with the hippin' and the hoppin'

Today, After pilates and a nice lunch in the market, Brent and I headed over to Chapeters so I could pick up a notebook in which to detail my drumming excercises.

I decided on a nice Moleskine with graph paper interior. As you may already be aware, graph paper is the best paper.


Since we are both book addicts, we picked up some extra stuff. Brent has decided to dedicate the rest of his reading for the year to WW1 & WW2.

I'm unofficially dedicating mine to cultural studies and have purchased the following two books;

Bitchfest: Ten Years of Cultural Criticism from the Pages of Bitch Magazine

This one is pretty big and will probably last me a while as I only tend to read for about 30 minutes before bed.

Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman

I've read Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs and listened to the audiobook for Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story. I like that the material is familiar in nature but gives be a bit of a different perspective than I would normally have and that he links things together in a way I would never do.


So as you may have read, yesterday I went to a hip-hop thing at Suede in Kanata. It was totally weird. When we got there is wasn't very busy so we sat at a benchy place where your drinks get served to you (mixed drinks for $2.75 and they were not stingy on the booze!) As we hung out there we watched the place get packed and it became more and more obvious that NO ONE was dancing. At a club. Playing totally danceable music. IT WAS SO WEIRD.

One girl we were with stated simply that "people don't dance to hip-hop anymore". Well then what's the point of even going out. Most people didn't even seem to notice that there was music playing! They were taking videos or pictures for Facebook or playing with their cell phones.

I'm going to say this next statement fully aware of the fact that I rarely go out to clubs and that I'm relatively oblivious to these sorts of activities.

This club, despite it's swanky decor, was utterly and hopelessly lame.

Maybe it's because the dancefloor was raised and nobody wanted to be the first to go up there and bust a move?

Two of us left 'early' (12:30 - because why hang out there if we could do the exact same stuff in our own homes?) and the cabby told us that the place is pretty much just an excuse to go get drunk and into a fight.

I theorise that fights break out because these hormonal kids aren't releasing energy through dance.

Also, I ate beef for lunch and it tasted so good but my innards are mad at me.

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On this day:

In 2006 - In which I eat a wiener

In 2005 - In which I discover the folly of drinking laxative tea at work