Y: Another and another and

When I was like 11, around the Christmas of 1998, I was big into the movie Footloose. It was one of the few movies I personally owned on VHS, along with The Breakfast Club, South Park: BLU and Wayne's World 2. To this day I'm not certain whether this means I was stupid for liking a stupid movie about a town where dancing is illegal, or where I was awesome for having a keenly-developed sense of irony.

I say this not out of a desire to share it with the world or as a lead-in to some epic anecdote that in some way relates to Footloose. I say it out of a need to say something. I can't keep bottling my shit up, even my meaningless shit, and if I don't express something, anything, I'm going to keep falling apart inside, which sounds so ridiculously emo it hurts. It's because I'm experiencing a motivational dryspell and if I start throwing random shit out there, it'll loosen me up to let the good stuff flow.

A few weekends ago was my cousin's birthday. One of the little trinkets we got him to go along with DS games and Beyblades was a little 2x2 Rubik's cube. Looking to show off, I attempted to disassemble it and put it back together like I did my own (traditional 3x3 cube.) The problem is, obviously a 2x2 is put together differently, with little wedges that pop out in you pull it apart, and can't be smushed back into place easily. So I effectively broke his new toy. Before he'd even touched it.

He didn't take much notice, mind you: he'd just gotten New Super Mario and Lego Harry Potter for the DS. I still felt like a heel, despite my aunts' assurances it was no big deal. I trekked out to Toys R Us the next day to replace the cube, but it is still sitting on my counter because mom didn't manage to get it to him before they went on vacation. They're on vacation with my grandma, who left her dog here to drive us nuts. In her defense, it isn't Xena that's driving us insane, but Bella, who can't stand evidence of the existence of any other dogs anywhere ever. She's the ultimate solipsist. I think. I'm not sure of the exact dictionary definition of that word. But yeah. Canine Solipsist.

So she goes on long barking jags whenever Xena's around. They have frequent standoffs on the stairs -- not easy because Xena, getting up there in years, can't handled the stairs so well anymore. A few days ago she just fell right down and hurt her leg, and I felt bad, having stood by and watched the whole thing.

Of late I cherish those rare moments the rest of the world isn't all up in my shit.

Rare, rare moments.

My life is inexplicable. I isolate myself and feel miserable. Then the world presents me a situation where I can't get that privacy and it drives me insane. No matter the situation, balance eludes me. But that's a contradiction I think everyone faces.

Sometimes I think of my life as a long-running TV series with occasional cast changes. I'm losing a lot of co-workers in the near future. Thursday night I met a new one, a transfer from Toronto Superstore. We were all speculating on what she might be like. She turned out rather cool, very upbeat, very capable, aside from having to enlighten her on certain procedural differences, as she's now dealing with a whole store rather than just a single section of expertise.

So yeah, when I met her I thought about how the audience of my work-com might react to her replacing Chantelle. Whether Matt will get a replacement I don't know. Taylor's also going to Dorval, so that means I'll soon be the only non-manager who's been at the store since before the summer. Hurm. And when I hung out with Ryan last night, he was on me again about why I don't transfer out and go to Toronto.

Really, no good reason.

Last night, RyLai, Chris and I got together for our first Risk in months. CB was supposed to come by for it, but he was otherwise engaged (baseball game.) We ended up having a rather intense 3-man game that didn't really end, while we watched the 4th season of the Simpsons on DVD. I haven't actually sat down at watched any classic Simpsons in years, because after the 1000th time you don't feel the need, but you know, I still love that show.

At my worst moments, lately, I feel like I'm 17 again. But things are getting better. There's just no telling, however, what's over that hill.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto