April 8-9, 2001 — And other things I've learned today

Sunday was a beautiful day, and it was certainly the first day this year that really felt like spring. Given the lack of living organisms in Toronto, I've decided that musicians responsible (at least in part) for the hits of summer's past can most definitely be considered an acceptable substitute. Thankfully for the existence of spring within my mind, Jeff spotted the girl from Len (of "Steal My Sunshine" fame) walking down Yonge Street during the afternoon, signaling the true beginning of the season. Admittedly, I'm now writing this on Monday, and it was rainy and cold for the entire day, but I'm standing by my theory. It's all I've got.

So anyway. As soon as I saw Jeff on Sunday, I suspected that he would be in a skateboard-buying mood, and we were soon on our way to So Hip It Hurts, the only skate store we know in Toronto. Jeff ordered his skateboard, had it assembled, was provided with two free beers as per store policy (one free drink per $80 spent), and left, skateboard and bottles in hand. Jeff gave one of the bottles to me to carry in my pocket while he carried the other.

On the way home, we heard "Astounded" playing out of an ice cream truck, which definitely brightened my day. That, and Jeff's beer bottle exploded in my pocket in the middle of a crowded sidewalk on Yonge Street.

I moved off to the side and started removing piece of the bottle as the beer poured out, soaking my pants, shoes, and (somehow) my shirt in alcohol. I cut my left hand pretty nicely as I worked to remove chunks of glass from my pocket, and, noticing that I was bleeding a decent amount, Jeff went into a Mr. Sub and asked for napkins. During this time, I was entertained by the sight of my fellow pedestrians keeping their distance from me as I dripped blood onto the sidewalk. I was holding onto Jeff's skateboard at the time, so I'm hoping that these pedestrians thought I'd injured myself while doing a 360-kickflip (or something along those lines); it seems a tad more credible than cutting myself while picking shards of glass out of my pocket.

A few hours after I'd arrived home and cleaned the wound on my hand, the first accusations of me "breaking edge" started to occur -- alcohol in my bloodstream and all. This certainly ruins my plans to get three X's tattooed on my forehead...

Later that night, things started to make even less sense as we began throwing pennies randomly around the room. As I type this, I can see a good fifty or so pennies on various parts of the floor. It all started when Jeff was stacking a pile of coins on his elbow and catching them. In a remarkably short period of time, this evolved into an all-out penny war. Having extracted a good three- or four-hundred pennies from my change bowl, we had plenty of ammunition, and since we hate our room and have no intention of putting any amount of effort into cleaning it, it didn't seem like such a bad idea to randomly toss coins about.

I think you had to be there.

Which brings us to Monday. Conveniently, this was a pretty good duplicate of Saturday: absolutely nothing was accomplished and I've no stories to tell. Erika and I emailed back and forth for awhile during the afternoon, and I avoided studying for physics, but that's really about it. What a tedious life I lead...

Right then. Sorry for the four-day journal. I'll try to avoid letting it happen again in spite of the ridiculous amount of work I have to do this week. Those interested in writing an essay entitled "Straight Edge: An overview of a subculture and its context within popular culture" for Thursday are invited to trade places with me; apply within.