Colin Timothy Gagnon (sacredspud) wrote,
Colin Timothy Gagnon

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Last night had its ups and downs.

Ellen and I went shopping for a computer desk. We went to a couple of stores, and I saw a bunch of people I know and haven't seen in ages. First was Kara of Ursula and Kara fame. Remember Ursula and Kara? Well Tom and Jessica would, but Tom doesn't comment on my journal and Jessica doesn't know it exists. Actually, xoshua, you might remember Kara. She was in forensics -- the blonde half of Romeo and Juliet, Abridged. Anyway, I tried to stay out of sight and didn't say hi. That's the kind of person I am these days.

I also saw Ben. Again, xoshua, you know who Ben is. Way back when (like, ten to eighteen years ago) Ben was like, my best friend. When he was in seventh or eighth grade, his parents enrolled him in a self-directed education program where he and another kid named Ben created their own economics ciriculum centered around marijuana production. His teachers were supportive (ah, Madison,Wisconsin, how we love thee), and I'm not kidding. His parents were less thrilled about it, so when they moved to Evansville they enrolled him in school there. Ben and I remained friends, and I spent at least a few months blissfully unaware that he was growing pot in his bedroom. So did his parents until they were gone on graduation weekend of his junior year. He offered his house as a party spot and -- in the words of his parents -- "trashed the house." I didn't see the aftermath, so I don't know what that means. He also put 650 miles on their new SUV and wasn't home when they returned.

Months later he turned out to be living with his real father in Canada. He came back the summer after I graduated high school, and we got together maybe once or twice. I guess he's doing okay. I just looked him up on the Wisconsin Circuit Courts website, and I see he's been in court seven times since returning home, most recently in September for operating a vehicle under the influence. I'm sure you wanted to know all of this.

Ben might have recognized me, but I tried to stay out of sight and didn't say hi. That's the kind of person I am these days. I didn't tell Ellen about Kara or Ben. With her upcoming internet access (to be installed today), she'll probably read this and say "why didn't you say something? We could've said stopped to say hello." I'm kind of enjoying being a jerk these days, so if I had really wanted to say hello, I would have.

But um, we bought the desk and set it up at Ellen's. That was the "down" part of the evening. It's perfectly sturdy and will probably last a few years, but some of the screw holes weren't lined up right and two of the most important screws simply didn't fit at all. By the time this was figured out, the store was closed and the desk was partially assembled. I basically ended up using a screwdriver (the only tool I had) to widen the (metal) screw holes. Bob Villa would be appalled, but it worked and I got the desk together. Incidentally, Ellen doesn't have a screwdriver. This amazes me.

After putting the desk together came the "up" part of the evening (no, it's not what you're thinking). Ellen had mentioned bacon danish a few days ago, so I brought over the ingredients and made a batch. No pictures this time, but they came out looking just like danish and tasting just like, well, bacon danish. I'm very happy with the end result, but they're not the sort of thing you can eat a lot of unless you want to experience open-heart surgery at a young age. Still... bacon danish. A brilliant idea from concept to execution to perfection. Am I Thomas Edison, or what?

Oh, incidentally, I'm listening to Adam Sandler's cover of Werewolves of London, and I can't tell whether I like it, or whether it's the worst thing ever.

** ADDENDUM ** It's not the worst thing ever. The worst thing ever would be me covering the song, because my falsetto is gone to the point where I can't hit the "ahoooooooo!"s.
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