Day 57
So there I was in my room getting stuff done all morning. I finally opened my door to go and brag to my neighbor of my many accomplishments when I saw him. Yesterday, in the chairs directly across from my doorway was seated a smallish man with huge glasses and a tupperware container and he was back. I know it doesn't sound that intimidating, but come on he was seriously right in front of my door. I scurried to my friend's door and rushed in to tell her. She emailed my next door neighbor to go and talk to the creeper. I peeped out and saw the president of my building (whatever the fuck that means) and I pulled the president into my friend's room. He went up to the guy and asked him what he was doing here and then came back to my friend's room and from the hallway said in a loud voice, "He's alright, he's just here for a conference all week that's down the hall." Great, I thought, now the psycho can hear that I was afraid, never show your fear.
Anyway, shortly after that my neighbor comes knocking on my friend's door to report that the guy was harmless (I still didn't buy it). I told him we already knew and we had a laugh that the hallway creeper was asked twice within 10 minutes what his business was eating his lunch in our hallway. Ha! That's what you get creep, see you tomorrow, unless you're too scared to roll in my hallway again.
A friend and I were to head out to see Where the Wild Things Are after supper. She suggested I send out an email to the residents inviting them to tag along seeing as we hate how we are always being left out of activities. I did, only semi-remembering the email we had received from the president requesting our presence at the lectures the college hosts and remembering the fact that one of those lectures was happening this evening. Guess who emailed me back?
Yeah, that's right the president emailed me. But, from the tone and content of the email he seemed more like a disappointed dad or a mean high school geometry teacher. I read through and wrote an apology stating that I didn't mean to defy his wishes. Then, I went out to find my friend and bitch about getting scolded and who should I see...that's right Mr. Principal (pal my ass). I confronted him about the issue and in true Canadian style he apologized to me and told me everything was just fine and then commended me on spotting a potential creep earlier in the day. What a great country. I bet I could easily become dictator one day. What's that you say? They don't have a dictator, wait until I get ahold of that prime minister and for my transgressions he will apologize and offer me the position straight away and commend me on taking over.
We gobbled up our dinner and then snuck out into the darkness as the good residents were settling in for their long lecture. Since I took extra minutes to go to the bathroom (which I heard about nearly the whole way there) I had to gallop along behind my fast-walking friend to catch the bus on time. The last leg was an all out sprint I was sweating when we finally reached it. Anyway, we got into the theater barely on time. Really, I can't live my life racing around like a moron and to think I was actually considering jogging (what? I was drunk at the time and eating pizza jogging seemed like a good IDEA). The movie was great except for the camera work and the music.
I finally understand why my father can't watch Craig Ferguson. He always complains of him jumping in front of the camera. When I watched the movie tonight there were quite a few running scenes when the camera would move super fast, I'm not sure if it was the running, the tuna steak I ate, the beginnings of possible swine flu, the giant diet coke, or what but it made me nauseous. Then there was the music, which played even louder than the already boisterous sound system was set at and often cut off dialogue. After having mulled over these two issues I had with the film (other than that it was friggin incredible) I've diagnosed myself with early on-set old age.
But, it's not so bad with early on-set old age. Just think, I don't have any bratty grandkids to remember the names of or give a dollar each to at Christmas time. I don't even have to deal with children of my own. I am still in partial control of my faculties. I could still have sex (if I found anybody worthwhile). I don't have to wear dentures (although it might be fun to pop them out at strangers). And, I love watching Wheel of Fortune. I just wish I could get the senior citizen discount.
-Canadian Castaway
Boring Technical Note: My blogger account was down last night. I know, it was hell I had to drink a bottle of Ny-Quil to stop the tears long enough to sleep. But, it did give me some satisfaction to be realize (according to the help site) that there was an entire legion of damaged bloggy souls all discombobulated. Geez, blogs down for one night and they go all postal. It's not like I hit the desk or started pacing or, woke up before my alarm to check on my account, you'd have to be insane to act like that....shit. Anyway, this post was supposed to be up last night.
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