4: A word that hits like a hammer / A poison memory

Twist my arm, why don't you. I've been meaning to get back on here pretty much all month but things keep getting in the way. That feels like the essence of the story. I always feel like there will be time, and I don't want to say that there isn't, but when it comes there are other things that take precedence. I haven't even done that much creative writing lately although the X-Men blog is thriving. I worry that, having expanded to more posts per month it really isn't quite as easy of an assignment as it once seemed to be. I'm writing this on the train ride home, seemingly the only time I can get clarity.

We are slowly plodding through the frigid, bleak days of January into February. One week this month -- and fuck me if I remember whether it was last week or the week before -- we were trapped in the dreaded polar vortex with temperatures in the feels-like minus-twenties. Even now, with relatively normal temps of -7 to -5, it remains dicey whether we can take Hank out for walks early in the morning or late at night. And he's usually pretty okay about that but today while I was at work he started o get fired up and Mel had to walk him and she already wasn't feeling good. Not that I could have known today would be any different than it had been but it did make me wish I had bit the bullet and walked him since I had time in the morning.

One morning during the polar vortex week, I woke up and wondered exactly how much do I hate myself. I thought, should I just call in "cold" and stay home from work? Or am I a good soldier and go in? Well, we know the answer to that. I live in fear of anyone thinking that I'm dogging it even though I desperately want to. I'm the guy who tromped his way out to school on otherwise snow days in my misspent youth (misspent not in the sense of acting badly, but in the sense of not taking enough opportunities to act badly enough.)

Just how am I such a patsy for this commute? I do hate it and yet I have also grown somewhat attached to the routine. It would be nice not to have to wake up so early and haul myself out to the city and "be present" or whatever but some sick fucking part of my brain seems to enjoy sitting on a train zoned out and listening to wrestling podcasts. I feel like if I did it twice a week I wouldn't even have a problem. But by the third, I feel like I'm always in danger of falling apart at the seams. Then somehow I don't, and I wake up on Friday and I overcompensate by treating it halfway like a day off even though it should be normal. I think that's part of what I hate about the hybrid model, that you end up fetishizing your WFH days. Because I'm so stuck in place the rest of the week, it's such a release of pressure it kind of wrecks the home days a little bit. And given how much time I shave off my work day when I'm in office I end up scrambling on Fridays to get shit done before I sign off for the weekend. It's not normally so calamitous but last week saw the release of the biggest property of the year and it all fell on my shoulders with a ton of pressure and visibility.

Oh well, I guess that's what they mean when they say Work is Work.

I indulged in a little more re-reading of my archives. I saw a lot of stuff that I didn't remember saying, thinking or otherwise experiencing from back then, which was nice. I often think about how miserable and lonely I was back then. Encountering that guy years later as a spectator, I do find I did a good job expressing that while still couching it in terms that were relatable and entertaining. There were reasons people came to me back then and stayed. I wasn't half bad. There were even a few bits of writing I thought were decent, at a level I'm not confident I would be able to hit again (my energy is not generally going that way these days.)

The days blur together but don't mistake that for a lack of activity or specialness. There's been plenty, which is why I've been itching to write here. We saw the babies, we watched Sonic at Unc's, Mel went to see Wicked with her mom and I had an afternoon/early evening to myself. We had a breakfast date at Cora's. Nearly every weekend we say we want to clean but end up not, or in the case of last weekend we identify twice as many things to clean as we have time to do. We did manage to take down the decos from the shelf and put away our Christmas gifts. We saw my mom for dinner at the Judge & Jury (she and Mel somehow showed up wearing the same sweater from Reitman's) and she gave us our belated Christmas gifts including a fuzzy blanket and slipper socks Mel really liked. I've been wearing the slippers that Zia Carmelina gave me, which I like for being soft and warm but I'm less enthused about the hard soles. Oh well. Also, my Mom is moving again, now to a ground-floor apartment. I was unsurprised when I heard.

There is much to do. Laundry. Having to decide what to have for dinner, then what else to have for dinner when we decide we don't want what we had planned on. Usually that's nachos. I grind away until I can finally take a vacation in February. I think we actually don't have anything on the docket for this weekend, which is nice. We're trying to read more and be on our phones less, including reading a book about how to be on your phone less.

I think that covers it. It's out of my system. I'll see you when I see you.

Keep on Rockin'

-Scotto

Edit Feb 16: Writing on the train when this post was originally done, I skimmed a bit, but doubling back, another thing we did in January (and hell if I know which week that was) was go to Kitchener to see Mel's Auntie J and cousin Jeff. It was a nice visit, obviously I didn't say a lot but I didn't say nothing. It was not super fun to drive out there, and we were hemming and hawing over whether we wanted to accept a ride from Mel's parents or if that would be too anxiety-provoking for Mel. I told her that if I was being selfish I would take the ride because I didn't really want to drive, but that I would gladly drive if she would feel more comfortable. So I drove. It was all good but started to run out of steam after dinner when for some reason they turned on the TV to coverage of the LA wildfires. Mel lost an earring somewhere not in the house, which she was sad about. On the drive home I got off an exit earlier than I had intended, but following the GPS, which took us through more of the backroads than we would have wanted. That was a little stressful but I thought I managed OK, although Mel didn't feel good when we finally got in. That was a long while ago by now.

KOR-SAW

3: A Dead Man's Light

Back when I was in University, I crashed at a friend's dorm at the university then known as Ryerson. He had a bed free because his roommate, whom I had met once before and who seemed like a pretty chill guy, died falling off the building's roof in a drunken misadventure. I felt some type of way about sleeping in a dead person's bed, and wrote a poem about it that I only partially remember. I was thinking about that during tonight's walk as I watched salt-shaker snow fall from a deep purple sky.

I'm in bed on my own. Last night Mel was having trouble sleeping from a combo of being weirdly wired (maybe because she snoozed late or because of how the evening went) and both my ans Hank's snoring -- Hank's snores don't usually even bother her but it must have been the sum of everything. So she took off for the spare room -- which I hurriedly cleaned for her because I've been using it as a laundry waystation -- around 2. And she decided she'd like to sleep there again tonight, but this time with Hank. Hey, whatever floats.

It's been busy at work. I'm kind of just going through the motions except that therd is some major stuff in my categories and to tell the truth I actually have a lot of hands on work to do. I actually don't want to talk about it for once. I actually don't want to talk about anything, even though I want to talk.

Mel is on sort of a "break up with your phone" kick, listening to this audiobook on the subject. I was skeptical at first, but the author makes some valid and enlightening points. Of course I recognize the correctness in wanting to spend less time on your phone even as I deny it out of my own selfish addiction to my phone. I like to think I am on the healthy side -- I quit Facebook and Insta and X, Bluesky hasn't become bad yet, my social media is mostly to promote my work to not many people. But there's definitely a compulsion there that has existed since my PC days that I could probably stand to break -- he says while writing on his phone.

I shan't make this long then. As part of this kick we ditched our phones last night and ate our dinner of hawaiian pizza at the table and conversed instead of merely watching Dexter, then started work on a puzzle by sorting pieces. Then we watched Dexter.

Tonight was similar in that we put our phones out of reach but different in thst we at our dinner of nachos while watching a conspiracy doc on Netflix. It's pretty riveting but Mel was tired after 2 of the 4 episodes so here we are. I'm almost ready to turn in.

Still been going through my archives. I find it interesting. As long as you know the past will never be the present it can be fun to visit.

I need to get more writing done. We have obligations tomorrow so who knows what the morning will bring, but if I go to bed nowish I stand a chance of having some time for it.

So I bid you, keep on rockin

Scotto

2: Half of what's left

I'm on the run. That is to say, I'm on the go. That is to say, I'm on the Go Train, riding home from work (at 3:55 PM -- I say a lot about my work but I always give them credit for letting me duck out early.) I have been heretofore unable to find some time for blogging lately so I am doing something I rarely do and using the train wifi, which is pretty bad. I could be doing something more productive but I don't feel like I'll be able to until after this is taken care of.

Not that what I have to say is all that important, only that I would really like to have a post done. It's been a busy and tiring week and Lemon it's only Wednesday. Yesterday I got that suspiciously good sleep that only comes when you have forgotten to turn your alarm back on after the Holidays. I managed to spring out of bed, take Hank for a walk, do whateveritis I do and go to the station in time for, not my usual 7:56 train but the next one at 8:13, sure.

Monday had not been a good night. I had bought some things that I thought would be treats and ended up not just being a letdown but also making Mel feel ill. I let her some time alone to tend to herself -- at her request -- and set to work cleaning the kitchen, which had not been done in weeks or months or something. I often clean when I feel bad, partly because if we've had a fight (this was not a fight but it was a thing that put separation between us and she was not thrilled with me overall) I have that to focus on instead of feeling idle and guilty. 

New Year's Day -- sorry for letting the needle skip a bit -- we went to Nonna's, bringing Hank and having an unplanned dinner. It was a nice visit although Hank was a little antsy until he was permitted to climb on the couch with Nonna's permission. We gave her her secret santa gift, the concept of which is still kind of confusing to her. I had been pretty pleased with what I had gotten, taking Mel's and Mama H's advice of getting her a sweater (or sweaters) which I found on sale at Reitman's and everyone agreed looked nice. She rejected them as too big and not needed. I didn't feel bad about that, that's her place to say. I suggested that maybe she could be left out of the gift exchange next year and we all just give her a card and a lotto ticket or something. We watched a variety of Sheldon-related shows and one Goldbergs.

The next few days were WFH heaven, then on Saturday we went to Mel's parents for dinner and some games, which was nice, except Mel was feeling some anxiety and that's always tricky to navigate. That morning we had gone to the mall for Mel's nails and some running around, including returning Nonna's gift (and buying something for Mel.) The next day we went to see Unc and Sherlie and the babies, which was also nice, although as nice as these things are separately, together they amounted to a very full weekend. They were definitely glad to have the company, but at one point I got lightly scolded for my baby-holding abilities and got her taken away from me, which was kind of a downer, but what are ya gonna do. We had Mary Brown's chicken for dinner, which is good.

It was too cold to take Hank for a walk this morning and technically it's right on the line right now but I'm going to take him for a quickie when I get home because he undoubtedly needs it.

Other than that, I guess it's a lot of hanging out, playing on the phone, commuting, trying to live. I guess even my modest oversell of what has been going on lately seemed a bit exaggerated. I feel like I could be doing a lot more these days, but the commute affects not just my physical ability to set my own agenda but my mental state. I do write on here sometimes but I don't always feel like it. I can't forget what was taken from me but my anger over it has yet to materialize into something productive. I'm feeling around this dark room for the exit, but it's walls, walls, walls.

I've been binge-reading a lot of my old writing lately, exploring not just this blog but my old Tumblr which was very active in the early 2010s when this blog was starting to go down. I read one old post on one of these platforms that outlined my daily routine from back then, cannily knowing I would look back fondly on it someday. Past Scotto, you really know me. I've implied my routine here but I've never really run through it. I guess because it's not really a routine, it matters whether I'm in office or t home that day. It begins either at 6:20 or 7:50 depending, but either way it starts with taking Hank for a walk, then feeding him while the coffee brews. Then if I have to go in to the office, I take Hank back up to sleep with Mel while I kiss her on the cheek and tell her I love her, get my shit together, including fixing my coffee, and going, ideally by 7:35. I like to listen to the 7:45 thousand-dollar minute on Boom., and if I'm on time it will just be finishing as I pull into a parking space in the structure. If I'm not working of course I get to sit in a comfy chair with Hank and sip my coffee and look at my phone.

Train days, when I arrive at Union, I walk to Bagel Stop and get a cheese bagel toasted with butter. I used to bring my bagel all the way to my desk, but recently became a little more nihilistic and decided I could spare five minutes to sit there are eat the bagel while it was warm out of the toaster. Much improved. Then up to King, streetcar over, at my desk for, hm, I dunno, 9:15? 9:30? I used to be so fussy about getting to work on time when I was living in the city and now I truly do not give a shit. If I miss my 7:56 train, as happens from time to time, I get there well after 9:30, especially if I indulge my bagel. Alina used to get to her desk at nearly 10 and she lived closer than I did.

Home days, I break for shower at 12 and maybe lunch or maybe I wait until Mel is available which is often much later. We've been on a Judge Judy kick since the fall. Yesterday she was watching by herself and told me I had to see this one where she ended up calling someone's insurance provider to get it straightened out. Fuckin A, Judy. Work days it's this and that task until lunch -- I used to break but lately I'm eating at my desk or taking less time (today I got sushi so I didn't eat at desk) charge my phone (just realized I forgot my charger at work today, damn), dodge down to Jimmy's around 2 or so and chitchat with them, frantically finish everything that might be needed of me so I can leave by 3:30.

Home days afternoons are loosey-goosey. Either way we've been trying to walk Hank "after work" which could be anywhere from 5 to 6:30 or 7, but better than when we were settling in for the night then taking him out at 10.

In a few years I might look back fondly on this. Because I am filled with self-loathing anyway, there are certain elements of the soul-sucking commute that I feel energize me (the same thing was the case when I was at UofT) but overall it's a definite net negative and I would love to have a chance to go back to the way it was.

Anyway. My trip through my past isn't just that. It's a lot of interactions with the small Tumblr circle I had back then, and 20-something Scotto being himself, which he was decent at even if it wasn't getting anywhere. There's even the odd piece of writing that I think is neat. It's kind of cool to commune with my younger self even if it's a one-way conversation and I can never reach back to him. He was down a lot but you know what, it wasn't all bad. If I had all that time back, I'd probably do it all again, not because I think it was the best possible use of my time and resources, but because I simply wouldn't know what else to do. I was always gonna be me.

Which is the same thing that's true today.

Okay, I think I've emptied out and the train ride is nearly over anyhow. The reruns will continue until I stop thinking I might strike gold.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

1: Axiomatic

It's a new year and a new weird numbering scheme which is actually a very conventional numbering scheme in that it's just numbers. Usually I like to not do straight-up numbers because then in my dashboard you just see 1's all the way down and then 2's, because of the way it creates a preview icon based on the first letter (provided there's no imagery which, there basically never is.) So in recent years I've just been trying to get around that. I thought about doing "Chapter X" but then it's a whole year of C's... am I overthinking it? Surely.

It's New Year's morning and I'm on my second coffee. I haven't done anything particularly productive with my time but I have been pretty productive all week, even if I don't feel like it. I had been meaning to get another post done. Now seems like the time.

The Christmas Snow didn't last past the weirdly mild rest of the week, clearing up on the 27th, leading to a drizzly new year.

Saturday, Mel's parents came over and we spent a few hours having coffee, talking, exchanging gifts etc. Hank was ornery about Papa H's presence, which is so frustrating to all of us. Then later that night we went out to Meghan and Danny's for their holiday party. There was tons of food but nothing you would really call a meal, which was... whatever. We had been asked to bring an app, so we provided some spanakopita, of which we made too much but we had enough to munch on days later. It wasn't really needed though. Meghan went all out with dips and cheeses and meats and even smoked salmon on baguette. I guess that and some meatballs and shrimp would qualify as the entrees, provided you got enough of it. What was there was all good.

As seems to be her thing, Meghan had invited a weirdly wide net of people from her life. She said a few people had dropped out leading to an excess of food. There were two other couples -- her "godsister" and an old co-worker and their partners, as well as her parents, which put a weird vibe on the place for the early goings but eventually they headed out. Mel and I were our usual effervescent selves, but the other couples weren't very chatty, the main common ground was dogs and asking other people about their work. Danny was mostly looking after the kids at first, then joined, then had to take the dogs out.

There were games -- Hungry Hungry Reindeer (use solo cups as hooves to put marshmallows on plates), Holiday Jeopardy (which we won -- I don't really take much pleasure in doing trivia against randos, it never seems fair) and What Do You Meme, which mostly went to the younger couple until I started finding my groove. We left around midnight-ish or one-ish, I'm not sure. It was a fun night out.

Sunday we toyed with the idea of going to Nonna's, but woke up feeling more like just hanging out so that is what we did. At some point we started watching Dexter, which I've never seen the early seasons of.

Monday and Tuesday, Mel was on the hook for work, which she came to regret. I diddled on the computer in the mornings, mostly doing X-Cerpts, then ran errands, getting supplies for our New Year and going to the mall for Calendar Club, and Canadian Tire to return the duplicate blender we got, some wrong-sized light bulbs, and ultimately buy a metal utility shelf for the basement that was on sale. I'll have to assemble it, which is going to be......... a thing. But it will get more shit out of the way.

Our main New Year's plan was to eat nachos, specifically the build-your-own from the Black Bull pub. I had ordered beef, but I was dismayed to find out they didn't include it. I don't think I paid for it though so it's a wash. I did have ground beef to use, so it worked out fine but probably would have been better and easier if they had given me the meat.

Around this time we realized that Hank had gotten on the table and polished off the tin of Christmas cookies Mel's parents had brought. Damn, damn, damn, just what you need when you're making dinner at 7:30 on New Year's Eve. We didn't even know how much chocolate was in the cookies. Maybe one with a Hershey's Kiss, one with semi-sweet chips, one with white chocolate? Ugh.

So we called the Emergency Vet and they said it was probably fine but you should call Animal Poison Control to be sure, so we did, and after a lengthy hold we got through and they did some calculus on it and determined it was fine, unless he starts vomiting. We had to pay for that. Harumph. So we spent all night watching Hank to see signs of... anything. He was just tired though. Reacted well when it was time to eat.

That was the second scare with Hank in a few days, as Mel had pulled something off from behind her ear that she was concerned was a tick. I didn't think it was but what do I know. On Monday I brought it to the Vet as one of my tasks and they assured me they didn't think it was a tick (more likely just a scab, just a little hard round thing,) and if it was, with Hank being current on his meds, there wouldn't have been enough time to transmit any disease -- but the symptoms take 6-8 weeks to appear so, you know, keep an eye out.

Anyway. Our minds more or less at ease, we had our New Year's Dinner and resolved to never, ever leave anything edible on the table unsupervised again, given this was the second time in a few weeks that little rascal has helped himself, after polishing off our breakfast potatoes the weekend prior. I've never had a big dog before where it would have been a concern, although Bella used to climb up there to eat leftover chicken on Sunday nights.

We settled in and watched Woman of the Hour, which let Mel down, and I was liking until the end which I thought was a little flat and made it feel like a cheap made-for-tv thriller. I'm on Letterboxd again so  maybe I'll put some thoughts there. Then more Dexter and switching to Seacrest at 11:50 -- which would have been great except it was five minutes of commercials, some patter with Carrie Underwood, and the ball drop. Excuse me, could they not have given us an adequate 2000's band to ring in the New Year already? Jonas Brothers were coming up next. I flipped it back to Dexter and we went to bed at 1.

We wrote down some memories from the year, and some words for the new year, as we have done the last few years, a nice little tradition that only sort of feels like homework. Honestly it didn't feel that momentous, but one does try to reflect. I read old posts about New Year's Shenanigans I used to get up to, and reflected on the first NYE Mel and I spent together, which was a memorable night (mot of the ret have been very sedate, in fitting with our identity as a couple.)

Tomorrow it's back to work, but at least Maria encouraged me to work from home (whereas I usually feel like I'm being judged if I ask.) I've got a lot of vacation days for the next quarter, blowing through them as is usually necessary at the end of the year. I wouldn't leave them so late, except that you've got to "earn" them throughout the year and if you get ahead of yourself then you have to pay them back if you, say, quit the company, which I have entertained notions of doing. So I pace myself and this is the result. I'll have a week in February and a week in March and now I've got five random days for whenever; I'll use them on random Wednesdays and Thursdays just to mix things up. Always fun.

I thought yesterday about whether I would like to turn my never-gonna-happen script for Metal Hands into a comic or something. Just to get it out into the world. I began thinking about pens and color palettes that would make it not shitty. But I could never draw it. To the degree I can draw, I can draw, but I don't have time and I don't have drive. My medium is whatever you can do with a keyboard. Don't think I haven't thought about making it a book, either! But it still doesn't feel right. You know, this thing is so good but it's going nowhere. Hey, just like me.

I just re-read some posts from Jan 2013. I took some time to write down what my daily routine was like back then. I'm grateful for that, it was nice to put myself back in that time and place. Every so often I do that but inasmuch as I have a routine these days I don't think I've captured it. Put that on the list.

I think I'll call it there. We might go to Nonna's today for coffee, which makes me rare 2nd coffee a senseless endeavor, but my mouth wanted it.

Maybe I should clean the kitchen.

Yeah, maybe.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto