My-cellaneous

Well, I was going to do a post about mine and my friends' celebrity lookalikes, but after 30 minutes of trying to find a picture of Edward Norton with his head tilted the same way as mine, I gave up. I don't know what people are on about - even Photoshop can't make me look somewhat like him, even if some guy in Toronto seemed to genuinely mistake me for him. I can't promise what follows will be any more substantial.

I suppose a lot is going on right now, but it feels like I have nothing concrete to write here that won't be trite. I have a bunch of ideas: an homage to my recently departed grandmother, a tribute to a good friend's springtime poetry, how old I feel relative to most everyone at WLU, a diatribe on my melancholic and imminent departure from being EIC and my father's upcoming trip to Waterloo. Thusly, I'm just going to stick with an update of a more utilitarian nature.

Chappelle's Block Party: The best live-music movie I've ever seen. With the Roots as the house band for the different acts, it showed how good hip hop is when the beats and harmonies are played on live instruments as opposed to just rapping over a pre-recorded track. Of all the acts, Blackstar absolutely floored me with their mic presence. Whereas I find most rappers sound much worse at shows were they always seem to be too shouty, Talib and Mos Def sounded powerful and different, but in good way. Mos was more melodic and actually has a good voice (see: "My Umi said, shine your light on the world.") while Talib was authoritative and on point as always. Their little xylophone dingle in "Definition" is crack-addictive.

Shad last weekend: He was back at Wilf's, headlining a charity show, and was back in fine form. Did all the usual songs, some new material and a good freestyle, even managing to drop in a line about Ron Burgundy.

This St. Paddy's Day: turned out to be a total bust. The best part of it was playing soccer at dusk with a black ball on a frozen field with girls not dressed to be playing sports at all, let alone in the cold. Props to Blair and Pinchy for playing in flip flops and a skirt respectively. A word to the wise: don't follow extremely drunk people to keg parties thrown by second-years in very small homes with not enough kegs that have shitty beer in them anyway and it's cold as fuck outside but going inside sucks far, far more.

Cam's Departure: Last night was Cam's last trip up to Waterloo before he gallivants around the world for 4 whole months. We drank far too much beer at a Wilf's that was determined to close on us, and sat up singing to Cam playing guitar into the early morning. He'd gone in the morning before I could wake up to see him off, but it seemed easier to just mentally chalk up another friend as being geographically 'gone', rather than go through the seeing-off rituals that are usually a little awkward anyway, especially between guys.