Seasonal music

• The Killers, Counting Crows, Hem, Doves, Bright Eyes, Drive By Truckers, Sufjan Stevens, The Mendoza Line, and Mason Jennings remind me of fall.
• The Arcade Fire, Grandaddy, Elliot Smith, Blur, The Strokes, Azure Ray, Okkervil River, Yo La Tengo and the Walkmen remind me of winter.
• Talking Heads, Ted Leo, Talib Kwelli, Pavement, The Magnetic Fields, AC Newman, Outkast and Otis Redding remind me of spring.
• The Shout Out Louds, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Wyclef Jean, Sublime, The Coup, Desparecidos, Modest Mouse, and the Gorillaz remind me of summer.

I'm not really sure why, but I like it.

President Bush

President Bush is on a five week "working vacation" at his ranch in Texas. US troops are being killed daily in Iraq. The Iraqi Constitution is a joke. Afghanistan-do we still have troops in that country, I can't keep who we've invaded straight anymore. Hurricane Katrina has made New Orleans look like it's Christmas in Thailand (remember the Tsunami, didn't think you did). Healthcare for kids, old people, regular people on hard times- oh yeah we don't have that either. Luckily the budget is balanced, wait, it's not even close. Isn't an unbalanced budget not really a budget at all? Meanwhile our President is having a leisurely bike ride with Lance Armstrong. His day consisted of, and this is from the White House press report, a meeting with Condoleza Rice, a nap, an evening little league game, fishing and some reading. Webster's defines a vacation as "A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation, especially one with pay granted to an employee." I'm not really clear on what a "working vacation" is, they didn't have a definition. The audacity. Today he was away from the ranch. He was in California talking about hard times for people in New Orleans. Hey here's an idea- go to New Orleans or somewhere within the proximity of where the Hurricane hit to talk about it. Shouldn't this guy be stressed out or something? Shouldn't he go back to the White House to figure out how the fuck we should get out of Iraq, what we should do about three crazy countries (Pakistan, Iran and N. Korea) developing nuclear weapons. Shouldn't he be really stressed out that New Orleans basically doesn't exist any more. We saw him shed a tear on 9/11 and people loved him. Anyone can shed a tear, I did, and I'm really really cynical. I wanna see him back in the White House where he belongs.
So Christian conservatives in Southern states that got this man elected have accomplished what? Women are still getting abortions. Gay people can't get married- but they're still fucking! We can still say "under God" in the pledge but let me tell you-that had nothing to do with an election and everything to do with a custody battle, I just briefed that case. We elected the man because he told us we were going to hunt down the terrorists and kill them where they live-in IRAQ! No, Mr. President, there's no we about it. 18, 19 and 20 year old kids are hunting down the terrorists. You're fishing in Texas. Now let me get the logic of hunting them down in their country-they pose this huge threat to us in the middle east? How about we let them live in their country and keep them from getting to ours. Wouldn't that be more logical and fiscally responsible? No we gotta kill them and keep them from getting here. It just saddens me that this man can be on a working vacation in what is one of America's most difficult times. But what makes me the most sad is that no one cares, no one's doing anything about it. Fucking Fox News still loves the guy. These people can't possibly be that stupid to really think he's doing a good job can they. Trent Lott, the former Senate majority leader, doesn't even think he's doing a good job. I hope people take this president's actions out on the Republican party in 2008. I'm gonna be crazy liberal by 2008-three years of law school and a couple more years of Bush, wow. Oh, and wouldn't it be nice if we had a President that said "Going to" instead of "gonna" and "them" instead of "'em" or "racism" instead of "racistism". Enunciate.
Lyric of the Day:
"You might be a ghost but you ain't Houdini mother fucker."
-Ghostface Killer, perhaps the worlds most underrated rapper.

Adult?

It's weird to think that I'm closer to being a father than I am to being a 9th grader. Parts of high school seem so fresh and clear in my mind while the prospect of being a father is so foreign and strange and life altering. The thought that I'm closer to filing patents at 150 an hour than I am to stocking shelves at Kroger for 8 and hour is shocking. Having money, and adequate money at that rate is bizarre, almost unjust. The notion that I'm closer to buying a piece of property than I am to applying for housing at UGA is scary. Life goes by so fast, especially the care free years, but I was never a care free kind of guy. I never liked not having responsibility. When I lacked responsibilities I was reckless, unproductive and often miserable. It's conventional to believe that your young and care free years are your happiest. After your early 20's it just goes downhill. I don't think so for me. I have more responsibility right now than I've ever had in my entire life. I don't have a million friends, I don't go out that often, but I'm happier than I've been in a while. It makes me think, maybe, that my happiness is related to my productivity, my responsibility to myself. Now perhaps this is superficial happiness but I really don't think so. I think the happiest days of my life are ahead of me, not behind. I'm sick of the notion that undergrad is the best time, because for me, much of it wasn't that great. I certainly had my high points, but I had just as many very low points. I saw a professional looking business man carrying a toddler today. I looked at the guy and he wasn't that much older than I was. It was kind of a scary moment to think I'd be that guy soon. I can't wait though, I think I'll be a happy father. Guess I should find a girl first.
Lyric of the Day: (A disclaimer, this lyric has nothing to do with me or my life, I just like it)
"Happiness is such hard work, and it gets harder every day
And it can kill you, but no one wants to be that tacky about it,
If you spin fast enough than maybe the broken pieces of your heart will stay together
But some things I’ve seen lately make me doubt it."
-The Dismemberment Plan

Organic Food

I don't get the whole organic thing. I get the fact that people like to buy organic because it's typically fresher, being that there's no preservatives and in it's very nature it has to be fresher. That's fine, I will occasionally treat myself to an organic peach or apple at the local market think wow, this is good, I'm doing a good thing. That is until I get to checkout and realize for the price of two peaches I could've gotten a fucking filet laced with juicy Bovine Growth Hormone. I would've enjoyed the filet much more. Nevertheless I get the freshness factor. The other day though, I was standing in line at this high end grocery store by my house and I saw this woman pick up "Organic Living" magazine. By the way, the people that work at this magazine should shoot themselves, what a stupid fucking concept. Anyways, on the cover it says "Raising Healthy Children in an Increasingly Toxic World." And I'm thinking that's a little outrageous. Our "Increasingly Toxic World." What the world where people's life expectancy is like 94? Or the world where, because we're devoid of any other life threatening or even life style threatening disease, we worry day and night about getting the flu? We develop shots for something that's basically a really nasty cold! The most frustrating thing though is the same people that are Mr. and Mrs. buy everything organic, don't poison our kids are probably the same people that are just absolutely outraged that we spend money on war when there are people everywhere starving. Yeah, let me tell you, organic farming-that's what's gonna feed the world. No, what's going to feed the world are genetically engineered, insecticide laced tomatoes that grow to be as big as your head with one third the water organic tomatoes need. The hypocrisy of people is just outstanding. There's very little in the world that frustrates me more than the reasoning and morals of the extreme right. The one thing that might bother me more though is the opinions of the extreme left. How about this, you try and feed the world organically and I'll help scientists patent genetically engineered seeds that'll grow corn in the desert. You write your article in "Organic Weekly" and I'll write my patents and we'll see who does more good. Twenty bucks says that why you're talking about the perils of pesticide I'll be helping feed Sudan. Our increasingly toxic world. Give me a fucking break. She bought the magazine.
Lyric of the Day
"I will be your accident, if you will be my ambulance. I will be your screaching crash if you will be my crutch and cast. I will be your one more time, if you will be my one last chance."
-TV on the Radio

What I like.

-I like that I see black and hispanic people on the bus reading text books. It's so rare at the University of Georgia.
-I like listening to Saul Williams, The Coup, Outkast and Rage Against the Machine on the way to class every morning. Something about listening to music against the man makes me feel better about my training to become the man.
-I like sitting on the tenth floor of the law school building and looking out. For some reason I find even the most mundane and ugly sky scrapers interesting.
-I like people that aren't afraid to admit they're scared of the city and of law school.
-I like that the new Kanye West album got 5 stars in Rolling Stone and I really like that I have a Virgin Records on the way to class.
-I like Goose Island Beer.
-I like Constitutional Law.
-I like watching a movie that I've seen a million times, before bed. It's soothing in the same way music is.

My first night out, that wasn't fun.

Went out tonight with my roomate Kristen and a group of her friends. Some of the same kids I went out with last weekend but tonight I just didn't have a great time. I'm not really sure why, everyone that was out was perfectly friendly, didn't really treat me as an outsider or anything. It was just one of those nights where you feel like you're on the outside of something good, but the way in is just way too complicated. The way in seemed impossible or, at the very least, improbable. The risks of getting into that group of friend entails tolerating awkward silences when you made a joke that would've been funny to your friends back home but just wasn't to these kids. Getting into that group would've meant revealing some baggage, talking about friends back home, shedding light on some of the problems I left behind, putting myself out on a limb I just didn't want to be on right now. Getting in with there group would've meant taking that chance that is so difficult to take: the chance that they just won't like you. Or vice versa. People have inside jokes, people have histories together, mutual friends, mutual political ideals, can gossip about the same people. None of that scares me, none of that keeps me on the outside of them. What keeps me on the outside is the fear of not being liked. It's so simple, it's so fucking middle school. But it is what it is. I'm a week into school and don't have anybody to go out with tommorrow night (Friday), and it's a little scary.
I've thought through the reasons I'm scared, the reasons I'm worried, the reasons I'm lonely and, at moments, sad. The strangest thing though, I'm still pretty happy. I realized tonight on the short walk home from being the "outsider" that I've been on the outside before. Tim, Joe, Tony, Jamal, they grew up together. They were friends before I met them that first night freshman year. They were older, they had inside jokes, mutual friends and experiences and I still became amazing friends with them. Those kids ended up some of my closest friends, despite me being an outsider. Locos. Some of those kids had waited tables for years together. They had so many memories of blurry drunken nights, hook ups and hangovers that I never believed I'd be a part of them. They had grown up together, and yet a couple months later I was not the guy on the outside, but a central and integral part of a solid and loyal group of friends. The real fact of the matter is not that I'm an outsider. I'm an INSIDER. I'm the biggest insider, with Locos and with Tim, Tony, Geoff and the gang. Despite those phenomenal, lifelong friendships, none of those guys will be here tommorrow to go out and have a few beers. That's scary, really scary. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll end up with a solid group of friends here in Chicago. It took time with everybody back home and it'll take time here, but it'll happen. I think the past couple of weeks has taught me a lot. I think back in Athens I had this notion that stress, anger, anxiety or loneliness meant you HAD to be unhappy. It doesn't. Tonight, I'm lonely but I'm not unhappy, I'm...lonely. That doesn't really mean anything. Tommorrow I'll get to school, find the couple guys I've been hanging out with a lot, bitch about the reading, and forget that last night I was lonely. Hell, we might even get some beers after class.

Getting Called On

I hadn't raised my hand yet. There's like 80 people in my section, which means I have the same 80 people in 4 out of 5 of my classes. Of 80 people there were about 3 guys, who really, really liked to raise their hands. Now, it was quite troubling to realize just how fucking much this annoyed me. It annoyed me for two reasons. The first is that what these guys were saying was so rarely a good answer that discussing what they were talking about amounted to a waste of time and energy. The second reason it annoyed me was because you have to believe these guys are trying to impress someone. I'm doubtful they were trying to impress the professor and if they were, they were failing. My guess is these three frat-boy, political discussion at lunch leading, tablet laptop carrying, credential dropping, collar popping, overachievers were trying to impress the beautiful coeds in our section. Luckily these bright young women of our section were not undergrad freshmen and weren't in the least bit intoxicated (and therefore) were unimpressed by these fuckers' antics. When one of the more attractive women in the class, who happened to be sitting next to me, whispered "put your hand down" under her breath, a wave of satisfaction swept over me. At least I'm surrounded by intelligent people that know that these kids points are pointless.
In my final class of the day, about half way through, the professor had probably acknowledged 25 raised hands in the debate on a particular legal theory. Some of these hand-raisers had decent points that furthered the conversation. Most, however, recieved firm criticism of what they had to say about the topic. Some of this criticism went like this. "No, you're wrong." "That's completely missing the point." "I just told you this discussion had nothing to do with that." My favorite though is when a person talks for about 45 seconds to make a point and the professor just says, "No," and moves on to the next hand. Somewhere in the middle of this there was a lull. He posed another question and I heard, "What do you think about that Mr. Smola?" There's that initial wave of fear when you get called on- you have to rethink what he's just said to avoid looking like an idiot and must nearly instantly recall what points have already been made. I did this, answered the question, and he said "That's exactly right." Fantastic, I made it through my first question, which, I'll admit, was pretty easy. Two minutes of lecture followed and he asked me another question. Got it right, two minutes of lecture, another question. Is this guy serious? At one point I offered up a grotesquely diplomatic answer which, as soon as it came out of my mouth I knew was going to get ripped. He, kindly said "You should be a politician, you know I can't possibly criticize or even comment on that reply, try again." By the end I had answered 6 progressively harder questions correctly. Survivor of my first encounter with the Socratic method. You don't have to drop credentials or try really really hard to impress. You graduated number 3 in your class from Nebraska-it is NEBRASKA. You're one of the few liberals in the midwest and fought for gay rights in Oklahoma city-congratulations. You're incredibly capable of making mediocre points in class-lovely. Try, once, to be the quiet, contemplative guy in the back that when called on is dead on. And for God sakes put your fucking hand down.

That old feeling.

My shoulders are so tense I feel like the knots are up to my ears. My stomach is a little queasy from a day long extended by periodic doses of caffeine. My eyes are tired and slowly beginning to blur. If I stop for a second, I notice that I'm grinding my teeth and my jaw is clenched... hard. Passages are no longer making sense and warrant two, sometimes three, rereads. My hands hurt from typing, my eyes hurt from reading, my back hurts from carrying 50 pounds books all over the city and my legs hurt from working out. Bed is close, but still a few hours away. Damn I love that feeling of being challenged again, or perhaps for the first time. Something new, exciting, frightening, interesting, stimulating and difficult has arrived and it couldn't have gotten here in my life fast enough. Funny, the thing I've noticed about my teachers is the scariest, are the most interesting. The most intimidating happen to be the best speakers. The hardest, are those with the most compelling arguments. It's a sliding scale- the nicer the guy, the less I care about what they're saying. I guess that's the cutthroat nature in all lawyers-even professors. The more imposing and firm you are, the better you are. That being said, two days of class has contained some of the most stimulating debate I've ever experienced, and I really really like to argue. The teachers are, for the most part, amazing speakers, rarely if ever making a factual statement. Literally the entire class is them questioning. Law, unlike genetics, doesn't seem to be a study of answers but questions. I'm looking forward to it.

People

So this weekend I had the opportunity to do a number of things for the first time. First, I entertained my parents Friday and Saturday. Friday we went to a fine Italian restaurant with absolutely great food (Trattoria No. 10), for the record. It was the first real restaurant experience I've had in Chicago and it was rather exciting. Saturday was the Chicago Air and Water Show which was kind of cool, especially with the great view I have from my apartment. Saturday, after my parents left, I hung out with my roomate Kristen and her friends for the first time. They had consumed considerably more alcohol by the time I got rolling and catching up was basically impossible. It was a cool group of girls though. We ate tapas and then, on a whim, made smores on the deck of our apartment. Something only girls would do. My other roomate Evan, his girlfriend, and some others joined us in drinking and eating smores. You wouldn't believe what chocolate, marshmellow, graham crackers and Sierra Neveda Summer tastes like. As I sat there on the deck on the relatively mild summer night and listened to and interjected in the five conversations running I got really reminiscent. These kids weren't that different from the kids back home. Everyone still had, basically the same problems. Everyone wishes things would be better in their life, no matter how great their life seems. People are people, whether you're in a city or in good old Athens. I found myself relating to some people for the first time, some people took me under their wing. They were a little older, a little more hardened by city life, but still not as cynical as I am. I still possess the number one spot in that category. Too many hours in the restaurant business. Life starts, ends rather, for what seems like the fifteenth time tommorrow. First day of this, first day of that, moving day, it's all blending together. Monday just happens to be the first day of REAL class. Ooh the Socratic method. I wanna get called on. I know why Section 13 of the Federal Judiciary Act of 1789 was declared unconstitutional. Bring it.

First Assignment

Just finished my first law school assignment. Wow was it exciting. Marbury v. Madison, the case in which the Supreme Court established that yes, it can review cases in which a federal law may be in violation or some act may be unconstitutional. It has the power to review Executive and Legislative actions for their Constitutionality. At least I think that's what it established. It's crazy, excititing. You wouldn't believe it. 10 pages of dense, dense text. Pages filled with reasoning that is so simple it becomes mind numbing, and kind of complicated. The one thing I've taken away from my case reading (not the one thing really but rather the one "life-lesson for people who don't give a shit about law school and having to take ONE huge cumulative final) is that the law is SIMPLE. It's not complex in it's very nature but is complex in it's syntax and it's language. I really think, that the one class that would've greatly helped me in this venture would be an upper level Linguistics class or perhaps a Philosophy class in Logic. Hell upper level French would've helped more than Genetic Models. Regardless, law text is incredibly intimidating, dense, and wordy. It is analytical, not abstract. It's more like Biochem than it is like Organic Chem, which I'm grateful for. As for real life, tommorrow the parents come into town for a day or so, Sunday is my fantasy football draft and Monday is the start of class, real class. As opposed to fake class. God, I need a fucking life.

Orientation

So, for the past two days I've been stuck in auditoriums listening to Deans, Associate Deans, Professors, Associate Professors, and 3rd floor janitors talk to me about being a 1L. Just for the record I think titles such as "1L's" are pretty fucking stupid. They all seem to have their individual takes on the experience on what lies ahead of us. Luckily they all have a "majority" (see I'm already a god forsaken lawyer) opinion that it will be the worst, hardest, most stressful, complicated, life altering, exciting year of our lives. I'm not gonna lie, it's about as far from the University of Georgia's undergrad orientation as you can get. I remember, just a few years ago, being that naive young 18 year old that had to sneak around, drinking on weekends, scared to death of the consequences. Then there was UGA's Orientation. What I took away from that was essentially, this: The next four years are great. There is tons of drinking, fucking, smoking and occasionally we read. DePaul Law's Orientation: the next 200-250 days will be terrible. After that things will be bad. In your third year, things will get a little better. Then, you'll get a phenomenal job making like 100,000 a year. Half of this will go to student loans, one quarter to living expenses and the other quarter into a mutual fund. Don't worry, you won't need any spending money, you don't have time to spend money. The antithesis of the American Dream. Having money you can't spend. God, that must be painful.
To be fair; We had some great speakers. Just about every dean or professor made me laugh, was charasmatic, had something helpful to say and, in some strange way made me want to be a lawyer. Unfortunately, I'm not sure whether they made me want to be a lawyer because I'm genuinely interested in the law or, more likely, because I'm envious of their charisma. Either way, I suppose they motivated me, one way or the other.
To the logistics and reality of orientation. There are cliques as soon as you arrive. People already know each other. People had mutual friends at the University of Michigan, Nebraska, U of I, Michigan State, or Wisconsin. Being from out of town you (and by you I mean I) are already at a disadvantage. Additionally, most law school students aren't very cool. Sure, people have interesting backgrounds, can probably talk politics or college football but they just really aren't your type. Not like your friends back home. The only thing worse than sitting alone at lunch at orientation is thinking that, if you befriend one of these people, you might have to spend the next TEN lunches with them. I'm not saying I'm mister fucking personality, but some of these people are hopeless. So, in 8-10 hours each day, I've found two guys, both of whom seem pretty normal and easy to get along with. One of the two guys suggests that between our "study skills" session at orienation and the "faculty party" we go to a bar on the first floor of the Law School. Great, I could use a beer. And here, here, in this dark, windowless, smoky, shady bar I find MY people. I, we, find a table of about 10 first years, kicking back drinking pitchers. One dude drinks three gin and tonics in the time it takes me to drink one Amstel Light. Everyone seems very friendly. Even the girl at the far end of the table that I know is a bitch, acts friendly. We decide to head to the party as a little group, making us the largest group of two day old friends in the whole place. We head straight to the drink tent, put back a couple of light beers and switch to Pinot when the beer gets down to the really crappy stuff (MGD). These people are the shit, just a bunch of borderline, high achieving alcoholics like myself. I feel right at home. So at home it's scary. So at home that I remembered I left HOME to come somewhere that didn't feel like I felt. Somewhere I didn't have to drink. Every. Night. Really good times and really bad times have a tendency to blend, to become a gray area, at least for me. There are occasions I look back on where I can't remember whether it was a great night or a terrible night. I did realize tonight though that, although I was having a good time, times like this could lead to really really bad times, quick. I left a life similar to the one I had already started. The lesson I took was this. Go out with these people, on FRIDAYS. Outside of that, save it. It's not worth it, you wanted out of this. I think, possibly. It's possible I wanted out of this. I should want out. Yeah.

Track List

Life is like a tracklist:
1. "Hounds of Love"- The Futureheads- Grow up, fall in love.
2. "Song of Our So-Called Friend"- Okkervil River- Be a good friend.
3. "Blow"-Lincoln- I'm asking Saint Jude (patron Saint of desperate situations) for a pretty please.
4. "Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone"- The Walkmen- Yes, everyone who pretended is. Most people aren't though.
5. "Act III, Scene Two"- Saul Williams- This wakes me up almost every day.
6. "Something"- Sam Prekop- Beautiful.
7. "I'll Believe In Anything"- Wolf Parade- I just wanna believe in SOMETHING.
8. "Very Loud"- The Shout Out Louds- Cause I wanna have a girl to build buildings high for.
9. "Make You Feel That Way"- Blackalicious- A Hip Hop song about happiness? What?
10. "The Lengths"- The Black Keys- Because when that girl from "Very Loud" breaks up with me I'm gonna play this for her.
11. "Chicago"-Sufjan Stevens- Cause I'm in Chicago, and this song makes me happy. Although I don't really believe in omens, this album, Illinoise, was announced when I was deciding on schools and I want it to be an omen.
12. "Evening of the Day"- Supergrass- It talks about a view and I've got the best view in Chi-town.
13. "Metro Pictures"- The Mendoza Line- The best cosmopolitan-alt-country-indie-chamber pop-rock-bluegrass-crossover band EVER. A great song though.

The Weekend

Well my first weekend in Chicago was pretty good. Went out on Friday to one of my roomates cousins house for a little pre-bar party. Strange, it seems like just yesterday I was paying five dollars for a plastic cup at shitty apartment parties. Now I'm in a city at some swank apartment building sipping a gin and tonic or amstel light and eating chips, organic salsa, and miniature sandwiches. I feel like a real live grownup! I actually feel much less like a grownup and more just, old. I realized a couple other things this weekend. Saturday I had a wicked hangover. Hangovers in a place where you don't know anyone are much worse than the hangovers I used to get when I'd have to work at Locos the next morning. There's some degree of comfort in knowing that everyone around you is hungover. I didn't really have that on Saturday. I suppose it's just a case of misery loves company. I also realized that, in all likelihood, I'll never work a blue collar job again. The idea of never working a real job where you get dirty and sweat and are physically exhausted at the end of the day was kind of depressing. I loved jobs like that. I don't really know why, I guess there's just a very different type of satisfaction that comes from getting through a Friday night dinner rush. Something tells me filing my first patent isn't gonna give me that thrill, that sense of accomplishment. Maybe it's just the people that come with jobs like that, the characters. The debaucherous behavior thats inevitable with blue collar work. I'm not going to see that stuff at a firm or a corporation. It was weird to think that the possibility of my returning to a life like that is a pipe dream. Usually people think of pipe dreams in the complete opposite way. Oh yeah, you're gonna be a lawyer, what a pipe dream. I'm all switched around now. Granted, I wouldn't wanna cook or stock shelves for my entire life. Surely it'd get old eventually. But damn, I loved it while I did it. Hopefully I'll make enough money to own a restaurant, and maybe I'll get a taste of blue collar life again. Or maybe I'll get so sick of working for the man that I'll retire to some small town in New England and just cook at some touristy seafood place. We'll see. I'm definetly going to miss it. Definetly going to miss them.

Bored

Okay so now I'm going stir crazy, it being five days before orientation and having NOTHING to do. I wish I knew more people in this town, but alas, I don't for the time being. Did meet a dude at the gym that is a first year at Northwestern, so that was nice. Never have I ever...wanted school to start so damn bad.

Accomplishments or Lack Of

Things to do today:
1. Obtain Student ID
2. Have the remainder of Federal and Access Group loans held at financial aid offices so that I can open a checking account.
3. See the Toulouse Lautrec exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago.
4. Find a good indie record shop.
5. Perhaps, make a friend.
6. Go see Broken Flowers.
7. Work out.
8. Cook dinner-not waste my money eating out- budgets blow.
Well I didn't get any of the fun stuff (3-6) done but I did get all the business stuff done. I also worked out and cooked dinner. Not bad for someone that would usually spend the first 12 hours of the day working and the last four hours drinking, heavily. Pretty all around boring day but I feel healthier and happier than I have in a while. I fucking love having some responsibility again. Not responsibility in the sense that I have to make sure the money at work is correct at the end of the night but responsibility in the sense that my day, week, month, semester, year and career is now in my hands. My success or my failure is based on very few outside factors and that really is a great feeling. My happiness will be a reflection of how hard I work for it. I have a great apartment, two roomates who seem to be quite cool, I'm in at a decent law school, financial aid is in place, I love the city. Everything else, the friends, perhaps a relationship, a profession-that will fall into place. I hope.

Settled Finally

My mom and I arrived at O'Hare at about 10AM Saturday morning. We had checked four large rubbermaid containers that, sadly, contained all of my earthly possesion within them. It's kind of depressing knowing that in 22 years you've accumulated only enough stuff to fill four rubbermaid containers. Amazing really, how compact we can make our lives. Regardless, we lugged the four containers to an Avis rental place and loaded them into the rented SUV. We continued our journey with a stop at Ikea. The place is amazing. We fit all my possesions from Georgia, plus every piece of furniture I could possibly need from Ikea all into this Suburban Utility Vehicle. I know they're bad for the environment but I couldn't have cared less at this point. It was a blessing that my dad wasn't there. I know he would've liked to have been but the entire process would, without a doubt, have drove him insane. The first half of the move was quite smooth. When we arrived at my new apartment things got bad quite quickly. The doorman informed us that, not only had my roomates failed to leave permission to allow me to enter the apartment, but that there was no moving in on weekends. This was, obviously, a huge setback. Eventually with much convincing, a near bribe, and a call to the building manager, the doorman allowed us to move my stuff in at about 7pm. Seven hours, six beers and a bottle of Chardonnay later, my mom and I had put everything together. Bleary eyed we went to bed. Funny, I had to sleep on the couch my very first night in the apartment, but she is my mom, she did help a lot and certainly deserved the bed.
The next day we went back to Ikea, in the suburbs and bought a few knicknacks, couple things at Target, a few school supplies. We spent most of the early evening putting some things together and putting the finishing touches. The place looked considerably better than when we got there and I was quite satisfied.
The weekend was kind of strange. I felt devoid of sentimentality which is strange for me. I am a sentimental man and expected to be considerably more emotional when my mom left. I wasn't though. I'm not sure if I'm just overwhelmed by the dramatic changes that have occured in my life in the past few weeks or if I'm simply growing up. Leaving my parents, my brothers and my girlfriend for undergraduate was so traumatizing it was pathetic. This was different though. This was my new life and if I was upset about starting it, something was wrong. It was kind of a relief that everything was so easy on me emotionally. The troubling aspects of the lack of sadness was replaced with a sense of relief that I was in Chicago, I was alone, and I was now responsible for my own happiness or lack thereof. That being said, my first full day alone was, well a little lonely. My roomates and I watched a couple movies and some TV but it certainly wasn't like being with my friends at home. We don't know where each other are at every given moment like we did in Athens. We don't know each others plans for the day, each others problems. It's better that way though. Best friends that live together don't always worked out well. I am lucky though. I'm living with good people and will meet more close friends soon. I really can't wait for school to start, to meet new people and to return home and hug the people I've left. I miss 'em but I have no regrets and will be very happy here.

I miss them already.

Fight Night

I've been living with my parents in Suburban Hell for the past few weeks while I'm between leases at my place in Athens and my new home in Chi-town. I'm going stir crazy. I burned almost every bridge with every friend I had in high school. My hometown offers little in the way of the fun. My days have consisted of the following:
1. Wake up and eat cereal
2. Make breakfeast for my Alzheimers stricken grandmother whose been living with us lately. Make sure she takes her pill.
3. Read the New York Times. It's amazing we get the paper, being that my parents are both dirty Republicans.
4. Pack. There isn't much in the world worse than moving.
5. Go for a run. This usually occurs between 4 and 6 in the afternoon. The hottest time of the day in Georgia. There's something great about punishing yourself by running in oppressing heat.
6. Shower and watch Around the Horn, PTI and Sportcenter. The greatest two hours of my day.
7. Eat dinner with my parents and grandmother. If the TV isn't on, the whole meal, depending on the mood both my mom and dad are in, can be one long long awkward silence.
8. Drink a couple Rolling Rocks and fall asleep reading or watching some sporting event on television.
To get back to the awkward dinners. Lately my father has been in a horrible and hostile mood which has made dinners quite fun. Defusing this potential explosive situation has proven difficult, especially when a good friend was in town for one last dinner before he left for medical school and I for law school. Well, tonight things exploded and I can't get out of this godforsaken town fast enough. My father, in typical mellow dramatic fashion, told my mother he hadn't loved her in years and never would love her again. My mother responded in calling him a vile person (correct), pathetic (also correct) and bitter (correct). I love my father, don't get me wrong, but he is one of the most flawed men I've ever met. He's not an alcoholic, he doesn't abuse his family and he doesn't have any real problems. This makes him perhaps my biggest fear. A man with everything who acts and feels like he has nothing. I've always thought my biggest fear is failure. Perhaps my biggest fear is succeeding and still not finding happiness. Chicago, I can't wait to see you.

The First Post

It's four days until I leave my life in Georgia for the trials and tribulations that my first year of law school will surely offer. I'm leaving my real family and a group of friends that were as good as family to go to a place where I don't really know anyone. The move from a small college town (Athens) to one of the biggest cities in the country (Chicago) will be an adjustment. It's exciting, it's sad, it's really damn scary and it's the end of an era really. It's an era that had to end. My undergraduate years had me drinking to much and not remembering too many good memories. I'm not really sure what the next couple of years has to offer me. I'm looking forward to being challenged again. Looking forward to meeting new people. Looking forward to trying to get into a normal relationship again. All that's incredibly exciting. That being said, my biggest fear in the world is failure. The first year of law school is unlike any year in any form of education in the United States. It is intense, it is difficult and it is intimidating. There are a lot of people that don't come back after Christmas. There are a lot of people that don't pass the Bar. There are a lot of people that don't get big jobs at big firms. It sounds shallow and contrite and it is but I really don't want to be one of those people. We'll see what the next few days, weeks and months hold. Should be interesting.