"yeah, that's how it starts"

my favorite line from Training Day.

well not my favorite, but most relevant.

i went to a show last night, to take my mind off of things. a bit of a farewell i suppose.
it was in Guelph, metal, metalcore bands. the usual (for me, locally anyway).

bought some merch from a band called Farewell to Freeway. music's all right, but i had ended up talking to one of them at the merch table after they played, and they all seemed like nice dudes so I figured I'd buy something.

afterwards, i headed to the N V Lounge, and a couple of them happened to be there. we did the whole "drunken new best friends bit" and I hung out long enough to meet up with the rest of the band elsewhere.

same shit that happens when any musicians get together over drinks. we talked about music. exchanged info, myspace, just got done recording, let me hear it, oh man, we should play together, blah blah blah etc., blackout.

well i don't know if blackouts usually happen, but they usually do when i'm out drinking and chatting. to me, anyway.

anyway, checking my email this afternoon, and one of them emailed me a song not bad. nothing like what i heard at the show, but i dig it.

anyway, the reason for the title of the post and movie reference, is that i am headed off to see my friend Darren in NYC. still not set on whether that will be the end or not, but at the very least, it would be cool to celebrate New Year's in New York, since the image of Times Square is almost synonymous.

i've said bye to everyone that needed to know.
let Sam know via text. was not happy with the response.

oh well.

Quod fiat, fiat.

(i'm not that smart, i saw it written on someone's myspace earlier and looked it up)

Oh, so you mean I actually have to plan it out....

I have a lot of things on my mind right now.

First and foremost, I am wondering if I really want to go to New York. Being the way that I am, I decided I made the decision in a moment of emotional intensity. A moment of weakness in reason. Which means I am now wondering if that's what I really want to do.

OK, let me backtrack. Yes, I still want to go.
I guess what I am wrestling with now, is that if I go to New York, I don't think I am going to come back. Not right away, anyway.

But then it's like, do I have enough money? Where would I go? How would I get around?

It's not like I have an amazing car or anything. Just a Bonneville. I mean it works, but I don't know if I would trust it on a trip without a destination.

I got a decent amount of money for Christmas and graduation. Plus my regular savings, which I am usually pretty good with. But I wonder how far $5,000 (maybe more, maybe less) would really take me.

I don't even know why I even write about these things in here. It's not like I have a huge audience of people awaiting my every post with baited breath.

Sidenote: I looked up "baited breath" just now, as after I typed it, I wondered if it was an actual phrase. I swear I've heard it before, but it's like, while I know what it means, I don't know the origin, or if I even used it correctly. The more you know. *

Anyway, whatever. Headed to a show at the Vinyl tonight.
After that, it's farewell to Ontario.

* So I'm a nerd that likes etymology. Fuck off.

Merry Christmas, pt. 2

OK, so i don't need to go into detail.

Well, maybe I do. I don't know. Either way ends up with "this is fucking ridiculous and this fucking sucks".

After the Rhett Miller show, last Wednesday, Sam and I got into another fight over the same jealousy bullshit. Except instead of jealousy over a girl, this time it was over a roadtrip.

Better yet, just the idea of one. One I haven't even taken yet. As much as I don't like Kerouac's writing style, after reading On The Road (and this blog's namesake before that), I find myself continually talking to myself and others about the romance of wanderlust. At least the romance I found in between his stream-of-consciousness rambling. I guess it strikes a chord with me since I've never left Ontario, as well as the usual young-pseudo-culturally-enlightened-adult's "no one understands me" mindset I have buried myself in. It is a sincere sentiment, despite my self-awareness of it. I mean, come on, I'm not THAT full of myself.

Anyway, throughout the course of the night, I was talking about how I need to get away from Ontario. Even if it was just for a weekend, just any amount of time to break away from everything in my life, to see if there is anything more, in the world or in me. You know, spiritual, new age stuff amplified and seemingly almost tangible by Canadian Club Whiskey.

She assumes I am saying I need to break away from her. Which, in one sense, in that she is part of my reiterating daily life, yes. But not in a personal way. Not in the way that she is the reason I feel I need to leave. I can understand how one would think that, but I would almost say that's a selfish way to look at it. I need to break away from her (as part of my life), not break up with her.

It's hard to explain, even harder when drunk. When one looks at things as objectively as I do, it's hard to bring an (i think) innocent but seemingly cold observation [all the things in my life are predictable, and it bores me] down to a point where it still makes sense in a sensitive person's subjective viewpoint [but i am part of your life, so that means I bore you, and you don't like me].

So we're arguing and she thinks I hate her, and asks why such a trip can't wait for her. I say she's still in school, so it's impractical for to take time off, and it's something I would want to do alone for my own good. Also, I might plan for a week but stay out for a month, taking everything as it comes. In any case, I stressed, it was just a thought I had, not a plan that was in motion.

She says the whole thing only made sense if I planned to cheat on her, and then I flipped out. I mean I flipped the fuck out.

After a long diatribe questioning the intelligence and merit of such an assertion, whatever I said must have hit some switch. I didn't even know she had it in her to slap me. Much less, slap me that hard.

None of us said a thing the rest of the night.

And it stayed that way until last Friday.

I have never been in a "separation" before. Not a break up, just "time apart". Funny, that after hitting me for wanting to spend time alone, she gives it to me. I don't even comprehend what the hell her reasoning is. How long is it supposed to last? What are the terms? Who ends it? Why did I even agree to it?

All I know, is that this is fucking ridiculous and this fucking sucks.

And, I leave for New York this weekend.

The Times

They are a changin....



what a relevant song...

merry christmas

my girlfriend wants to separate

Tonight...

Rhett Miller

Horseshoe Tavern.

Beers.

and me.

see you there.

Speaking of which, tonight...

yeah, leafs nation

this bird is flying to toronto

So Rhett Miller is playing tomorrow in Toronto.

Yeah, I'm into that shit. A couple years back, Veal Chop gave me a copy of "The Instigator". It was all right.

I wasn't really into that kind of stuff, alt-country or whatever Veal called it. I had just started a kick of indie stuff (via a late introduction to At the Drive In), and Veal was/is some kind of indie fountain.

Anyway, Sam and I are going. Good times.

Labatt times.

I Am Chris

I wonder if there's a way for the clarity of the morning after a drunken argument to manifest itself during the argument, as opposed to after, when there's a chance the argument leads to permanent consequences. I suppose it would we

As always, Sam and I are fine, apologetic, etc. We met up for a late lunch today, and spent the rest of the day as we usually do, happy. That's all that needs to be said there. This blog doesn't need to be anymore of a drama fest.

I just got home, and I'm listening to At The Gates. Seriously, the need to do some reunion shows here or in the States. The band is sick.

Um...guess I only have random thoughts here. I saw I Am Legend today. I think I was more psyched about the Dark Knight trailer than the movie. It wasn't bad, but the storyline is completely different from the book. I usually don't judge movies by the books they are based off of, as I understand the mediums are completely different, but I think this is the first time I've ever been disappointed by the translation. The whole reason for calling the story "I Am Legend" in the movie is the exact opposite of the book. Still, Will ("Welcome to Earth!") Smith
did a fine job.

I am tired as hell.

I always feel like I need to keep filling this out. Every sentence I type seems like I need to make
3 more to keep this interesting.

yeah, I'm drained.

I'll write more tomorrow.

So last night...

Sigh.

Well, I graduated. I finally received the piece of pretty paper that now says to society I am an adult with potential to succeed. My potential to fail is assumed because I am young and a human being, but this paper encourages at least a second chance, my professors tell me.

I am happy about that.

What I am not happy about is last night turned out.
It started well enough, Sam and I met up with my family after the ceremony, had a late lunch, went back to my place, [censored], and got ready to meet friends as well as the night shift at the local dive.

Turns out, most of our people didn't make it, on account of the weather, which kinda bummed me out. It just ended up with 5 of us: myself, Sam, and our friends Andrew, Danielle, and Veal Chop*.

Long story short, we just drank and went through (what I'm sure is) the usual "What comes next?" conversations that happens after these things. Sam's still in school another year, and the others are already either moving or have begun their job search. I, on the other hand, have no idea. Sam never likes to hear that. She's the type that feels a script for life is absolutely necessary, even if it's just to keep everything random or to do nothing at all. If you are to do nothing, you must plan for nothing. One shouldn't attempt or risk anything they aren't positive they can achieve.

And hey, whatever, that's fine, but I'd much rather have my life come to me moment by moment. I am very much more interested in the means than the end of something. The journey towards any goal I have is always much more exciting than the goal. I know I talked about being psyched to graduate, but that's more because it opens up a whole new landscape of uncertainties, unpredictability, and all that shit. Fuck the victory, how did I run the race?

Anyway, I'm rambling. Later that night, Sam and I are sitting at the bar now, and she takes off to make a phone call. I'm reading a flyer for a show at the Guelph later this month and draining my 7th Labatt when the bartender comes by with a smile and a shot. She pours tequila. I hate tequila. It is the only shot I will refuse, even if offered. I take it anyway. It sucks.

As I'm coughing, Sam sits down, and asks "Why did she buy you a shot?". She did not sound happy, and a familiar sigh swelled inside as I said it was because I just graduated. I knew she had already made up her mind though.

And so, we got into a fight. Yelling without trying to be loud, all that shit. It happens everytime I get a shot from a girl bartender, even if the bartender gives one to her as well. She gets extremely jealous for reasons I don't even understand. I worked as a bartender when she met me, so I grew to know all the other bartenders in the area, most of which are female. To her, that translates to my having fucked all of them, before and after I met her. Or something, I don't even know. I do know it drives me fucking crazy.

And so we argue all the way home, shouting nonsense at each other; my trying to explain how it's just a shot, not a proposal, and her insistence that I was hitting on the girl when Sam left for the phone. Somehow, the argument turns to my not having plans after graduation, and

And whatever, she went off to her place and I to mine, too pissed and drunk to think straight. This happens way too often between us, and it's becoming absurd.

Absurd.

I can't tell right now if it's the alcohol or thinking about all of that that's making my head hurt worse right now.

Ugh, I need food.

////

*trust me, the name "Veal Chop" is way more interesting than the story of how he got the name...

Today...

...is amazing.

whoooooo whiskey

that';s all

I don't know what to title this one...

Went out for a few drinks last night with Samantha and the rest.
Came back after having a few extra.
Going back tonight, for just a couple more.

It's going to be a little harder than I thought trying to keep this thing updated. Actually no, keeping it relevant is what I mean. Like starting anything new, I lived the whole life of what I imagined this blog would be in the time it took to sign up for it. It's all romantic, all exciting. So today, just one day later, I almost forgot I even started it.

Ha, and so I sat here for like 10 minutes trying to think of where to take that thought. Aaaaand it's gone, and so am I.

also, this...


Haha what the fuck? Who the hell was filming?

One small step, eh...

So I've decided to start this blog.

Of course, I have no idea who'll even read this, but what the hell. Times, they are a-changing. Come writers and critics. Etcetera.

I'm Chris.

First, i need to mention that I'm graduating this Friday, and I'm fucking stoked. Be stoked with me. I've been studying Journalism (for those curious) at Sheridan Institute, and I am way too anxious to wrap this up. I need to get the hell out of here. I've been in Canada all my life, never once stepping foot onto any foreign soil.

I need a break, I need a change, I just need some different air to breathe.

Of course, where I'd like to go has some issues with where I can afford to go.
And I've got a girlfriend. (don't kill me Sam ;D). I've got one hell of an itch though.

A friend recently turned me on to Kerouac. What the hell. The dude writes like my puppy pisses (all over the place). Corny, whatever. It's true. He's got the right idea, though. Whatever I think of his writing style, he's completely convinced me that I need to get out of here, and soon. Yeah, I'm about to graduate, and should probably follow the script and get a job, but what the fuck, I'm only 23, I have the rest of my life to be boring.

Hell, I haven't even toured with any of the bands I've been in. I've got friends in bands who are doing all right (some more than others), but every one of them have managed to make it at least to some other place in Canada. Some to the States as well. I thought i was gonna be close with my last band, but the drummer moved to go to school in Minnesota. Dick.

That's his name, actually :)

Anyway, right now, I'm just focused on graduating. More precisely, I'm focused on what I'll be drinking after graduating.

Later.