April 6-7, 2001 — I will mimic you from my cage

A lot happened this weekend. And it was nice outside. So I didn't spend enough time writing journals or generally updating my Web site. Don't deny it, though: you'd've done the same.

In any case, with this in mind and with four days to cover, I'm splitting this journal into two parts. Another antigreg first as I continue to come up with new features to cover up instances of me slacking off for days at a time. Don't think it's going to stop, either -- with two tests and a rather epic research paper due this week, I'm going to actually have to do a little bit of schoolwork.

No, really.

And in the meantime, there was Friday. I got a fairly large package from home; I consider this the starting point of the four days of lethargy that follow, as it contained large amounts of unhealthy food along with a copy of the live-action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. Needless to say, Friday afternoon involved a screening of said film in one of the residence common rooms.

Also needless to say, I highly recommend the film. Come for the ridiculous plot and stay to see a tiny version of Splinter mimicking his master's movements from his cage in learning those ninja skills that served him so well. I must admit that Vanilla Ice's absence was duly noted, but that's just all the more reason to rent the first two movies at once and to watch them back-to-back.

But the movie watching didn't stop there.

Laura and I were both in grumpy moods, so we decided to go for a walk. We ended up at a theatre downtown, and I was talked into watching "Someone Like You," a movie best described as a romantic comedy. (Seeing a romantic comedy made some vague sort of sense at the time. Honest.) Now, I'd like to say that I hated the movie, but I really didn't. It did have its moments, and it was nice to get out of my room for a few hours. I felt a bit better by the end of all this, although I'm not sure that Laura could say the same. I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine, after all.

Once I arrived back at residence, Laura informed me over ICQ that Iain, one of the Peterborough kids I'd met back at Queen's University mini-courses in 1998, was in my building. After a brief search, I found him in a stairwell and we got semi-caught up on life in general as we took turns talking to Laura on the phone. Fun was had by all.

I eventually returned to my room, and after talking to Erika for awhile, I went to sleep until sometime Saturday afternoon.

And oh, what a waste Saturday was. I accomplished absolutely nothing, and I'm prone to forgetting that the day even happened. All I can remember is a brief stint riding around on the subway reading a book of short stories that I bought the other day.

While on the subway, I had a man I recognized ask me for money, and I quickly realized that I'd given him change before. His strategy is a bit different, though: he'll ask you for exactly seventy-five cents. I think this is pretty brilliant since it manages to look less like begging and more like a one-time thing -- an effort to get the last seventy-five cents needed to afford something specific. After I gave him three quarters, we talked about Russia's role in the second world war, a topic that I can generally hold my own in for a few minutes thanks to my father's persistence in bringing up the topic whenever possible combined with his repeated viewing of "Stalingrad" while I was in the room. This actually marked the first time that anyone had spoken to me on the subway in spite of months and months of riding it when I wanted to be alone, so I must admit that I've had pretty good luck with this subway system of mine.

And on that note, on to part two...