Happy

Seems like a long time coming, but happiness returned to my life.

Then again, maybe I rediscovered the happiness. I came back to San Diego.

With nearly every group of friends I have had, after a long time apart (say 6 months or more) there has been a grace period where we retested boundaries, reassuring ourselves that these were trustworthy people. No such experience here.

At the airport ten of my fraternity brothers showed up to greet me back home. Two pints, two ribs and a half a chicken later, I remembered why I had been so sad to leave. That night the "Chappy Love" crew met up. To be sure drinks were involved... I wish I could tell some of the great stories which followed, but then I would enter the realm of fiction; I don't remember it all clearly. Now the group is heading off in their own directions. One to law school (directly against my suggestion, and cries), another to Connecticut, and another to Korea. Some others are staying put, but even those plans are temporary.

I may have returned to see the San Diego I remember for the last possible time, so I am grateful that I am bad with money for the first time.

All I can hope is that everyone else enjoys their break as much as I have mine. If I were to return to school now I would feel more rejuvenated than I had over the course of any of my weekends during the school year. All the same, I am already read to return to classes. I feel oddly guilty not having done much law related study. I have read though the assigning packet for the moot court competition in March, but other than that, I don't really know what I should be doing with my time.

I guess it is good that I learn how to have a vacation now, when I don't need them. Once I am an attorney, I don't think I will have that same problem.

Oh, and one other note. The average temperature for the day was probably 45-50 degrees (Fahrenheit for those keeping score); it rained for a little over 12 hours straight; I had a very thick North Face jacket one and could still feel the wind coming through... I counted ten San Diego State women wearing mini-skirts, leggings, stilettos and a hoodie. Thank God for San Diego State, eh?

Trends

Something about trends fascinates me. Sure, I get caught up in them (I am dating an upper middle class white woman, and until I started dating her I thought that J. Crew was a rowing team), but the social scientist side of me wonders why some and not others?

Why, in the late 1990s, did "Digipets" become the crazy? What was the appeal? It may have been good marketing, but more than likely I think it tapped into some inner part of who we desire to be. At 12 I had a responsibility. Sure, if I failed at said task I could push a pencil into the reset button and retry, but the simulated "caring" my Digipet (it was a pikachu, don't judge) made me actually want to work harder at it.

Why, for the last two decades, or so, has Magic the Gathering garnered such a, pardon the pun, gathering of individuals. My brother was, at one point, the 8th highest ranked MTG (as they so cooly call it) player in the state. Doesn't sound like much until you consider that there are hundreds of thousands of ranked players in the state. What was special about Magic? It created an escape. Middle aged men find repreive from the real world in Corvettes and twenty-something blonde women named "Candy" (for my cousin's wife, named Candy, I am sorry, but it just fit); middle aged women find their fantasies fulfilled in... um... I don't really know. The Notebook or something like that, maybe? The point is, Magic has developed a fantastical world where socially misfit people (not all, but yes, many or even most MTG players are exactly who you think they are) find others who are interested in escaping. This wasn't the case for my brother. He (and I swear this is essentially a direct quote) enjoyng, "being the person everyone underestimates because I have a hot girlfriend. Then, I make them cry over their elves and dwarves."

And then, there is this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gF33tAbd-IE It is known as "Tecktonik" and comes from the slums of Paris. The French response to breakdancing, I suppose, though will not as much skill, strength, impressiveness, guns or straight men. I had a friend just yesterday tell me that Tecktonik was done by "French gangsters". As soon as I recovered from the fit of laughter (seriously, french gangsters? What color are their gang flags? White?) I considered this: Tecktonik serves as a focal point or way out. Just as hip-hop, here, serves as an exit from the slums, maybe Tecktonik serves this same purpose, but for the French "hoods". (I am sorry, the idea of a French Gangster may be the most ludicrous thing I have ever heard. I can just imagine this conversation: "When I am done with my croissont, I will slice you with my cheese knife." "Yes, well, you shall have to beat me to it, for I shall chug this wine, and sleep with women who I will coerce into killing you..." Damn French.)

That said, I still think there is no reason anyone, ever, should wear a mullet. Dance however you choose you French-wannabe-gangster-emo kids, but leave the mullets to the trailer trash of America. It is how we know who owns Camaros.

In the name of Procrastination Almighty...

Doesn't procrastination seem to be the perfect, or at least unilaterally accepted moralistic behavior of man? Nowhere in the "7 Deadly Sins" (Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride) does procrastination come up. The argument exists for procrastination's implication in sloth, but really, that is more a lifestyle choice than a temporary state of mind such as procrastination.

I have taken two law finals (a feat, I swear it), have two upcoming, and then a month of preparation for an oral arguments competition regarding civil rights under the Constitution. I want to procrastinate.

I just can't think of a topic...

I could go political with Obama's naming of the paramount cabinet positions, President Bush's rising popularity, or the attacks in Mumbai (formerly Bombay) culminating in an international fervor. I could, but that takes effort...

I could go funny with a conversation topic like synesthesia, why I love burritos, or my plans for the coming month (involves video games, alcohol, food, running, and a little bit of law). One, I already did synesthesia. Two, what kind of monster (Kat) doesn't love burritos? And, three, I am gearing up to live that month. The more I think about it, the more depressing the end of it appears. That and it takes effort...

I could just write nothing, but then I would feel some pang of guilt since I am not studying. So, I doddle on... BICYCLES!

How could I have missed bicycles? My roommate is convinced I have a problem with bikes, or rather that I am a bike "collector". Well, she is a shoe "collector" so I suppose we have our things. I am, admitttedly in love with bikes. Nothing else offers so much control, speed, and economicality (I know, not a word). Rollerblades? Too slow. Skateboards? Don't have the balance. Running? Yeah. Maybe. But I like not gasping for air. That, and how many people do you know who can average 20 miles per hour over ten minutes?

Aight, I am done. That is all I have...

Mike, kill me once we are done with finals and I am good and drunk. Em, Make sure my corpse has a scarf. Someone tell Pierce the cat that he can have all of my Apple cables and headphones to play with. Roommate (who shall remain nameless) you can have the bikes. They are in the living room anyways. May as well use them, right?

Synesthesia

Yea, it is a big word with a definite meaning. Then again, I love big words with definite meanings, so I am going to do a post about it.

First, my parents burned into my brain that television, or the majority of it, is not for educational purposes; they were wrong. I have learned a great deal from television shows. 1) Cosby and his kids taught me never to play ball in the house, though I do not have much confidence that I would have been treated as kindly had I broken Mom's vase (pronounced vay-suh, not voz). 2) President Bartlet opened my eyes to the reality of word trivia: for example "Only three words in the English language begin with the letters 'dw'." This, of course, must be modified a bit to say that only three words which are not proper nouns or slang (Dwight, you dweeb, Dwayne doesn't count.) They are: dwell, dwindle, and dwarf. And, 3) Gregory House has taught me that synesthesia is the experience of one sense through another.

Pot smoking hippies the world over would swear they experience this ony a daily schedule, but this comes without inducement for some. Synesthetics hear colors, smell sights, or even sight smells. Numbers have a particular color associated with their pronunciation, letters an attitude about them, and entire words a plethora of adjectives cataloging their meaning, all wholly disconnected from what the dictionary has defined them as.

When I first heard of this, two months ago, I felt envy. One of my best friends, a guy who is dyslexic, artistic to an ability I cannot begin to dream of, and driven by the experiential world around him, knew immediately what I was describing. His exact words were "What? You never noticed that 7s were kinda angry?" No, no I did not...

Luckily, geniuses who can create an experience for me exist in the world: www.playauditorium.com

This may be the most beautiful game I have ever played. I already told the programmers that I want to be a beta tester for it, and almost want to talk to them about legal aid should they determine they want to take this further than a simple flash game. Who knows, maybe I will...

Only if the sight and sounds of the situation smell right though... No, I don't mean that figuratively.

I figured it out...

Being a 1L is supposed to take up massive quantities of time and pose the most difficult challenge you have experienced as of yet... You are intended to lose contact with people only to find out who your true friends have always been... You are meant to dive into books and come up only for air when necessary, but find that there is no air, only more books... Your life is supposed to change.

I figured out this morning, while running (turns out it isn't the great evil I thought, and that the most thought provoking questions arise when you literally can't get enough air in your lungs)... I liked my life before law school.

I had (still have, by the grace of God and a lot of work) a beautiful girlfriend. I had (and still have due to their seemingly infinite patience) friends who have maintained their commitment to supporting me since high school (which is seeming further and further in my past) and college (which I vaguely remember as being a good time in my life). I have even met some new people recently, pre-law school and in the past year and a half, who could have been added to that list. My family supports me, regardless of my career path, and I have more loves than just the law.

So, I am asking, why am I doing this?

That I didn't figure out while I was running today, but Thursday will offer up another 30 minutes of solitary time.

For those wondering, my first final went very well. I know I got at least a B, so that is one down and three to go. Yes, I want As, but in a world this competitive, with people who harbor a greater passion than I can muster for this subject, Bs will do for the first time in over ten years.

I just can't wait for winter break. Maybe then I can start to reclaim my old life. Maybe learn how to meld the two together... Who knows.