These Words


“I Tried to focus my attention, But I feel so A-D-D, I need some help, some inspiration (But it’s not coming easily)”
-These Words, Natasha Bedingfield


Do you ever realize that you are horribly out of place in some public, social gathering place? Case in point: Me + Caribana weekend + hip Hop/R&B music + NBA post-game party= how the Hell did I end up here?

Out with the roommates (who do enjoy hip hop, mind you) at Original Motorcycle for some post-NBA bash. I wouldn’t know an NBA player if he hit me in the face with a basketball. I just assumed that all the really tall dudes must play a sport I don’t care enough to understand.


“It's who I am, it's what I do, And I was gonna lay it down for you”


Obviously oblivious to the hip hop scene (what the Hell is crunk? More importantly, why would you want to dance to that?), I stuck out a bit. For example, I’m white. I recognized only the lame songs that they play on mainstream radio- ie. Destiny’s Child, Ciara, Eminem, et al. Still, an amusing time out with the roommates and friend because they are fabulous ladies, although I doubt we’ll ever see eye to eye when it comes to music. The highlight of the evening was a visit to Subway where a table of “gentlemen” (read: punk-ass drunks) tried to pick us up. That’s right. Subway is the new place to meet men. Drunk, ugly men.


Thanks hip hop club and NBA dudes, but I think I’ll stick to my Zaphod’s-esque (best club in Ottawa!) alternative rock scene.


OVERRATED: NBA parties. Let them all wear uniforms so I can tell who they are. Better yet, I should just stay home. Party on, Wayne.
UNDERRATED: Pants. That’s right hip hoppers and clubbers. Pants will do wonders for you. None of that barely-there skank belts… I mean, skirts.



I think I’m just getting old. And more cynical. Who’d have thought it even possible?


“I’m getting off my stage, The curtains pull away, No hyperbole to hide behind”