Soapbox No. 2: The Angry Bitch Post

Disclaimer right now: This post is going to be more angry than pensive, unlike my other more non-narrative posts. So, if blunt-to-the-point-of aggressive thoughts (or the peppering of the "F" word) bothers you, you may wish to skip this one. Warning: it will be entirely un-PC.

I saw an article today that got me fuming for pretty much half the day. Apparently, some court in Germany has decided that male circumcision of infants, is assault, effectively banning the practice, at least legally. Interestingly, this is a law that will primarily affect only religious and ethnic minorities-- namely, Jews and Muslims-- because the court specifically said that it is banned in the case of religious--as opposed to medical (and I guess then, hygienic?)-- reasons.

First: Germany. No one in the official media is sayin' it, but you *know* we are all thinking it...

Secondly, this ruling is crap. The court, in its opinion, said the "fundamental right of the child to lebensraum bodily integrity outweighed the fundamental rights of the parents." This ruling puts into legal precedent something a lot of bleeding-heart types have wanted for a long time: basically, to force religious leaders and doctors (the law in Germany didn't preclude the practice if done by doctors, but this is in fact what a lot of the proponents for this type of ban actually do want) to stop performing the procedure. Namely, to take away people's right to consider the pros and cons, and decide for themselves. In doing so, these do-gooder types have described the practice as "barbaric," and have likened it to female genital mutilation, which is practiced in many, lesser-developed societies. The court said that it takes away the child's right to "choose his religion" later on, because *so* much of your spirituality is dependent on being "intact" (I would like to point out at this juncture that there are many people of all sorts of religions, or none at all, that have it done. So no, I don't think anyone is going to say you can't decide to be Catholic when you are older, because a moyel did a bris on you when you were 8 days old). And, from what I can tell from reading the comments by the peanut gallery that tend to come after such internet articles, most people agreed with this decision, and want to see it "spread" to the rest of the civilized world.

I am going to address (briefly) some of their arguments:

1. It is not just an "old religious tradition" that has no practical meaning. Now, if you know anything about me, you know my thoughts on religion (Sparknotes version: I don't like it). But every so often, it actually gets something right. Shocking, I know. Look, a lot of what got codified as religious dogma back in the day, actually came out of practical realities of the time, dictates that were put down so that people wouldn't get their assess kicked by nature, and thus the society could survive. One of these things was circumcision. Namely, intact people have a higher chance of getting very painful infections, because bacteria and other nasties can get trapped, um, "there," if not thoroughly cleaned. Since it was hard to be thoroughly cleaned back in the day, it was a good preventative measure in terms of not getting what I imagine would be a really nasty condition. Now, proponents of the no-circumcision thing say that this is no longer necessary, as we live in a much more hygienic society, and it is unlikely that it will cause problems, so you are putting someone through trauma for no reason. Which brings me to my next point...

2. Just because it is "less likely" to cause problems, doesn't mean it shouldn't be dealt with. Now, I a not a religious person, but if I ever have sons-- assuming the bleeding hearts haven't rammed through some kind of law banning it by then-- I am going to get them "altered" at the hospital, before we leave. Why? Because the peace of mind that it is one less potentially very problematic health issue they will have to deal with growing up. As humans, we take out and preemptively deal with "unnecessary" body parts all the time, before they become an issue. Exhibit A: wisdom teeth. Wisdom teeth are pretty much universally taken out now when a teen is around 16 years old, before they have erupted. Why? Because when they erupt, at best they cause teeth to overcrowd, and at worst they grow in impacted, leading to a very painful, likely-to-be infected,situation. So we take them out ahead of time, to just avoid the whole nasty situation. It is likewise the same with circumcision. Yes, it is a "natural" part of the male body, but no, males do not need it, and the potential problems it can cause down the line just aren't worth having it around.

3. Now, a lot of proponents of no circumcision would say, "but any surgical or quasi-surgical procedure carries a risk that someone is going to botch it, or that it will be infected, and so it is an unnecessary risk." Yes, that is in fact true. Hopefully, you vet the people performing these things, but shit does, in fact, happen. Same can be said for wisdom teeth. In fact, I think the risk of infection might be higher for wisdom teeth, since I kept hearing horror stories about dry socket before I got mine done. And thus I was paranoid about following doctor's orders, and keeping my mouth clean. But you know what? If the doctor or moyel knows what he is doing, I bet that risk is pretty low, probably lower than the risk of infection if you keep it around (you can clean yourself all you want, but the skin is easily inflamed or infected, particularly if you have bad skin to begin with. I consider myself pretty hygienic; still didn't prevent me from getting a bad cyst infection this year that required (very painful, like a 9/10 on the scale ER doctors keep asking you about) draining and two visits to the ER). And what do you think is more traumatic for someone? An infection in infancy, when you won't remember it, or a very painful infection "down there" that you have to deal with after your brain and neuron connections have fully developed? A minor surgical procedure when you are a week old, or a what will be a more major surgery should you choose to get it done later in life? I had some pretty serious operations in infancy that, while I get to tell some cool/shocking stories about them, I thank my lucky stars that I don't remember jack shit, because I don't know if I could mentally handle "heart failure" and "open heart surgery" thrown at me, now that I am old enough to be aware of what that means, and what getting it worked on could entail (namely, flatlining in the OR). Oh, and: Twice. Twice this happened. I don't need that in my memory.

4. Which again brings me to another point: pain. A lot of people think it is bad because it is painful for the babies. This is the only point on which they have kind of a point. Apparently, when done in religious ceremonies, or even in some hospitals, they don't bother to use anesthesia. That is fucking stupid, I admit. Spring a lil cash, and get some local anesthesia. Problem solved. A lot of the proponents of this ban say that by deferring it, you are letting the guy decide on his bodily integrity later in life, when he has capacity to control his destiny or whatever. You know what is going to be more painful than some un-anesthetized cutting when the infant is too young to remember? Cutting it when it has fully developed, necessitating a more major procedure, and thus a more protracted recovery time. I had some foot surgery done last summer, and I had to take the Vicodin they gave me to the max dosage to get the pain down during recovery. And then my body couldn't handle it, so I vomited. So basically, it fucking sucked. So, what guy is going to want to voluntarily go through this when he is older, even if it is objectively beneficial?

5. People who claim that circumcision-- particularly in a religious context-- is "mutilation," and compare it to the hack job that women in undeveloped societies have to deal with. If you can't tell the difference between a minor quasi-surgical procedure that has objective health benefits and an easy recovery, and a procedure that is meant to take all sexual pleasure away from women by creating constant pain, as a way to keep them virgins until they marry, and then obedient to their husbands (or murder, or honor killings or foot binding, or abortion, which are some of the other comparisons people have been making), then sorry. You are a fucking idiot.

Although, this court in Germany might just get the Nobel Peace Prize for their little stunt. Because they just did the fucking impossible: they succeeded in uniting the Jewish and Muslim populations, in solidarity outrage over this law that makes a major ceremony in their respective religions illegal.

Why do I bring this all up? Because this law is the epitome of why it is becoming increasingly less of a question of "if," and more of a question of "when" I am going to give up on society as a whole, and go somewhere remote to become a crazy cat lady (or dogs, or bunnies, or really any small, fluffy, blood pressure-reducing critter).

Why? Because increasingly, I am seeing that one cannot escape from the tyranny of the "opinion" if one is to live in society. As the saying goes, opinions are like assholes: everyone's got one. Except people aren't happy having their opinions be just that: opinions. Oh no, they have to make everyone agree with their opinions, if not by persuasion then by force. Like this law: because *some* people think that circumcision is not necessary and a bad practice, they now must take away the ability of parents to fully consider the issue, and then make the decision they find is best for their child. Oh no, because *they* think it is bad, it must be bad as they could not *possibly* be wrong, so *they* should get to decide for everyone else. Because, you know, anyone who disagrees is obviously a barbarian, and so we couldn't possibly listen to what they have to say, or consider their side. Or a slut.

And I see this everywhere I go, from official policy to family, religious and culture tradition, to peer pressure. People think they got it all figured out, and that because something works for them, or comports with their morality or world view, everyone else must follow suit. You know why I don't "do" religion? I got into a big fight about this with my mom on my parent's anniversary. I told my mom "I am not a Christian," (which I am not-- I am not anything, even though I grew up Episcopalian/Anglican/whatever). She got all angry because she thought that my declaration was my trying to disavow my heritage, culture, and the way my parents raised me. That is not it at all. I think I take a lot of deference to the values my parents instilled in me-- like honesty, loyalty, hard work, and independence. But I can have those values without being tied down to a religious doctrine. In reality, I don't "do" religion because all I see it as, is more bars on the jailhouse door, so to speak. With everyone else trying to force their way of living or beliefs on you, why would anyone gratuitously add yet another level of restriction and dictation, of "moral imperative," particularly given by people who have no idea about the individual circumstances of others, and are taking their direction from a book or books (depending on your religion) written in a society in no way, shape, or form similar to the way we are living now? That is why I don't do religion, primarily (there is also the issue that I think that the question of whether there is a god/higher power, is not dispositive of the question of whether we should worship it or do what it says. But that is a post for another day.)

Basically, I follow a simple life philosophy, cliched but true: live and let live. As much as possible, I try to not gratuitously be a bitch to people, or get up in their business. I observe things around me, I observe how people behave. And a lot of it I may not approve of, because it violates my sense of what it is to not be a jerk, and therefore wouldn't do myself. But, so long as what these people are doing doesn't directly affect my ability to lead my quiet, relatively uneventful life in peace, I am not enough of an arrogant prick to think that because I think certain things are wrong or stupid, I should force others to comply with the way I behave. Because the only person who knows what is right for a person, is that person. And sometimes people make bad choices, and have to-- or should have to-- deal with the consequences. This is what I believe in regards to others, so I expect the same common courtesy in return. I am not my brother's keeper, and neither is he mine. And that, my friends, is the essence of freedom: the ability to define one's own existence, in peace. To rise and fall as the results of one's own actions. To make choices, and to learn from them. To *live*. To, in the words of our Founding Fathers, pursue happiness, so long as it is not in a destructive way (towards others. And no, "emotional distress" or "being offended" don't count. To use the language of the German court, the right to free speech-- as expression is part of really living-- outweighs any right to not have one's feelings hurt). Existing and living are not the same thing. I don't want to be part of a society that only lets me exist, and not live. This is also incidentally why no, I am not some crazy Anarchist. I think organized government and a legal system is imperative to preserving-- as much as possible-- the right to live and let live. Since rapists, murders, thieves, fundamentally violate this credo. And deserve their just desserts for it.

Sometimes I think maybe things will change, maybe people will see the light and start valuing freedom over their own little pet sensibilities. But no, it seems that increasingly, people are willing to trade their freedom-- and encourage others to take freedoms and choices away-- for whatever reason they agree with. On the right, it is this bullshit moral majority crap (because when one decides to have sex, or whether one exposes his or her hair or their skin, or whether one use contraception, or who one consensually loves and marries, or if one eats dairy with meat, or meat on Fridays, or works on the Sabbath, is so fucking dispositive of whether or not they are a "good" person, and so fucking relevant to the lives of those not involved). On the left, it is this collectivist mindset of "for the good of everyone/the whole/society." Or, you know, environment (also, have you people learned nothing from the 20th century? The path to hell is fucking paved with trying to forcibly promote or establish some person's or people's idea of "for the good of society." Seriously, go open a history book, and educate yourselves). And as much as either side is willing to call out their nemesis's bullshit, they will refuse to look at, analyze, or call out their own, finding a million and one excuses (my favorite, on the left, is the "externalities" argument. Yeah, pretty much everything has externalities. Still doesn't mean you should be able to tell me when and where I can have a fire in my fireplace, IN MY OWN GODDAMN HOUSE) why the other side's efforts to curtail freedom and choice is crap, but *their* pet projects are right and fine and "the right thing to do." And people will clamor to this, and actively promote and accept it, if it goes along with whatever excuse they happen to find persuasive. So the result is, we are constantly being squeezed, from the right, from the left.

One of the objections my boyfriend has when we get into this discussion, which usually turns into a fight (my boyfriend, bless his heart, is the eternal optimist, and also profoundly liberal), is that I have had a comparatively blessed life, so "why am I angry?" he says. For the most part, things have gone my way, and I have been lucky enough to have a lot of freedom, a lot of opportunity, and not much in my way. Aside from that lil snafu at the beginning of my life (which has not been a further problem for 21 years), I've had it good. So perhaps it seems bratty that I am so angry about all of this. But that is exactly my point: it is comparatively good right now, for me more than a lot of others, but for most people as well. It could always be better, but we are no longer indentured servants on feudal estates, having to do what "god and country (being one dude who has everything go his way)" tell us to do. We are living the Enlightenment dream, to be fully autonomous, free-thinking individuals. Or at least we should be. But freedom is a very precarious thing, it is fragile and exceedingly fleeting. Drop the ball once, relax on your laurels of individualism too long, and it can be snatched from under you. And what I am seeing around the globe lately-- retrenchment back into religious dogma, or a heightened drive towards "collectivism" -- threatens the delicate liberty we were all taught to believe in. And the problem is, people don't seem to care. They are too distracted by infighting to notice, and in many instances, are willing participants. For a long time, this country (with the exception maybe of the influence of the church, unfortunately) generally had a hands-off approach to people doing their thing, whether through official policy or otherwise. I feel like we are getting away from this, and this is bad. That is why, even though my existence is privileged, I must-- as should we all-- call out the bullshit when we see it. Because people trying to unduly control others (and I don't even mean in an official way, like with laws, but just in general) is like a cancer-- easier to keep in check when it is small and just beginning, but if it infects the body, it is exceedingly difficult to kill, and either the disease-- or, in some cases, the treatment-- will end up killing the body. But, it seems like no one is really willing to do this, because they agree with some of it, and fail to see the forest for the trees. Which depresses the hell out of me.

I imagine for my fiercely individualist views, I will be called or thought of in many different, unflattering terms: crazy, selfish, cold, mean, bitchy, uncaring, hedonistic, immoral, unbalanced, "a slut." But, if you couldn't tell from my blog, I really stopped giving these labels any sort of power over me, a long time ago. It not my problem what people choose to label or see me as, as long as I am true and honest to myself. Yes, it is important to be mindful of how one is perceived, but not at the expense of what makes you, you. As someone once said (again a cliche, but true): it is better to be hated for who you are, than loved for who you are not. So, I guess if it really gets to an extreme point of people trying to force others into their version of conformity, I probably will leave for a remote destination; like a line from one of my favorite movies says, I will "leave the madness over the mountains." Because I won't compromise myself or my integrity just to "get on" in the world.

Damn. I am starting to sound like Holden-fucking-Caufield. And I didn't even really like that book much.

Readers, if any of you agree with me on any of the above, please do leave comments. It would be nice to know that I am not alone. Or better yet, send your friends the link to this page, to "spread the word." But, somehow I don't think this will really happen, as I think I am in the significant minority over here.

Anyway, thanks for listening/reading. Particularly if any of what I said just attacked what you believed. If you continued reading in spite of that, I have a lot of respect for you. I am just trying to get people to think, to stop reacting and start acting. And sometimes you just have to be blunt. Anyway, it will be back to the regular mood of this blog on the next post.

Not-so-Part-Two: Another Week in NYC

So... apparently I didn't ever finish part two of my "part one" from last weekend's post. Unfortunately, I got hit with a project at work that I didn't know was going to turn into War and Peace, so that sucked my life for a week. Luckily I was so busy this week that I didn't do much, so I can fit a week's worth of stuff into one post without it being ridiculous.

When I last left my narrative, I was about to go to Connecticut. So yes, Connecticut. My boyfriend is from Connecticut, and was able to find a cheap rate on Spirit Airways to come out for Father's Day. So even though he had already been in Chicago for a week, he flew back out and met me in New York on that Friday. He actually met me at like 10:30p.m. in Brooklyn, because a friend of his was jazz singing in a cafe/bar/lounge in Park Slope.

Anyway, that Saturday morning we took the Greyhound bus from Times Square to Hartford. Also: I didn't know buses were such a thing. Maybe it is because I am from California, and other than Los Angeles, Santa Barbara or San Diego, there really aren't major "hubs" people will be traveling to within the same state. But Greyhound-- or long-distance bus travel in general-- is definitely not as much of a thing as it is here on the East Coast, apparently. Like, the Port Authority bus terminal in Manhattan is the size of a small airport. Like, I am pretty sure it might be bigger-- square footage as well as the number of vehicles serviced-- than the Harrisburg, PA or Boise, ID airports (yes, for a variety of reasons, I have actually flown in and out of those airports. On multiple occasions).

It was nice to meet up and hang out with my boyfriend's family. They are a lot like my dad's side of the family in that there are a lot of them, and whenever there is an event (and having the kids come home to visit qualifies as an event), they all get together in one place. The first day (Saturday) I was there, we basically hung out. Went to this burger joint that, for context for all you Chicago dwellers our there, is kind of like Epic Burger. Except they had better shakes. And then that evening we went to the aforementioned dinner/cookout with the boyfriend's family. On Sunday, I went with my boyfriend's mom and kid sister (she's nine-- which is kind of scary for me because when I first met her, she had just barely turned five) to watch the boyfriend sing in a showcase. When he was in high school, he was part of this program that gives scholarships to students, so that they can take very intensive lessons in singing. Over the 2-3 years of the program, the student's get something like $25K worth of lessons and training; the students have to try out to get in, and every "class" is only like 5 or 6 people. So it's kind of a big deal. And I guess (not surprisingly) at the "end" of the year (by school counting), the current students put on a showcase of songs. This year was their 10th anniversary, so as a special thing, they invited all the alumni back to sing in the final two numbers-- one on their own, one with the current students. It was really nice because, other than just generally being quality music, this was something I had heard a lot about from my boyfriend, and that I knew was and is an important part of his life. So it was nice that I actually got to share in it with him a little.

He also knows a lot of the people running the program (I guess not surprisingly, since the program is so small), so I actually (briefly) met some of those people as well. The craziest thing I saw at the reception, however, was this: One of the ladies in charge of the program had her mother there. The lady-- not the mother-- is probably in her late 70s. Apparently her mother is 99 years old (and, actually looked "spry"-- I would have placed her in her late 80s). For context (as I pointed out to my boyfriend at the time): when this woman was born, World War I hadn't happened yet. Can you imagine what this lady must have seen in her life? The kind of memories she must have? And how much of a mind-fuck it must be to live in this day and age, being so different from anything she would have known when she was a child/teen/young adult? How can one even deal with that? I am of two minds about living that old (if, of course, I still basically have my wits about me. Otherwise, forget it). On the one hand, I think it would be fascinating to have lived through the 20th century, to see the kind of change and world-events that she could have seen. To be a "memory-keeper" of sorts of the past. In other ways, I think it would be profoundly depressing. Other than her daughter and any possible grandkids, everyone she ever knew or loved I am sure have long passed on. Any husband, siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, friends, associates. And the world in which she would have been most active-- when she was young, through perhaps her 60s or 70s-- has also long passed on. She would have just come into the world as a young adult in the early 1930s. Think about that. In a way, it is quite poignant. But then, I always found movies about people who live forever, like Tuck Everlasting or Interview with a Vampire, bittersweet, more than scary or love-storyish or whatever was the main intention of the moviemakers. Because I always think about things like that-- what would be lost, what would be gained in living so long, and I find it kind of sad, in a way.

Anyway, I returned on Sunday evening. And didn't do much the whole week except work on this project. It was quite interesting, but sucked my life as I had to go through like 10lbs worth of trial records, in addition to about 75 cases (culled from an initial list of like 150). The brief section I wrote ended up being like 15 pages. But it is gratifying to know that the work I am doing is actually going to be meaningful-- in this case, helping to keep someone who should be in jail, stay in jail. A nice change from the "meaning" being grades/GPA, which I am finding to be increasingly not meaningful, and as such am having increasingly less patience with it.

On Tuesday the boyfriend swung back into New York for the evening, as his flight was at like 8:30am on Wednesday, out of LaGuardia, and understandably did not want to get up at like 3am to come into the city from Connecticut. We ended up meeting his friend again (the jazz singer) at this very chic bar/lounge on Park Avenue near Grand Central Station. I had dressed up because I knew that this place was going to be a classy joint. And it was. To the tune of $15 drinks and $7 tea. But it was an experience. The friend actually wasn't singing-- it was a friend of hers that had gotten the gig to sing at the place, and she had come out to support her. Since the boyfriend and I wanted to have some time to actually talk to his friend (the last two times-- at a house party and a gig in which she was singing-- were not really conducive to hanging out and chatting), we decided to go along. We were there for probably like two hours. And it was really one of those few moments that I felt "like an adult," as I am apparently now considered (I will be 24 in a couple months. No pretending like I could at 21 or 22-- this is real "twenties-something" territory. Which scares the hell out of me). I don't know; I feel like growing up-- particularly as part of the generation that grew up with Friends, Sex and the City, and the tail end of Seinfeld, we were all given these expectations about what being a young adult would be like: living in a cute apartment in some big city, getting together with regular friends after work at what my friend Kathryn has dubbed a "sitcom bar," just hanging out, and "being adults," with a variety of mostly minor social life dramas. But, for a variety of reasons-- particularly "reality"-- that is not what being a twenties-something is like. There is a lot more uncertainty about your life. Your drama isn't about your latest breakup or fling, so much as it is about, "holy shit what am I going to do with my life," or "I am doing something I don't like, but don't know how or where to change." Everyone I know who is is their early-mid twenties are experiencing one or both of those problems. For me, I still feel not really like an adult, even though I now go to a "job" (internship) every day, and have a (surprising) amount of responsibility in the work I do. I am still a student, I am still living for the most part off the graces of my parents and the federal government, so I don't feel very "grown up." So being at this trendy bar, in New York, listening to live music and drinking expensive drinks, I felt like I was finally experiencing what "being an adult" was always shown to mean. I felt like I was actually living the perception I had always had about what people do when they are "grown up."

Nothing really interesting happened the rest of the week. I worked on the project. I got a massage on Friday courtesy of Groupon, at a spa conveniently located a five-minute walk from the dining hall in which I eat dinner on week nights. It was quite relaxing, and much needed, and after the hour treatment, I could finally move things like my back and shoulders without hearing/feeling the joints pop. Unfortunately, the effects of this massage were short-lived. I had hauled with me the aforementioned 10lbs of trial materials in my briefcase bag, knowing I would have to work on this project over the weekend. Naturally, I got lost on the way back to my dorm (not really lost; just couldn't find the subway entrance. As a side note: Greenwich Village, wtf? Y u no make directional sense?). So after like 40 minutes of that, my shoulders were back to being pretty tense. Guess I will have to treat myself to another next month. :0)

Saturday I didn't do much, at all. I didn't even get up until 12:30pm (I think having pulled a lot of late nights the prior week to get shit done, really took a toll which my body was then trying to make up on the weekend). And then I spent most of the day *still* working on the brief. Since the internet at work sucks, I had spent most of the week just trying to read and note and create reference points in all the case law and trial material, so I didn't really even get to writing the thing until Friday. But, since it was the weekend, and since I am determined to not waste my time in NYC (I can sit in my room and do work at home, back in Chicago. If I am out here, I should do something). So, I did go out around 6:30pm to Chelsea Market, which is an interesting combination between like a food marketplace, and a food court. Chelsea, apparently, is a very trendy and high-class neighborhood of NYC (as I could tell from the stores, clubs, and apartment buildings I was passing by. Out of my price range for now, I am afraid), and Chelsea Market is probably one of the more upscale food markets/courts you will find. It's in an old factory of some sort that hsd been rehabbed and yuppified on the inside. I have to say, though, the food was good at the little restaurant I went to. Another, more minor moment, of feeling like a "real"young twenties-something. It definitely seemed like the kind of place a group of trendy young adult friends would go out to on the weekend for a more "casual" evening. I enjoyed.

On Sunday, I again didn't get going very early. I got myself up around noon, because I had a 1pm boat to catch from Battery Park, which would take me to Ellis Island. So I got another thing off my NYC bucket list, yay! Although my ticket would have allowed for it, I didn't get off at the Statute of Liberty Island. You can't climb up to the very top any more because of security, and I think even the base is closed for rehab. So all people were doing, was milling around the outside of the base, looking up and taking pictures. Frankly, I got a better view from a bit further back, on the boat, while we docked and waited for people to get off at the island/get on the boat.

Ellis Island was cool. You can tell that they put a lot of work into rehabbing the building-- it looks really good for being like 125 years old. Initially, I was going to try to make an appointment to look up family records-- you have to do that ahead of time-- since my mom's great-grandfather's family came over from Norway in the 1870s, and came through New York before heading out to Chicago (how things come full circle, no?). But, apparently Ellis Island wasn't a thing until 1892, so my family would have actually come through a port in lower Manhattan (now the site of Battery Park). And anyway, any records that may have existed, probably got burned up. Apparently, a couple years after the *first*, wooden Ellis Island building opened, the whole thing went up in flames, taking most of the immigration records going back to the 1850s with it. Alas. And on my dad's side-- hell, we have been in this country for freaking generations. We are about as old as the country itself. For example, one branch of the family tree apparently owned a plantation in Maryland, and a few years after Americans were like, "England? Eh, not so much," sold the land to the Federal Government to create what is now the Naval Academy at Annapolis. In conclusion: no, no we did not come through Ellis Island. Also, I feel like the fact that part of my family like sold/gave the government the land to create a military academy, should entitle me to some kind of tax break. One can dream...

Ellis Island is basically a museum inside the old port-of-call and inspection rooms. It chronicles the peopling of North America/ the United States from about the 1500s until the 1920s. It was actually quite interesting, and I always enjoy looking at old photos of people, and hearing/seeing first person accounts from the past. But then I am a history nerd. The one thing that miffed me about the earlier section (immigration from 1500 until 1892), was that the exhibit seemed like it was trying too hard to be "fair and balanced" in regards to specifically the plight of the Indians/Native Americans, to the point that it was borderline (dare I say it?) anti-American. I am not stupid or naive enough to think the founding of America was all sunshine and roses, but the adjectives/tones used in regards to actions taken by settlers/the U.S. government, versus that taken with regards to Indian raids and wars, were much more negative or condemning. I am for telling history like it is, and as fashionable as the "oh the horrible settlers/the poor indians" mindset is these days, I don't think taking "sides" is good history study. Both had a lot of good, and a lot of not-so-good, on each side. The history and motivations of settlement versus native rights is complex, and I personally think it is not an issue of one being more or less "right" or "good" than the other. If you are going to tell history, tell it straight. Tell the good and the bad for both, but don't try to up-play the evils of one, and downplay that of of the other, to score some kind of political points. At least as much as possible. Ok. Rant over.

The most interesting section of the museum-- at least for me-- was the stuff detailing immigration from 1892 until the mid-1920s; basically, immigration during the Ellis Island period. It was the coolest because it came at the time when immigration became a much more regulated and regular thing. So there were things like passports, and boat ledgers, and certificates of citizenship or naturalization. It was fascinating to see in the ledgers where people where coming from, but more so when you realize that you are looking at the very writing of real people, taking down the information of real immigrants to this country. I feel like history can get quite rarified and abstracted, so it is really affecting-- at least to me-- when things like this create reminders that behind the stories, and the even the photos, that there were real flesh-and-blood people involved. For the same reason, I thought the room full of old passports showing the pictures and information of people from all over the world, a hundred years ago, was quite amazing. And I learned quite a lot about what groups of people came over, when and why. Like, I always knew that the Irish and Italians were a big group, as well as the Chinese in California. But I had no idea that Sweden was another country from whence a lot of people came over. I mean, I knew the midwest was a mecca for Scandinavians, but I always thought it was kind of an even hodgepodge. Not so. Domination by the Swedes, for sure. Also, side note on the pictures they had of the conditions/tenements recent immigrants lived in, at least in NYC: dude, what a shithole.

So, that was basically my week/weekend. Today I went to work (a little later than usual, since I had been up until 2:30am in the morning finally finishing that brief project. And I felt *so* much more relaxed now that it is off my plate for while. I was handed a document review project for the day (basically, proofing/copy editing of a brief before it goes to a court). It was on one of the first issues I had researched extensively and written up at work, and what do you know, most of what I had written was included in the brief. To be formally submitted as an argument, on behalf of the U.S. Government, in federal court. So, I thought that was pretty cool. Makes me feel like a) if nothing else, I don't suck at this whole "law" thing and b) my writing might actually be halfway decent (which was nice, considering the piece-o-crap my final brief project in school was, and the subsequent (and deserved) shellacking it received from my professor). So, at least I am doing something right.

That's all for this evening. I was thinking of going into some politics/philosophy I had been mulling over the last week, when I wasn't working on the brief. Except that it is again late at night, and I had hoped to get to bed earlier this evening. Goddamn it.

Until next time. Hopefully now that things have calmed down and aren't as pressing, I can *actually* do this blog on a more regular basis. For those of you reading, thank you for your patience. Have a good night.

Father's Day Weekend, part 1

Wow, so another week has flown by. Don't mean to be so lame with the updates, but I have been really busy! I got a rather large and intense case dropped on my desk this last week, so I have spent a lot of time working on that after-hours, so it leads to not so much time to blog. As always, unfortunately, I cannot discuss the details. Security clearance, and all. Suffice it to say, I often thought Hollywood made up a lot of stuff about urban New York criminal elements. Um, nope. All I need is some popcorn and a couch, and I am perpetually watching/living in one of those crime shows on like, USA or TNT or something.

After a busy, busy week at work, Friday was a welcomed sight. It was particularly nice because I got to see one of my friends from college. She is a year older than me, and ended up also going to law school, at George Washington. And is apparently working at the Manhattan DA's office. Side note: the Law & Order courthouse steps actually do exist! Like, it wasn't just a set-- the show shows the actual front of the state courthouse. It's pretty cool. I half expect to see Sam Watterson pop out any minute... And, it is surprisingly close to where I live. And by surprisingly close, I mean like, 4-5 blocks directly south. Who knew?

So anyway, we met up and exchanged work stories, at least to the extent we could. She apparently had just helped convict a guy on trial (she was working on the trial team, basically doing everything but the actual oral argument). So, ya know, that's pretty BAMF. We went to Little Italy, because it is near where she works/I live, and she had never gone. I took her to the Italian place I went to last week (exactly a week from when I took my friend, in fact). I tried the pasta, and as the last time I went, the food did not disappoint. Also, ridiculously cheap for NYC: I think our meals each were like $23 post-tax, pre-tip. And generous portions. We gabbed about our law school experience, and exchanged horror stories about applying to law school (I was applying to law school at the same time she was applying to transfer from the school in Chicago where she went for a year. Honestly, I feel like this blog would have been a lot more interesting if I had started it like eighteen months before I did; senior year was nuts, like sitcom-level ridiculousness. Oh well). But it was nice to see a familiar face from "the old country," as I like to say, and to have someone to talk to who can relate to your current life experiences.

My friend wanted to get home early; apparently she is living over by Columbia in Morningside Heights, and last week these three guys were found shot to death in an 88K BWM convertible parked like, right across the street from Columbia, and not too far from where my friend lives. The guys were killed execution-style, so the cops think (or so said the NY Daily News) that it was some kind of pointed drug-related hit, and not random crime. But, they haven't found the guy, and I can't blame my friend for being nervous, and wanting to get home before dark.

I had my own little adventure into new parts of NYC on Friday. After my friend left, at around 8:20PM, I got on the subway line I take to get to work. Except I took it farther into Brooklyn, as my boyfriend's friend who lives on Roosevelt Island, had a "gig" at this lounge club thing. I was so sketched out, because I was having to go into an unknown area of NYC after dark. I probably shouldn't admit this on a public blog, but I spent the last 30 minutes at work researching New York/Brooklyn neighborhoods, because I wanted to know if this club-- or getting to this club-- would require my going through the 'hood. Despite certain parts of it getting more yuppified, apparently there are many parts of Brooklyn that are as shady as shit. Luckily, the club was in Park Slope, which is apparently yuppie land (note: I do no say this disparagingly-- I love yuppie land, because it is clean and safe and mostly insulated from crimes to my person. Yay yuppies!) It was cool-- apparently, my boyfriend's friend is a jazz singer, and she was there with a band. Although jazz is not my favorite music genre, she had quite a good voice, and it was enjoyable. I remember thinking to myself, "looking around, here I am, 10PM on a Friday night, in a intimate lounge, listening to a local live band, in NYC. This is what being a twentyssomething or young adult should be about." For the first time, I actually felt like an "adult," rather than a glorified college student; I felt like I was really *living* my own life, going out and doing and being. It was a nice feeling.

The really nice thing, though, was that by boyfriend showed up! He flew in for the weekend so he could visit his folks for Father's Day. He flew into LaGuardia, and then took the cab directly to Brooklyn so he could make his friend's show. I think she was really happy to see him; it is always nice when old friends can just show up, and infuse some of your old life into the new life you are creating for yourself.

More happened this weekend, but I think I will have to make this a two-part entry, since it is 1:30AM and, yo, I have work tomorrow morning.

But, before I go, a few random thoughts about New York. Namely, ever since I have been here, I really can understand a lot of the references in the songs of one of my favorite singers, Billy Joel. Like, I always knew his songs were very heavily East Coast-driven, but there were references in them- many references- that I did not know were actually a thing. A good example is his song, You May Be Right. In it, he talks about being kind of a reckless person. First, until I came to New York and then listened to the song, I did not know it was New York-specific. It is. And, now I know why the song actually shows him being reckless. Like there is one line in there in particular, "I walked through Bedford-Stuy alone." And know I know: No. No, it is really not a good idea to walk through Bed-Stuy alone. Or in groups. Or just in general. Unless you have a death wish. I didn't even know that Bed-Stuy was a thing before I got here. I am pretty sure that, in the past listening to that song, I totally ignored that line, because it meant nothing to me. Additionally, I know have a kind of geographical point of reference for his songs, particularly The Downeaster Alexa. He sings about going to Montauk and the Long Island Sound, and I actually kind of have an idea of what and where that is! For a point of reference, until I started looking for housing for the summer, I had no idea that part of NYC-- namely, Brooklyn and Queens-- are actually technically on Long Island... Also, did anyone else know that "Mama Leone's" from another Billy Joel song is like, actually a place? Apparently it is a restaurant in Little Italy. I thought it was just some random reference from the singer's past or something, somewhere random. Or made up. Mind = blown.

Finally, did no one tell me AIDA, was a thing???? Seriously, I just discovered this musical exists (I had vaguely heard of its name, but had no clue what it was about). It is an Elton John rock/pop musical...set in ancient Egypt. Seriously, WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS EXISTED???? This is literally like my daydream, to somehow be transported back in time to live in that society. But the musical combines two hardcore nerd passions of mine-- musical theatre and ancient Egyptian history-- into one thing. Plus has modern, "rock" music. I have to see this show on Broadway or something before I die. *sigh* Honestly, part of the reason I like ancient Egypt so much, and find it so fascinating, is that I really feel sometimes that I should have been born in and lived in that society. It just is so fascinating, and not like anything we can know or experience today. PErhaps this is just me overly-romaticizing things, but I do really wish it were possible to live in that time and society. But, this is a deep psychological post for another day, not tonight.

To be continued...

Art, Italy and Noise, Oh My!

Well, I knocked one thing off of my bucket list. On Saturday, I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Actually, all things considered, this weekend in New York was really fun. I am liking this town more every day; I feel like it is literally impossible to be bored. You could live a lifetime or two, and never do all there is to do in NYC. But, I am getting ahead of myself.

Naturally, on Friday at 4pm I get assigned a research project so my boss can get something filed by the follow Tuesday (now, tomorrow). Not her fault-- I think the other side just kind of sprung this on her, and the filing deadline is tight. Anyway, the internet in the office is really, really, painfully slow. So, long story short, I was in the office until 7:30pm Friday night, thus totally blowing my opportunity to get to the dining hall (yes, I am on a meal plan. It was easier-- though not cheaper-- than trying to haul my cooking crap out to NYC in already-overfilled suitcases). Since I live like a 3 minute walk from there, I decided to swing by Little Italy for dinner.

I had no idea it was such a thing. First, it is Little. It butts up to Chinatown, but Chinatown has kind of taken it over; really, Little Italy is a few streets, surrounded by Chinatown. But it was definitely a happening place. They had police blockades on the main drag--Mulberry Street-- so it was like a street fair, with people walking up and down the middle of the street and all. Even at 8:30 at night, the touristy stores were all still open, and people had tables set up on the sidewalks selling all kinds of goods (including a full table of crucifixes and saint idols. Ok. But, I guess it is Little Italy, and Catholicism is like, a thing and all). And more Italian restaurants than you have ever seen in your life. And I don't mean like, hole-in-the-wall type places you see in like Chinatown. These were legit trying-to-be-fancy, mainstream restaurants. Even the little cafes were trying to class it up (some more than others... there were a couple of super-classy decorations around such as a scale replica in some cheap material of Michaelangelo's David sculpture [editing note: currently, the automatic spellchecker on Blogger thinks Michaelangelo is misspelled, or doesn't recognize it as a word. Are you kidding me?].

I initially set out to find this one restaurant I had found online that had good reviews, and mentioned that famous people sometimes hung out there. So I figured it would be a decent feed. However, on my way down Mulberry Street, I got talked into trying this other place by the not-too-shabby looking maitre'd (who was very good at his job of getting people to come in). And the food was very good; some of the better food I have had since being in NYC. And reasonably priced-- like, in general, but especially for New York. I had three meals for like $35ish including tax, before tip. I've paid that much for takeout Chinese in Chicago. I started with minestrone-- classic Italian, but usually not that exciting and kind of mundane. But, it was literally the best minestrone I've had. The broth was lighter and more broth-y than a lot of minestrones, which can kind of be thickish. So it was refreshing, even though it was hot soup. And it tasted very fresh. The entree I had was good, too. It was a chicken dish with mushrooms, onions, bell peppers, and a little bit of linguini as a starch. It was nice and light, and had the right balance between protein, vegetables, and carbs, so I didn't feel like a stuffed oompa-loompa [another editing note: Blogger recognizes "oompa-loompa" as a real word, but not Michaelangelo. Sad.] by the end. And, for dessert, I had... cannoli! It was a very good, chocolate chip cannoli, with a light dusting of powdered sugar. A tasty, sweet and rich, but not super heavy, end to a good meal. My boyfriend was super jealous when I sent him a picture of the cannoli. He is part Italian and very into italian food, and loooooves cannolis. So I got to be a bit (playfully) mean and taunt him with cannoli pictures. I tempered it though by promising that the next time he comes to NYC (in about a week), I will take him to Little Italy to get cannoli. And man, was Little Italy a happening place on a Friday night. Considering I didn't sit down until 8:30pm, I didn't finish dinner until like 9:45pm, the streets were still crowded, the stores were still open, and people were just sitting down to eat. Will definitely have to go back there again.

I must have been *really* tired from the week and night before, because I didn't wake up until noon on Saturday, which even for me is late. It was supposed to be a crappy-ish day with on and off rain, so I decided to go to the Met. I putzed around for a while, gathering work clothes that needed to be dry cleaned, dropped them off; since it indeed turned out to be a day of on and off rain, I then headed to the Upper East Side towards the Met.

Holy crap, man. Talk about how the other half lives. The Met is right off of Central Park, on 5th ave and like, 84th street. Smack in the middle of the likes of Park Avenue, Madison avenue. Basically, where I imagine a lot of Manhattan's most fabulous live. I did not know this beforehand (because I honestly don't really know where much is in New York). And it totally looks it. It is probably the cleanest part of New York I have been to yet, and you can tell they are trying to bring a pleasant, old-school, charming "vibe" to the area. Lots of boutique stores, lots of fancy looking apartment buildings with very long awnings up the walk, and doormen. The entry to the Met is cool, too, because as you walk up, several people have little tables set up to sell street art, usually handmade crafts or some kind of prints. I actually bought a couple, because they were real inexpensive and I thought they would make good accent art for places in my apartment back in Chicago. And they were small enough that I can in theory pack them (although let's be real here, I am going to be shipping things back to Chicago at the end of the summer. I even saved the box that my dad used to send me stuff here, for this very purpose).

The Met is amazing. I have been to a lot of museums in a lot of cities; a lot of museums in a lot of major, big cities around the world. The Met, in my experience, is only really rivaled by the Louvre in Paris, France. The thing is huge. I was there for about four hours, and only saw the Egyptian wing and the Modern Art wing (and they have like, 25 wings on 2 levels). The Egyptian collection was amazing. Like, I was speechless. Not even the Louvre's collection was this big. It just kept going, covering every period of ancient Egyptian history and cultural development. I saw several very famous pieces of artwork-- things that even non-ancient-art-history geeks would recognize from popular culture. And I learned something really cool, too: they apparently have decided who built the Great Sphinx. This must be kind of recent, because I was always under the impression that it was kind of a mystery. But I guess current scholarship has settled on one of the kings who built the Great Pyramids of Giza as having built the Sphinx as a representation of one of the sun gods. And, the most stunning thing of all: the Met's Egyptian collection has a temple in it. And I don't mean parts of a temple, I don't mean like a wall with which they use to reconstruct a version of the temple, like they sometimes do with tombs. I mean, in this big atrium room thing, they have a full, honest-to-god, ancient Egyptian temple complex, complete with the offering vestibule, the obelisks, statues from the site (as well as several unrelated statutes that they put in to more fully represent how a temple complex would be set up and decorated). I think they built the room specially for the temple, because they even had like a pond thing in front of it, as is often the case in holy places, I guess. Apparently what had happened, was in the 1960s, the U.S. did something nice for the then-Egyptian government, so as a thank you, the Egyptian government...gave us a temple. Because that's normal. But yeah, I guess they dismantled the thing, brick by brick and statute by statute, and carefully put it back together again in New York. It was one of the coolest things I have experienced, to actually step foot inside an ancient Egyptian temple (particularly since it's probably as close to getting into an actual temple as I will ever get, especially in light of *ahem* recent political developments in Egypt). SO yeah, my art history side was geeking out hardcore.

Being in the ancient Egyptian wing, and being all excited about everything, in a way made me kind of sad. It made me really wish that I didn't have to choose between career paths. I wish there were a way to do both ancient Egyptian curatorial studies, and criminal law. But the only real relevant subject in law is "art law," which is mostly a specialized field of property law dealing with galleries, dealers, collectors, museums and nations all bitching at each other over who *really* owns what piece. Kind of boring. Not nearly as interesting as the mob. I don't know; maybe I don't have to choose. I read an article about a 65 year old guy who was just beginning his medical residency. Apparently he had been in the business world for like 30 years, but decided he wanted to become a doctor, and did. Maybe I can just practice criminal law or something for a while, until I get bored with it, and then go back to school and do something else. I feel like being in the same career for like 30-40 years, even if you really liked it, would get mundane after awhile. Like, you will have seen most everything in that field there is to see. Maybe it won't be a bad idea to change it up after a while. I have no designs to work my way up to the tip-top of any field; I'd rather do what I like, then move on when I need a change.

Since I had gotten going so late in the day, I realized at some point around 5pm that I had not eaten for the day. The Met is interesting because in addition to the usual museum cafeteria, the museum actually has a couple of legit cafes. On my quest to find food, I also found that the Met-- during the summer seasons anyway-- has a rooftop terrace thing where they do cocktail/wine hour. So I went up to check it out (not because of the wine, as anyone who knows me will tell you I do not like wine, but because I heard rumors there would be food). Alas, the food selection was wanting (they had like, bags of chips), but the terrace/party itself was awesome. You were on the top of the building, looking straight down into Central Park, and straight out into the Manhattan skyline, in all four directions. At dusk-- although a cloudy dusk, since it kept sprinkling on and off-- it was one of the coolest views I had seen in a long time. Very scenic and picturesque. I got some good photos on my phone. But, as there was no food, I headed down to one of the museum's she-she cafes. The food was good, particularly for a museum/institution, and they definitely were going for a "real restaurant/cafe" vibe, but it cost more than my meal in Little Italy, for less food, and was not as good. But still, not a bad deal for a museum.

My last stop was through the Modern Wing, which was definitely worth it. I know a lot of people don't really like or "get" modern art, but I do. I think a lot of it is aesthetically pleasing, because I find abstraction and geometry very pleasing decoratively. And since learning about modern art in school, I can appreciate what the artists were trying to do, what they were responding to, etc. I admit that some modern art is, erm, more "successful" than others. I do contend that a lot of contemporary art--from like the last 15 years or so-- really is stretching the definition of what can and should be considered "art," even by what I think is my more liberal or permissive standards. If you ever wonder what I mean by that, next time you have a chance to go to Paris, France, check out the Pompidou Center. You'll see what I mean. But, this collection had mostly art from modern artists who have basically been legitimized in the establishment, field, etc. Artists from like 1900ish onwards. It was cool because, again, I got to see a lot of "famous" works by "famous" modern artists, including that big-ass painting of Mao done by Warhol. It was also cool because I finally got to see real Pollacks from his drip-painting phase. In all my study of art, I don't think I ever actually was able to see a Pollack drip painting. I think I may have seen some of his earlier works, before he got into his signature style, but not that. So that was cool. Also, they had some real Rothkos, which I had also never seen in real life (at least I don't think so; it is possible that I saw some in France, but I don't really remember). I mostly appreciated it because a few months ago I had seen a production of Red in Chicago, a play about Rothko's commission (and subsequent rejection of it) for The Four Seasons hotel. Side note: Red is a phenomenal play, even if you aren't really into art. If you ever get the chance, do go see it. You won't regret it.

So, that was pretty much my weekend. Not a bad one at that. Sunday was pretty uneventful; I had to do laundry, finally, and do some work for work, so I basically hung around the dorm. Laundry actually kind of turned out to be an ordeal, but it's not interesting enough to go into. Suffice it to say that the system doesn't run as smoothly as you would think, so it took me longer than I thought. My roommate finally showed up on Sunday, so now the apartment is full (I and my other roommates who share the other bedroom had been calling her "mysterious fourth," because we knew she was on the list to be rooming with us, but we were never told when she would be moving in. It's kind of a revolving door in the building generally, so it was never really known. Watched the Tony Awards, did work. A nice, calm day to end what had been a busy week. And now, on to the next in the city that never stops.

Random thoughts

So, these things I have thought about don't really go with the above post; they are just things that have intrigued me/annoyed me since being here, and just in general. So I thought they should get there own section, because it's not really worth a full post.

1. Construction. I have an unnatural hate for construction, construction workers, and pretty much everything to do with it. Why? Because it always disrupts my sleep and my quiet enjoyment of wherever it is I happen to be (usually, my own private room/property). And because I can't fricking seem to get away from it. Seriously. It follows me like some fricking voodoo curse. A week after I moved into my apartment in Chicago, they started tearing down the building next to me so they could build a new building. And across the street from my building, they spent the year renovation the inside and outside of an old post office so they could subdivide it into stores, and have been working on a hotel next to it, too. The fricking noises are constant. And they NEVER follow the goddamn rules. I looked up the Chicago noise ordinances: begin construction no earlier than 8am on weekdays and Saturdays, end no later than 8pm. Exceptions only for public emergency work (which, building for private entities shouldn't really count...). But, they would be out there at 7:30am, or staying late until 11:30pm, 12am. On several occasions, the people working across the street from me were there into the wee morning hours, making all kinds of racket I could hear even though I was 18 stories above them. I called the complaint line a couple times; nothing ever changed. Considering how corrupt Chicago is politically, I imagine someone, somewhere paid someone off or something. So it's We the little People who suffer.

Why do I bring this up? Because lo and behold, a few days after I get to New York and settle in, the lot across from my dorm is under construction! Looks like they are building up a whole new building. So for the last like 10 days, every morning except for Sundays I get woken up at around 7:30, 8am by the lovely sound of hammers on metal pipes and 2x4, which I can still hear even though I am 10 floors up, have a loud air conditioner running, and am wearing earplugs rated to 33dB cancellation. I. Hate. Construction. I looked up the NYC noise ordinance: they, by law, can only be out there from 8am until like 6pm, and have to take a lot of noise-cancelling precautions. So, I get home tonight at a little before 9pm, thanks to a long day at work, and what do I hear? CONSTRUCTION NOISE FROM THE GODDAMN LOT. If I have to put up with their crap in the morning, I sure as hell am not going to put up with listening to that bullshit at night, when I am trying to wind down for the day (and not for just me: like, 9 pm is legitimately a time people start thinking about getting ready for and going to bed. Not ok.). I literally had the phone in my hand and was dialing the complaint line when they finally stopped. But if they pull this bullshit again, you better believe I will be calling in their asses. No forgiveness. If I were ruler of the world, my first decree would be that construction could only happen between the hours of 11am and 5pm, Mon-Fri. Anything over that would be punishable. By death. Again, I hate construction with a passion.

2. Supermarkets, and grocery stores generally. One thing I have noticed about NYC that is weird to me, is the lack of like, normal grocery stores. So far, I have seen places like Kmart sell food, or little Mom-and-Pop joints, but they don't really sell a full grocery store's worth of food. Like, it is mostly things like packaged foods and delis. And they are usually teeny. When I was over in the Upper East Side, I did see one place that looked like a legit grocery store, but it looked like one of these bougie overpriced stores that you see in wealthy places, like Andronico's Market (this reference will be lost on people from outside the San Francisco Bay Area/Peninsula). I haven't seen like a Safeway or a Dominick's or a Ralph's, or even a Trader Joe's. Like, even in Chicago we have urban outposts of major market chains like those named above, relatively frequently. I haven't seen one national supermarket chain, and other than that place up in the Upper East Side, any place that looks like it sells any kind of decent selection of things like fresh fruits and vegetables and non-processed breads. One kind-of grocery store had a few apples and bananas, but that was it. Do people in New York not do supermarkets? Do have to go to like, specialty shops and stands and things to get each kind of food, like you do in France? I have seen some Farmers' Markets around town, but that is as close to readily-avalable fresh produce and such as I have seen. This is very strange. If we can get supermarkets and produce in the frozen tundra that is the Chicago winter, they should be able to get fresh food in NYC.

Battle Cry of an Iconoclast

Hello. My name is Kristin, and I am an iconoclast.

And no, I don't mean those old religious people who like 500 years ago were against images of God or whatever. I mean, over the last several years, I have developed a world-view that in many ways, goes against currently-accepted social thought. Some of that thought is relatively recent neo-liberal doublethink, some of it is 1000s of years of human thought. Which means, I will probably at some point in my life hurt/piss off/offend people who have bought into any of the above. I honestly don't know what to do; I don't hold any of these beliefs in malice or to harm anyone. I hold these beliefs because at my core being, the one principle I hold above all others, is that humans were and are meant to be free. That humans have a right and deserve to be free. Honestly, that is why I am interested in criminal law: I believe that criminals take from others that right. I don't construe freedom as, "let's all just run wild like hyenas." I construe freedom as the ability to choose the definitions and experiences of one's own life, in ways that do not palpably harm another (in terms of physical violation or property violation; I get off the boat at "emotional distress" or "offense.") But, I feel like not so many people--friends, family, loved ones, co-workers-- will not be so understanding of my beliefs, and will some how take it personally that I hold them. So, I guess this is in my in-advance apology. If I say or do anything to upset you out of these beliefs, know that I do it not because I think less of you, but because just as some cling fervently to their religion or their country or their politics or their cause, this desire for freedom is my religion. I cannot let it go any more than the Pope can let go of his faith.

So, here are some of the things I believe, that will probably make me a social pariah. Alas.

1. Religion. Why? Why should I construe my life or behavior according to what some guys (because let's be real, most religions were written by men) wrote down a long time ago? This isn't even getting to the question of whether a god or gods exist (although, its existence wouldn't change my belief; if a god or god-like power exists, it has shown itself to be a tyrant of sorts, and goes against humanity's right to freedom and self-determination). I am totally willing to admit that when they wrote the rules, many--perhaps most-- came out of the practical needs and realities of the time and societies in which they arose. Great. But times change, people change, society changes and moves on. Why should the dictates of 500, 2000, 4000 years ago still be relevant to my life, to my own sense of morality? Obviously, there are the basics: don't lie, don't steal, don't kill anyone. But beyond that, so much has changed. The world is not at all structured the way it was back in the day. I think the core of religions is basically, "don't be a jerk." Beyond that, why should it matter if my hair shows, if I eat meat on Fridays, if I use birth control, if I get married, if I don't get married, if I have one partner, if I have many?

2. The "American work ethic." I believe in hard work, I believe in believing in what you do, and trying to do it to the best of your ability. I believe that what you put into life, you should get out of it, but you should not just be handed things. That being said, I disagree with this mentality (not helped by the shitty economy) that you will or should jump through whatever hoops your boss puts in your way. I don't think working 80,90 hours a week is healthy. I don't think being "on call" 24/7 is healthy (thank you, Crackberries and SmartPhones). I also don't think being a lazy bum is healthy. This kind of goes along with the idea of, "everything in moderation." Take pride in your work, and do it well. But I refuse to sacrifice meaningful relationships (or, perhaps more urgently, my mental or physical health) for a job.

3. The problem of the "work-life balance" in America. Now, all of the following is heresy, but I have heard that a lawyer friend of the family who lives and works in Paris (he is French), doesn't take his work laptop with him on holiday. "Work is work, and vacation is vacation." And, at least as far as I can tell, his bosses and clients are just kind of...fine with that. In China, apparently, the family would be totally chill if you missed Granny's funeral because some major thing came up at work. Try pulling that in this country, and you will never hear the end of it, from both ends. "Where is the memo?" "Why weren't you at Bobby's State Championship hockey game?" Sometimes, I have this fantasy of putting my family, my boss and my clients into one room, and giving them the following speech: "Sometimes, I have to work, even when important things come up with the family. Other times, I have to be with the family, even if shit is blowing up at work. Sometimes, I will choose work over family. Sometimes, I will choose family over work. And all of you (pointing and squinting)... will just FUCKING DEAL WITH IT AND NOT GIVE ME SHIT ABOUT IT. Thank you. That is all." Because in both situations, we have people who are counting on us, whose very lives may be at stake at one time or another. And often times, there will be impossible conflicts, and you have to choose. That's compromise. That's life. Is it really so hard for the relevant parties to even try to understand?

4. Marriage/monogamy/til death do us part. Apparently, biological humans (homo sapien sapiens) have only spent about 5% of their history in long-term monogamous relationships (probably helped by the fact that tree-people humans croaked at age 25). Only 3-5% of all animal species are in paired-off relationships. It was a combination of thinking about all the recent celebrity sex scandals, the ridiculously-high divorce rate (and higher rate of infidelity, often leading to divorce), and a monologue in The Iceman Cometh, where this one character talks about how radical Marxism echews traditional marriage or relationship structures, because they are based on property and ownership, got me thinking. Forget for a moment that a bunch of recent research suggests humans are actually biologically programmed for, essentially, stable-ish relationships with a bit on the side. Fuck biology, because as people will argue, humans are cognitively able to overcome their base biological urges/instincts/etc. I think just from a freedom perspective, the Marxists may have a point (one of the few things on which they do). Isn't the whole idea that while in a relationship, married or not, the partners somehow "belong" to each other, kind of sick? This kind of goes along with number one, on religion. Historians, anthropologists, biologists suggest that monogamy arose as a response to the development of agricultural societies and the need to know "who da baby-daddy" for property-transfer interests. It arose in a situation where women and children were entirely dependent on the man, so you needed to know who was responsible. At least in the West, while not perfect by any means, we are more or less out of that kind of situation. And, back in the day, people croaked young. Now, the "ideal" sets us up for marriages or partnerships of 30, 40, 50, 60 years of being with the same person, and never shall you touch another. That seems very...wrong, in a way. Or it does to me. 50 years is a long time.

So now the idea is that you should and can only ever love one person at a time-- emotionally, physically, etc. But is this right? Are people fundamentally incapable of having a meaningful, loving relationship with more than one person? Why should they be? Love-- and I don't just me the freaky kind (although I think there is something to be said for the proven human biological need for a variety of physical sexual experiences), I mean the real, emotional connection people can have-- is one of the greatest things there is; why should it be limited to one person at a time? And why does it necessarily follow that if you feel such a connection for one person, feeling that for another will somehow take away from your feelings towards the first? I am not saying we should have a license to be irresponsible, because there are concerns over disease and the like. But are we really helped by the fact that people, while living the "fantasy" ideal relationships, have been dinking around with others forever-- and then lying about it, such that disease is more likely to be spread (syphilis in Europe circa 1900s, anyone)? I am not an idiot or a hypocrite; I admit I would be upset if someone "cheated" on me. But is this natural? Is this really the way it should be? Or have we been socially conditioned to think that such infidelity is some kind of personal insult, and not just the expression of the ultimate human need to love and be loved? I love my boyfriend, and I have never and would never do any of the above because we are in a relationship, because I know it would hurt him. And he is the last person on Earth who deserves to be hurt. But, perhaps we are doing ourselves a disservice-- and unintentionally caging those we love most-- by construing love, relationships, and marriage the way society has conditioned us to see and understand them. The strong are the ones who can keep trucking through, and "fight upstream" against the natural current, out of their love for another. My question is, why should this be a battle to begin with?

4. Political correctitude. Don't even get me started. I am going to throw something at the next person who says "diversity" or "sustainable" at me. Why? Not because I am inherently against these ideas, but because all these BS platitudes are kind of a way to curtail freedom of speech and expression. While liberals will tell you that things like calling handicapped people "differently abled" is a way to have them "own" their situation, I can tell you where it actually leads. I am even willing to accept the good intentions of these PC people. But, "the path to Hell is paved in good intentions." Because what it sets up, is a certain vocabulary of "accepted speech." Because to buy into the PC term du jour, you have to buy into its foundation, which is essentially that no one should be made to feel uncomfortable or offended or insulted, ever, for any reason. Not for their race, religion, career, social status, sex, sexual orientation, physical disability, political views, etc. etc. I am not saying go out on the street and start throwing gratuitous slurs and insults towards people. But the idea that everyone should be shield from uncomfortable or confrontational speech, is basically the antithesis of freedom of expression, freedom of speech, which-- at least at one point-- were considered in this country foundational, fundamental human rights. And how far down the road of unaccepted speech will it go? At what point is "bad" speech not just calling someone the "N" word, or a "slut," a "wop," "fag," and into absurdities like, you can't call someone fat or even "big" (even if they are objectively overweight) because that word has a negative connotation. Or "short," even if it is objectively true, because that has a negative connotation? Or "poor?" You see where I am going with this? It becomes absurd, to the point where we can't express anything disagreeable at all. Which is unnatural. And turns into a situation that is a lie. Like that episode of the Twilight Zone where the whole town always has to say creepily positive things or this demon kid will kill them with ESP. People --humans-- have a range of emotions, anger and calm, love and hate, passion and collective contemplation. And to be truly free, humans need to be able to express these things (obviously, not in wildly inappropriate ways, like beating the crap out of someone or shooting them). But forgive me for being contrarian, but I do not think there is anything fundamentally wrong with given someone a good, old-fashioned, possibly insulting bitch-out, if needed. It is part of what makes us human. Deny us one half of our emotions, and we lose part of our humanity.Or what about political speech? Go too far down the road of the idea of "accepted speech" and "unaccepted speech" in politics, and, well, I hope you enjoy going to "Dear Leader" rallies and goose-stepping.

5. "Being green;" aka, OMFG CLIMATE CHANGE WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE! Quick, let's go back to living in trees. I am not one of those people who will categorically deny that climate change is happening. I also will not categorically accept it as gospel truth. Because I am not a scientist, I haven't done any tests, I haven't done the studies, I wouldn't know how to do the research. But, I feel the subject is so politicized, and everyone has some kind of ideological axe to grind, it is really hard to trust studies-- on either side, yay or nay, as objectively truthful. But, in the end, it doesn't matter. Perhaps this is more nihilist than iconoclast, but the climate is going to change eventually. Hotter or colder, it doesn't matter. It was going to happen. And if humans are contributing, we are only speeding up the inevitable. So why are we running around like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to figure out how to make our lives less enjoyable for the sake of the "environment." I don't think we should allow the planet to turn into a toxic waste dump, because I enjoy, um, breathing. But, c'mon California. Banning fireplaces? People have been burning wood for millennia. This is not the cause of our problems, such as they are. And fireplaces make life more enjoyable. I know! We should make people buy "Carbon credits" for breathing, since breathing produces greenhouse gasses. And there are almost 7 billion of us on the planet. That's a lot of CO2. And what about the animals? They all breathe. And there are a hell of a lot more of them than us. We should tax them, too. I kind of liken it to one of my other personal life philosophies: I would rather live to 70 living an enjoyable if not entirely healthy lifestyle, than live to 90 by eating leaves and exercising 4 hours a day. Life's short, life's tough, we have but a moment on this Earth, why sweat the things we cannot control, and stop denying ourselves the petty, small enjoyable things?

Well, by now I have probably upset or worried or pissed off whoever is reading this in at least one way. My apologizes. No, I am not depressed. I actually quite like bopping around this Earth; I just wish it could be more on my own terms. Perhaps I have just picked up too much philosophy in my education, and in my overly-introspective mind, have used that to turn what I see into, "all the ways by which people put themselves into boxes, either individually or collectively." If you couldn't tell, I am much more of an individualist than a collectivist.

Well, now that I have told you more of my world-view than you ever needed to know, I must retire as I have work tomorrow. A work, by the way, that I quite enjoy. I am actually having a bang-up time in NYC; I don't want to leave. This is not a screed of, "life sucks," so much as a, "how could life be better?" Didn't Socrates say something about the unexamined life?

Goodnight all, and I hope you days are filled with true choice and freedom.

Bureaucracy and Things I Want to Do

Yesterday I came across one of those moments that makes being "an adult" such a pain in the ass sometimes: pointless bureaucracy. I went to the local Walgreens to fill a prescription. Backstory: the prescription was written about a month ago by my sleep specialist in Chicago. Since I was leaving Chicago very shortly, but had only started the next (and last) prescription round, he wrote me out a prescription so I could fill it when I was in New York. I went to the Walgreens after work, and handed it to the pharmacy technician. Five minutes later, the guy calls me and is like, "oh the prescription is a month old, so it is expired and we can't fill it." (Btw, I believe it was expired by like a day. I also didn't know these things expired). So, I call the doctor's office in Chicago (which was luckily still open), and try to get the doctor to talk to the pharmacist. Unfortunately, the pharmacy was in the basement of the Walgreens, and reception was shitty. So I gave the doctor the pharmacy's phone number, and he was going to call them to give the prescription. So I wait. For about 20 minutes. Finally, the same pharm tech told me that "oh, your doctor left a message on our answering machine, and did not speak to the pharmacist directly, in person. Since your prescription is a controlled substance [I thought all prescriptions were controlled?], New York state law prevents us from filling it until we speak with your doctor personally." I tried arguing with the tech, then the pharmacist himself. And of course by this time the doctor's office in Chicago had closed. So, I left drug-less (which is annoying, because this is the medicine that helps me stay awake during the day like a normal person). I called again today, and the last I heard was that the pharmacy had called the doctor's office again and had left a message with the receptionist, and was waiting for the sleep doctor to call back. I didn't get to go to the pharmacy today because I had to stay later at work, and by the time I left, I was tired, wanted dinner, and decided to say, "fuck it." Hopefully it will be there tomorrow. Oy. What a production it has been to get one damn drug. Why is it that the states with the most people (California, Illinois, New York-- all to which I have been) invariably have the most asinine rules and overregulation?

So, rant over. I have been thinking about it, and have made a mental list of things I want to do or accomplish while I am in New York. I am posting it here so you all can see if and what extent I accomplish my mission. I will be editing this particular post (by strikingthrough-ing the various items on the list) every time I do one of these things, so you all can follow my progress (I will also most likely write more extensively about them in subsequent posts)

1. Visit the Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island. For obvious reasons. One of the quintessentially touristy New York things to do. I should also check to see if any of my ancient relations came through Ellis Island, so I can look them up or whatever. [X]

2. Visit the World Trade Center memorial. Again, pretty self-explanatory. [X]

3. Go to the top of the Empire State Building. I hear you aren't supposed to do this, but I really want to drop a penny off the top or something.[X]

4. Go to a Yankees game. Yes, I hate the Yankees (as does pretty much anyone who is not from New York), but it is summer, and it is baseball season. And the Yankees are an American institution of sorts. It's a thing. But, I am still pissed they tore down the old Yankee Stadium. I seriously cannot believe that they would tear down such a relic of American history. I will probably be rooting for not-Yankees, however.

4. Go to the Central Park Zoo. My boyfriend and I tried this when he was here this past weekend, but we couldn't find it. But I love fluffy animals, and I wanna see them![X]

5. Go on some of the rides in the carnival section of Central Park. I am secretly five years old at heart, and have always been a rides junkie since I was a kid.

6. Take of one those horse-drawn carriage rides around Central Park. It is one of those New York things to do if you are a tourist (and let's face it, despite living here for a couple months, I basically am). Plus, I think Central Park is gorgeous, and would like the opportunity to see more of it in a leisurely fashion.

7. See Shakespeare in the Park. The Shakespeare in the Park is doing a bunch of shows of both Shakespeare and Sondheim. I am a self-confessed theatre groupie, and these events combine my two favorite concepts: live theatre, and "free."

8. Be in the audience of The Late Show, The Colbert Report, and/or The Daily Show. I missed my opportunity to be in the audience of Oprah while it was still going on in Chicago. And I always thought it would be cool to be a studio audience member. And I love those shows. The one problem is that they tend to film during the day, when I am at work. Maybe on July 4?

9. Be a random extra in a film or TV show. When I was leaving work today, I noticed a bunch of trailers and shit on a road near my building. I overheard some woman ask this guy what was going on, and he said they were filming for a TV show, White Collar (I have never seen said show, although I have heard of it). I thought about sticking around, but it was after work and I was tired and hungry, and it was cold out. I imagine though, that random filmings happen pretty frequently in New York, so hopefully I can be around for one.

10. Go shopping on Fifth Avenue. Despite it being I am sure tres cher, 5th Avenue is such a New York thing, how could you not do at least a little shopping, even if it is just to buy a hat or something?

11. Go to Frank Restaurant. This restaurant was recommended to me by a friend who went with her mom to New York a few months ago. I heard it was good and reasonably-priced. I have been meaning to go, but have not yet gotten around to it, although I recently discovered that it is not too far from where I am living.

12. Go to some she-she restaurant/bar in Manhattan. Again, as a New York thing to do, a place to go to "see and be seen." It would be interesting to spend one night "how the other half lives." Who knows, maybe I will run into some famous person?[X]

13. Go to Coney Island. I have heard that it is kind of a shadow of its former shelf, but it is a historic, very "New York" thing to do. Also, apparently there are still some rides there, and as we have established, I am a rides junkie.

14. See Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Yes, yes, I know. I have seen it on stage at least twice, and own the movie. But it is Phantom. On Broadway. It is like, THE Broadway show. There are whole tourist shops in Times Square named after the show because it has been there so long. It is just... a thing.[X]

15. Go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the MoMA. The art history geek in me really wants to check out one of the arguably best museums in the country (The Met), and one of the pre-eminent modern art museums in the world. Am totally looking forward to the ancient Egypt section at the Met.[X]

So, there it is, my New York "bucket list" of sorts. I imagine the majority of this will have to be done on the weekends, as I don't get off from work until around 5:30pm on weekdays. It will be interesting to see what I manage to accomplish in my short time here.

Until next time...

One Week in New York City

So, unintended hiatus from blogging for almost a week, thanks in part to my residence building deciding to re-work the wireless connections, thereby rendering me internet-less for about three days. And then the boyfriend came and visited me over the weekend; so between all of that, I haven't had much time to just sit down and blog.

Despite my initial reservations about NYC (namely, it being dirty), I am coming to actually really like NYC-- it is basically everything I want in a city: there is always something going on, somewhere to go, something to do. If you haven't noticed, a big theme in my life is, "I don't want to be bored," and it is very hard to be bored in this city. Granted, I spend the majority of my day working during the week, but after hours and on the weekends, I really have no reason to stay inside and do nothing.

So far, I have been to Union Square and in and around Times Square, plus Central Park and Roosevelt Island. I like that New York has a lot of mini-parks and squares where one can sit for a while and just chill/people watch/hide from the heat. The first few days I was in the city were nasty-- hot and unbearably humid. Being able to sit in the shade at one of these places was a lifesaver. But, nothing beats Central Park. The last time I was (very briefly) in New York, I saw the Park from kind of a distance, and my memory of that view is hazy at best. While the boyfriend was in town, I was actually finally able to get there. And it was super cool! I had always known it was big and rather wild (in terms of just kind of letting things grow), but had no idea how pretty it was. Very lush and green-- quite the contrast from the rest of New York. And not kept up in the way that gardens and parks are generally kept in, say, France: while there is generally an organized scheme, and bits where there is grass and footpaths, a lot of the wildlife is left to just be, and grow. It does really give you the illusion of being in some kind of wilderness or countryside-type place. You will see lots of different animals (particularly birds) just chilling. There are old stone bridges that go over waterways and ponds. And yet at the same time, the park contains a zoo (which we sadly couldn't find), a mini-theme park for kids and, at least while we were there, a stage which was playing a Gavin DeGraw concert. It is quite the interesting mix of just rote nature, and planned human presence. We were only there briefly, as the sun was going down, so I will definitely have to make it back there to go to the zoo/ride the rides/take one of those old-school carriage rides through the park. My boyfriend told me that they do Shakespeare in the Park during the summer, and best yet, it is free (one of the few things in this town that are, apparently). Should definitely look into that. I also apparently got some of the grant money for the summer, so I am not a po' as I thought I was. Which is nice. Because thanks to buying set-up supplies, and a MetroCard, and doing get-to-know you social things, I probably dropped... lots of money this week already. A little piece of my Credit Card dies every time I swipe it here.

Times Square was...Times Square. I had been there before, that one time I came out here, and that is where I spent most of that day, so I remembered it pretty well. Although I had not been there yet on this trip. It is pretty much what you have seen on TV, in movies, etc. One thing I didn't remember (although I am sure it was there) from the last time, was all these random people just dressed up as random characters, for photo ops for money. I don't know what to say about that, other than it is random. I have seen people like all painted one color and doing street dances for cash before, but this is literally people who just go out and buy a Spongebob costume or something and dress up and mill around Times Square. I wonder how much money these guys make. The thing that really was weird to me about Times Square, was that while I was in one of the stores, the sun had set and it was dark out, but looking out to the people on the street, it was so light that I couldn't tell. Because of all the crazy lights in Times Square, it was so bright that it literally seemed like it was still day, even though it was 9:30 at night. I have never seen anything like that before, pretty much ever.

We also went to Roosevelt Island to go to this party hosted by a friend of my boyfriend. First, I didn't even know this Roosevelt Island existed. It is kind of strange; it is like literally an island of basically "urban" suburbia (apartment buildings and condos, but not high-denisty or hi-rises) surrounded by New York. First, it is an amazing view of the NY skyline. And it is very quite and like, way cleaner than Manhattan. The island literally has one street. Apparently it was all built up as a planned community, and it definitely looks like it: all the buildings, whether stores, condos, apartments or like, the local school, all are built in buildings that are very nice, but clearly built using the same plan. They all look very similar, and are all kind of related or attached to each other in some way. The only exception is this one church that, by the looks of it, is about 100 years old. The annoying thing about the island, is that it only has one subway stop serviced by one subway line, which thanks to construction on that line, made getting to the island ridiculous (we had to go halfway into Queens so we could get on the line going back in to Manhattan, then get off at Roosevelt island. I think we ended up going like a mile or two more East than we would otherwise had to have gone. Luckily, we did not have to actually leave the station while we were in Queens...). Otherwise, it was very pleasant, and I could see why people who like the city, but want to get away from its craziness, would choose to live there. So, never a dull moment. Which, honestly, is how I prefer things.

The coolest thing about New York, though, is the fact that you can just meander around, and randomly walk into something happening. My boyfriend and I had no idea that a Gavin DeGraw concert was happening in Central Park; we just happened to wander into it. And when we were walking around Rockefellar Center to get to Central Park, we randomly found a cool street fair, that had handmade wares and art and stuff being sold (the boyfriend even got me a cool retro pocket-watch type necklace by haggling with this lady, something I am not very good at. Haggling always feel so awkward to me. Like isn't the price of something like, what it says it is? I thought in America you could only haggle for like, cars and houses). Chicago even really doesn't operate like this; it does so more in the summer, but even still it is usually more formal things like a Taste of Chicago or the Blues Festival. I have yet to wander upon a random street fair (as opposed to a farmers market, which do randomly happen in Chicago as well as NYC). I love how here, you must expect the unexpected.

Anyway, I started my job on Tuesday, as it was Memorial Day on Monday and thus a government holiday. I have to say, for all my grousing about law school, at least so far I actually quite like it. Because unlike school, it doesn't have the daily monotony of class-homework-bed, and with a few minor exceptions, it functions like a job: when I go home at 5:30 every night, I am basically home, and don't have to think about work until the next day. Obviously this is not always true, as sometimes the lawyers stay late to prep for trial, but it is not the same as school, where even when you are home, you work has just begun. My typical day will be spending a few hours doing research, then going to observe a trial, then going to something like a witness prep. I really appreciate that the internship people have tried to organize it so that the interns aren't just doing research gophering, but actually get to see and participate in the many different parts of criminal litigation. On Friday, I got to go to a sentencing hearing. And by go to, I don't mean just sit in the public audience section. One of the attorneys I have been assigned was litigating a sentencing hearing for a guy who had convicted a couple months ago. As her intern, I got to go with her and actually sit at the prosecution table. My name was read and recorded as being in attendance and everything. Obviously, as I am not a lawyer, my role was watching and observing, but still... it was pretty sick. I think if I ultimately stick with it (which is seeming more likely, as none of the jobs I applied to have come through, and I am actually enjoying the work I do. It is such a shame that one cannot apprentice for being a lawyer any more, and that one has to be in school. I think my problems are more to do with the school part, not the actual lawyering part. It is so much more satisfying to do work that you know actually means something in the real world, and isn't just being submitted for a grade) I will definitely try to go into something in the criminal vein. I is just so...fascinating, particularly since it is so much of what you see on TV or something, now actually being played out in reality.

Anyway, that is probably enough for tonight. I do have work tomorrow. So I am going to read some Vanity Fair then hit the sack. The one thing New York hasn't been good for (aside from my wallet), is my iconoclasm. With all the fabulous things to buy, plus my discovery of Manhattan magazine, I am again falling into, "money is awesome!" mentality. Because it is. I love buying things, and so many cool, awesome, expensive things to buy. And I hate being a poor student. Seriously. I like doing my own thing, I like having fun, and I like doing things, and I like not being boring, but doing all of that costs money! Particularly after reading Manhattan, I was like, "hmmm maybe I should consider selling my soul for a few years doing transactional law for obscene amounts of money..." And then I pinched myself until the notion went away. Still, there is something to be said for not totally negating or writing off the benefits of trying to find a financially stable and lucrative job. Wouldn't it be nice if I could find a financially lucrative job that wasn't boring AND allowed me free time? Unfortunately, criminal work is usually paid for by the government, so I won't be raking in the dough any time soon. But at least it is really interesting; I won't be bored. That's got to count for something.

Actually, this all kind of reminds me of one of my favorite quotes ever, taken from The Sound of Music (even though I kind of hate that musical): "I like rich people. I like the way they live. I like the way I live when I am with them."