104: Stay in prison till a crime is committed

It was a pretty interesting weekend.

Friday night was Risk. It was me, Chris Ferg, Pat and RyLai, and beforehand, Pat told a story about an encounter with some goons that was quite shocking. Chilling, really. Made me wonder what I could do to preserve my own safety (like, where do they sell mace?) We watched Pulp Fiction, which was actually my first time watching it, which is shocking in a way, but there's a good reason.

Back when Eric was getting into filmmaking, he was really into Tarantino, and Pulp Fiction was one of his favourite movies. Back in those days he was kinda withdrawn and would generally watch movies by himself in his room. So by the time we got to the place where most of our movie watching was done together, he was kinda over Pulp Fiction, and I never got around to watching it on my own. Besides which, by that point I'd seen so many parodies and various forms of deconstruction I felt I was already plenty familiar with it. And to some degree, that was true.

But the fact is, when we watched it, I was extremely impressed. It wasn't one of those cases where I was like "Oh yeah, this would've been really impressive 15 years ago," it really seemed quite fresh to me, even after all this time and all its influence. Maybe it was just Samuel L. Jackson.

The game itself was unusual in that shit got started basically immediately and I ended up taking the fall in a fairly dramatic showdown with Ryan that could've ended only with him destroying me, or leaving me to be destroyed by someone else. It was exciting.

Saturday, after hanging out with Amanda, I stopped by the garden center to pick up a gift for mother's day, some hanging flowers for outside. It seemed like a good idea since it's reasonably-priced, practical, and basically what she outright asked for. So there I was looking over the flowers at the garden center, and finding it was a bad idea at that time and place for two reasons:

One, there'd been a pretty nasty thunderstorm earlier that morning, and so the selection was kinda bruised. And two, I had to carry that bitch home. Surely, if I'd given a bit more thought I'd realize they had the same products at the White Store and that's much closer to my house, but... nope! Luckily, she ended up liking the ones I picked out, so, yay.

Eric came home, having been suddenly offered a lift from his housemate. After solving the mystery of what to do for Mother's Day Dinner (mom had her heart set on the Mandarin but they weren't taking orders) we got Swiss Chalet, then Eric and I spent the night hanging out watching Lost season 3, which I'd borrowed from Chris Ferg. Then we did some walking and had some good talks about writing and school and life and shit. Oftentimes when we are only around each other for a short period we get along famously, but we both know by now we can't be around each other longer than maybe a week or two.

Also he stayed longer than he'd intended, with his ride not arriving until after 11 PM this evening.

I guess no real deep thoughts tonight. Tomorrow I start back at school. I don't even exactly know what one of my courses is, but I know it's English-themed. I got one of my final marks, a B in Canadian Lit. Pretty solid, pretty expected and frankly probably on the higher end of the integer for this year. Sigh. Well, thus begins the great "mellowing out" scheme, where by letting my schedule chill at only 3-4 courses, I can focus a little better and have less shit going on at once.

I feel like I'm ready to change my attitudes about certain things. Nothing major, nothing shocking, nothing life-changing... I can't even really say what I'm getting at here. It has to do with writing, and how unsatisfied I'd been with how I've used, say, poetry as a medium. If I get back to writing it (and I think a few people want to see me do so,) it'll be enhancing certain tendencies I'd already had, but maybe suppressed in the name of being a "serious" writer. I don't want to write seriously right now, and it was never really my style.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott