Yesterday was a bit of an up-and-down day. Writing yesterday’s entry put me in sort of a sour mood, and so as I got ready for work, I just offered up a prayer that God would help me set that aside as I worked to not let my bad mood influence my attitude there. I had to check the bus schedules and such to find out which bus went where at what time, and so I found out that the 12:00 bus would get me to the Brantford Mall at about 12:07. I considered taking that one, but since I started work at 12:15, I didn’t want to take the chance that the bus would be slow like it sometimes is. So I took the 11:30 bus instead, and got there with about half an hour to spare before having to work. That was okay. I just went into Wal-mart for a little while and looked in the electronics section. Killing time is really the only time you’ll ever catch me “shopping” without buying anything – unless you count not being able to find what I’m looking for, but that’s different.
At about noon, I walked over to Cineplex and went upstairs to change and such. I had my uniform in a backpack, so I got ready and made myself look amazing before going back downstairs. I still had a little bit of time before I started, so I went in and wrote down my hours for next week. Then I signed in, and things got rolling. I was supposed to be trained by Evelyn today, but she wasn’t there for some reason, so Scott showed me around instead. It was quite simple. I basically had to do a pre-open check of all the theatres and such, then open the doors to the theatres as well. That took about five or ten minutes at most, and then I had nothing to do. Once we opened, there must have been about four people in each theatre at the most. So Scott was showing me how to do stuff I would likely not have to do – stuff like changing posters and everything. It was a really easy day. I cleaned all the theatres by myself, since Scott was sorting through posters, but since there were so few people in the theatres, it was simple to clean them. I’m sure I almost fell asleep standing up or something.
Anyways, I got out right at 4:30 PM, then I went upstairs to change back into my regular clothes. I suppose in that time, the 4C bus went by, so I ended up waiting for half an hour. I was actually in an alright mood, just thirsty. Then the next bus came, and on its sign it said, “Not in service.” A couple other people who were waiting there asked when the next bus would be along, and the driver told them in about twenty minutes or so. That made me a little mad. But I figured there was nothing I could do, so getting mad wouldn’t fix anything. All I did was walk over to Wal-mart and buy a bottle of Pepsi from the pop machines there, then walk back and sit on the bench outside listening to my music. I’m glad I thought to bring my mp3 player. It ended up that I waited for the bus ride home for about an hour. I finally got home, and as I walked inside, my dad met me at the door and asked, “Why didn’t you just call for a ride? You didn’t have to take the bus home.” I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know that he was going to be home by that time. He had told me to take the bus, so I did. Whatever. I wouldn’t really have wanted a ride home anyways. I didn’t want to talk to anybody at that point. I wasn’t in a bad mood, but I just didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I was still mad at myself, I guess.
After supper sometime, I got a phone call from Jeff, who asked if anyone was doing anything. I told him that no one was doing anything that I knew of, and he said that he’d see me tomorrow then. I didn’t offer to do anything with him because as I said, I didn’t really want to talk to anyone anyways. I was looking forward to a nice quiet evening alone with my thoughts. Then my mom came downstairs and told me something that my dad hadn’t mentioned. He had gone to the body shop to get the front bumper of the car fixed, and had asked the guy there for an estimate on the back bumper that I had scraped up. The guy said that unless he wanted to replace the bumper (which my dad said he didn’t), to fix the damage, it would come to about $350. When my mom told me that, I just said, “Oh.” She went back upstairs, and I sat there letting that sink in. Here I was thinking that it would be at least in the thousand-dollar range, and it came to $350. I mean, that’s still a chunk out of either my or my parents’ bank account, but still – it’s nothing like what I expected. Right about then, I guess I forgave myself. I still think I made a stupid mistake, and I’m still not allowed to drive, but I’m better about it now. It was an expensive mistake, but surely not as expensive as I had expected it to be.
A few minutes later, my mom came back downstairs and mentioned that Melissa had also called. I asked her when she had done that, and she replied that she didn’t know. So I assumed that my sister had answered the phone then when my parents weren’t home yet. I called her house, and Becca answered, saying that Melissa was out coaching the little kiddies at soccer practice. Then she mentioned that she had her cell phone there, and proceeded to try and find the number for me. I kind of thought that was strange, considering that I was just going to tell her to have Melissa call me back when she got home, but Becca went and got the number, and I wrote it down. I double-checked on the first three numbers by repeating, “751?” She said yes, it was 751. So I called the number, and the automated lady’s voice came up saying, “The number you have called is not in service.” I thought there for a moment, then tried again, thinking maybe I had punched it in wrong. Same thing. So I called the Staats’ house back and double-checked the number with Mrs. Staats. As she repeated the number to me, she said “771” at the beginning. So I just said thank you and proceeded to dial the correct number this time. The phone rang, and no one answered it. I tried again ten minutes later or so, and still no one answered. Sheesh.
A little while later, she called me back and asked if I wanted to hang out at her house at 8:30. I stalled for a minute, made sure that I was actually in a good enough mood, and then said sure. I would have driven over, but I ended up walking since the driving option is out of the picture right now. It’s a good thing she doesn’t live on the other end of town or something. Anyways, I got to the Staats’ place, and was suddenly bombarded by about three or four people talking to me all at once. They were basically laughing at me right as I walked in the door. Why? Well, Melissa and her friend from SportChek (I forget her name, but I’m horrible at names, so you’ll have to bear with me) had gotten A Walk to Remember to watch. I forget exactly what I said to the people laughing at me, but I think I said something witty. Mrs. Staats laughed, anyway, so I think that’s a good thing. I sat down in the middle of the couch beside Melissa and Zack. Ezekiel, who’s in love with me or something, sat down right in between Melissa and me. I just sort of chuckled to myself; he’s a cool kid anyways, so I didn’t mind. At least he doesn’t run around screaming like a banshee like some kids – he just won’t leave you alone, that’s all.
We started watching the movie, and eventually Ezekiel and Zack had to go to bed, so I had a bit more room – I could actually breathe, in other words. That’s when I started getting tired and falling asleep. The movie wasn’t that amazing, and as the girl started singing, I fell asleep for a few minutes. I don’t think I missed much, though. Near the end of the movie, I started critiquing it. This is done mainly to annoy all females in the room, and I do it with much pride and pleasure. I didn’t think it was such a great movie. I mean, this guy does all this stuff for a girl, even marrying her, although he knows she’s going to die. Now, I guess you could say that he was in love and all that stuff, so perhaps it’s not his fault. However, if I had been that girl, I would have refused all that stuff that he was doing. I mean, if I knew I was going to die, I wouldn’t want people spending all their money on me – it’d just be a waste. I’d want them to spend time with me and be with me, yes, but not spend a whole ton of money on me that they could use to get on with their lives after I died. Maybe that sounds kind of stupid, but it was obvious that she cared about him, so why didn’t she care about how he was wasting his money on her? He even married her, and that means he either wasted his own money or her father’s money – since the father of the bride usually pays for it. Besides, she said that she didn’t tell people she had cancer since she didn’t want people acting weird around her – but yet she let him do all these things for her as soon as he found out she was dying. That part didn’t make sense. It may have been “romantic” and all that crap, but it wasn’t all that realistic. I wrote it off as a woman’s fairy tale type story, and admitted that I’d never understand it.
Soon after the movie was over, my mom came to pick me up. She had said 10:30 PM, and she certainly was there by that time. I would have complained, except that she had to wake up at a fairly early hour the next day, so she’d want to get to bed. Complaining wouldn’t get me anywhere except on her bad side. Anyways, I suppose it was a pretty good night, although I could have done without the whole chick flick thing. I guess it was a fairly good chick flick, though – as good as chick flicks can be, of course. I won’t say it was a good movie, but if your level of expectation is so low that you have to watch a chick flick, then your standards of what a “good” movie is are so low that this movie, A Walk to Remember, could be considered quite a good movie. If that makes sense, you have a very high IQ and are probably male. As for the allegations against me for being sexist, that’s certainly not true – it’s natural to pity the less fortunate. Heh.
Before I get slaughtered by mobs of angry females, I should probably finish this off. Let’s just sum it all up by saying that yesterday was a day of ups and downs. Today should be a bit better, since I’m a lot less angry with myself. Now I just have to find something to do so I don’t get bored. Otherwise I might just have to jump off my roof with an umbrella to see if it’ll slow my fall. Why? Well, because I’m bored, of course.