole) by saying that rather than docking me for the lightness on referencess, he praised my close-reading of the films. Wooo!

In the end, I probably could've benefitted some, maybe gotten a letter grade, an A- or so, by visiting the writing center, but there was no real time for that. I had two late papers and that one was done a half hour ahead of time. No time for frivolities. Getting a B+ this semester on my own is an accomplishment enough for me. Shows me I still have potential for growth.

I got back to Oakville and kicked around a while before working. I blooped a little bit here and there, blaming the messes on my lack of sleep. All the same, I was able to provide my usual level of banter with my co-workers.

At one point, a guy came to my register to buy a CD by a band I'd not heard of, called Locksley. He talked them up some, and convinced me to check out their stuff. I downlodaed some stuff; It's an extremely bright pastiche of British Invasion (early Beatles/Hollies) mixed with modern rock (OK Go/Jet/Weezer.) Check out All of the Time, All Over Again, and Don't Make Me Wait. You heard it here first, kids: Locksley. Highly recommended by Scotto.

Anyway, that was Wednesday. Thursday, I made arrangements to go into the city to pick up my T-Card from Adam, who had e-mailed me after I left the exam. So that was my day there. Eric went out that night to dinner in Burlington to meet this chick he's casting in a video. I just find that intriguing. Really, I always find my family's romantic endeavours intriguing, because we are so few and far between with them.

Julie told me recently that she didn't understand me. That it seemed like I should have no trouble at all getting a girlfriend in real life, that I should have no need for online dating. There's a great backstory as to why that came up, but it's not really my place to repeat it (Hi Julie!) I told her I was just in the nasty habit of making friends with girls, getting comfortable. That's the easy answer. The hard one is slightly more self-loathing: I suck, I'm a coward. I could say that about myself, lord knows I've got evidence, but I don't feel that way these days. True, my circumstances haven't changed in forever, but I do like my life. I like my job, I'm okay with school, and I like the people in my life.

Friday was snow. Hellstorm. That meant shoveling, which meant bickering with the bros. They sleep late (later even than I do,) which means they're very hesitant to get up and at 'em in the afternoon when mom was coming home early. somehow we got it sorted out. John did his part - he's an inscrutable good guy. Eric, true to form, resisted all the way.

I went to work after that. Unsurprisingly, it was a slow day... few people felt the desire to leave their homes. I was $20 short on my till, probably because Cooper had told this older couple the price of the Special Wedding Album edition of the Sex and the City movie (yack) was not $56.99, but $36.99, which was the price of the nearby Star Wars boxed set, which had a shelf-talker. So I rang it up, you see $56.99, and the ccouple gets confused, "But we were told it was cheaper!" And Cooper, hero he is, marked it down for them. And I suspect that's why I was about $20 off. But I didn't realize it until later. Maybe I'll tell Mandy - I felt kinda lame about it and it showed. I sometimes get angsty at the end of my shift because all I wanna do is go home.

Very few shifts these days. HMV is feeling the recession, I suppose, and so has to cut back on shifts, temps feel it first. Some people work not at all next week, which includes Christmas Eve and Boxing Day. Me, I'm only in on Tuesday Night. Life goes on. I just wish there'd be a job waiting for me when I get done.

Saturday, I traveled the town to run errands... last-minuteish Christmas shopping, picking up a prescription for Eric, renting more Lost DVD's, (fair to say, Eric's really digging it,) and coffee. not with Amanda - she's out of town - but just with compulsion. I was even at HMV, which prompted the usual "Are you here to work? You're always here!" for the usual co-workers, particularly the temp girl who also works at Shoppers, who's always there on Saturdays.

Late on Saturday night, as I was giving up hope of anything going on, I got an urgent MSN from Chris, saying "RISK." I sprung into action, thinking... finally! It had been so long since our last Risk, and so long before that. Earlier this year we were hanging out every weekend, but that was a lifetime ago, before people moved way off, leaving me to my own devices in this town. Anyhow. Pat, Chris, Cary and I got the game going, popped on HIMYM Season 3 disc 2, and let er roll. Ryan was apparently too tired to partake. His loss, his loss. I even called up CB, but he was passed out in preparation for an early start at work the next day. I sent him my best wishes and let him off the hook.

The game was a decent one, if slightly formulaic. I got Europe and Chris focussed on the Americas. Cary and Pat had an early war in Africa, ending with Cary on top but the continent in dispute the whole game. Pat worked the CB Australia angle, all he had left. Cary was gone first, lacking motivation or a real strategy, and preferring just to watch and enjoy the show. Chris then took Pat out, and offered me a chance to cede victory to him. I declined at first, then took stock of my options... very bleak. So I shook his hand and let him win. It was actually better than I usually do, since this time I had the opportunity to take Africa, which I don't usually. Fun times.

By the time we were done, Cary and I stuck behind to watch the last two eps of HIMYM. It was like that one time we missioned season 1 back in April. The last one finished around 4, and as I was getting ready to go, we observed the weather was far from friendly - angry gusts of snow peppered the velvet purple sky. So I crashed on the couch downstairs with It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia Season 3 disc 2 as my nightlight. I woke up after 11, with nobody but Rob around, and went on my merry way.

Got home, did some more snow-shoveling, contemplated life over coffee, then spent the rest of the day watching Lost Season 2 with Eric (three discs in one day, way to go.)

Like I said, life is good. I just can't stand up for falling down.

Whatever that means. Let's just keep on rockin'
-Scotto

(Let's not wait so long before next time, hey? Recapping all that stuff made my fingers hurt.)

Round 5: Shtick and spiel

So, it's been a busy few days. Between avoiding studying, avoiding the numerous personal duties I've set up for myself, working, and watching Lost season 4, I've had a fair amount on my plate.

I should get to those reviews, those nbW segs, that storywriting... still haven't submitted to the Hart House review. I'm so easily distracted. I oughtta devote some time to my Sci-Fi exam. I'd like to pass, but I feel so apathetic toward it. I'm just... mentally done with it. Contemplating dropping a class next semester. Not a yearlong class (goodness no, I've put in too much effort already) but a half-credit one so I can focus on the courses I'm already committed to. I've already consigned myself to the idea that I'll take some summer courses at some point.

A few interesting days at work. When I was working Friday night, I was asked to cover a shift for a fellow temp. I obliged, having been assured that rather than the initial shift of 3-midnight it was 6-midnight. Cool. So I went to work yesterday and kinda bummed around, doing whatever random work there needed doing until close, and then henceafter restocked. I said it was an interesting few days at work but not because of what I did.

I arrived a little early, to find that all the payroll stuff had already been taken care off, meaning I couldn't punch in early. Since I wouldn't be paid for the next ten minutes, I sat around with Mandy and Gus. Mandy was listening to Joe Purdy, her iPod plugged into the speakers back there, and his playing reminded me of something. So I says to her, "Wanna hear something you've never heard before?" And she says yes, so I plugged mine in and set it to Mr. Joe Chammas, specifically Broken Heart Complex. She asked who he was, surmising correctly that he was a friend of mine. She got this dreamy look in her eyes during the first few bars and as he started singing, she just said, "Aw, can you give him a hug for me please?" Well, I won't do that, necessarily, but I will pass on that message via this blog. So there you are, Joey: an impartial listener who doesn't know you who likes your work. I went about my business and let her play through. Her final remarks were that she liked it, Mandy in particular, by some strange coincidence, and her only critical remark was that Last Goodbye was too upbeat. I think that's a valid assessment, but it offers a relief in pace because his songs do tend to be on the downtempo side and too many of those would be a slog. In particular, she also praised his guitar playing, and his voice for not being "cookie cutter."

After hours, I plugged my iPod back in and left it running while I went to restock, leaving no clue as to what I'd done - made a playlist of stuff not readily available at HMV, primarily the Coral, as well as the Beta Band, Solids, Electric Six, and Joe. Inquiring what she was listening to during the Coral, I told Mandy about them, and she nodded appreciatively, saying she liked it, and was surprised about their obscurity, because she's "heard of everything." She praised these contents of my iPod. I like to consider myself a connoisseur.

We have a fair bit in common, including an appreciation for Lost. When I mentioned I had just finished watching season 4, her eyes lit up, as she peppered me with her theories. We talked later about comics (or as she insistently called them, "graphic novels." She attempted to explain the distinction, when I interrupted her to say she didn't need to speak to me like that) and I told her a bit about Y: The Last Man. She's quite a character - although as it is generally acknowledged, utterly insane. Fun times.

So today I tried to relax while I could, do some errands and other stuff... had to decorate the Christmas Tree, which is one of those things, like Jack O'Lanterns, I'm expected to do (although to be fair, all three of us took part.) The result was kinda ghastly and I'm pretty glad we are having Christmas in Toronto.

I'm feeling a little ill, but hopefully will be able to balance rest with studying and my other stuff this week. Hurm.

Oh well. I still feel pretty good about life. For a few weeks, I had a cut on my lip that kept re-opening when I'd eat a burger or a sandwich or something. When we were having coffee on Saturday (as always) Amanda suggested I find some kind of lip balm. I went to Shoppers and got a fairly gender-neutral polysporin brand and it's worked considerably well.

So keep on rockin'
-Scott

Round 4: But wait, there's less!

I'm not sure if I've ever had a higher opinion of myself than I do these days - at least, of my life in general. I tend to alternate between self-obsessed and self-loathing, often at the same time. But right now, I just... like me.

For instance, when I'm being funny or entertaining at work or school or with friends, I don't feel like I'm faking myself, like I'm putting it on. Sure, I seem like an awesome guy, but in the olden days I was wracked with insecurity about stuff like that. Even as recently as this summer and very likely in the distant future I will be again. But for now, I'm basking in it.

What can I say? Life is good and it makes me feel good, in a real wholesome way.

I've never put much stock in my physical appearance. I never got much feedback on it, for better or worse, in high school... I looked like the shy, geeky, mopey kid I was. Now, I look roughly the same, but I think I carry it better, and dropped the mopeyness, and upgraded the shyness to a more endearingly cool flavour. Maybe. Anyway, that's how I've been seeing myself lately, which explains my mood. Let me elaborate on how I came to this line of thinking, though.

A few weeks ago, during one of my earlier shifts at HMV, I was kinda spaced out between customers and Josh nudges me and says "Did you see that girl who was just in here?" I told him no, and he explained that it was a girl from our high school. Back in those days, she was kinda smallish and not all that striking in her appearance... but apparently in the intervening years she had blossomed into a gorgeous young woman. I haven't seen for myself. Leads me to wonder.

Anyway, I was beaming about life earlier today when I met up with Joe. I randomly Facebooked him earlier today to see if he had time to hang out while he was still in the vicinity of Sheridan. He texted me this morning that he was finished his morning exam around 10, when I was lying in bed listening to the radio and pretending I was still asleep. By 11 I was in front of the newsroom. Joe and I went to meet up with Mary Lynn. She filled us in on the recent happenings with the PJour program.

We were all worried, when we graduated, that the place would fall apart. Despite it being in Mary Lynn, and Nathan's very capable hands, (with others like Denni providing good support) there were some very oppositional factors, including the ongoing feud with the student union and the administration. That said, the news was mostly good, and there had been many improvements to the program since we left, that Joe and I heard approvingly. Still though, I'm glad I went when I did, for the people I'd met and for learning under Roy.

So yeah, I caught up with Mary Lynn and later Nathan, and then just sat a while and shot the shit with Joe. I had no idea how long I'd end up sitting there but as usual we got into some conversation about various things. Good times.

As I made my way out, I went over to Blockbuster and ended up renting Disc 1 of Lost Season 4. The temptation was too great to resist, and I was quite satisfied with the episodes I got (now I have to go ahead and rent the next few.)

I decided abruptly that I wanted to go back to Sheridan to buy some school supplies (pencils and a new sharpener, as referenced in yesterday's entry.) While I was on my way there, I was stopped by some group asking for donations. They were offering photos with "Sexy Mrs. Claus." I gave her a look... quite fetching. I've never turned down an opportunity to have a picture taken with a random pretty girl (Facebook testifies to this) so I gave them the dollar they were asking for.

Anyway, I spent the remainder of the day watching the Lost DVD and lounging around. It was a continuation of the theme of the week, which is relaxation. I should've done more writing and stuff... all that stuff I keep promising myself to do and yet not getting around to.

Er... maybe tomorrow?

Heh, who knows. All I know is right, now... it's good times. And I'm gonna savour them as long as they're around.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

Round 3: This place was different before it had you

I think I'm probably too relaxed these days for blogging. It's insane. I feel like I'm back on summer vacation, except it's the early part where I feel good unwinding, not the late part where I feel bored and a little annoyed that I lost that job.

Ahem.

Take today for example. I slept until 11 or so, got up, went out for coffee and picked up a lunch. It was a gray day, with a light mist of rain spritzing the air. I spent all day doing nothing in particular around the house, went to dad's for dinner, and came back.

I'm not gonna lie. I don't feel like I'm in the right headspace. There's something half a step off with my usual sharpness. Basically, trying to form complete sentences is making me feel like an arse.

This is a hell of a conundrum. When I was in school, my brain was slightly sharper, but I had no time to worry about anything but school. Now I'm free - minus one exam I'm not too concerned about - but my brain just feels lazy. I've got tomorrow to take action. I've got reviews to write and a story or two to work on... the usual stuff buzzing around my head.

Also, I got back to drawing Regular Guy today... I was delaying it because I lost my favourite pencil sharpener. It sounds fussy but I was getting really good results with that bad boy, and frankly, I'm not pleased with what I've done lately. I'm not a very good artist and I need all the help I can get.

For such a relaxing time, this has been kind of a downer post... I haven't been having too many interesting thoughts over the past couple days.

Ugh, this post is a write-off. Keep on rockin'
-Scott

Round 2: My colloquialisms and me

So 'kay.

It's been a long day, but I'm glad to say not a hard or unpleasant one. Even if it's only temporary I have to say how much I like my job. Yes, for one, I get to sell CD's and DVD's, but mostly it's that I get to hang out with generally a cool group of people all day. And when I say all day, I mean that - I worked from 10:30 until 7. But I didn't really feel it until I got home.

The early part of the day was busywork, restocking and customer service. The later part was kidding around and doing shtick. And also some actual work. But six months from now when I re-read this (it's been known to happen) it won't be the guy who I helped find Everybody Loves Raymond Season 8 I'll want to remember.

So yeah, I'm a bit worn out and will probably go to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour despite the fact that I a officially off school. It seemed to take a while, finally getting away from it... and my one exam is on the 17th yet - but it's finally done and here I go. I've got things to do now - things I want to do, and now have time to.

I got the Shakespeare paper back. I didn't know what to expect and wasn't exactly bummed about the mark, but... 73 again. I'm beginning to find that these days I embody that number. All my papers have been in the low-to-mid 70's this semester, and while that's probably quite appropriate given the level of devotion I've given my studies, I can't help but feel like I'm hitting a wall. Yes, it's possible for me to better myself... but how much? Am I giving my all? (I don't think so, but what if my all isn't all that much more? There I go thinking in circles.)

I didn't pore over the comments yet - I tend to put that off until I need to think about the next paper, but I did skim them. What I caught was that I was occasionally writing like it was a "debate piece" (amusing because I've never liked debate, never did it, and don't think I'd be good at it,) but also because I tend to slip into colloquialisms, which seems mutually exclusive to the first point. Whatever. My film history TA mentioned that I kept using a bunch of contractions by the end of my paper there. Bummer. I'm such a fucking 73 sometimes.

As Claire described to me the distinction between North American and English peanut butter (ours being far superior to hers, apparently,) we said goodbye for the break. I headed down to Canadian lit for the second half of my semester-end test.

Like all English tests it concerned excerpt citing and analysis. We were given three passages on each half of the test, and had to place two of each within the context of the work. At least one of the four passages had to be poetry - there was one poem on the first day and two on the second, so if you chose the poem on the first day you inevitably had to write about two poems. But anyway, I didn't.

I'll admit to being way off schedule in that class. I never finished As For Me And My House, am only halfway through the Diviners, skipped all the poetry (until giving it a glimpse the night before - this is what happens when you don't buy the required text) and never even read any of Barometer Rising. Well, I thought to myself - let's play the odds. I brushed up on the poetry, which was necessary, and counted that one of the other excerpts would either be on Diviners or As For Me And My House. Well like I said, two of them were poetry - one of which I had totally forgotten about and couldn't identify - and the other was Barometer Rising.

you're probably thinking - boy, ole Scotto looks stupid. But actually in this context I think I look smarter, for the following reason. I was actually paying attention to the lectures of Barometer Rising, and despite not reading a single page of the text managed to retain a great deal of remembrance for its motifs and themes. On that note, maybe I didn't write the greatest analysis of the passage ever, but I probably did write one of the best for someone who didn't read the book. Sure, this will not be factored into my mark, but it does factor into my personal pride. And the poem was The Lonely Land by AJM Smith, one of the few poems I managed to absorb, and actually, I really liked it and I think I had some good points.

The Scotto Williams way - find the most efficient way to avoid actually having to learn, but don't cheat yourself. Work smarter, not harder.

Anyway, that's all done with and I was free to enjoy my weekend. Of course, no-one was around and I had nothing to do, so it was all weekend to look forward to work. I spent last night lounging around in my dude robe. It was so warm and toasty.

Saturday, Amanda and I hung out as usual. We got into this conversation about the nature of siblings. Apparently someone (a friend of her sister's) called her the "black sheep" of the family, and she was trying to determine by what means that may or may not be true. I don't know who would be the black sheep of my family. As Obi-Wan says, it's all a matter of perspective. Actually that's a misstatement - I have a decent idea who it is. But I wouldn't wanna say it.

But anyway, that's how the weekend went. when I got home, the cousins and aunts were over, the kids demanding I play. In my stead at dinner was John, who had apparently joined the family. John, if I've not mentioned, is the current occupant of the room upstairs. I think he's a genuinely cool guy, and I'm not saying that as a concession I tell myself to deal, as it often is. Anyway, he met the family and had dinner with them, something no boarder has done in a long while.

Anyway. That's this entry for you. Just one of those nights where I just unload. I was talking to Julie last night, and finally told her about this place. So hi Julie!

Anyway. What use is a calendar if you have no idea what day it is to begin with?

Keep on rockin'
-Scott

Round 1: All my problems smell like you

It's been.... an eventful week. Trying to reconcile the last of the things I've gotta do with my desire to break already. And the world is, like, flippin out all around me. I need some escapism. I need SWP.

I was working Monday night. Whereas the previous Thursday had been somewhat transcendent... it was just a lot of fun - this instance was pretty dry. It has a lot to do with the people I end up working with. The girl, the serious one with the glasses and the long-sleeve shirt seemed to take no regard to me one way or the other, never introduced herself (though to be fair, I never did either. I've actually worked with her before a few weeks ago, too.) The other guy was just... some dude. I did some riffing and he kinda no-sold it, and that's all I've got.

At the beginning of the shift, I ran into two of my co-workers, who apparently had been having a discussion about me (not one of those "talk behind your back" deals, just a "speak of the devil" type-thing.) They asked whether I was too nice to make fun of this other co-worker of ours. I paused for a moment and asked... "...to his face?" Laughs. The truth is, I'd known that guy in grade school and everybody made fun of him. And a lot of the personality traits that made him a target are still there. But while I was really on top of that stuff in grade 6, I got to the point in high school where I felt bad for picking easy targets. By grade 8 I (famously) started targeting people who really seemed to have it coming, and by midway through high school I was exclusively mocking people who thought they were better than me. That's not to say I won't rib the guy now, but times change, and I'm probably a lot less eager to cut him up that way.

At least, that's what I prefer to think.

I mean, I've made fun of people who didn't deserve it, mostly in years past, and then felt bad after. Then I took it as a lesson not to do again.

Anyway, that day was pretty tedious. We were watching the Faux Fire (actually Faux Fire 2) and that was the source of the riffing I was doing. Also I saw a guy who only had thumb-pinky on his left hand. Trippy. I was careful not to stare, although he probably gets that a lot.

Anyway. Tuesday. We watched an Ozu film in History, "I was Born But..." which was interesting given that the Japanese silent film industry depended on live narrators (Benshi performers) to do dialogue, so it was a bit more like a sound film. Also we got our papers back. I didn't do great but all things considered (not much faith in the paper anyway, marks lost for lateness) I think my mark was respectable. I just couldn't seem to claw my way out of this first semester slump.

Anyway. Between classes, I head to the lounge of the Innis first floor and I see this dude I've run into a few times around class. I don't know him that well but he sees me and points out my haircut (by now a few weeks old but anyway.) We get to talking, he asks what I do, I ask him what he does... it wasn't all that interesting of a conversation, but it was nice to talk with someone I'd never sat down and talked with before. There are certain people in my film classes that kinda act like dicks to me for no reason, possibly because they are dicks and don't mean anything by it. I don't take it personally either, I think we'd maybe get along if they weren't curt and aloof, but that's them. But by now I've got this rather unfortunate opinion of them that I don't usually like to have of people.

The next screening that day was Pulse, nominally a J-Horror film with sci-fi aspects. Coming out of it, my friend Chelsea and I agreed it was really bad, not very enjoyable at all. It was good for illustrating the points for the lecture, but this all leads to a point that became clear to me over the course of the semester and was hammered home on Wednesday. I was joking around about Pulse and I said out loud to the TA, "I'm gonna blow your mind. It starts in a garden, ends on a boat... it's a Biblical narrative. Eden to Noah." I meant it as a joke and I think he heard it as such but he said that if I could continue putting together slapdash theses like that I would go very far in academia, not even kidding. I shuddered. My thinking, after going over all these readings and everything, seeing how much bullshit is slung in the name of film study, is that Academic Film Study is the art of taking something meant purely for enjoyment and draining it of every ounce of enjoyability. Films are suddenly no longer intended to be action or comedy, but must be considered in terms of Freud and Baudrillard and others. Anything that cannot be perceived in this way is not valued and therefore cast off. I'm not saying there's no room for academic film study, but I'm saying the volume of bullshit flying around is sometimes staggering and to me, very disheartening. It's partly why I dropped Cinema Studies as a major, and just cling to it as a minor.

In the face of that mini-rant, the remainder of the day seems a bit minor. I wish I'd gotten to this sooner so I could recall the weather fluctuations and my moods changes. All I can really think of is how stressed out the news is making me. There was that whole coalition government notion that got everyone all pissy. Me, I don't even care. Unflinching, suffused with apathy. One shitty government, another, I just can't care. But people got really worked up. I used to care - years ago, before I was actually able to vote and even for a while after. Damn did I get cynical.

I got my AmLit test back. I felt like I did okay if not great on it, and yet my mark read "63 - good work." I did not think I got a 63, and I did not think it was particularly good work, so I felt bad. Then I double-checked and found out the TA had added up my mark wrong, dropping about 10 marks from the total. What a relief. Now I just gotta figure out how to improve that mark.

Today I ran my errands, the usual Thursday stuff... it's getting colder. I was riding the train home yesterday and I found myself enjoying the CanLit book I had to read, by Margaret Laurence - which is good since I was supposed to finish it a week or so ago. Hrm.

Yeah, really on to pof things. More later, I hope. Keep on rockin'
-Scott