The Holidays.

I'll give you a list of my holiday season to spare you the long rant. There should be some things that might mean some glimmer to each or all of you.

Love. Fried chicken. Bojangle's biscuits. Steak and Shake. New T-shirts (no Toque las llamas!) Beer and more beer. Guitar hero. Awakening. Remorse. An ENTIRE huge jar of macadamia nuts all by myself. Regret. Heartbreak. Chinese buffets (twice). Younger overweight cousins playing video games for 10 hours straight. Playing Freebird on Guitar Hero, on Medium, and rocking it like yo grandma's chair. H&M scarves and hats. Pot stickers. More love. Family. Bitching about old friends. Rediscovering the joys of playing music. Introducing someone else to just jamming with a band at 3 am, drunk, high, and retarded. Friendship. An entire box of CVS cookies. God of War 2 (sorry, SJB, my cousins were getting antsy). Fear. Football on Monday, on Sunday, then on Monday again, then on Saturday and Sunday again. Realization. Taking family pictures. Forgiving. Noticing how my cousins look nothing like my brother and I. Sitting on massage chairs. Waiting. Wonton soup. Longing. Falling asleep as my father goes to work at 7am. Shame. Morning dehydration. Old friendships rekindled. New friendships broken. Phone calls from Durham. Growing up.

Hickory smoked thick cut bacon double cheeseburgers with a strawberry shortcake chaser at 3 am with old friends. Watching the Raiders getting stomped two weekends in a row, and resisting the urge to text a virtual smirk to the resident jooboy. Cooking the uberwhite turkey, stuffing, potatos (suck it Quayle), and ham. Confessions. Explaining the significance of the Pats-Giants game to family members. Playing Klonoa 2 again (joy!) Pondering the wisdom of my recently long locks. Watching "How I met Your Mother." Heineken, Miller Lite, Harp, Michelob Lite, Beck's Premier Lite, Grolsch, Newcastle, Labatt, Bass, Guinness, Bud Light, Franziskaner Dark Hefe weissen, and a single glass of red wine with Christmas dinner.

Phones snapped in half. Phones replaced. Gifts given, gifts received. Boredom. Excitement. Anxiety. Coming in from a smoke to find someone you would never expect dancing with a redneck chick in a bar called "crocs." Laughing. Groaning. Crying. Smiling. Hoping. Eating. Eating. Eating. Eating. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. New Books (On Beauty). Old Books (The Sorceress of Darshiva). Missing. Sobriety. Intoxication. Invisible letters. Spiderman 3.

Just two short weeks. What the laziest two weeks can produce is astounding.

I love you all (or at least most of you), and I hope we'll be in contact soon. And I hope that your Holidays were as simultaneously empty and full as mine.

...And be goddamned grateful I didn't do a summary of the year. So suck it.

Happy HOliday Goodness.

For some reason, I have a massive aversion to the computer whenever I come to greenville. I don't like checking email, I don't respond to email, I don't even read the news for these 2 weeks. I just hate sitting in this computer room.

So, as usual, I'm going to be M.I.A. (Whoop whoop!) for the next coupla weeks.

Hopefully I'll be in touch with you over the break for some sort of obligatory "hey! how are you! merry christmas!" sorta schpiel...if not, you should call me.

4 Rawjer.

RS, this is for you. Hitch on Huck. (Hitch being Christopher Hitchens. Not the Will Smith date doctor guy.)

However, what Article VI does not do, and was never intended to do, is deny me the right to say, as loudly as I may choose, that I will on no account vote for a smirking hick like Mike Huckabee, who is an unusually stupid primate but who does not have the elementary intelligence to recognize the fact that this is what he is. My right to say and believe that is already guaranteed to me by the First Amendment. And the right of Huckabee to win the election and fill the White House with morons like himself is unaffected by my expression of an opinion.

heh. heh. heh.

Sunday Sunday Sunday!

Quick sum up of my Sunday.

6:30 am. Woke up after falling asleep at 3 am.

6:45 am. Looked out the window and, uh, noticed there was a fucking BLIZZARD going on.

7:30 am. Packed up an extra pair of jeans, extra pair of socks, extra pair of shoes, and stuffed them into my book bag which suffered a ruptured zipper the night before, and does not keep snow out. Packed an extra messenger bag. Inside: a laptop computer, covered with a plastic bag, slipped inside a laptop sleeve, with another plastic bag over that. (No, seriously, it was a nor'easter. A nor'easter is essentially a winter hurricane.)

7:31 am. Left my apartment, and began walking in freshly fallen new snow. Knee deep powder, wearing ankle socks and low top shoes. Because the wind, snow, and ice were so powerful, I had to hold an umbrella horizontally in FRONT of me, to prevent being sandblasted to death. Remember, huge winter coat, hat, scarf, a full book bag, AND a messenger bag in front, fighting an actual fucking blizzard. A 7 minute walk to the T-station took 25.

7:56 am. Got on the T and promptly started sweating.

8:07 am. Stepped off the T and went into a CVS. Purchases: 3 cans of Red Bull, 1 Odwalla Bar, 1 bottle of Water. Began walking from the station towards campus.

8:20 am. Arrived at campus and went into the library into the sub sub basement, took off my coat, took off my scarf, took off my hat, dropped my two book bags, put the CVS bag on the desk, shook off the snow, and sat down in my chair gasping, stopping only to notice that my dress shirt (which was under my sweater), appeared to be soaked through with sweat. My jeans were soaked up to mid-thigh, my shoes would gurgle with each step, and I had an 8 hour exam in what has commonly been referred to as "the hardest class at HLS."

8:22 am. Went into a bathroom, peeled off my sopping clothes, changed into dry clothes, shoes, and socks and ran towards another building to pick up the exam question.

8:30 am. Picked up my exam, and headed back to my cubby.

8:31 am. Took a piss.

(Took exam. Drank 3 Red Bulls, ate an Odwalla bar.)

4:30 pm. Turned in the exam.

5:00 pm. Went outside to discover that it was 35 degrees, and RAINING.

5:01 am. Had to fight the urge to grab random passerbys and scream "THIS! THIS! THIS IS WHY I FUCKING HATE BOSTON!"

5:02 pm. Stepped in an ankle deep puddle of slush.

5:03 pm. Stepped in a knee deep puddle of dirty water.

5:05 pm. Stepped in a calf deep puddle of slush.

5:06, 5:07, 5:08, 5:09, 5:10: Continued to step in large slushy lakes that pooled in such a way that it was impossible to go around them, because of chest high dirty snow piles on the left, buildings on the right, and a 30 foot wide pool of water in front.

5:11 pm. Drank beer, ate deep fried pickle spears dipped in ranch dressing, and ate small mini hamburgers with other classmates in celebration of the fucking END OF FEDERAL COURTS!!

6:00 pm. Fell asleep in the restaurant.

6:10 pm. Got up and headed off for home with a buddy of mine, who wanted more beer.

6:11. 6:12, 6:13, 6:14, 6:15....6:25 pm. Stepped into large puddles of water.

6:30 - 11:30. Drank beer, ate pizza, and ended up watching "A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila" Marathon with my buddy Tyler, instead of playing Wii as we had planned.

11:30 pm. Fell asleep on the couch. During which Tyler left, and I had no idea.

3:30 am. Woke up on the couch with all the lights on, and beer bottle in my hand. Ahh...I hate law school...and love the end of it.

it is done!

....more about the disastrous day later.

For now, done :)

EXACTLY what I needed on the day of my 8 hour take-home exam.

...a fucking BLIZZARD.

This is going to be a very long day.

My God

I am fucking MISERABLE right now.

Hm.

Without reservation, I am about to head into two of the most mind-bogglingly complex law school exams of my career less prepared and more fundamentally and microscopically confused than anytime over the past 2 years.

It's a little upsetting, but I'm also not sure I care anymore...

Fatter. Pastier. Less Productive.

On November 14 I arrived in the library as soon as class ended and stayed until the library kicked us out at 2am.

I did that everyday until November 22nd.

Then came four days off...

And then every. single. day. since. that...I have been on the exact same schedule. Except yesterday, when I was up til 5am.

...I remain 9 days behind my studying schedule...

That's why I ain't got shit to say. I'm tarred.

(if you caught the reference, thumbs up. If you did not, totally weak. If your question is "what reference"....seriously....?)

Narcissism: What I do Instead of Exams.

....Though not really, since I don't have much to be vain about as exams soften up my muscles and add layers of sadness and softness to my frame....

Anyway, anyone who has encountered a Mac has noticed the ONE good thing about them, which is that little PhotoBooth thingy. So instead of delving deeper into the implications of Federal Common Law, I decided to take some pictures using the provided effects. This is me. On No Sleep. No Haircut. No Sun. Too much ice. Too many long bike rides in the freezing win. Too many cigarettes. Too much Federal Courts. Too much secured transactions. Too little time....and trying to figure out how to make four consecutive shots look different, and invariably just looking in four directions.

This is the depressing setting where I'm actually sitting...in the sub basement of the library. Sub basement again indicating that I am actually one level BELOW the basement where there are not desks, and the ceiling is a series of exposed pipes and jagged metal utility fixtures.


Black and White and Four Stupid Faces spontaneously generated between flashes.

This setting is called Pop Art.

This one is called colored pencil. I like the bottom left one because it looks like I'm wearing a helmet. But I'm totally not. I need a haircut.


I've decided to start posting the music I'm listening to...since I can just get them from YouTube.
This is "Bamboo Banga" by M.I.A. My favorite part begins around 1:45 where "M.I.A. is comin back with Powa Powa! (Powa Powa!)" (yes, she does sound Bjorkish there.)

Again and Again.

Yes. Another random shooting.

...made better by the fact that THIS Court has decided to grant certiorari on the D.C. gun control law to finally fix the boundaries of the Second Amendment...

...Lucky for all of us who are concerned with being able to continue breathing and living without having my very existence subject to the tiniest of whims of any jackass, the Roberts Court decided to take the case on a typically narrow, technical jurisdictional ground that has no precedential value...

“Whether the [DC gun control statutes] violate the Second Amendment rights of individuals who are not affiliated with any state-regulated militia, but who wish to keep handguns and other firearms for private use in their homes?”

...oh wait. Not at all.

Current Playlist

Some mix of these songs and artists tend to be all I've been listening to in the past week. When did I stop listening to rock? Where did all the loud guitars go? I do suggest, however, at least checking out M.I.A...I can't explain it, but her music is like a drug. Just keep comin back to it, even though the first time was a bit disorienting....So good. SO GOOD.

1) Bamboo Banga, Boyz, Jimmy - M.I.A.
2) Give a Little Love, Breakin Up - Rilo Kiley
3) Polite Dance Song, How Deep is Your Love - Bird and the Bee
4) The Crane Wife Pts 1&2, Sons and Daughters - The Decemberists
5) The Blower's Daughter, Cannonball - Damien Rice
6) You Are What You Love - Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins
7) Over the Ice, Everday - The Field

Most Accurate Description Ever.

Halfway through reading a Supreme Court case determining the priority of a federal tax lien v. a state judgment lien with respect to the after-acquired property of the debtor...I started drifting off into the internet. (surprised? And yes. I literally stopped in mid-sentence in the middle of the case.) And, I started reading a Slate piece about Mike Huckabee and about how his famous weight loss and his prominence for said weight loss would prove to be a distraction in his Presidency. (ie. we would judge him by his weight. etc.)

I actually think these pictures of Huck are endearing.
Especially the bottom two. Fat guy eating and Fat guy being fat.
How could you NOT like this guy? (uh...except for what he believes.)

Anyhow, the article starts to delve into the other candidates, and I thought the description of Mitt Romney was so perfect and casually delivered that it deserved sharing.

In the unlikely event that Barack Obama put on some pounds, his team could just say he's trying to quit smoking. John Edwards has already laid the groundwork by pointing out that he has given up Diet Coke. As a cyborg who can morph into any form, Romney doesn't have to worry. But if Huckabee starts to balloon, he's no longer a fresh face; he's another flip-flopping phony diet doctor.

HAHAHAHAHA. I love it.

Associations.

So everyone has their own distinct associations between certain sensory impressions and moments and places in their life. The sense impressions are always involuntary and lying somewhere between the conscious and subconscious. For example:

When I hear Joanna Newsom, I immediately think of riding the T to my clinical and being cold and exhausted on the subway.

When I smell guava, I get sharply jerked back to being in my apartment in Bangalore with the French girl who was too scared to eat anything but fruit.

When I smell coconut oil, I am immediately overcome with the presence of AIDS. (When I massaged patients in the afternoons, I used coconut oil.) (oh, and uh...Think of AIDS today, it's World AIDS Day. You don't get a legitimate AIDS Post from me.)

When I hear "What's Simple is True" by Jewel, I am back with Ashley Kolaya my first girlfriend in high school in the winter time in Christmas in 1998.

When I hear Staralfur by Sigur Ros, I'm back in my bedroom in Durham, sitting next to Jon Ross witnessing absurdities compiling absurdities and spiraling into conflicting contradictory...you get the picture.

...And now...today, I noticed that the new (but very strange choice of) air freshener in all of the public toilets in Harvard...an unmistakable, very real smell...of freshly baking chocolate cookies.

Gross. Whichever direction this association runs is not good.

I was listening to NPR today...

Why is it that the most vocal and adamant about the principle of self-reliance are often, if not mostly, those who have grown up under circumstances requiring no self-reliance? How many rags-to-riches Republicans do you know? Or more tellingly, how many riches-to-riches Republicans do you know that cry out for self-reliance?

South Carolina Young Republicans, with broken bootstraps
from the harsh travails of self-reliance.

The immediate rejoinder points the equal alienation of northeastern, wealthy arm-chair liberals who also know little about the struggles of the poor.

And the obvious resulting question is, what's with all the rich people deciding what to do about the poor?


Note: I'm not actually denying the crucial need for a culture and politics fundamentally grounded in self-reliance and accountability. I DO find it ridiculous though, how the demographics do seem to map onto such beliefs. (Any poor, uneducated libertarians out there?) I also get irritated, when during an NPR segment about families with two full-time jobs who are unable to avoid heat for their homes, a caller decides to go on a long diatribe about how he is self-reliant and that, essentially, all poverty and want is the failure of individual responsibility.