For an Audience of One

You don’t really know why you are in a terrible mood and it’s only getting worse. Most of the time you know what is making you crawl out of your skin but waking up mad isn’t the same. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. It’s not often that you wake up with any clue as to why; it’s been said by old wives that you’ve awoken on the wrong side of the bed. It’s difficult to not believe them. As ridiculous as their story sounds, this morning you woke up on the usually unpopulated side of the bed. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
If they were right, and the side of the bed you wake up on really does influence your mood, then you’ll have an excuse to punch the girl sitting beside you, gulping water down like she’s on ‘X’. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. And chewing the ice meant to keep her water cold, not that she needs it, the way it’s diminishing, ironically just like the worlds supply. On some level you hope she’ll look over and read what you are writing just so she will realize how insignificant she is to you at the moment. The Writing class’ end is signified by the instructor’s speech impediment: “Have a gerd day!” Fifty minutes of what you expect closely resembles Hell is all you have to sit through; you flee, jamming headphones in your ears as a sort of Do Not Disturb sign¹.
Smiles, at any other time, would be welcome; but today they’ve been taken as mockery. When you’re pissed off, their joy only makes it worse. Everything that, yesterday was a blessing, today is an annoyance and you wonder how you would feel if someone said “That time of the month hey?” Walking to your next class. Running from your last. The familiar vocal vibration of your phone may hold an out when it comes to your frame of mind². The notification of someone trying to come in contact with you was only in your head; had someone said, “I’m on vibrate” just to screw with you? You think that you don’t want to come in contact with anyone but at the same time you’d feel great if you could spread your misery to at least one person. So maybe that’s why you are writing this. What is wrong with you? Have you written this in the hopes of ruining the day for everyone who reads? Well, good job. I hope you’re satisfied.

1. I would love to officially implement headphones as a Do Not Disturb sign. I have at many times used them as so, however, the unspoken agreement is often broken when the individual not wearing the headphones strikes up conversation with the headphone-wearing unwilling participant. If you are not wearing headphones wait for the person who is, to acknowledge you; if they don’t, then they don’t want to talk to you.

2. Odd, considering the fact that you, in that moment, were very content with your discontent.

-Terry Ecklund

Happiness requires action…you’re lazy

The Neverland Plan

The door to adulthood is no longer at far end of an infinite hallway. It has finally been reached and after years of skepticism, walked through. I didn’t feel the change as much as some hoped to hear when asking, “So, do you feel like an adult.” I have said it many times before; I don’t think I’ll ever grow up. Some live their lives in the dream world; I will live mine in Neverland. My Neverland is slightly different from J.M. Barrie’s, however, in that it contains grow-ups. This will allow me to benefit from the trials and errors of the elders whilst still having all the fun Peter and Wendy had.
At the cost of acting my age every once in a while, I’m able to have all the fun a kid does all the while having the privileges of an adult. For example: I can still laugh my ass off at movies like Billy Madison and CB4 and, at the same time, I don’t have to notify my Mom if the TV says “Parental Discretion Advised”. Granted, I look like I’m twelve so, if I am caught doing something stupid the elders shrug it off as another immature kid. Yes, the plan is irrefutable!
The “Neverland Plan” (Trademark, Terry Ecklund, 2006) can be taken advantage of by anyone, however, the problem many people run into when trying to execute it is that, when choosing what is categorized as immature and mature, certain things are placed in the wrong group; most frequent of which is the Parent/Child relationship. Too many people are afraid of what others might think if the love for their parents is publicly displayed. I don’t particularly advocate the holding of hands while walking through the mall with a parent and their 18-year-old child. Nor should anyone with an age ending in “teen” call their parents “Mommy” and “Daddy”; at a certain point, it’s just strange¹.
On the contrary to popular belief it IS cool to love the ‘rents and even cooler to show it. I am, as many of you have heard, a mama’s boy; and I always will be; so much, in fact, that the last three girlfriends I have had, have all worked at the hospital (where my Mom works). Weird! The sub-conscious scares me sometimes.
Even as an adult, there are times you just need your Mom or Dad to help you through a rough time. The other day working at Wal-Mart I cut myself using an X-Acto knife and immediately after made my way to the emergency room. Walking to my car (so I could drive myself to the hospital) holding my hemorrhaging finger, I called Mom. Unfortunately, I got the answering machine:

“Mom, I cut my finger pretty bad at work so I’m going to the emergency room. I guess I’ll see you there when you get this.”

I waited for hours holding the finger, my doctor would later tell me, needed five stitches. I was amazed to see that the comforting and, at times, healing kiss my Mother had, lives on in something as small as her presence. When my Mom received my message and frantically showed up to the hospital the pain seemed to subside. The pain came right back ten-fold when the freezing for the stitches was put in, I think it was because she left the room so as not to puke.

1. At Wal-Mart I once saw a woman, about 20 years of age, saying: “Mommy, come and look at this blanket!” I wanted to punch her in the face; instead, I called my Manager and told him that after the day’s shift I would no longer be working for him. Yes, Wal-Mart is in the past, I’ll have to find my inspiration elsewhere.

-Teck

Sha-la-la-la-la-la
Music play
Do what the music say
You wanna...

Noteworthy: For those of you who miss the good ol’ days of ScruffingTeck, a couple friends of mine are running a site headlining many of their hilarious movies. They have also been generous enough to toss up tons of the old ScruffingTeck favourites. I highly recommend checking them out especially if you are a frequent reader. The link to the Generic Gamers will permanently be up in the “Links” section. Thanks Aaron! Cheers!

Noteworthy (2): We’ve both noticed that I have been slipping a bit when it comes to entries. I’ll keep them coming but I think I’ll need a few days of leeway unless you guys want crap. I have been really busy with school and so I haven’t really been looking for things to write about. If you guys keep reading I’ll keep writing! Peace.

Noteworthy (3): I just said “Peace.” Is that allowed?

Another First Day of the Rest of My Life

Last night I went to “Little Miss Sunshine” with Alix, Daver, Tayler and Marie. The movie was great but it, unfortunately, did not leave me time to eat (and more importantly, write a blog) so all I ate yesterday was a sandwich made by yours truly. Now, the sandwich was very good, don’t get me wrong, however, that does not change the fact that “sandwich” is a singular noun (learned that in my English class. Aah ha! University is good for something!) My lack of food intake, my abundance of classes in the morning, taken with my short-term memory loss made it absolutely necessary for me to write the word “eat” on my hand as a reminder to feed myself.
My first couple of days attending Post-Secondary schooling or “uni,” as you would so eloquently put it, have been a blast. My writing class hasn’t taught me much yet, although, it does show promise for better papers and, in turn, better grades.
Philosophy, my second class of the day, has already taught me much about Socrates and Plato. It has also made me realize how little I know about everything. A typical discussion in my Philosophy class:

“So everything that has an opposite comes from that opposite?”
“That is what Socrates is saying. If something is smaller, it has come from its opposite: larger. If something is now hungry it has come from full. Therefore things come from their opposites. If this is true, and the opposite for that which is living is dead, then that which is dead comes from the living and that which is living comes from the dead. Therefore, the dead must survive to comeback as the living.”

Whether or not Trudy Govier (the author of Socrates’ Children as well as my Philosophy professor) is implying we’re all zombies is unknown. And is just one of the many questions it brings up (Where do the souls go? The population is growing, does that mean there are zillions of souls just waiting to come to Earth? And, if there are a bunch of souls waiting to come to Earth, how long have they been there? and many more...)

My English class is going quite well and I think I’m going to greatly enjoy this compared to my grade 12 English 30-1 class with Mrs. Layton. It seems that English teachers and Humour aren’t at opposite ends of the world’s spectrum. When Dr. Penny (my English teacher) put a picture of Hadrian’s Wall into a PowerPoint presentation and it automatically resized so all you could see were a few posts and the bottom of the wall.

Dr. Penny sighs

“The picture has automatically resized so all you can see are these posts. However, they are ancient posts. Breath it in.”

Walking around campus is noticeably different than LCI not just in the fact that the campus, as well as the student body, is much larger (by roughly five times when it comes to students.) but also in the things you hear around the school:

“And we have a winner in Sexy Bingo! What’s your name again? “

“Teresa.”

“And what’s in that goodie bag that you just won Teresa?”

“A book on sex and a pocket-size vibrator.”

“Be sure to keep that close, it’s a girl’s best friend!”

I was once hauled into the office for saying the word “shit” in the hallways at LCI and now they are handing vibrators out to students! This is awesome! Ever since elementary school the metaphorical leash has been getting longer and longer. The older you get the more responsibility you are given and expected to have. And now at the University level, it seems the leash has finally been unclipped for us to roam free. We aren’t scolded for not doing our homework, we aren’t given detention for not going to class; if you aren’t doing the work then you won’t get the grade. We’re adults! And unfortunately, adults have to eat.

-Teck

NEVER EVER pour the milk first

Noteworthy: It is my 18th birthday on Sunday and I want all you 18-year-olds (and youngin's with fakes) to come and chill at the Blarney Stone 'roun 8 O'Clock. I will see you then! Sorry about being late with the blog, the stress of University has started.