Day 95
When I woke up this morning I rolled out of bed and began googling the author of the book, "Commonwealth." I had started his book last night, well at 3:30 am and ended staying up until 4:30. There is something about the premise of the main character selling junky action figures in a low rent flea market that greatly appeals to me. Anyway, all I could find was a youtube video of the author just after high school playing in a band and asking for seven rows of oranges and a website that had a picture of the young author and a link to his myspace and facebook pages.
I first clicked onto his myspace page and read through his interests in music and books. We liked a lot of the same stuff; his band list looked like my Itunes library and his book list contained two of my favorites, Winesburg, Ohio and my absolute favorite, Confederacy of Dunces. The only odd thing was that he had also included Steinbeck on that list. Wait a minute, I don't like Steinbeck, I thought. What the fuck?
So, I clicked onto his facebook page, requested his friendship and then promptly sent off a message with the subject head, "Steinbeck question." Just the other day a few friends of mine were at the pub (where else do you find writers) and someone had brought up Steinbeck. I spit on the very idea of it having made several attempts at reading his work and failing each time due to boredom. Really, I don't want to read about landscapes for a million pages I don't care how hills looked I care about what went on in those hills. But, I thought to myself if this author who I have so many things in common with likes Steinbeck maybe I should give him another shot. So I asked this stranger what his recommendation was for a Steinbeck book. Maybe I should write to famous authors all the time and ask for reading recommendations. Well, not all of those writers will have Freaks and Geeks as their favorite TV show or know who The Replacements were. Forget it.
Today was pretty boring. I basically did laundry and took out the trash. These chores had me walking across the courtyard of the building many times. Half of the residents' windows face the courtyard. I smiled as I made a million trips thinking, I wonder if anyone was watching me and wondering why the hell I am promenading through every twenty minutes. Usually these things exist only in my imagination and make me think I have a mental illness that has some form of paranoia in the title.
I finally emerged from my writing, cleaning, and facebook-athon and went to supper. I walked into the line to see the girl who lives directly above me. She is from South Africa. She said, "Hello," in her British English accent. I mocked her. She said, "I've been watching you all day." I said, "What?" "I saw you walking through the courtyard all morning." Who's the creeper now? This makes me sane, right? Don't answer, I can't handle the truth.
So besides the food fight between me and my big fat gay Hawaiian friend which ended up with me hitting the girl next to him like five times with an orange section (but, once it bounced off her head and hit his, it was truly amazing) the only other major event that happened at VAFN (Vaguely Asian Food Night) was that my Mexican friend told me a story. He leaned in close and said, "I realized how horny I am the other day." "Yeah?" "So, there I was walking down the street and I saw this woman and I was like, those are some hot legs. I looked at them for a second and then I looked up and the legs belonged to a mannequin."
Tonight I saw a Canadian film called, Bon Cop Bad Cop. And, it made my hatred to the Quebecois subside, just a tad. (Note: The only reason I say that I hate Quebec is because this nasty sleezeball who lives here is from there and it really pisses him off) The movie itself was alright despite all of the French. (by extension I hate French due to my hatred for my Quebecois rezmate) The best part was how hot the Quebecois male lead was. I think this had more to do with his grizzly looks and cigarettes and not his province of origin. But, I am not entirely sure.
I almost missed the entire film earlier because I somehow stumbled onto a site where you could watch full episodes of "Paris Hilton is My New BFF." I couldn't resist and now I am hooked. She is insane. This is the most American television I have ever seen. She makes these people get makeovers, do whatever she wants, and puts them in a mansion called, "The Dollhouse." I skipped all of my homework to watch two full episodes. The absolute best part so far was when she had her little wannabes write up and give toasts to her and her mother. I am completely hooked. I don't care who wins I just want to see what she'll make them do. Gotta watch one more quick ep before bed. So, as Paris says, "I have to get back to my life now so hopefully one day one of you will be a part of it."
-Canadian Castaway
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