Page 2 candy brackets

Finally, something I can get excited about in Law School. However, it's a total travesty that goddamn Red Vines knocked out Twisslers in the first round. And what the fuck are candy corn and bit-o-honey both doing in a bracket? Those crap candies should have been in the play-in game, no way both deserve a slot in the big dance. And do they even sell candy cigarettes anymore? Plus, they sucked. They would fall apart in your mouth, and tasted like dried out asshole with some sugar sprinkled on it. Obviously, I once thought they were cool. Then, I realized nicotine worked waaaay better.

Salt Lick

At the magical place called the Salt Lick, they bring you plates heaped with meat, potato salad, and cole slaw. And to top it off, the place is in a dry county, but they allow BYOB. So you roll in with a cooler of beer, an empty stomach, and a free afternoon to recover. On the way out, you can watch them cook the meat over the open smoke pit, which is pretty fucking awesome in my opinion.

They should have never given this kid a camera.

So I realize most people got digital cameras sometime in the '90's. Sorry folks, it took me long enough to fly on an airplane, much less get a camera not called a "Funsaver". But these are the first (of likely very many) few pictures I captured with my new digital device; obviously the leaves do not change in Austin like they do in North Carolina. Obviously, also, my apartment building looks sketchy, but is actually located across the street from an elementary school playground. And next door to that, the lovely Hyde Park Senior Center. I get the feeling perhaps I'm the sketchiest element in the neighborhood.

Sadly, the Playground is across the street

photos of my apartment in Austin, with absolutely no explanation

final

It's not finals because I only had one. One and done, I guess you could say. The contrast of my final exam with the rest of my examination lifestyle is shocking. As opposed to good clothes and a solid breakfast, I wore mesh shorts and had a banana. Instead of studying all night, I went to bed at 2am and had not finished 2 of the 4 books on the test. And up till about 15 min before it began, I was debating skipping this administration for the next one, a week later. And how did all this turn out? Well, on an exam of 5 questions, I somehow decided that 1 might be optional. Thinking this was optional, I obviously did not do it. And obviously again, this was a retarded mistake. Luckily for me, Linda Wagner-Martin is a badass. When emailed to ask if I had missed a question, her first reply was that she hadn't even unpacked them yet; then, the confirmation email that I had in fact ignored an entire question. At this point, many professors would give me some partial credit scheme, or another prompt, something to make up the slack. Good old L-WM gives me the exact copy, an empty office, and an entire day to do the question. That, folks, is a perk of being a senior.

#1

Figures that I should get around to this on the last day of classes. When I began this prolonged process of listing (not really been on top of posting daily lately) I didn't know what all of them would be. I didn't know where I would go to law school. I definitely didn't know if I would be a Carolina student for 3 more years or not. But I knew what would be number 1. This one isn't a specific problem, more of a general feeling I get from the school and the town. It is becoming a city of ghosts for me. Every Dorm, every classroom, even benches and trees, are memories of people that aren't here, or there, anymore. Morrison is like the gutted skeleton of my undergraduate career; the building is there, but it's not like I left it. Chase is gone, Ray Felton is gone, and in just a few days the rest of my class will be as well. Not that I blame this on the school, or the town of chapel hill. If everyone could live here forever, then the experience would be as cheap as a cosmic burrito (veggie with sour cream, please). It's the fact that we come here lost and confused, and leave in much that same way that creates the warm, fond memories of Chapel Hill. It's not sullied by our first jobs, our failed marriages, and the shadow of our hometown's gossip. It's a waystation where we all come in out of the rain of real life, have a drink or two, then move on. I'd love to catch everyone in a bottle and take them to Austin with me, but it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be as cool to see that kid from CTOPS finally out at the bar, and it would hurt much worse to find out that girl has a steady boyfriend who goes to State. Things are softer here, like the pain of rejection, the fear of responsibility, and the pressure of life. Some people would say it's unrealistic, that college kids are living in a bubble of privilege. We are; but we (for the most part) earned it, and the real world comes calling soon enough. So I hate UNC for reminding me of that first day when I rode the CTOPS bus, and that terribly awkward name game played in a circle in Dey. And for that first day of finals, no sleep and 2 cigarettes outside of Hamilton in the rain. Waking up to 90 degree heat with NO A/C in Ehringhaus. Finding my roommate passed out on top of his girlfriend in the hall. And all the rest of the times, things stupid to remember like eating at chickfila or taking a nap in the union. I don't hate UNC for giving me all this, and its a selfish hate to wish it wouldn't make me remember. But we're all a little selfish in the end aren't we?