:: Musings, Thoughts, Quirks, and Cats ::

:: Tuesday, October 30, 2001 ::

Well, there goes another week. A rather eventful one though.
Last Wednesday, October the 24th, Meghan got in a car accident. Some guy going 60 km/h in a school zone during school time, passed three cars turning left on the right in a one-lane street. Meghan was driving the opposite direction already halfway through a left turn. The other car seriously smashed Meg's Ford T-Bird. Now, she had an older T-Bird, and those things were built like bricks. There is no way in Hell the other guy was going 30 km/h like he was supposed to be. I warned Meg that ICBC will still try to find fault with her. It's ICBC's policy to find fault with both parties, so they can shill out less money.

This weekend I was at a Youth Retreat at Chilliwack Lake, the first one I've gone to. It was pretty cold, but an amazing view. So many mountains so close was a spectacular view. I tried to play games with Doug, and see if I could work things out with him, but it was all futile. He simply didn't want me their. He had wanted to get away from me. And there I was all weekend, reminding him that I was with Jess and he wasn't. Bah, to the inferno.
Something amusing about the Retreat was the sleeping arrangements. You see, there weren't enough bunks for all the guys, so Robert and I had to share a mattress on the ground. I wasn't looking forward to that. After all, Robert's idea of a man to man talk involves a lot of wrestling and saying "You crap monkey!".

I really don't know what a crap monkey is.

But that went surprisingly without incident. What did happen was rather funny. Friday night, Chad, who was sleeping on the top bunk above Doug, started shouting at about 2:00 am.

"GET ME A BOOK!! THROW ME A BOOK QUICK!! GET ME A BOOK!!"

We all thought this was odd. Why did he need a book now?? We were all mostly asleep, so we ignored it and went back into REM. We asked Chad why he needed a book so badly that morning, and he had no idea what we were talking about. "I didn't ask for a book." he told us. "No you didn't, you demanded one." we told him. Sleep talking we guessed.
Saturday night rolls around and at about 2:00 am, Chad goes again.

"EW!!! EW!!!!!! EWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!! EW EW EW EW EW!!!!!!"

Now we wake up a little more than the night before. "What's so sick?" Robert asks.
Joel M. mutters. "Throw him a book, maybe that'll make him happy."
Too bad, but no books were thrown at Chad that night. I had a hilarious idea that he would wake up in the morning covered in books, but that didn't come to pass. Oh well.

"And the droning engine throbs in time with your beating heart"
:: Steve Ferguson 8:57 AM [+] ::
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Okay okay okay, so I keep forgetting to update this thing. Well soooooooorry. I actually have a life now!! Yay!!!!

On to more news:
My latest project for a short story came to me two nights ago. Thing is, it's not going to be at all short. Could even be a novel. (Realistically, a novelette) Anyway, I was sitting down after watching some television with Doug at about 1:00 am, and I wasn't enjoying myself. I didn't like the fact that I had to be up helping Doug with his homework. I mean, I'm willing to, but he was being ungrateful about it.

"Can I go to bed??" instead of listening to me TRY to explain arithmetic sequences to him. So anyway, I began to get frustrated, when I was sparked by a few creative zaps in my head. Before long, my brain starts running off with several different ideas merging together. By the time I went to bed, I had three chapters written out in my head. Problem was, before I could run downstairs and write them physically, I fell asleep.

Chapter 3: RIP

Anyway, I'm moving away from my usual comedy/satire, and going into the far more dramatic. It's titled:

Playground Warfare
Or
How I Could Have Saved Judy Garland's Life...And Didn't

Each chapter begins with a segment of Judy Garland's life in biographical form as an introduction, then moving on to the life of my protagonist. I won't spill anymore, but it's going to be thought-provoking to say the least.

"I don't want to rock, DJ"
:: Steve Ferguson 11:13 PM [+] ::
...

This whole thing with Doug is really getting out of hand.

He sent Jess an MSN message today, explaining how he still had feelings for her and was trying to win her heart. Jess and I talked afterwards, and she is getting just as sick of this as I am. I mean, we felt bad for Doug at first, about three or four weeks ago, when he professed that he had feelings for my girlfriend. Jess and I tried our best to help Doug sort through his feelings, and we thought we had helped him out. He sent Jess an e-mail about a week ago stating that he felt it wise not to see nor speak to her until he felt better. That lasted a couple days, then back he went.

He just can't seem to stop this destructive pity trip, and Jess and I decided to avoid Doug. I took the liberty to block Jess from Doug's MSN contact list, and leave him a note on his desktop explaining that he could put her back on if he wanted, but to give it serious thought first.

I can't stand to think of the type of pain Doug's putting himself through. I was there. I know how he feels exactly, but he doesn't believe me. But I also know it's a choice Doug's putting himself through.
Jess regards Doug as a friend, but she's in love with me. And she's happy that way.

"Let's talk about real love, truth and propaganda"
:: Steve Ferguson 4:21 PM [+] ::
...

Well, Jess and my one month anniversary was on Friday. But we spent the day together on Saturday instead, seeing as how it was more convenient for the both of us. I got her at about 11:30, and we finally reached my place at about 12:30.

My dad wasn't impressed.

You see, it was Apple Day that day, when young children can be cute for apples. It's a side effect of being "cute". The old ladies always generously donate when they see the rosy cheeked brats try and say "Apple by donation?" and fail every time. However, once you reach Cub age, you're not cute, you're some poor sap of a kid who's made to humiliate himself. Then when you're a Scout, you're not actually selling apples, you're just trying to cheat people out of their money. And when you're a Venturer, you're not selling apples at all, you're actually trying to smuggle heroin to your pimp daddy so he can jiggy your G and you can go Westside, sup. The old ladies avoid us Venturers like the plague, so we're usually the apple polishers.

So I didn't want to go this year. But anyway, my dad had been under the impression that he was going to get the car at 11:30. Seeing as how I didn't even get to Jess' until that time, I couldn't see how that worked. I told Dad that I wasn't expecting to give him the car until 12:00, or quarter after. Well, I was still late, but not AS late. Jess and I were just...caught up.

So, my dad, Doug, Nate, and Dan took off to New West to Apple Day, and Jess and I went upstairs to watch some Red Dwarf. We got through a couple episodes when Meghan called and reminded me that she was going to meet Jess today. I thought, why not invite Eric. So Eric and Meghan show up, and we all play Monopoly with Mark and Wayde.

MENTAL REMINDER: Don't play with Mark unless you feel like waiting 15 minutes for your turn, have pointless rules thrown in your face when you least expect it, and lose pathetically.

It was an interesting game, with Eric staying in the game with only the Railroads and Utilities. He had no other property, but he was striking it rich. Meghan went out, then Jess, then me. I would have been out sooner, but Free Parking is wonderful.

Anyway, Meghan and Eric left, then Jess and I took the train to the Ol' Spaghetti Factory, having a delightfully delicious meal...albeit rather expensive. Since I was a Douglas College student, we got 10% off the meal BUT it still cost us $30. I felt bad, because I hadn't brought enough, but Jess is a wonderful girl and brought an extra $5, for which I am eternally grateful.

As we walked home from Royal Oak, it was pretty cold out and rain drizzled down at us. I put my arm around her shoulder and we held each other tightly. No matter how dreary that weather was, that walk home was great.

"Don't say a prayer for me now, save it till the morning after."
:: Steve Ferguson 1:18 PM [+] ::
...

You know, I've been posting less and less on here. That's too bad really, but I keep having problems thinking what to write about. So maybe I'll write about my Thanksgiving, or rather lack of it, on Sunday.

Well, my dad calls me up on Saturday, and he says "You know, Aunt Valerie's holding Thanksgiving dinner and we're all going."

I wasn't happy about this. "Uh, I agreed to work on Sunday from 5:30 to 8:30. I wish you had told me about this sooner."

"Can't you trade the shift off?" he asks.

"No, I agreed to work on that day because no one else can!" I tell him.

"Tell you what, we'll save you a plate of food, and you can join us when you get off work." I agree to this. "Take Sperling up to Lochdale, and then turn left."

I agree again, thinking I pretty much know the way to my great Aunt Valerie's house, but I've never driven there before. So I hang up with my dad, and arrange to take the car on Sunday night.

Sunday night rolls around, and I drop Doug, Nate, and Dan off at my dad's to be picked up by my grandma, then I go to work. Well, the client who hired the theatre out that night was a local Mennonite church. I've never met Mennonite's before, and they're nice enough people, but they believe STRANGE things. On the whole, it looks like ordinary Christianity. But Mennonite women MUST wear a hat to Church, otherwise they are sinning. I wasn't sure why this was, so I asked. The Mennonite I talked to said that in 1 Corinthians 11, Paul told the women that they must wear hats to church, whereas men can not. So, I thought that was weird, and never heard of that before, but sat through their sermon anyways.

"THE WORLD IS DOOMED!! THOSE WHO AREN'T CHRISTIANS ARE FOOLS!!!!"

Wow, that's a good way to win over new people buddy. People just love being told they're idiots, and the world will explode. So anyway, after a couple hours of that, I went home and asked my mom about the Mennonites. Well, 1 Corinthians 11 does tell women to wear hats to Church, but that's only because prostitutes AT THAT TIME shaved their heads, and Paul didn't want the church associated with prostitution. Of course, that's not relevant to today, but oh well.

So I got into the car after changing my shirt and drove up Sperling. When I hit Lochdale, I turned left and almost hit a tree. Hmm...I don't remember that tree being there. In fact, I don't remember this road being an abandoned dead-end. Fifteen minutes later, after driving around up and down the blocks, I discovered my dad meant go up KENSINGTON to Lochdale. I was frustrated to say the least.

I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. I saw someone walk past the door inside, and I knocked again. "Someone's at the door!" I heard my second-cousin Andrew yell.

Nate opens the door.

"Nate?!" I ask, befuddled as to WHY he's answering the door.

"Hi." he says and lets me in. The rest of the whole family are in the living room, and I go in and sit next to my other second-cousin Chris, and Doug. "What did I miss?" I ask Doug.

"Food." he says.

"Thanks a lot." We both go into the kitchen area where my other second-cousin Brenda is talking to my dad. "And thanks a lot to you dad, you told me to take Sperling to Lochdale."

"Whoops." he said. "No, it's Kensington."

Brenda was kind enough to get me some food and my grandma got me some pop. I felt kind of uncomfortable being pampered like that, but they didn't mind. I joined the rest of the family in the living room, after being forced to listen to Daniel and Nate fooling around, making asses of themselves. Doug and I used to do that, and now I still regret being a nuisance like that.
My dad was talking to my Uncle Angus' girlfriend, Robin. Dad did all the talking, while Robin nodded every now and then as her eyes glazed over. Doug and I thought this was hilarious. Dad did the same thing to Chris during Andrew's wedding, and then again at my OTHER second-cousin Wendy's wedding.

Well, after being there for an hour, talking about my Humanities paper (which I wrote on proving how the destruction of our natural ecosystems is resulting in the degradation of the human psychological condition), Dad announced that we had to go. I said good bye to everyone, then suddenly realized I had left my driver's license in my other pants.

Crap. I've never done that before. Dad drove us home.

"No you can't take it with you, not to the place you're going to."
:: Steve Ferguson 2:37 PM [+] ::
...

Leopard's Guide To Being A Guy

1) When in a fight, never kick a guy in the balls. This is actually pretty obvious. I mean, if you kick a guy in the nuts, not only will he feel it, but every other guy in the immediate area will feel it too INCLUDING YOU! So you're also injuring yourself. He'll doubles over in pain, you'll double in pain, might as well skip it.

2) When using a public urinal, do not talk to any other occupant. If you're doing your business in a public washroom, and you turn to the guy next to you and start chattering away, the guy will think you're gay. And if you're gay, you're actually trying to look at his genitals. And if you're looking at his genitals, then you're sizing him up. And if you're sizing him up, he gets uncomfortable. If he's uncomfortable, he can't pee anymore and has just wasted time coming down to the bathroom for no reason. JUST STARE AT THE TILE IN FRONT OF YOU.

3) Never admit pain. If guys are hurt, they will pretend everything's a-okay. Nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's peachy. No, no, it doesn't hurt. The guy will make sure a female is out of sight before attending to the injury. After all, we must not admit weakness. We must pretend everything is fine, even if we lose unnecessary amounts of blood. Even if the pain becomes so intense we must chew our lip to stop crying.

4) Every guy needs time alone. All right, in plain terms, I am not talking about masturbation. Here's an example. I went camping with my Venturer company Our Vice-President, Trevor, put up half a tent. Then he muttered something about the bathroom, then sat on a log throwing sticks for the next hour. This is a great example. Trevor is an extremely lazy person, and he needed time alone. Well, he needed time to avoid work, but close enough. Guys need to think and brood by themselves, usually about the following things:
Girls.
Anime.
Food.
Girls.
Food.
Sex.
Food.
Sex.
Anime.
Food.
Girls.

5) Guys must eat. Ordinarily, you'd think that this is obvious. But no, guys eat because it makes them feel superior to animals. If a man walks in a pasture surrounded by cows after eating a hamburger, this man feels like he OWNS those cows. It's great for the ego. If a man owns a chicken as a pet, he KNOWS he can eat that chicken whenever he wants. Because that chicken DESERVES to be in his stomach.

Basically, it all comes down to the ego of the man. I'm not saying all guys are like this, but it's very noticeable in most.

"The revolution has just begun."
:: Steve Ferguson 9:38 PM [+] ::
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