This weekend I absconded to my parent's lake house to spend the weekend. It's not glamorous--it's been rainy all day today and will continue to be so tomorrow. I brought all my homework with me. I'm not doing anything here that I wouldn't do at home. It's good just to get away sometimes...especially because it bums me out lately to be at "home."

It could be the bugs. I've had a terrible time with crickets and roaches lately. The crickets should leave me alone once the weather turns cool. Hopefully the smell will start airing out when they leave too. The roaches, though, just infuriate me. They're just so...BRAZEN. They even lack the shame to run when they're spotted. I tussled with two Friday morning. They didn't take me seriously until I swatted at them. Then, though, my blood was boiling and I wanted nothing more than to reduce those DAMN ARTHROPODS to a squishy blob of twitchy legs and splayed-open, broken wings. Roaches just make me mad. Not all roaches...only the American and Pennsylvania Wood roaches. The German roaches don't make me nearly as angry. Between the roaches and the crickets, I'm afraid to go into my kitchen...and I'm always worried about the status of the pots and pans in the cabinets.

It could be the emptiness. I think my place is too large. The furniture in my living room fails to fill the space. There's an entire bedroom that's completely unoccupied. I really need to get a roommate to help cover living expenses (cable, electricity, etc.), but until then, it's just me. There's so much space it feels indulgent, but not in that you-deserve-a-splurge way, it's more like the you're-being-super-wasteful-and-financially-irresponsible way. Even being at home isn't comforting when it feels empty.

It could be the symbolism. My grandfather is putting up the money to purchase the condo. The idea is that he's making an investment. But, it's all wrapped up in the idea that I will go to school, do well, so that I will have a good job and a productive future. There's a lot of pressure riding on my success--and I'm very confident that I cannot "succeed" in school. I just muddle through and barely keep pace with everyone else. When I walk in, I'm reminded that there are a lot of people watching me...and a lot of people to possibly disappoint/make angry when things (ultimately?) crap out.

So...I'm away for the weekend. I'll have to be back Monday. Back to class. Back to the crickets. Back to the risk of disappointment. Back to refusing to use the air conditioner even though it's still 90 degrees at 10:00 at night because I can't afford it. TBTHBTHBTHBTH! Right now, though, I'm away. But my mind is still concerned about being back.

This is for...well, you know who you are...on the day you pretended not to see me in the parking lot. (BTW, this is REALLY funny if you're a (tax) lawyer or accountant.)

We meet frequently in unexpected places.

Furtive choreographies flash across our faces.

One visage darting, another twisting

Each one knowing that we’d prefer missing

Our lives’ paths’ interlaces

Your cunning gaze moves painlessly through me

Evasion, aversion, desperate synchronicity

One temper ablaze with revulsion

One driven by maladroit compulsion

I’m a mere, pass-through entity.

There’s little question, unlike an LLC.

If there’s an election, I know your choice would be—

Without a breath’s hesitation,

Or clandestine motivation—

To disregard my entity

I am not a C-Corp; there’s no recognition

Of my gainful activity or contrition.

You intimate that I’m a nullity

With well-found credence and gross subtlety.

My existence is a legal fiction.

Alas, I concede the partnership direction.

Another result amounts to self-deception:

To you, I am,and will ever be,

A mere pass-through entity.

It’s a Sub-chapter K affection.

Does anyone ever pretend that you don't exist? Or if they do communicate, it's to insinuate something mildly offensive?

I have a long-held belief that [something] is not good. In fact, I think that [something] is rather bad.

In my view, [something] only cheats OR misleads OR steals from people. Recently, I saw in the news OR I had an experience with OR heard through someone I know about who had a dealing with [something]. I'm outraged. [Something] must be stopped OR boycotted OR hated by everyone else as much as by me.

Now, I know that there are a lot of people in Xanga who are a part of OR enjoy OR like [something], which astounds me. But, I can respect that because I really value how respectful I am of other ideas. This post is a clear demonstration of that respect I have for the opposing position and the legitimacy and reasonability I believe it has. However, this latest stunt is jut too much.

First, it is evident that [something] has no human decision makers. There's no way that a person could reach that decision OR act in the way that [something] did OR purport an idea that so plainly contradicts my interpretation of life experiences.

Second, this is a legitimate criticism. It is axiomatic that everything about life has good and bad qualities. At this point, I have presented a point that actually is stimulating and new to you. This section about [something] is the only one worth remembering...and it's only three sentences.

Third, this stunt violates an important principle. [Something] has trampled this reified concept, which if I really thought through, I would realize I might not believe in as much as I do. At least, I don't believe it in proportion to the vehemence with which I argue that its violation is demonstrative of an appalling wrong. Unlike me [something] and you doesn't follow this principle. [Something] deserves scorn.

In conclusion, I've always felt this way. My feelings are clearly justified. I often post about how terrible [something] is. I did not have to think long about what my ultimate feelings about this issue are. It astounds me that [something] continues to exist. It clearly has NO redeeming qualities. If it did, I would certainly present it alongside my harsh criticisms in order that I present a fair picture of [something]...because I'm the first to recognize that one of my long-held beliefs is also subject to criticism.

So there, [something], gotcha! Now everyone can see you for what you are. Hah!

P.S. I'm not look to stir up Xanga drama...if you make an offensive comment, I will delete it.

After reading a recent post here on Xanga about Sriracha sauce, I made a comment about I like it mixed with mayonnaise on French fries. Since then, I've had a real hankerin'. BUT! I didn't feel like making French fries (with all the oil and the slicing and the peeling--OY!). So...I made a bold move.

I took my own condiment to a fast food restaurant.

I went to Whataburger with a tupperware container full of my own sauce. I'm not so brazen as to walk in with the container exposed to the whole world. I'm much sneakier. I had it tucked neatly inside my backpack (Oh! How I could forever explore the Dora references..) with the study materials I also brought. As soon as they brought out my No. 1 sans fromage, I discreetly unzipped my bag and delicately removed the mayo mix from within. The elderly couple across the room looked bewildered at first...and then incensed...and then angry. The lady almost chocked on her onion ring.

I'm just kidding. No one notices me...I'm like a ninja...or a hobo...Idk which.

Still, I was a little perplexed about the consequences of smuggling condiments into a restaurant. First of all: why take foodstuff to a place where you buy foodstuff? Is it like sneaking food into a movie? Will security take me away?

Anyway, no one scolded me, so I guess it was fine. But, it does open up an entire new world of options: could you pack your own American cheese singles instead of paying 50 cents for the addition at the restaurant? Could you bypass the meal and bring your own bevie and side?

In my view, here's the limit: sneaking the condiment into the restaurant is okay because it increases the owner's goodwill in the establishment with no additional cost--and possibly a savings if I forego the usual "gratuitous" condiment. So, I think that as long as smuggled items are limited to non-menu items, sneaking food into a restaurant is perfectly acceptable.

Where would you draw the line?

Today was the first day I rode my bike from home to school on a day when I have classes--so, there was a risk of arriving late. Fortunately, I made it in time although there was a delay. My commute is a little slower with so many pedestrians just walking all over. Because the law school sits basically isolated from the rest of the university, I forget that the school is there--and its fairly large, with a large number of students.

I got an e-mail that my class in the middle of the day is cancelled, so I took advantage of the extra hour. After my first class, I rode back home (not crowded this time), had lunch and then went to the post office. Yes, all on my bicycle. This bike trip involved a trip through the dilapidated, rundown part of town (I'm trying really hard not to say "ghetto.") Oh yeah...and there was a bridge...a big one...over the highway. To get to the post office, I had to go over the bridge, through the ghetto, and across town.

Put THAT in your backpack, DORA!

At the post office, I sent out my thank-you notes for my birthday...also a belated thank-you note where I had an internship this summer. In my defense, I had prepared a note while I was in Spain (that one even had some chocolates to go with it), but I could never find a post office that was open in that country. Then I rode back to school...on real roads this time. There were cars all around...and they could have killed me if I had fallen off the ol' bicicleta. That was intense...but I eventually made it back to school so I did some more homework.

Anyway, I should have been preparing for my business planning class. I did this instead.

 Wednesday was my birthday. All told, it was pretty good. I got presents, I had cake, I've since spent all my gift cards and birthday money. Whoop-whoop! Now, I get to relive the day I turned twenty-four...and prepare myself for thank-you notes.

Leading up to the event, I was feeling my age. I know twenty-four isn't *that* old, but I felt like I was falling apart. Jogging the previous two days made my legs sore...plus, I'm still uncomfortably overweight from my long Euradventure. There is a very real and almost overwhelming sense that I'm aging...which is lame. So, to distract myself, I made a cake:

I used the wrong dish to bake it, so I made it wider and thinner thinner than I actually wanted. It was still tasty. Plus, it's got the chocolate fun-fetti icing! It was almost fun enough to make me forget that I was spending my birthday alone. #TypicalTrey. Although, all of my siblings, my parents, and my grandmother called/texted, so I didn't observe my birthday in a total social vacuum.

As far as gifts, I got a couple of gift cards and some cash, all of which I really appreciate. I used one gift card to buy some pants. I procured, with my birthday cash, a bicycle that I can ride to school:

So, yeah, I'm a biker now...cruising the streets of Waco on my blue Huffy...because THAT's how b**a** I am. Really, that's it. I'm not any more hardcore than that.

Now, for the thank-you notes. I feel like thank-you notes are appropriate to send someone when that someone 1) sent you a present; 2) attended a party held for in your birthday honor; OR 3) provided some birthday-related service (that might not count as a "present."). I've discovered that if I write them when I'm a *little* drunk, they come out much more sentimental. Who would have thought? It'll be a pleasant way to spend Saturday night at the very least.

Now, though, the festivities must end...and I have to do homework.

I spent the extended weekend at my parents' lake house. They have air conditioning there, which was WAY better than sleeping in the condo the state it was over the weekend. But, that meant an early start to Tuesday so I could drive the 1.5 hours between there and school, which I could handle under normal circumstances. Tuesday morning, though, I woke up without having a proper night's sleep (not unusual, though, for a law student). During my break, I ran to the new place to make sure that the electricity was turned on. It was. Walking back into school, I ran into a tree and cut my head. It started bleeding.

I sat through Negotiable Instruments with a paper towel pressed up against my scalp. In typical Trey fashion, it just made everyone uncomfortable.

By the time class was over Tuesday afternoon, I was EXHAUSTED, not to mentioned injured. Alas, there was much to do, for the electricity was turned on and I had very few items necessary for the maintenance of a household.

After a couple hours and a hundred bucks in WalMart, I made it to get food and start on my homework at school. After being there for a while, I returned home because I realized I left crucial equipment at home. I couldn't study at home, though, because everything was a disaster. I had to start..cleaning...then I continued cleaning. There were so many dead crickets...and they were everywhere. Inside cabinets. Behind appliances. Under the sink. And they stunk. In fact, the cricket-death smell still lingers and flares up every time I run the dishwasher. >: ( I was doing my best to clean the cabinets so I could at least get the food and dishes put away. It was a futile effort, for I had more-pressing matters.

I turned to getting my homework finished. There were significant points up for grabs in Land Practice, and a discussion I wasn't yet prepared for in Business Planning. At that point (11:00 pm) I was sweaty, hot, tired, frustrated, confused, injured, overwhelmed and generally hating life. After drawing out a metes and bounds description, I tried to go to bed about 1 AM. Emphasis on "tried."

My bed wasn't yet put together, and my best efforts didn't change that. Nonetheless, I tried to dress it, during which process I realized that I was missing a pillowcase. The air conditioning wasn't adequately conditioning the air, and it was still 95 degrees outside! Dead crickets lied about the carpet and stayed there because I don't have a vacuum cleaner. I couldn't take a shower because for fear of washing away the lumpy scab on my head. I almost had a break down.

...*deep breath*...

But, Tuesday is now two days behind and slowly receding into the past. My lumpy scalp is slowly dissipating. I'm able to wash my hair now without feeling that I'm going to open a wound. My bed still isn't quite together, but I have a good lead on where the pillow case might be. This weekend, I think I'll be able to move in more of my stuff and finally get a vacuum to get rid of those nasty little arthropods littered throughout my home. While prospects look brighter, Tuesday still sucked.

Alternative title: Introduction to Hashtags.

After today, I've been to all of my new classes at least once. I'm thrilled about my Wednesday afternoon class--International Business Transactions. It's the perfect complement to what I studied while I was in Spain and better orients me toward the international track that I (think I) want to follow to a career. #traveldropping The other ones seem enjoyable. Land Practice and Business Planning seem really interesting because they're not like any other class I've ever taken. They both have a strong practical emphasis, especially Business Planning. #hiremeplease In that class, the professor pretended to be a client and made us solicit additional information we might need in order to best structure her business goals. It was really instructive.

Tomorrow, I have yesterday's rotation again. The schedule generally works for me. I'm still not sure how to negotiate the lunch situation: it's too early to eat in the break, but if I don't then I start falling asleep in my later classes. I guess I'll figure it out. Maybe I can pack a cereal bar with me...or an apple... #whitepeopleproblems.

Now...if I can just get my housing situation worked out...It'd be cool not to be homeless and update my local address in the school directory. #dreambig

I'm sporting several chigger bites on my arms, hands, and ankles, but especially around my elbows. Chiggers are the larval stage of a variety of mite. They feed on the skin of larger animals. These immature buggies bore a whole in skin and then pump in digestive enzymes, which begin to break down the skin tissue so the little arachnid can start feeding. They leave intensely itchy marks behind. They make my life very itchy, which is a super bummer. I'm not a fan. Apart from using calamine lotion, there's not much I can do relieve the irritation. (Note: I researched it, and contrary to all the advice I've heard during my life, chiggers don't itch because they're still living in your skin; rather, your skin has a reaction to the feeding structure left behind--nail polish isn't going to help this time.)

How did I acquire such little irritations? It's along, complicated story that ends up with me spending the night in a cemetery. Actually, the story isn't that complicated...or long. It's convoluted and recursive in that way that only the individual, mental wars are; it's not well suited for the traditional, linear narrative. But I'll try...

While I was away from home, I thought of myself as away from my real life...that's kind of what trips are for, right? But rather than embracing the normal voyage-to-discovery motif, I treated it just as a diversion or an escape. I tried to put coming home as far from my mind as possible...and then I had to. While I was gone, I intentionally put off trying to think about what would happen when I came home. I was still unsure whether I wanted to do law school. I'm still not. I really felt like I needed more time. Really. Because I was unsure, I didn't look at housing or decide where I wanted to live. I didn't really start looking until I got back on the 22d. Classes started on the 27th.

Thursday, my parents exerted some pressure for me to make up my mind. I didn't think I could. When my Dad got home about 3:30, they gave me an ultimatum: I needed to make up a decision by 4:00. I couldn't do it. They made me take a walk...and I wasn't sure I'd come back. I threw my phone in the front yard on the way down the street. I didn't return until the next day. I was afraid to go back before I made up my mind; and then it got dark. I laid my largish frame on the smallish benches in that cemetery to sleep. I clapped occasionally to keep the precocious possum and the slinky skunks away. (Skunks are terrifying, BTW.)

It was probably a little immature. But, it was a better option that my first thought, which involved setting myself on fire, a la Lucille Bluth. That way, I thought, I'd least have time to think through things while in an institution. (Plus, how cool would it be to be around crazy people all day--as long as they weren't dangerous.) Oy vey.

Sometimes I feel like a human larva. It's bad because I'm almost twenty-four. I'm supposed to be an "adult." It seems to me that being an "adult," means not caring about problems you can't fix. That's poopy. And I don't like it. It seems intellectually and emotionally lazy or irresponsible or something...It's like admitting that you have no clarity of vision and that you're stumbling around without regard for the direction.

No thanks. That's not for me. So, I may refuse to grow up. TAKE THAT WORLD! I'll be a perpetual chigger...and probably just irritating everyone around me. : (

There are a lot of things I should blog about (high drama at home because I hate decisions, what I'm going to do for the rest of my life, whether I am actually a human, etc.). Instead, I'm going to blog about the concert I attended last night because it was AWESOME! So, rather than actually putting my blog in tune with my life, I'm going to focus on the distraction...probably to the detriment of my personal development. Meh. C'est la vie.

Last night I saw Enrique and JLo in concert. There's another group, Wisin & Yandel, who were supposed to be part of the tour. I was as excited to see them in concert as I was to see Enrique. However, because I was in Europe for two months, I didn't catch the news that they had dropped out. So, I was bummed about that...especially when Enrique and JLo sang their collaboration songs without them. : ( Fue demasiado triste.

But, here's what did happen:

Enrique: Texas! Are you ready!

Crowd & Me: YEAH!!! Whoo!

Enrique: Where my Spanish-speakers at?

Crowd & Me: YEAH!!! Whoo!

Enrique: Where are the Latinos?

Crowd: Whooo!

Trey: ...dammit...

So, Enrique, I was little upset about that. Just because I'm not Latino doesn't mean I can't speak Spanish. That's borderline racist. But, the show was still incredible. Enrique does a really good job of walking the line between carefree (almost dangerous) irresponsibility and genuine consideration for others in a way that only Mediterranean play boys (or play men--talking to you Berlusconi!) can. The set list was somewhat expected. But, no doubt, Enrique is a great performer. He did a really good job of incorporating audience participation, especially during "Hero," during which he pulled a girl up from the audience and basically made out with her on stage. It was kind of sweet when you think about it. It will probably be the highlight of that girl's life...even if she has children. It was just one instance where I really got the sense that Enrique cared deeply about the fans having a good time. In this point, I think Enrique did a far superior job than JLo.

For me, the highlights of the Enrique performance were: "I Like How it Feels" and "Baby, I Like It." Although, of his recent work, "No Me Digas Que No" is probs my favorite (his W&Y collabo.), which was also nice but unremarkable. As I've said before, everything's well that ends with confetti canons...and this did. : ) All in all, I felt like I had gotten my money's worth after Enrique had finished performing.

After an intermission of sorts during which time the stage transformed, JLo sang. They style was very different. It was much more a spectacular than a "concert" per se. In contrast to an often-wandering and aimless Enrique, JLo's performance was very choreographed. Her show told more of a story a la Las Vegas. She integrated a lot of pyrotechnics and video to supplement her life performance. It was a more-cohesive production than what Enrique did. I think she lip-synched the majority of her songs, but I didn't mine. JLo's more famous for her booty than her voice anyway...and there was sufficient booty action. : )

Booty aside, the highlights for me were the nice moment of tribute that she paid to Selena (who is still a very big deal for me. Even fifteen years after her death, no singer has as successfully captured the "Tejano" or "Chicano" spirit like she Selena.), "Let's Get Loud," "Dance Again," and "Move Your Body." Plus, the fireworks were awesome! In several places, the sharp "pops" of the pyrotechnics were timed perfectly with the beat of the music.

Perhaps the thing that bothered me the most was that JLo's new boy toy was all up in that show. I guess I should be happy for any two people who are in a happy relationship. But, JLo, come on...you gave up on Marc Anthony for that guy? Craziness. (Side note: Marc Anthony is on a tour with some other singers that will be playing at the same venue next week, so his picture was all over. AWKWARD!)

In summary, I think JLo wins for production value but that Enrique wins for an in-concert performance. Her show was more thoughtful, his was more engaging. Importantly, I left the American Airlines Center liking both of these incredible artists more than when I entered. Overall, my Saturday night was a success.

However, I must point out: in concert, Shakira consistently nails both of these artists' best production features. While I enjoyed this concert last night, it didn't leave me with the lighter-than-air feeling I have when I see Shakira.