Olympics in India

Friday night's Olympics opening ceremony happened to coincide with a bout of food poisoning -- or whatever the hell makes you nauseous for 48 hours straight without actually throwing up. I haven't missed an opening ceremony since 1992 -- e.g. before I was conscious of the "Olympics" -- so I tried my best to stay awake, but at 12:30 a.m. nothing remotely opening ceremony-esque was showing up on the live feed, so I left my crowd of multicultural comrades in the living room and schlepped to bed. Around 5 a.m, my roommate opened the bedroom door, plopped down on his floor mattress and fell asleep. Apparently blinding hallway light and unmistakable party sounds from the living room don't bother sleeping East Africans, but I -- with my high-and-mighty bed frame and Western standards -- was immediately jarred awake.

This whole post might be a passive-aggressive jab at my roommate, were it not for the fact that his eccentric sleeping habits allowed me to hear the unmistakable sounds of the Olympic opening ceremony from the living room. Thanks, bro!

So, with a twinkle in my eye and the spirit of the Games in my heart, I skipped down the hallway and found a pack of roommates, friends and associates watching the London march of athletes on a moderately-sized computer screen. I squeezed in between one roommate from Peru and another associate from Egypt on the couch, and commenced the gossiping and screen-shouting.

Watching the opening ceremony certainly made me proud to be American, particularly when comparing team strengths and weaknesses with my internationally diverse array of  comrades. "Oh, how many athletes does Serbia have this year? 115? Ya, America has 529, soooo....y'knowwwww..."

Really though, I was pretty lucky to be able to watch an Olympics ceremony with an incredibly diverse crew. Hearing other country's takes on the Games was interesting to say the least. Among other conclusions, I've deduced that pretty much the only time anyone in the world watches swimming is during the Olympics.

Now if I can just get my roommates to watch some Team USA basketball with me, I can really get an ego boost...

Go forth, grand athletes! Make America proud!

Frank Ocean...You Rule...

Frank Ocean...*sighhhhhhh* You first got my attention with Nostalgia, Ultra. More just the name and the mixtape cover...I wasn't really quite as much into the music at that point...but I could tell right away that you were a hip cat. Then I heard "Thinking About You." Arguably the theme song of senior year, my friend.

With "Channel Orange" -- currently everyone's go-to topic on Twitter -- it seems like you've really put yourself on the mainstream map. Or maybe I'm just overwhelmed by all the pre-album "coming-out-of-the-closet" buzz? A savvy move, to be sure...a decision that will surely move as many records as it has moved hearts.

Regardless, it's clear you're on your new-new with the album...this "Forrest Gump" song is my current shiznit.  I wouldn't have guessed I would ever like -- let alone love -- a song about man-on-man relationships. You are truly an innovator. Congratulations.

Amurica! F*** Yeah!

Happy Independence Day, everyone! People at work today were giving me handshakes and backslaps in respect to the good ol' US of A. Even my comrades from Eastern Europe granted me the indulgence of slamming the table and shouting "America!" at lunch.  I also made a fool of myself when a Slovenian girl offered me cake, and I knowingly chuckled "Aaah, for Independence Day?" It was actually for her birthday.

But dammit, I won't apologize for my patriotism! Everyone shoot off some fireworks for me!

RaP GaMe TaYLoR SWiFT!

This is my kind of hip-hop...straight irony, no filler. I guess you could say the low-fi beat, melodramatic imagery and bold clash of personalities is some sort of commentary on modern young adulthood...probably...the apathetic materialism of young adulthood. But I really just like it for RiFF RAFF. Enjoy!

"Hey, wanna hear me rap?"

In high school, I was friends with Avery Capizzi, a rapper whose claims of connections to hip-hop superstars occasionally earned him derision -- though he was bolstered by, at times, shockingly good music. Early in senior year, he began asking fellow Yorktown High School seniors to rap on his upcoming mixtape. Though many ridiculed the offer, a fair number took the opportunity to transfer our love of hip-hop to an actual product. The result -- the 703 Mixtape Vol. 1 -- was fairly professionally mixed, well-structured, and featured a smattering of awkwardly self-confident suburban teenagers spitting bars alongside a few DC rap middleweights. The response was primarily positive -- enough to spawn a sequel.

Personally, the concept of rapping excited me enough to continue in college. For friends, fraternity brothers and family, my rapping usually incited curiosity, occasionally ridicule, but eventually, accolades and encouragement. Ironically, that encouragement came right as I decided to quit. They don't love you till you're gone I guess.

It took me a while to reconcile my love -- and ability -- of rapping with the other facets of my life: school, interest in media/finance, normal friends who don't rap, etc. Considering I officially "quit," I guess you can say I never actually did figure out where to configure rap. However, as long as there are vocal-less instrumentals in this world, and small apartment parties, I will continue to approach comely females and impress them with a few well-chosen bars. How else will I keep the skill alive? Enjoy a sample below.