Impressions

Every now and then the emphasis of an endeavor escapes real recognition until its end. I enjoyed a fantastic meal with my fellow journalists as we closed out a term of Imprinting. For many, it was their last Staff lunch ever, at least in an undergraduate capacity. A buttload of really great people aren't gonna be around the office anymore. Best of luck to everyone.

As the afternoon unfolded with food, drink, awards and cards I was merely enjoying myself until the gravity of the event crystalized in my mind. When I first decided to nominate myself for assistant features editor on that fateful day back in January, I was simply testing my hypothesis that I can move seemlessly between volunteer groups. After that novelty faded, I used to think that I kept working at the paper to satisfy my need to be the center of attention while keeping me busy enough to prevent my worry ridden mind from cannibalizing itself over dismal things like coop and dollars. As the staff awards were being handed out however, I realized that the main reason I love Imprint is for the incredible variety of incredible people that come together to create it. This thing called journalism is quickly becoming more than a pastime for me, you bastards are all responsible for that. Thank you.

Speaking of coop, I bought a nice suit about a year ago for the sole purpose of wearing to coop interviews. I thought it was fitting for me to wear that suit for the first time at an event celebrating the thing I did instead. I was overdressed but dammit, I deserved to be.

Jeff and I played a medley of songs about the the business and pleasure of putting our paper together. I love joke songs and my hat is off to Mr. Anstett for his talents as a humourist and singer/guitarist. I have a hunch that we have started a tradition. Woot.

Apparently I'm the cheesiest thing in Imprint. That suits me fine. I'm also the most likely to serenade female proofreaders. I should point out that I do not discriminate. I am very likely to serenade just about anybody in a 50 meter radius. Its just who I am, don't worry, you'll get sick of it soon enough.

In the last term I have learned a buttload. I read sports once, I beat arts once(I don't care what the circumstances were! It happened!), I smoked a joint that was rolled with Rebecca Temmer's Column, I even found an interesting use for my delinquint columnist, Adam Johns. It happened when I was on my way home from the leadership awards thingy(way to go Dilts!). I swung through the SLC in search a toilet. I grabbed an Imprint for reading and hoofed it up to the top floor, where I figured the john would be cleanest. It was clean. It was also out of toilet paper(even paper towel); a fact I discovered far too late. All I had was my Imprint , conveniently opened to page one of Features...

Now, I'm not saying I wiped my ass with Adam Johns. That would be childish, stupid and, extremely uncomfortable. I did however use him to keep my underpants clean on my way to TP. Dinner with Adam, anyone?