4:00 AM: A cat's soft footprints in the snow

I think I have a theory as to how my posting rate has dropped over the past year... Guitar Hero. Here I am, ready to do a nice little entry, when I think "You know what? I'll go play Santeria by Sublime on Guitar Hero World Tour." Well, that turns into six songs and by the time I'm done, my fingers and wrists are fairly sore and not looking forward to recapping the past few days... which is a shame since they were a kinda interesting couple days. Interesting, in the sense that SWP ever is interesting. I mean hey, you're reading.

Something else I have a theory about is that my new pajamas are superhumanly comfortable. I got these new pajama pants at Christmas - didn't need 'em, was comfortable in my heavy sweats, but I'm not here to turn away free sleepwear. Anyway, my bedroom has recently shown the ability to bottle heat like nobody's business (whereas the basement tends to lose it like it's going out of style - oh crazy similes.) So I switched to the new guys and have found them so ridiculous not just because I am capable of getting very comfortable, but because I find myself having more vivid warm dreams in them. Maybe it's the old symptom of not doing enough writing (there is that) but I dunno. I'm thinking it's all pants. And oh yes, it only gets better from here, kids.

After a rather uninteresting day at school I came home and loafted a while. Eric was getting his stuff together. We'd had this really tense/weird/somewhat cathartic moment the previous day where we just admitted we couldn't live together anymore ever again. It was so weird. I guess all those things that annoy us about each other, the stuff we'd gotten used to over the decades, we got to used to being without over the past couple months. I can't say what's at the root of it all, it's just a clash of personality I guess. He can be a very tricky person to get along with in close quarters, and I ain't perfect myself.

So we went to dad's for dinner. In the meantime I bought a Super 7 ticket (Eric put in for half) which ultimately didn't win. Them's the breaks. After, we watched The Fifth Element on my dad's new TV. It's one of the three movies my dad bought on his initial Blu-Ray jag, the others being Iron Man and the 1960's classic Steve McQueen flick Bullitt. Fifth Element is actually quite a good movie, with some sequences far beyond the scifi-action-adventure flicks of today. I noted that if it'd been made ten years later it would've had way better effects and a way crappier script. I think the world is better off the way it is.

So after the movie we left. I was irked not a noticeable degree - I wasn't making a deal out of it but I was certainly huffy. This is because I was intending to go see Joe, who was set to go on at 8:30, and it was rapidly approaching 8, and we had to load up Eric's stuff in the car. After all the commotion, we pulled up to the ESC at about 8:25, which was good enough. As is often the case when I manage to come out to the ESC, there wasn't really anybody there... no JB, not even Mansoor. There was a group of people, however, huddled on the couch off to the side. Viki's friends, I suppose, as well as the guy who introduced them (which is an epic tale of romance and music in and of itself.)

So Joe played, opening with an Incubus cover, going through some more recent originals, Stargazing, and lastly, calling Viki onstage for Lucky. It's hard to continue concocting praise, I suppose, because he's always very good and I don't wanna make it routine... I told him the new ones were effective and sounded good, especially the cover and Every Message Sent. It's been a year of performing at ESC and he's polished himself up so well since then. I guess the next step is to start performing longer sets more regularly, but of course he needs a place to do that. I told him - and he already knew from SWP - about the co-worker I introduced to his music, and he accurately recalled some of the commentary on that. He joined me on the couch where I'd previously been solo feeling like a leper (although why I should've is no reason - I didn't know most of those other people, and Viki knew them better than she knows me. But there were six people on one couch with a couple others gathered around, and me alone on mine. So such is life.)

Viki went on, also did a great set. She's also come a ways since the first time I saw her, and that was only back in... July? Not that she was all that rough then, but she's smoothed the edges. I think the only thing her repertoire lacks is something unexpected. That first show, one of the first things I heard her play was a cover of Paint It Black, which was delightfully incongruous for her voice, and yet it was an effective song choice. I'd like to see... if not that exact song, at least one song in her set devoted to changing the pace in that way. Her originals are quite strong, and there's nothing wrong with any of her cover choices, but this is my meager suggestion on how it could be improved. Mind you, I've only seen her so many times, and one of those was the Beatles show, where she had some very interesting choices (more on this later.)

So she wraps up and everyone's all "hey how's it going, great set" to them, and I smile and nod as a flurry of unfamiliar faces encroaches. You know me and strangers - as soon as I bypass the awkward phase I'm fine. And as the next band is setting up Joe intones to me, "Hey, we're going somewhere, wanna tag along?" And I go, "If I can catch a ride with someone, absolutely." Because hell, it was maybe 9:30 by this point, no sense in going home if I needn't. So I go along and there are enough drivers that people can be like "Who needs a ride?" at which point my hand goes up. "I'm Scott by the way." Next step, of course, was deciding where to go.

We wound up at this place called Symposium, a nice all-purpose restaurant in the midst of Meadowvale. Joe, Viki and I jammed into this girl's car, along with this other girl, who was her friend. In three other cars, only the drivers. No idea what that was about.

So, eight of us at this restaurant, the waiter coming onto all of us for tips. I ordered a Stella, and Joe changed his order to match this. A bonding moment, remarked upon by the eager-to-converse waiter. I'm always suspicious of service people when they get overly friendly. It's nice, but I sense the deeper meaning. It's part of the reason why I'm not into strip clubs (not that I wouldn't enjoy myself, just that I avoid for the sake of cheapness.) Anyway, Joe and I did get on like usual, talking primarily about music, which is a great way to light a conversational fire when you get the right people around. We discussed and debated such matters as Coldplay, U2, the Killers, Radiohead, Sublime, No Doubt, my theory of favourite bands, singer-songwriters with the first initial J, smooth jazz, and the Beatles. As I told RyLai a few months back, I'm not even sure "I hate the Beatles" registers as a legitimate sentence in the English language. It's like saying "Pie cabinet spinach." Those are all words, but that doesn't make it a sentence. Anyway. As it turned out, Viki isn't too keen on the Beatles, which is a shame as I mentioned she did quite well on Beatles night, and I would personally love to hear her do a rendition of Hey Jude.

And if you can listen to that song and feel nothing, you're a goddamned zombie as far as I'm concerned.

I was a conversational house of fire, although the night tended to slow down a bit when I had to actually explain about myself. Inevitably when meeting people, or when catching up with friends at parties, you end up talking about what you study and why you're into it... and then I have to explain how I'm a commuter and the other bullshit minutiae of my life that don't seem to add up.

Eventually, the night ended. One of the guys I hadn't spoken much to shook my hand and apologized for something I wasn't sure he was talking about (having to do with conversations, perhaps interrupting, which I hadn't noticed much of.) I was left with a to-go plate of Bruschetta because I was feeling hungry, ordered some, and then realized that after all these years I still don't dig eating in restaurants. Me and my quirks.

One of the girls - not the one into whose car we all jammed - gave me a lift to Clarkson station, near her house. More school talk. I'd have indulged her further on that, but I was kinda tired, and it was a surprisingly lengthy trip, so a lot of it was quiet. We got to the station, I thanked her and got on my way. A guy was waiting on the platform. For conversation's sake, I asked, "Do you know when the train is coming?" He answered, "Soon, I hope!" It was about midnight. I knew it wasn't that soon - the train would only have left Union at 11:43. I went and found a posting that listed it as arriving at 12:12. All righty.

So the train pulled in, and it is far more packed than a midnight train to Oakville ought to be, even for Friday night. People of all ages - 20somethings, teens, parents with kids... then I noticed the light-up devil horns and realized this was the audience from the AC/DC concert. Groovy.

I haven't got much to say about today. The weather was lousy and I was inside watching tv for most of it, or playing video games. Clearly I am living up to my cosmic potential. I've got some Word documents open and had intended to make some headway into them, but I think I'll just go dream them up and hope that tomorrow brings motivation.

Well, that's no way to go about it.

Tomorrow, I know what I'm going to write about, but I'm too tired to bring it up now. It's taken many hours to finish this entry. I'm easily distracted. Goodnight and keep on rockin'
-Scott