I Returned One January.

It’s hard to find inspiration in New York to write like I used to. Even on its best days the city still feels a little suffocating. All of the vegetation is dead, so when the sun comes out it’s kind of sad—like a lover coming back to an empty home. I whisper reassuring words to the sky on my walk to class: “They’ll come back in the spring, the grass, and flowers, and trees. Don’t you worry.”

Poor thing.

The sun won’t come out tomorrow—well at least according to this forecast. It’ll be overcast with a high of 24 degrees.

Tallahassee on the other hand handled winter with a certain dignity and poise. And waking up to 30 degree weather could be refreshing because the sky would be blue (and you could see the sky), the city is still mostly green and quiet. Perfect for inciting the whit and metaphors that a proper blog entry requires.

I’m not sure if I am regaining my powers or whether they never left me. Surely, Marvel was right to call me a Disney Princess. Besides the fact that both I and the other princesses believe in a little fable I like to call “true love” we have another, more practical, thing in common. Things work out for us. The big difference between the girls and me is that unlike them, I lack a certain faith that things will work out. I don’t have a song that declares that someday everything will be different as I humbly mop the floor or run errands. I don’t confide in rodents and small scavenging birds that soon my ship will come in. I complain and worry.

Do things work out for me? Always. And when times are good, I’ll be the first one to say so. But when it doesn’t look like I’ll come out on top, I lose all hope. Even when the situation hasn’t revealed itself either way I am inclined to believe it won’t be good for me. I wonder what my life would be like if I had confidence in myself, in my love life, in my professional life, just among friends.

Well January has been an interesting month. I was able to meet Chris freaking Botti and the band. It was a great concert and an amazing way to start off the year. And just last weekend, I went to see Esperanza Spalding do a late evening show. Before attending, I met up with my friend, Steph from the New York Times, for drinks at this swanky pizza bar on the lower east side. I can never get enough of “drinks” in New York, something about the whole business makes one feel so grown-up. We made friends with the bar tender by using a combination of our strengths: my witty and awkward banter regarding the lack of pepperoni pizza on the menu of a pizza bar and her being beautiful. Unsure which one of us worked our magic, We made his night and he gave us a list of two other restaurants he works at. We all made a pact to one day meet again at a speakeasy themed bar some blocks away.

After dinner and drinks we went to the concert. It was cozy and the music was spectacular. There were two drummers in this one jazz band and their solos gave me goosebumps. After the concert, Steph points out one of the drummers at the bar behind me. As I turn around I come face to face with Esperanza herself! How did she get behind me so fast? I panicked, and fumbled, all that I could get out of my mouth was a gurgled “what’s up?”

Smooth, Mr. Morrison.

The couple next to us kept their cool and ended up getting a picture with her. Meanwhile, Steph and I were fumbling for a pen and a receipt. By the time we got our act together she had vanished into New York never to be seen again… well, until the 10:30 set. Steph and I decided we couldn’t leave it like that and settled on the idea of going to see her again in the future and having a proper meeting. Ugh, if only I handled it like when I met Chris. It must have been the suit.

Besides the bi-weekly rubbing of elbows with Jazz musicians, I have been going out more too. Ashley introduced me to my first New York night club in the meat packing district via back door leading into the club from some restaurant—the kind that cover the tables with white cloth. I fell in love with one of the table dancers. I divided my attention between her and two women dancing to Katy Perry while on stilts. Really.

Like magic, viola, I have friends. As opposed to last semester when I had four, now I have many, including guys! And they are normal, regular people. Just like the kind I would have found in Tallahassee. One of my New Years resolutions was to gain a healthy social life up here. At least 3 other guys to play FIFA with once a week= success. I was even invited to play basketball! Ha! Me play basketball!

I have come to peace with my three year sentence in Law School. Now that the first semester is over the school has lost its only advantage it had over me, uncertainty. I had no idea what I was doing last semester and the only time it all became clear was after the exam. Now I didn’t come here intending to be Mr. 4 point 0—been there, done that. I just want a job, I want to pay off these loans, and I want to continue on with my life. So the thought of not getting all A’s or being in the top 25% of my class doesn’t bother me. Given that I had no idea how to do well here, If I can make it out of last semester dead average, here, I would consider it an achievement. I have gotten one grade back so far and it is looking as if that may become a reality. If I can get the same or higher marks in my two other classes I will be in a very handsome position for the rest of my time here.

That being said, I can finally get serious this semester. Oh yes, they got my ass last semester. But I know exactly what to do now. And the truth is I didn’t get A’s at FSU because I’m smart—no—I got A’s because I am clever. I am good at planning, I’m good at knowing what to study, I'm good at learning how to learn, and I’m good at pacing myself. I am much more confident this semester in my performance, and I expect a beautiful upward trend in my grades for my first year overall.

It has been finalized and I will be returning to Japan for the summer. When I view my life from the audience's perspective I have to say that I am impressed. Without thinking about how much worrying goes into the process, and when I ignore the fact that I don’t really know what I’m doing 90% of the time—I just jump into opportunities and commitments—without all that goes on behind the scenes, the show looks well put together. I say I am going to go to law school, and I do it. I say I want to be an international lawyer—and I’m off to Japan. When I look from the perspective of others it’s amazing, really. I mean if I weren’t me, but I knew me, I would be so impressed by myself.

Unfortunately I am me. So I am not allowed the pleasure of being enchanted with myself. I know what’s going on in the inside too well and everything tastes of porridge* I am working on becoming a person on the inside that matches the person that everyone sees on the outside. Direction, purpose, integrity, morals, discipline—these are all things that must be enhanced before I start accepting compliments from others. Otherwise they are not complimenting me, just God’s impressive ability to use anyone. Besides myself, there are a few others who know whats going on behind the scenes. The Captains**. Oddly, The Captains are the source of some of the most generous and flattering compliments. Even Marvel***.

*Everything tastes of porridge: An expression used to inject a note of reality into our daydreams. The point is that no matter how grandiose our schemes or how successful our self-delusions, the taste of porridge or the reality of our domestic affairs will always be there to impinge on our fantasies. Porridge, formerly a staple in every household, is a most appropriate symbol of the practical, basic nature of home life.

**The Captains- The Captains are for better or worse my best and most trusted friends. An entry is forthcoming explaining The Captains in detail.

***Marvel will deny ever having said anything that could be construed as a compliment or even constructive criticism.

Author's Note

In regards to the past couple of posts, I haven't been myself recently. I explain below:

Will we ever be perfect? Will we ever be able to go to bed comfortably, the thought that we have taken every precaution to keep from inadvertently harming anyone or anything. Maybe the clue to that question lies within the earth. You know, seeds planted too close together will eventually hurt each other as they compete for water. So as plants grow side by side, sometimes their roots interfere with one another.

That's kind of like with us, right? As we grow, sometimes we hurt others in the process. Some people are okay with that. I'm not. I like the thought of being perfect in others' eyes. So I am always extra careful to make sure that my behavior is of a good nature. But humans aren't perfect and every so often I fail.

When I fail at these things something interesting happens. I see myself with new eyes. Where I once saw one habit or another as normal or natural, I begin to see the flaws in my thinking. I wrote about this in my very first entry. I find bugs. I immediately get upset that I didn't realize that what I was doing was questionable, then I change it.

The truth is my enemy. And the truth is I would never grow unless I screwed up. Without making mistakes I wouldn't be able to identify the problem. Without puking all over my parents foyer I would not know that 8 Smirnoff Ice watermelons are not an appropriate amount for a gentleman. Without waiting until the last minute to start a paper and consequently receiving a poor grade, I would think it's okay to procrastinate. We all have to fail and make mistakes if we want to work the kinks out and become better people.

But it's always a painful and humiliating process. Often times we only prove to onlookers that we don't quite know how to fully work our bodies and minds yet-- we're clumsy and inconsiderate.

What am I talking about? What do I know? You know I was destroyed in the past 4 months. Last post I talked a little about how I used to believe I would grow up to be great. I really did. The past four months, I didn't believe that anymore, in fact, I couldn't figure out why becoming great was so great. No motivation. I was depressed.

But no one likes to be depressed, especially someone who likes to be normal... someone like me. So I told myself there was nothing wrong. Of course there was something fundamentally wrong. I moved to a new city and started a strenuous graduate education. I missed my family, I missed the friends that I literally grew up with, I missed my car, I missed my state, I missed the freakin' I-10 for goodness sake, and I missed what I had for a few months with a girl.

Law school immediately pointed my focus to the future. To me this meant a relentless job and no freedom. I started to feel like my days of relaxing out in a backyard and arguing with Mike were over, replaced with memos and resumes. I was sad. I began to doubt my ability to do well at the school. I began to doubt if I would make any friends at the school on a real level. I have a simple kind of cordial relationship with my roommates, so my apartment doesn't feel too welcoming either. There were too many assignments for phone calls and there was always a crisis. Meanwhile, I can't go to the corner deli to get a sandwich without seeing like 12 dudes proposing and a couple every few feet.

It's true I hadn't prepared myself for the transition. I was intimidated by the school. I was intimidated by my classmates. I was homesick. And I was lonely and confused about what to do. And I would not acknowledge any of it. And I made it through the whole semester without breaking down.

But not the break. I acknowledged everything. I acknowledged that I was scared to death by this school and by my upcoming career. I admitted that I missed my friends and family dearly. I admitted that I was severely confused about my feelings for a girl and what I should I do about it. And I admitted that I was painfully lonely and frustrated with life.

And there was my friends and family ready to listen and give me advice. They are always there for me. They are so patient and kind to me. I sat on the floor in my room and called each one up. They let me vent. And verbalize every ridiculous complaint and worry that I have and then explained to me why this was only a phase and why I would overcome this. They convinced me that it's not over yet, but just getting started.

I have been ridiculous this whole semester. I lost my way big time. I lost hope. I lost faith. and I lost myself. But I'm back now. And I have got a lot of ground to make up. If I ever become great, all of the credit belongs to my friends and family because I would have given up countless times by now but for their encouragement.

So we can go back to our beautiful story now. You know, the one we're I'm awesome, and positive, and full of good ideas and witty one-liners. That one.

Working With a Vision

In my beginning years of college I had strong sense of purpose. I didn't know exactly what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to do something big, great. In fact I would spend my moments before bed thinking of big things that have been done in the world, that way I could just choose something from that list and make it my goal.

I'm not sure what made me think it would be as easy as making up my mind. To be sure my blind confidence was the driving power behind my excellent academic performance and my unyielding belief in going to an Ivy-League law school that had I been more realistic, I would have never pursued and settled for less with the belief that it was impossible to achieve more. The whole thing is the premise behind my Dreamers entry.

By the third year in college I was running out of that faithful, child-like mentality and I began to see boundaries and preset courses in life-- get job, save money, start family, blah blah, retire. With all the problems people around me had just making ends meet, I started to feel foolish in thinking that I was going to be special, that I was going to do anything. I maintained my grades and work ethic by habit, not because I had a vision. I looked to getting into law school as if it were the finish line rather than the start of the next book in my series, so once I would finally move into my grad school dorm I would have no idea where to go from there.

It's true that I lost what made my life meaningful when I was a freshman and sophomore in college. But now I want it back. I want the vision back. I want that cool knowing, that confidence that I will rise above the obstacles, that I will be picked out of the crowds, that I will be acknowledged for having "something special". Having that feeling as one works makes even the most painful exercises seem rewarding and a privilege. As you feel like your hard work will pay off and you won't get screwed over in the end to a chorus of your loved ones chanting "it all happens for a reason"

I know that the reason this past semester seemed so miserable is because I was working with no vision. I assumed that here I would just be a cog in the machine and I was only working for the end result of getting some generic job and paying off my loans. Which the way everyone carries on here, I should be so lucky. That was my biggest mistake as I had no enthusiasm for my studies and I was wasting a crucial opportunity.

Well It's the first day of 2011. Although it is completely irrational, for some reason January 1st always makes one feel empowered to make life changes. I'll bite. Today I'm forming a vision for the rest of my time here at Columbia and beyond that. I'm going regain my attitude that I will be taken care of and will see all my plans through. Most of all I want to fall in love with life the way I used to back then. I want to put in hard work knowing that every bit of it will be acknowledged and serve a purpose. I want to boldly march forward in my everyday with a feeling of confidence and assurance that I will simply be taken care of.

I'm going to return to that way of life and I'm sure I will see my positive expectations come to fruition.