Q: Here when you need it.

I had a feeling yesterday was going to be a good day. I had absolutely no rationale for this. The previous couple days had been a real drag. Well, every day is a real drag. Hardly a day of school goes by that I don't mope all around Toronto, angsting quietly to myself about how shitty everything is and will always be, and getting worse.

This reached its nadir on Tuesday, a day of 8 hours of consecutive classes. I make it sound worse than it is, mind you, by neglecting to mention that three of those hours is a screening, and that at least in this case, it didn't go the full period.

Still, it is damn hard to get started on Tuesdays. The first three hours are the often-impenetrable American Studies. The last two hours are the pretty weighty Anthropology. It was shitting rain pretty much all day. I realized how badly in need of replacement my backpack is when I had to contend with damp notes for the rest of the day and the next day. I mean shit. I got this backpack when I started at U of T and part of me was very eager that it should be there when I finish. It isn't so bad, so long as it never ever rains.

So to someone as prone to self-immolating internalized drama as I am, Tuesdays are anathema and if I don't find some kind of coping mechanism soon (alcohol, eg. Or skipping,) I might die on a Tuesday.

But Wednesday, ah, oh Wednesday, for whatever reason, I had a good feeling. Maybe because the clouds had dispersed. Maybe because of a good night's sleep. Maybe because of my new friend.

I didn't tell this story, and for that, I apologize. Last Wednesday, during my second Anthropology tutorial, I took a seat innocently in the midst of the third row, second from the back. As the seats all filled up, one of the last spaces was next to me on my left. So on that side, an empty seat, on the other, my backpack, and next to that, a girl. Suddenly, a figure appears on the left and mutters, "Can I sit here bro?" Sure, bro. Whatever.

It wasn't long into the tutorial that I learned that I was sitting next to a Goddamn scientific genius. I call him a scientific genius because even though he's in a second-year Anthropology class, he saw fit to bicker and debate with the TA (whilst calling her "professor" the way a second-grader might refer to "Teacher") over the particularities of the theory of Evolution, specifically that it was "a fact" (bit of a misunderstanding over the meaning of "theory") and that we were genetically wired to believe in God, and Richard Dawkins told him so.

See, this is why I hate people. You can have the right idea but still be an idiot about it. You can get the facts straight and still fuck it all up. You can prepare your arguments but still have no idea what the fuck you are talking about. This young gentleman was belligerently using every fallacy to fight his instructor on points she not only understood better than him, but the broad strokes of which they pretty much agreed. He was just so obnoxious about it that he wasn't going to take "Yes" for an answer. I'm going to have to start recording this shit. The religion discussion in particular deserves mention because of how absurdly far off topic it spiraled. You get the point.

So this whole thing go out of hand, and this guy who is just spouting all this aggravating nonsense to the class is sitting next to me, and I'm a little embarrassed, so I have to turn my head to the girl to my right and wince, and she responds in kind. After class, we introduce ourselves to each other, share a comment or two, and basically decide that we're going to be suffering together for the rest of the year while this guy shoots from the hip, the real deal with evolution.

So yeah, when I meet a girl, I guess the implication is "I met a girl." After all, lord knows I approach many a meeting that way. She came and sat next to me in the lecture this week (actually a video about Darwin.) She worked the phrase "my boyfriend" into the conversation, which was nice of her. The way I see it, the girl has about halfway-through the second meeting to get that tidbit out there, or it's just not fair.

I remember when I met Vasa, for instance, it took a lot of effort to get her to come out with it. I had already added her on Facebook (on the basis that if I hadn't, we probably wouldn't have seen each other ever again, which was not that unlikely) and saw her status. I have what could charitably be described as a mental block against pursuing attached females... which is generally considered a good thing, so I'm gonna keep with it.

I felt refreshed when I woke up Wednesday, the hard part of my week over with. A couple tutorials and a relatively relaxing English lecture (not that it's light material, sure, but it's mostly just sitting there and being talked-at about books, with occasional discussion.) This was borne out through the Anthro tutorial, with predictable results, and I had resolved mainly to sit back and passively enjoy. I then had a three hour break between classes. I was actually contacted by Vasa, with a text letting me know she had seen my doppelganger. This is an inordinately frequent occurrence, not just with Vasa, but other people too. It's a problem for me, not just because it damages my identity, but because I tend to think of anyone who looks like me as a face-stealing asshole.

We ended up hanging out for a good chunk of afternoon, catching up on life in a way we hadn't been able to since she got back from Serbia. Yes, we did hang out at FanExpo, but that was hardly a "So, tell me all about your summer" situation.

She caught me up on some of the utterly fascinating (and I'm not being sarcastic here) sometimes downright shocking and rather lewd details of her life. Not to gossip, it's really none of my business. But that doesn't stop me from being riveted.

I went to visit the Dorval location today. And by "visit," I mean "work an 8 hour shift." It was nice, since Andrea was the other one there, and I haven't worked with her in a while now. It's very quiet there, and not hard to see why that store is closing up. The day mainly consisted of various CDs being played, while the two of us scurried around doing price changes, trading acerbic barbs about the lack of business, and occasionally selling things.

I'll probably be doing that again in the next month, while the store's still open. It'll definitely give me an appreciation for the pace at Oakville Place, where there's always shit going on and no time to get bored. Not that I'm gonna go around bitching about it. Both ways have their advantages and drawbacks. The contrast is just so strong. Seeing Alan arrive at the end of the day, it's clear how much more he enjoys that environment.

I don't know how I'm going to find time for my own shit in the near future. I shouldn't live like I do. This is the main thesis of my self-loathing freakout thoughts that occur from Monday through Tuesday. The rest of the time I think I'll be okay.

I think. Well, we'll see. It was good to do a post that was about something other than me freaking out about life. Good change of pace. There's hope where you least expect it.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto