Chalk: the other white meat!

Colleen does an impression of me.

She won't do the impression for me.

That is one reason why Colleen and I are no longer friends.










OK, I'm kidding about not being friends anymore, but I'm not kidding about her doing an impression of me. Admittedly, I've never seen her do it, but I can think of no reason for her to lie about it. Colleen is exceedingly clever, but this sort of prank is not in her devilish repertoire.

Maybe I should start telling people I do impressions of them, but then claim a shyness about doing it in front of them. If I can get the occasional accomplice to chirp in with an "Oh yes, he totally has your mannerisms down," then I'll be in heaven.

Speaking of which, there was a line in Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin that was translated as "Heaven gives us habit instead of happiness." This last Saturday I went to see the live Metropolitan Opera broadcast of Eugene Onegin. It was amazingly good. It had all the perks of the movies (popcorn!) and all the perks of live opera (opera!) and was also its own weird nexus thing: I don't remember a cloud of stale perfume hovering over the audience when I went to see Smokin' Aces, for one thing. If you live in the civilized world, or just outside it (as I do) then it shouldn't be too hard to find a theater showing Met Opera broadcasts. I've already got my ticket to Barber of Seville on March 24th. (Note to burglars: this is yet another reason to steal my wallet.) Come on, it's only $17, ya uncultured cheapskate.

In other news, I have the urge to write mean things about people. It's been that kind of day, where all you want to do is ... write mean things about people.

So here we go:

1. Vladimir Putin: Poisoning enemies aside, he doesn't seem like a particularly nice man.
   
2. That kid who wrote an opinion piece for this week and insisted on hovering over my shoulder and arguing with me about a comma. I took out the comma just to get him away from me. He's a first-time writer so I thought it would be inappropriate to drive him away too early. I'm going to put that comma back in before the issue goes to press.
3. The ad guy at our paper: Today was the first day I was allowed to help lay out ads. It should be done by me, but he's doen it alone for years. Today I saw why. For one thing, I showed up on time and he wasn't ready (though he initially wanted to do it on Friday, and since when has not having a file ever stopped him?), and for another thing, he didn't wear deodorant. He's not an old guy, like the adorable Paul Slachta at the McGill Tribune. No, our guy is in his forties and should be looking for a job that offers a pension, because the clock's ticking.
4. Me. I'm a bad person. Look at how much I wrote about that useless douche in #3!
5. Me again, because I haven't emailed Trish or Leah in ages.
6. [If you could help me out with #6, I'd appreciate it.]
7. You, for writing/not writing #6.