Nealmeister

Nope, Neal didn't fall off the face of earth

I've been thinking long and hard for a while whether I really want to blog any more. Blogging was great as a student; the medium naturally dovetailed from my daily journaling habit--a habit that I started in the 5th grade. That was 1991. This is 2009, when, more than ever, the personal lives are becoming ever more public. Social norms are changing -- at least somewhat -- and the minds of that Zuckerman kid and the rest of the crew at Facebook are foaming at the mouth, waiting for the day that we all jump the private-public divide and provide people with all of the intimate consumer data that they've so desperately wanted. When that day comes, I hope I can take part in the Facebook IPO. And when that day comes, I'll be just a little sad, because it means that shows like "The Real World" and the idea of living a private life might be bookmarks in history.

I digress. Really, since the last time I've posted, I've moved to Chicago, feeling out the new bearings, training for (and successfully running) races, playing host and feeling great being hosted. I now have a beard -- that won't be lasting for much longer -- but I think the point that I'm trying to make is that I've outgrown blogging just like I felt as though I needed to grow out of Boston.

Alas, good things are too hard to give up. So I'm going to give this whole thing another try. Rework the medium. So stay tuned.

In the meantime, here's something that will do the trick: every single status update from yours truly on Facebook between the end of August (when I left Boston) and yesterday (when Jess and I finished up our nice little urban adventure in Chicago). My life is not any more interesting as yours. The thing is, I guess I'm willing to put it out there for you to judge.

On Facebook, Neal Boyle...

1. walked 9.17 miles through Chicago with Jess Stankus today. Urban adventures=major success. (11 hours ago)
2. and Jess decided to go down and visit The Bean in Millennium Park at about Sunset. Then, we decided to walk to the Magnificent Mile, which lead to a walk to Rachie's Starbucks, and which finally resulted in a walk all the way back to Andersonville. 9.17 miles. 1320.5 calories burned. I'm impressed with ourselves. (Yesterday at 21:20)
3. will be putting some Charlie's Ale House into his belly. The sun is shining in Chicago. The Bears are owning the Browns. ND is climbing in the rankings. The occupants of 1350 West Winnemac are relishing in another amazing Halloween. So much to be happy about; so little space to express the glee.(Yesterday at 14:20)
4. Halloween has turned into something made for TV... seriously... (Sat at 22:35)
5. Go Irish! Beat Cougars! (Sat at 08:47)
6. Hands-down quote of the night @Bessye: "It's not about getting it right; it's about getting it easy." (Fri at 21:02)
7. feels and looks like he belongs on That 70s Show... and it's only B-list Halloween costume night!
8. (Fri at 18:06)
9. Evacuate the free weights floor, people! There is a Neal Boyle twin on the floor, and the real one will be damned to let the impersonator out-do him in the medicine ball push up contest... (Fri at 15:37)
10. has a yummy-smelling pumpkin... (Fri at 12:09)
11.  doing up more touristy Chicago stuff in the Loop with the East Coast girls. Sears Tower Skywalk it is!
12. (29 October at 13:22 )
13. called 312-867-5309 (29 October at 01:10)
14. This Boyle is (too shy to be) made for live Karaoke @ Cubby Bear... (28 October at 23:49)
15. @ Goose Island BrewCo w/the Boston (and VA) girls, doing up TGIW in Wrigleyville. Go Phillies!!! (28 October at 19:33)
16. Korean BBQ followed by Chicago Brauhause in Lincoln Sq = getting set up for a wicked amazing night on the far north side! (27 October at 19:28)
17. is happy that the 6-year old inside of him continues to live the dream and never grows tired of the way 2700 series Budd subway cars race along elevated tracks in the north side of Chicago...(27 October at 17:31)
18. clerked for a Bankruptcy Court judge. Is "Introduction to Federal Court" really necessary? Can someone please slam me with a Federal Rule Book? Ok, not really... but the hyperbolic Facebook nonsense is irresistible, especially during Illinois MCLEs! (27 October at 08:04)
19. earnestly awaits the arrival of Kristyn+Denise in the Windy City, but first, not without 10 more hours of Illinois CLE amazingness. If only Mitch from Old School would show up, too. Life would be nearly complete. (27 October at 00:15)
20. Oh, CTA, how you can't be trusted during rush hour. Thank God Neal got on the Red Line before it decided to run express to Lake... (26 October at 06:50)
21. wonders when the Red Line will ever roll on in to Argyle station... (26 October at 06:33)
22. thinks seasonal influenza is--like a couple of logs in the fire or a fresh Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chip cookie--a special gift from God that Neal just needs to snuggle up with and enjoy. (25 October at 23:27)
23. along the brittle treacherous bright streets / of memory comes my heart singing like / an idiot whispering like drunken man / who(at a certain corner suddenly)meets / the tall policeman of my mind. (25 October at 09:56)
24. watching the Undertones at the Notre Dame Bookstore with Kev+Jess. Booyah! (24 October at 19:43)
25. Go IRISH! Beat Eagles! (24 October at 11:52)
26. Are you questioning my badassedness? I mean have you seen my guns??? (22 October at 23:18)
27. Thoughts+Prayers are with the Hoells and the Santosuossos right now... (22 October at 10:18)
28. has got two extra BC/ND tickets, courtesy of Jess. Anyone want to make a trip from Boston and/or any Domers in need? (21 October at 20:18)
29. can rock the beard in a pinstripe suit, a form fitting shirt and a Brooks Brother tie. Bad, Neal, very very very bad (albeit, delicious, haha)! (21 October at 13:34)
30. Are you a coffee, or are you a slice of pumpkin pie? You're too delicious to be just a latte. You're pie. I love you. (20 October at 17:41)
31. is looking for another race to train for. All you runners and triathloners were right: the adrenaline rush is... addictive. (19 October at 20:19)
32. might have run the Urbanathlon, but man, oh man, that massage followed by some old school pampering needs to be scheduled ASAP. Neal=can't walk="hilarious". (19 October at 00:41)
33. Notre Dame, what a shame. Whatever, I still am crazy in love with the alma mater... (17 October at 19:34)
34. Men's Health Urbanathlon 2009. What? WHAT! Thanks to all you folks who kept me running, to all the causes that kept me inspired, and all the other runners who kept things honest. Now, it's time to celebrate Domer style. GO IRISH! BEAT TROJANS! (17 October at 12:19)
35. Here it comes. 12-mile course. 1-mile Soldier Field stadium stairclimb. 5 challenging urban bootcamp obstacles. There's only one Neal. There's only one Men's Health Urbanathlon. And holy cow, racer #2081 is going to tear her up tomorrow morning! (16 October at 16:31)
36. Based on Facebook, I gather that (a) it's blizzarding in Boston, (b) everyone's traveling to South Bend (Go Irish; Beat Trojans!) and (c) Falcon is awesome because he hid in the box and not the balloon. Me? I'm Facebooking. (16 October at 07:22)
37. and Rach finally broke down and turned on the heat. It is a little chilly in Chicago, after all... (15 October at 18:01)
38. What? Bob Saget is the voice of "How I Met Your Mother?" But I've been watching HIMYM for how many years now? Doh! Neal, oh Neal... (14 October at 23:30)  
39. ...planning on a walk through Andersonville, right after CPK and Glee. Pre-MH Race, no-caffeine, no-beer Nealski = no funski. (14 October at 20:59)
40. Woot and Woot! The Townies are headed to the Windy City come December! Go Celtics! (14 October at 12:31
41.  Illinois plates on the Corolla. Goodbye Bay State; Hello Land of Lincoln. Next up: Illinois Supreme Court swearing-in... followed by plotting a strategy to acquire a Jeep Wrangler. (13 October at 16:24)
42. Tuesday, Tuesday, so good to me... (13 October at 08:38)
43. got to Chicago just in time for the 'L' fare hikes, which seem to be whole heck of a lot less merciful than those going on at the 'T'. (12 October at 11:32)
44. ...capping off a wicked awesome, random Columbus Day weekend marked by, among other things, a Bartling visit, a visit to Das Boot, and that little 26.2 mile race with some Phillies baseball (not really sure where or when I became a Phillies fan, but it seems to work), a little more meatloaf, and whole heck of a lot of grape soda... (11 October at 23:15)
45. cheering Jim+Colleen Bartling and the St Greg's HS kids on at Mile 8 of the Chicago Marathon! [p.s.--it's 29 degrees here!!] (11 October at 07:00)
46. So, The Cranberries are playing in Chicago @ The Riviera Theatre on November 25th. Anyone want to go with Nealski? You know you want to sing along to Linger followed by Zombie... (08 October at 20:59)
47. ...with so much going down, he often wonders what really is up... (08 October at 01:12)
48. forecasting snow in Chicago on Sunday. But wait, the foliage is still (basically) green! This is penitence for Neal's shortcomings... (07 October at 21:42)
49. Alas, networking and catch-up coffees. I've got Mr Holte and Ms Martinez to thank for the plenteous rain! (07 October at 14:46)
50. is witnessing music being made @Tonic Room, 2447 N Halsted. Chicago's music scene beats Boston. Sorry, kids, the Bean just don't compare... (06 October at 22:52)
51. Life as a Corporate Attorney on sabbatical is wicked stressful, thusly, I'm off to the gym (and later, to Tonic Room on Halsted, if anyone's interested or inclined). (06 October at 16:31)
52. can't decide whether he wants to keep the faux beard or lose the faux beard. These are times when polling the Clery's TGIW crew would be necessary and appropriate. (06 October at 06:43)
53. Lie to Me, baby (and Brett Favre, grrr, you're making Lauren Lynch go madddd)! (05 October at 22:27)
54. The Bears, followed by Lake Shore run, St. A's, and then legs day @ Cheetah Gym. Perfect autumn afternoon in Chicago... (04 October at 14:09)
55. Holy crap... squeaked that one by! Go Irish! (03 October at 18:46)
56. On the Indiana Toll Road en route to the 'Bend. Go Irish! Beat Huskies! (03 October at 10:00)
57. Great job, Rio! "Now the village elders can come home [to Chicago] and take care of the kids being killed on [Chicago's] streets and focus on getting [Chicago's] schools in order..." (02 October at 12:00) ·
58. Go Cubs Go! (Hopefully no rain delay) (01 October at 18:27)
59. When in Chicago, do as Chicagoans do!?!?! (01 October at 18:16)
60. It's official— I passed the Illinois Bar. Thankfully, because of the love + support of all you friends, family, fans, and even enemies. Y'all put up with a lot this summer, including that horrible prayer for perpetual summer rain . But, alas, ring in Fergie + the Black Eyed Peas... and Go, Cubs, Go (with John, Hillary + Alan)!!! (01 October at 11:42)
61. just wants to vomit. It feels less like Christmas morning and more like the moments before the elementary school spelling bee. C'mon Illinois bar examiners; post July's results already! (01 October at 08:21)
62. scored Cubbies tickets with John, Alan and Hillary Thursday night. Pittsburgh Pirates are going down. Go, Cubs, Go! (30 September at 15:11)
63. might not be as cool as Brody Jenner, but Chicagoland bromance applications are currently being accepted. Apply herein. (29 September at 12:52)
64. Second City... let that wind blow. (28 September at 20:40)
65. apparently swapped hurricanes for tornadoes. When in the midwest, do what the midwesterners do, one must suppose. Good times. Now how about those fried cheese kurds at Culvers? That sounds like a better midwestern treat (and a half)...(28 September at 00:15)
66. Old St. Pat's or St. A's? This church shopping thing is getting complicated... (27 September at 12:29)
67. Jesus Christ, God Loves Us! GO IRISH! BEAT BOILMAKERS! This is what college football is ALL ABOUT!!!! (26 September at 22:28)
68. Another Urbanathlon training run. Mostly flat, but with some rolling hills and also with good variety of surfaces: asphalt, concrete, gravel, sand and grass.(26 September at 11:16) ·
69. Go Irish! Beat Boilmakers! Go Hokies! Beat Hurricanes! Go Bulls! Beat 'noles! (26 September at 07:58)
70. "my crocs make that manageable." (25 September at 20:46)
71. + Rachel present Friday Night Game Nite. 1350 W Winnemac #3W, Andersonville. Be there or square. You know you want in... so bring it already! [ps--GO HOKIES!] (25 September at 17:35)
72. Met my match at Cheetah Gym whilst dirty-doubling: the dude (yes, dude) who planned on using the 125 lb. dumbbells and kindly asked if he could use my bench. First off: yes, sir, you may. Second off: Steroids much?!? Third off: You can kill me with one swipe of your paw. That would hurt. I take the steroids comment back... (25 September at 14:52)
73. Just found out that Tedy Bruschi is half-Filipino. Guess what? So is Neal! The day is officially complete... (24 September at 22:10)
74. will be saying 'Aloha' to Hamburger Mary's with the Castrop sistahs and Ms. Lauck. If you want in too, hit the digits... (24 September at 18:06)
75. can no longer listen to The Beatles. They used to remind Neal of Sunday Brunch with the Boyles... or even "Across the Universe." Those are good, nostalgic, feel-good associations. Now, The Beatles are just associated with being stuck in the makeshift office (read: Andersonville Starbucks) and the baristas that keep on glaring in his direction (read: sexual harrassment). Yarghhhhh! (24 September at 15:25)
76. is marketing his goods+services to all of Chicagoland. (23 September at 09:01)
77. thinks that 80s music after a night of Taco Tuesdays is the perfect way to end the 21st day in Chicago.... (22 September at 23:58)
78. is listening to Joni Mitchell, drafting cover letters, scheduling coffees, and plotting on how this Illinois Sub-Teacher's and Prelim Teaching Certificate should get used... Oh, and figuring which passport beer should get consumed tonite @ Crew (disappointed that he can't have another Rogue Dead Guy). (22 September at 14:17)
79. misses having in-unit laundry. But at least he's just figured out his next photography project! (22 September at 12:28)
80. Hospital Scrubs, Orange Crush, Chocolate Ice Cream, Elios Pizza + watching "Role Models." Neal may just have morphed into a chicita... (21 September at 23:20)
81. Didn't think anyone could beat Meg Hughes' "Tour de France" spin class, but alas, in Chicago reigns a spin instructor who has fine-tuned that form of torture... (21 September at 19:47)
82. Funny how whether you're in Boston or Chicago, the Red Line always has got its (endearing AND annoying) quirks. Woot public transit! (21 September at 08:56)
83. Bear Down, Chicago Bears! Craziness... (20 September at 18:18)
84. Beautiful fall day in Chicago=perfect sweatshirt weather, perfect Parish "shopping" weather, and perfect flag football weather... (20 September at 09:58)
85. Thank you, Lord. Irish fans will gladly take that (lucky+undeserved) ND win over MSU. Makes for an easier ride back to Chicago, too... (19 September at 20:27)
86. Got an extra ND/MSU ticket. Anyone want it? Let Neal know. Go Irish! Beat Spartans! (19 September at 10:48)
87. Oh, Notre Dame. What beautiful things my eyes see before me. Go Irish! Beat Spartans! (19 September at 10:24)
88. Go Irish! Beat Spartans! (19 September at 07:34)
89. is a tad homesick+missing boston, at least... (19 September at 02:38)
90. Chicago-style dinner party=success. Thank God (and Jewel-Osco)! (19 September at 00:28)
91. and Rach are hauling @$$ trying to get this dinner together. Woot woot! Go Game Night in Chicago!!! (18 September at 19:36)
92. After seeing "Across the Universe," rereading "The Year the Title Forgot to Come," and partaking in bike adventures w/the Citymate, I think MaryBeth Burke was right: being the candle in "Beauty the Beast, the Musical" is a noteworthy goal (even more so than being staff@ Crew). (18 September at 01:51)
93. Lake Shore-A'ville-Lincoln Sq run: 8.25 miles. Clark/Foster to Montrose Hrbr to Hollywood Beach to Winnemac Pk. 30 days to the Mens Health Race. Run, Neal, Run! (17 September at 19:14)
94. That's right, there're big waves, seagulls+plenty of sand at Lake Michigan. Oh, and a beach at the end of my street. Chicago=wicked amazing. Neal approves... (16 September at 14:42)
95. The Jehovah Witnesses found me at Starbucks. They are aggressive. I think they were sent. Someone confirm or deny these suspicions! (15 September at 09:56)
96. Good Morning, Chicago. The sun has yet to rise, but somehow, somewhy, Neal is already rarin' to go. Not sure what's going on here, but let it roll... (15 September at 05:17)
97. "You're too stupid to have a good time." Thank you, Patrick Swayze. RIP. (14 September at 23:19)
98. Tom Brady is back tonite! Anyone else up for Monday Night Football @T's Bar & Grill in Andersonville? Hit the digits... (14 September at 13:41)
99. Spending the morning working out of the Starbucks in Andersonville. How yuppie cliche of Neal... (14 September at 08:56)
100. Lauren Lynch wins, and she has Jay Cutler to thank for that. Grrrrrrr... (13 September at 22:50)
101. Inaugural Lake Shore Run. Clark/Foster to Belmont Harbor and back. Let's see how Chicago's trails treat old Neal's feet... (13 September at 17:58)
102. Got it, folks. Bear Down. Off to O'Hare with Lady Martinez... (13 September at 15:21)
103. Since I've moved Chicago, no drop of rain has fallen sky. Keep the blue skies shining down on me (oh, and Bear Down, Chicago Bears!)... (13 September at 14:43)
104. En route to U2... at Soldier's Field! (12 September at 19:43)
105. = p.o.'d Irish fan. Armando Allen was in bounds. Big Ten refs, Neal's got a bone to pick with you. (12 September at 18:19)
106. Go Irish! Muck Fichigan! (12 September at 00:14)
107. Calling Allen out of bounds was the worst official review I've ever seen. (12 September at 15:22)
108. The quest for a desk continues... and all these furniture stores in Andersonville do the trick (at least for ideas)! (10 September at 18:03)
109. Whether in Boston or Chicago, still finding myself listening to KISS-FM. Breaks up assembling all this stuff from Ikea... Oh, Neal! (10 September at 12:47)
110. The Chronicles of Narnia wardrobe is taking forever to reassemble.. Lucy better pop on out when I'm done with some Turkish Delight! (10 September at 14:08)
111. T's Bar+Restaurant in Andersonville w/the Castrop Sistahs! (09 September at 21:53)
112. can't get Green Day's "21 Guns" out of his head. Thank you, Mix 101.9... (07 September at 23:34)
113. Wine cups? Yes, Chicago! (06 September at 22:49)
114. after dropping Will+Chris off at O'Hare, this kid is kicking off his freshman year in the Windy City by unpacking (because boxes don't unpack themselves...) (06 September at 10:09)
115. Went up for push ups for 21 (again), courtesy Lynch. Irish 21, Wolfpack, 0. (05 September at 16:00)
116. Went up for push ups for 7, courtesy Lynch. Irish 7, Wolfpack, 0. (05 September at 15:22)
117. Go Irish! Beat Wolf Pack! (Obviously, in South Bend for the day...) (05 September at 10:29)
118. Crew in Uptown... with the Comiskey Field hopefuls... (04 September at 13:48)
119. ...hoping someone wants to help a Nealski and has got an extra ND-Nevada ticket... (04 September at 11:53)
120. is scouring for tickets for the White Sox/Red Sox game. And 1500 others things to be done in Chicago right now. (04 September at 08:53)
121. "#220, you have no game. But there's something cute and adorable about you. Make a move. --#113." Alas, life at Durkin's. Definitely an "I" + not an "E"... (04 September at 01:09)
122. Hopleaf with Chris+Will. Amen for Andersonville (which=new home) (03 September at 23:09)
123. made it to Chicago. Let the fun begin! (02 September at 23:52)
124. En route to Chicago, via I-90, with Chris+Will. ETA, 8:45pm CDT. So long, Boston. Neal will always love that dirty water. (02 September at 03:42)
125. Boston will always be home, but heading west, oh boy, this has never felt so good and so right. Chicago or bust, baby! (01 September at 06:14)
126. Oh, move to Chicago, Neal hopes his arrival to your grand city is nothing like his departure from Boston, which has been nothing short of wicked wicked WICKED aggravating. (31 August at 17:22)

In re: Valentines

The Rant:

>   As part of my anti-Valentine's day gig, I want to
>   remind you all that today is Frederick Douglass'
>   birthday.  Yes, the same Frederick Douglass that
>   appeared in your sixth grade English class in a
>   Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An
>   American Slave.  So, while ya'll are whimsically
>   enjoying candies and dinner and kisses and the like,
>   consider a moment of silence to reflect upon the
>   birth of one of the most influential figures in US
>   History.

Then...

Just before I head out on the anti-Valentine's Day pub tour, I visit my mom and dad.  My mom calls me shy.  My dad says I'm oblivious (and recounts how some non-cougar eyes were following me at church).  I say that I don't care.  I'm "single by choice," or so goes my cop-out, and besides "if I get married now, I'm just going to get screwed... royally" screams that jaded side of me, that won't give love a chance.

So, I remembered.  I can give, today.  And this I give to you: Obama for Valentine's Day...  sexy obama loves you too. [ via Hill and Bluntest ]

I guess I'm not so good at this "bitter-anti-lover" thing either. I'll enjoy my yam fries and cherry wheat sam now.

Cash-Only Dinner Dates

When I got word of my Giacomo's dinner date with the Boston consulting crew, I got all excited. "Giacomo's!" I thought.  Thoughts of the North End and cash only and wait staff edging on the side of abrasive flooded my head, and would be the only way to have it.  I also though, "Gosh, thank GOD!" because the last time I really went out to eat with out of town friends in Boston, I went to my age-old throwback: Pizzeria Regina in the North End (with Heather, but of course, it was totally appropriate!).

Well, it turns out that my dinner date with Kevin and Stan was in the South End instead. But, I wasn't going to hate.  I needed to appreciate.  And I totally did.  Butternut Squash... wicked awesome.  Stan... wicked awesome.  Wait staff... totally expecting us to order dessert, and totally waiting to rush us out the door.  And the company, which I guess includes Stan and definitely includes Kevin, made me snort once -- about scantily clad 22-year old girls hitting up podunk bars in klan country, in the middle of winter, while at work orientation, thinking they're hitting up the club.

Bottom line: dinner was great.  We made it in and out before the 8pm rush (and, as Kevin put it, before "them g@ys all poured up with cologne took over the place." ha!).  And for once, in a really long time, it was really great to grab dinner when the rest of the city is grabbing dinner.  When dinner wasn't dine it.  When dinner wasn't crashing my mom and dad's place.  Or involved beleaguering my poor roomie with my bitch tales of lawyering and how I'm not cut out to do it until she is convinced to think twice about law school.

The only thing we should have done: closed out the place with a couple bottles of wine.

So I guess Giacomo's in the South End isn't so bad.  It'll do.

Vive le Flash's

I love this place, even though, in the scheme of things Boston, Flash's is relatively new.  Says some random dude on the internet: "This staff will show you a great time! The food is simple but hits the spot. Lots of cool, pretty people hang out here. Great for going out alone, or with big groups. Funky drink lists will send you in the right direction."  The dude's totally right... and, like any great neighborhood bar in Nealski's playbook, nostalgia and memories of all types abound with this place.  Janine and I used to grab lunch here all the time when she worked at H&K.  I used to love getting their pizza hamburger whenever it was on special, or hang out here during long breaks in between law school classes and enjoy a nice Harpoon UFO, especially in the springtime when they open the windows to Columbus Ave.  Delish!

Of course, with Kevin's arrival in Beantown, it meant me, roomie and fluffy had to go... on a Wednesday night!  It really only began a whole night of debauchery.  Here's to no longer being lame (for the time being!)

This is Why I'm Hot

No, I'm not the rapper Mims.  But it seems like the second Kevin got to Boston, things started to get all hot up up around here in New England.  Now, I'm used to a nice little thaw at the end of January (or was reminded of it by Kevin Lemanowicz, Chief Meteorologist at Fox 25 News), but this is kind of crazy.  When I was hanging out with Kevin in the South End, I was out and about in a sweatshirt and jeans.  It's January people.  It's supposed to be wicked wicked cold in Boston right about now!  I should not be wearing crocks without socks!

Then, there's the New Hampshire primaries.  My near and dear friend Crystal is working the Obama campaign up in New Hampshahhh, and my near and dear friend Shane is working the Romney campaign, so I feel like, between Facebook and random text messages and spur of the moment blog updates, I'm right up there in the middle of the action.  The whole presidential campaign thing continues to get me all excited this year.  Perhaps the reason happens to be that both parties -- Democrats and Republicans -- don't have a clear front runner yet.  Perhaps the reason happens to be that each of the candidates, regardless of the party affiliation, happens to have a some sort of depth, a whole lot of quirks, and a bit of admirable conviction.  Perhaps the reason happens to be that I'm stuck somewhere in between Obama and Mitt (but people know where I'll be voting), somewhere between hopeful and jaded, somewhere between being really young and naive and getting old and stuck and stubborn in my ways.  Whatever the reason, things continue to stir up in New Hampshire.  Politics are getting fun again.  And the commercials -- yes, because Boston is right on the cusp on New Hampshire, we get all of the crazy pitches from each of the candidates, trying to woo voters between segments of a really lopsided LSU/Ohio State game (go Buckeyes!), the rebirth of American Gladiators (Go Helga!), and yet another rerun of How I Met Your Mother (Go... Go) [/ALT LINK/CBS Corporation site].

Anyway, I'm not quite sure where this post is going, except that it's January 2008 and I didn't even get a chance to wear my reindeer winter hat to work today.  The snowmen are melting.  And I'm feeling all hot and bothered about everything going on...

 

"Nevar" Hate in 2K8!

• The first thing I want to say about 2008 on my blog: I love Chicago.
• An affirmative action I want to contemplate beginning in 2008: Rule 705 Motions or ... .
• Some things continue to sit well in 2008: for sure, Harry Potter movies.
• Nicknames that shouldn't (and can't) stick in 2008 in 2008: Carlton; Carlton; Carlton.
• Overrated for 2008: Showering, productivity, lack of McDonalds.
• First wrong reference/realisation of 2008: "it's what i eat and what i do".
• Magic number of 2008: 2050.
• Looking forward to in 2008: Becker's Litany of Saints @ Easter Vigil; 7/26; joy; 27.

The nickname won't stick (hopefully)

First off, let me share with the world the text message I sent to a few people this morning (late this morning) as I tried as hard as I could to not move my body (for fear that things would get 'agitated' and 'you know' would 'happen'):

Ugghh gawd.  Thing #5860 I did not miss about alcohol: massive hangovers the day after where the recurring though is "oh, dear sweet lord jesus, what did I do? I am so sorry but please PLEASE I do not deserve death."

Sound desperate?  That's because I was (and really--still am).  In fact, I am being a total schmuck; while my friends are scrubbing the tarp for the "Cups Nook," I'm blogging on Typepad mobile.  I am awesome... and being horribly selfish.  At least the music in the background is good (think: Vince Guaraldi Trio's "A Charlie Brown Christmas" Soundtrack). 

Back to the main details of last night.  First off: Hill and I went to this amazing mexican place on Halsted in 60614 -- about a block away from the Citimates' place -- called Mayan Palace.  Maybe it was good because Hill and I got to catch up on gossip, because our waiter (Alejandro) offered us a celebratory New Years' flan, or because the frozen strawberry margaritas (first alcohol in 65 days!) were unbelievable.  Whatever the reason, I now love Mayan Palace and can't wait to go back....

After a little trip to Walgreens for some Pepcid and some cash, we stopped by Kev's place and then to a bar in the 'hood.  I'll cut to the chase: after tons of ice cold Heineken and blowing about $160 on rounds of Jäger Bombs (say my receipts--and this is a good place to reference--they've only caused trouble before--and by now, I've submitted poor Rach to becoming the newest "you're doing shawwwwwwts with me" victim), I commit the most atrocious of hambone-esque 02129 moves (actually, a couple) to /POST CLIPPED/  But I have this weird feeling that "Carlton" is going to stick as my official nickname forever... I officially hate myself. You just had to be there :)

All I got to say -- in sweet defense -- is that I love my brooks brother tie and my gray wool sweater. I would take neither off for no one.  No one.

 

The End a 65 Day Alcohol Strike

Well, I head off to Chicago on American Airlines flight 2487, with direct service from BOS to ORD (and continuing service to PHX) in about 6 hours to spend New Years with the mofos and put an end to my 65 day alcohol strike.  Striking happened to be difficult.  I realized -- but never faced with such start intensity -- how much alcohol was literally flowing through my life on a regular basis.  From excellently-tasting microbrewery beer to excellently-priced keg beer, from cocktails at business functions to wine at church functions, all of this was all cut off. 

The strike has not been without great benefit.  For one, cheating was not an option.  This task became more of a mission based on integrity as the days and weeks moved on; never before I have been encouraged (albeit, sometimes sought the advice) to "cheat a little bit."  That only fueled the desire to bite the bullet -- at times, only to face disgust with the quest -- especially when I had to ask for sparkling cider instead of champagne at toasts!  Even the physical "side-effects" have been interesting  As I first said to Greg and Lori (or maybe it was Peter and Natalie): "the weird thing is that I feel great--I can run faster, swim longer--this is amazing!"  Magically, acid reflux basically disappeared.  I've lost somewhere in between 12 and 17 pounds.  People kept on telling me I was sounding better as a cantor at church.

I'll have to let you know how New Years goes.  I mean, it's bound to be fun with the mofos... wish me and my liver luck!

Moving, Lonergan, and Seventy-Five Days

An agent through which vital powers are exercised.

Fall is finally becoming fall in Boston, in November.  Crisp and cool, just the way November should be.  I always thought that this type of fall weather lends itself to the nostalgia that replays inside my mind and supports the frustrated writer that lingers inside of me.  That's what I thought about when I was walking up Walker Street after I got off the bus this evening.  I was thinking about how much I really love my street, and how cool but strikingly red the fireball glowed from the utility pole at the top of my street, and how much I really loved what I do--even though I bitch and complain about it at times.  It's that new slug of a slog that I have to fight out and figure out.  I could quit.  But I love the playing field.

Beneath that fireball, though, I bumped upon Todd and Meg's U-Haul.  Todd and Dan were in it, amid all of the Todd and Meg's life that was getting squeezed into a 17-foot U-Haul.  Now, I always get really funny with change, especially moving.  I play things off like I'll see someone tomorrow.  I try to keep things "normal."  I laugh a bit and [/MESSAGE CLIPPED/]

The iPhone Commercial [ORD/SBN/MRY]

This is going to sound really weird.  But every time I hear/see the iPhone commercial, that little nostalgia button inside of me gets triggered.  It's like the music and the iPhone voiceover voice are really soothing.  At the same time, the shots -- I don't think I can call it cinematography -- have this flow that puts me into the Rudy/Skipping class for the BrewCo with Hill/Doors of Notre Dame/"walking across South Quad at dawn after pulling an all-nighter" kind of feel.  Everything's in soft, clean, incandescent-boosted hues.

And it all begs another question that I'll just answer.  I really miss Notre Dame.

I guess that's why I'm wicked excited to be making the trek on the third week of vacation.  Instead of celebrating a year on the job, I'll be celebrating the ND Perpetual Keggers, ND Football, ND Wedding.  And I really can't wait to go to the Grotto.  It's my favorite spot on campus, especially late in the summer when the Indiana humidity, 1000 chirping crickets, and faint sounds of the lake culminate in just one really surreal experience.  Just thinking about it makes me sigh.  And when I close my eyes and just think about it, the feeling of being relaxed pours over me.

Perhaps this is a little bit of hyperbole.  Perhaps it is.  But I think it answer's Erin's question from a few weeks ago.  I still think about that place.  And it still matters.  It matters to me.

Thank you, iPhone.

Clearly: popular

I have so many draft posts, here's a quip from the collected memories of my pre-graduation trip to Chicago last year.

You can take the kid away from Boston, but you can't take the Boston out of the kid... especially when Boston keeps on following you.  I know, I know.  Chicago should be Chicago.  But once I trekked from O'Hare on the Blue Line to Logan Square, I was wicked excited to hear that Hill and Alan had the same thing in mind: Dunkies, please. 

Who knows, Chicago might have yet another piece of Boston contained in it at some point in the near future...

Potpourri post: Decisions, Peter Lattman, the Devil Wears Prada, We are Called, Dictations like Meredith Grey, and AUSTIN or BUST!

I don't know how much more random my posts can get.  One thing is for certain: as the period of time between posts appears to grow, the content that I need to fit into each post grows.  Plus, right now, there's a lot going on and a lot on my mind.  For one, it's about time that spring seems to be gracing itself upon Bosto n (it was in the 50's today!), but then again, after all of the events that transpired today, I'm so ready to enjoy some sxsw...

So, drumroll please...

Peter Lattman & The Devil Wears Prada

I've been reading a lot of the Wall Street Journal Law Blog these days.  I guess that marks the official transition from being a Top-40, MTV loving junky [via Pink is the New Blog] to wearing pinstripe suits and reading the Wall Street Journal as I take the bus into work. 

Perhaps what it really means, though, is that I'm slowing transforming into the Young Urban Professional (i.e., a yuppie).  As a kid growing up in Charlestown, I constantly criticized (and mocked--with my friends from the B&G Club) the yuppies, but deep down inside, I secretly admired them.  Of course, as a 12-year old, the aspiration looked a lot greener than the reality.  Scratch that.  It's just fine, but whether first year attorney, first year surgical intern, first year teacher, or first year police officer, I'm realizing that every single career path I even vaguely considered (or on the flipside, desperately thought I wanted) just requires putting in the long hours, putting in more effort, putting in the blood sweat and tears.  It's just like hauling a** in school.  Heck, it's like Jesus being humbled, minus the whole crucifixion thing.  And all said and done--I'm a small fish again.

Peter Lattman and the Devil Wear Prada come into play here, in part, because last night, me, Jess, and her cousin watched DWP.  I know what you're thinking--it's a quintessential chick flick--but it kind of got me thinking: since I'm single, I should be doing more for work.  Like trying to learn more financial stuff.  Like anticipating everyone's moves.  Like adding 10 or 20 more hours to work (and not billing it out).  I'm young.  I should be able to handle it.  And maybe, as Peter Lattman reports, I can take appropriate charitable deductions for donating my used workslacks to the Boston's Long Island Shelter.

Of cou/MESSAGE CLIPPED/

She's a Maneater...

Well, New Year's Resolution #102 is already broken.  I haven't blogged as much, nor have I posted the pictures from DC yet. 

Alas, don't worry!  The pictures from Millie and Al's (an experience which was talked about in the Office, for sure) will surface as soon as I can make it to my parents' house.  Who could really hate on the Jello-shots?  Not me.

In the meantime, let me share with you some of Rachel's pics.  You should turn on iTunes and turn on that Nelly Furtado song, Maneater. 

H, H & N, with N in a near-t/t/e-chomping stance.

pointless, except it makes me smile in the wee hours of the AM.

A Pondering Thought from the View on the 34th Floor

Prayers of Thanksgiving, I feel, come in so many different ways for me.  Often times they are hard for me to articulate and communicate because they come about through some tangential experience--in the broadest sense of the phrase.  I don't know if they're sensoral or behaivoral or psychologoical or truly a message from God, but what I do know is that they raise me up in weird ways.

Often times, it better helps to experience them when I'm walking on my own (say, Notre Dame campus during Purdue Weekend) or when I can shut a door for a few minutes (like, here at work, with the view of South Boston and Dorchester Bay).

I had a lot to say and write, but I'm just going to paste the YouTube clip in here, courtesy of Ysmael.  (And yes, I'm so sorry that I couldn't make it out for the Notre Dame v. Army game NDMI/PKs.)

The Mofos/Perpetual Keggers take over Notre Dame again...

/ RELEASED 07 OCT 2006 /

Life is full of surprises.  For everything else, there's d-r-a-m-a.

Well, when you're with the ND Mofos and ND Perpetual Keggers (which I guess are one in the same), you know you're in for tons of drama, even if it's self-instigated by our own, loving, endearing, comedic, spiteful hating on each other that is making me laugh as I type.  Or maybe it's the picture from Corby's up above with the guys [clockwise from the white guy in white--Alan, Kevin ("Fluffy"), Ysmael, and Me (and apparently, now my nickname is "Papi?")] that is making me just chuckle [I have yet to understand why I look wet, but maybe someone can explain that to me?]. 

Either way, I hauled ass at work during the week, even pulled an all-nighter Thursday night into Friday, flew standby from Boston to Chicago, and hooked up w/Hill & co. in Lakeview so that we could trek another 90 miles to Notre Dame.  Oh how sweet life is.  You all know by now that Notre Dame is home for me.  The stories seem to communicate that the experience thrived off of one giant alcoholic experience, but that's only part of the story.  The rest of it -- and probably most important to me -- revolves around so many other things (which sweetly, and starting to be askewly, culminate in what is affectionately referred to as "Neal nostalgia"), and so many other people, but for sure, the mofos.

Ok, before I get all nostalgic on you people, let me just get it out there.  After the Purdue game, I found my way to dorm mass at Siegfried Hall, met up with Fr. John, bumped into tons of ramblers, and then went on a walk around campus on my own.  It rained during the Purdue game, so the campus smelt of a needed football victory and of freshly fallen rain evaporating in the now-setting midwestern sun.  Did the grotto and managed to hold back getting teary eyed.  Started walking around campus, and DID get teary eyed.  There's something about seeing the Dome -- and then flashing in thoughts of my parents and growing up in Charlestown -- that musters up uncontrollable emotional reactions inside of me that, yes, manifest themselves in a teary-eyed me walking around God Quad and South Quad.

Cheesy--yes.  Others have said it before, like Rudy's dad: [Upon entering Notre Dame Stadium] This is the most beautiful sight these eyes have ever seen!

Ok, I'm getting wicked tired now.  It's late, and I'm up later than I'd want to be because me and Jess have this thing for watching Boston Legal.  But the Keggers revealed their official tailgating flag, and I though that I'd share...

And in other events, while the peasants (I know I was always "copper with flints of gold!"), other people in the Neal-circle were DEFINITELY living it up Plat'num during the ND-Purdue game, ahem, Dan and Kim:

Lucky hoes!

In re: the Loser

So Eva Longoria is on Jay Leno, and the people of Mod Quad East suspect that she may be of child at the moment.  Some noticeable features: puffier face, "different" boobs, and changed hair color to hide all of the other changed physiological features.  I'm laughing now, though, because I'm just really kind of tired but running on adrenaline (still) from work.  And oh yeah, my body hurts.  Working out does that.

I have a whole bunch of short posts that I need to publish soon.  It's not that I haven't created them, but that I've just drafted them.  So maybe in a few days you'll get my bitch fest on getting my 3000 mile check up, why my "relationship" with Brady Quinn is strained, and of course, some nice and nostalgic posts--all reflections from work orientation.

And here's the kicker, though.

You would have had to watched 7 news tonight to figure out...

It's been a while

I've got that Staind song stuck in my head this morning.

But just as I post again, I'm heading off with Erin, Ro, Keith, Greg & Ed to go rafting on the Kennebec River up in Maine a couple of times again.  Even though it's pouring rain in New England and it looks like it's going to be in the 50s this weekend.  Jackman, here we come back!  So for the time being, you're stuck with the "ten-sentence-or-less" update I guess...

Don't worry.  I guess I'll be back Monday or so, Moose ears and all.

But to answer the questions...

• The Bar made me say "Oh SHIT!" many times.  It was analagous to being Elmo-ed.  But I haven't really thought about it in a while now.  That biatch is in some else's hands, BIOTCh and all (lol).
• Me and Jess have moved in to our new pad in Charlestown (and we got a spare bedroom, wink wink)
• I haven't made all those promised phone calls...
• too many people getting married (but I'm wicked excited: a closer Boyle relative got engaged!)
• I'm excited-scared-and-everything-else-in-between about work.  Orientation starts in New York City mid-September.
• Vacation and TV are such great things.  And by the way--CSI has surpassed Law and Order SVU on my "favorite TV shows" list.
• Perpetual Keggers'/Mofos' Reunion Game: Purdue.  But I might die at work the week before...

That's it folks.  Thank yous are still coming. And cell phone reception sucks on my street, but I'm trying.

Go Vacationland!  Beat Bay State!

A Prayer of Thanksgiving and a Prayer of Good Luck

First off, I want to wish everyone Good Luck on whatever state's (or states') bar exams that you begin tomorrow.  I think we've all prepped as much as we humanly can, getting beat up by BarBri and PMBR and so on... so now we need to kick in the creativity and hope and the inspiration that brought many of us to become lawyers in the first place. 

I like that vision from a hope standpoint, so that I can just keep on moving on.  But I think for all of us, there will be a few things that we maybe don't know--or really see--when those essays and state multiple choice and MPTs come in front of us.  Hopefully, that spark inside of us will keep us going.  Good luck, you!  Kick it, punch it, spit in its face... the bar exam is the enemy so go in and fight like it's your job! Booyah!

Second is a little more personal.  After all, the blog stems directly out of the Journaling that I've been doing since I was in the 5th grade.  The only difference now is that I kind of subject myself to the public light (that's what the comments, or the emails keep telling me... haha).

I have some groups to thank.  The obvious is God, being Catholic and all.  But those prayers I really said on my own, so I won't detail here....

When I emptied out my locker at Suffolk last night, and saw Brett Lovins when I was in the middle of a haze (and I think my conversation with him maybe got him worried, yes?), I realized: this bar exam is the culmination of really 20 years of formal education for me. 

It all started in Boston Public Schools -- at the Harvard-Kent School with Mrs. Kissling -- and since then I've been fortunate enough -- through St. Catherine's and Boston Latin and Notre Dame and Suffolk -- to meet so many educators who decided to work with my issues and get the best out of me.  In every ghetto, in every city, there's the geeky little kid who colors inside the lines and really likes to read and who really was shy and who couldn't win a fight for the life of him.  That was me circa 1986.  The balancing factor thanks goes out to all the guys, girls, adults, priests & nuns, coaches, camp directors, friends near and far, cousins and aunts and uncles and neighbors, and so many others in Charlestown and beyond who have really been great mentors and friends and have "had my back," literally and figuratively, advising and laughing and joking and criticizing and laughing some more.  For pointing out my faults and celebrating our victories.  This entire journey represents a joint venture of sorts.  I KNOW that I would NOT have got through this with out you all.  You get my thanks every time I see you, hang out with you, drink with you, vent with you, laugh with you, etc. etc.  But I just needed to recognize, you know!

And lastly, my family.  The Boyles. 

My siblings--Will, Ro, and Sean--are really my best friends, even though we fight and scream and basically live our lives in a drama-ful fashion, like we are straight out of MTV's the Real World.  Remember when we used to play "Mattress Coaster" when we lived in the Bricks?  Or all of our fart jokes?  Or the von-Boyle singers?  Remember when we moved to Lexington Street?  Our days up at the Bunker Hill Pool and how Greg the lifeguard made us do belly-flops into the deep end?  Oh, the days.  As much as I've hated being the oldest, I love you three.  I don't think anything could replace that and I kind of feel like I'm doing this for you as much as for me.  We shall do a toast up in Maine, for sure.

But more importantly, my mum and dad.  I can't really type this without some tears, but I love you and I thank you both so much for the sacrifices that you've made to make sure that your four kids can move on up.  I don't think that there's  any greater love than that.  And that's why, when things are looking grim in the middle of those essay days, I can count on your love and inspiration to carry me through.

* * * *

I'll be away for a while kids.  After the Bar, I'm going white water rafting up in Maine with the Charlestown kids.  Then the move-in to Russell Street begins.  Finally leaving home.  Free at last!

Good luck all of you guys!  And now, a little Irish Blessing because it's always worked...

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

And, one last  (because this one is (and has been the whole summer) pretty cool)...

Sunday, July 23

My Best To All This Week    

I don't mean to be overly dramatic over some silly little test, I merely continue a tradition in hopes of inspiring those who may harbor doubts over the coming days. And no matter the results, having experienced this firsthand, I respect all who give it their best shot.

Good luck to all taking the bar exam this week.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day
...
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

                                      

 

              

 

 

Specific Intent Crimes Much?

I had this joke about World Gym that I wanted to write about, but started to get scared about some defamation tort or another.  All I could think of was Schecter in my BarBri torts class, or what's her face from PMBR, rattling off defamation non-sense.  So I'll just paste the five stories I read on boston.com below so that you can try to assemble some whacked-out, drama-filled story of hate on your own!

FYI, Tina Fey was looking fantastic on Leno tonight, especially since she has like a 8 or 9 month old child, right?  She's so wholesome and cool... her husband's family is from Ohio, so I could totally relate and totally laughed... and her clip singing with Jimmy Fallon at Katie Couric Cancer Fundraiser reminded me of when Jimmy Fallon came to Notre Dame and showed up to the same dorm party that Kiflin, K-mos & Co. were at.... ahhhh nostalgia.

I need to finish up some essay flashcards so that I can do them while I'm eating breakfast alone at Friendly's tomorrow morning...

It's almost here.  Massachusetts Bar ends on Thursday.  Details of the aftah-bahhhhh plans will follow as they get formed.

3 Boston officers arraigned
The officers were accused of "selling their badges" to drug traffickers in a probe that could implicate other Boston police officials. (Boston Globe)

WORCESTER: 8 hurt in lightning strike

Ex-Patriot Ted Johnson arrested

Romney returns minimum wage bill

8 grocery employees stabbed in Tennessee

 

Ex-Pentagon officials accused of fraud

 

neal wants YOU on team FLUFFY!

ok, so maybe you won't get the title unless you were in Madison, Wisconsin the same weekend that I was...

Here's the deal.  I was watching Leno and got a little freaked out with Colin Farrell.  For some reason, I was like a hyper-sensitive viewer (maybe because I was blinded on my walk home from Suffolk WHILE doing my colourful flashcards, mind in brainfever, looking for a way out...) and felt a bit at dis-ease.  What is up with him?  Something awkward compared to the dude from 6 Feet Under and the Office.  So I continue to flip through flashcards, wondering why Massachusetts doesn't just adopt and codify the rules of Evidence already.  Then I give in.  I just need to watch some TV, goddamn it.  And not that I claim to be anything like Colin Farrell, but I realized I was weirded out because, at least from my present sense impressions, I could empathize: the thumbs up; the acting a little pissed off; the quasi-a-d-d.

Then, Conan came on.  Conan be cool.  And I started realizing: Conan is kind of funny, but he's also kind of scary.  Uma Thurman.  Not exactly wholesome Lindsay Lohan, but still scrumptious (a little bit of Kiflin & Kristin there for you).  Molest!  Yummy.  Hmmm.  Funny times.  Scary Conan.  Frightened.  Laughing.  Hmmm, I should call Vin.  Conan's on.  I bet she's watching.  Why aren't I tired??????  I just want to go to fuckin' bed!

I don't know if it's the No-Doze or what.  I'd like to think it's just the adrenaline.  What I do know is that going to bed isn't going to be any much better because I am just going to dream about contracts, and contingent remainders floating by easements, and manmade death traps that should have had warning signs, but didn't, and I'm dreaming, and "oh shit, there's an excited utterance that you're going to now use against me or someone else!!!"  Ayyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!! 

What I do know is that I could take the Bar Exam tomorrow.  It just needs to get done.  I need to be able to work with people and solve like, problems, and not multiple choice problems.  I need to be able to drink Chocolate milk and not worry about [name your tort/evidentiary rule/breach of contract].  I need to read more than multiple choice questions.  I need to be needed, and unfortunately, the Blue PMBR book, my BarBri MAT (Massachusetts Essays Testing) doesn't give me any kind of human satisfaction.  I'm sick of random nose bleeds that I've been getting, and I'm starting to think that my estranged family and friends and neighbors are sick of me sounding like I'm a paranoid law android straight out of some demented lawed-up contortion of a Radiohead album every time I walk and talk. This like sucks, "literally from my perspective" (that was for you, Alan), walking around taking my "break" through the Boston Common by walking with my iPod on at some products-liability deafening decible level, trying to zone out on some horrid Nelly Furtado hip hop, but afraid of losing any oh-so-important 4-1-1.  Yeah, I know that this is a right of passage.  Just another week.  Just another week.  Just another week.  Just another week.

Wow, that was a tangent. 

But you should have seen me 18 minutes ago, when I was rocking to Weezer, Kelly Clarkson, and Hanson.  You would have been mortified.  And you would have laughed so hard.  Wicked hard.  So hard honey nut cheerios would have been coming out of your ass...

Currently listening to: "Say It Ain't So" (Weezer).

Colin Farrell & The Beckhams. 

How about the 100 (more or less) freeze pops?

Well, kids, this might be the last post for a bit.  I've been meaning to post over the past week, but every time I'd sit down to write/pick up a phone/look at someone's facebook pictures, I'd feel kind of freaked out and figured (or let's say psychotically convinced myself) that I should be doing something for the bar exam.  Yes, it's that bizzaro.  PLUS, everything I look at is "the law."  When I was in church on Sunday, I analyzed the "Catholic-Priest-Recruiter-Priests" entire homily and the way he led the different liturgies of Mass in terms of law (it was actually kind of funny).

It's like being in the matrix right now kids (or the parallel story in my head--Sesame Street gone wrong).  You know that one scene when Neo looks around and everything is in 0's and 1?  You know when he's in the room with the maker (was that his name?) and the TVs have all the stuff in the world flickering on their screens?  And Oracle.  Oh, that nice elderly lady siting on the Sesame Street park bench.  She's there too, at times.  I just feel really enlightened right now and I'm putting stuff together, but at the same time, I so friggin' frightened that I just want to come out to the bar exam like Braveheart style and get'er done.  I'm almost at the Al Zappala point: foaming at the mouth to come in and attack.

Well, I was going to write about all of this inspirational stuff.  I actually had some funny things to say (I still can't stop thinking about blog content).  Like, the crazy "intervention" that Mark, Simone, Jim and James, and Colleen pulled to get me to eat a Tuna Cheese Melt at Silvertones.  Or how I've conformed my tone of talking into the male form of BarBri's very own Paula Franceze every time I talk to ANYONE these days.  Or PMBR -- that three day workshop -- had to be the greatest and most helpful point of bar prep yet.  Why is it that any time I'm around James, Sue, Jamie, Saraya, Georgia and others, we can always laugh at these crazy fact patterns.

My flashcards -- those things that have cemented shit in my head the past few days -- are wicked politically incorrect it's not even funny.  They need to be burned.

And people that I've flipped out on on the phone.  Greg-lo siento.  I couldn't hear you when I was walking over the MassPike.  And Denise.  Just remember, everytime I say "I really don't care about this rafting trip anymore" really means that I'm excited about Maine, I just don't understand.  Sassy... well, you know that I'm just a hopeless case, but I have half of a card for you.  Does that count?  And Hill, Alan, & Co.  Thanks for the random text messages.  Keep it real.  And Parker.  Yo, I got you package like yesterday.   We have some mail problems up in my parent's hood.

So here's a funny story.  Last night was the last day of the PMBR three day.  It was cool times.  Scary, but cool.  The professor teaching the live course was wicked awesome, she made me feel like I can go out to battle, so I basically convinced myself that she's cool, I can do this, and yeah I haven't (and won't) learn everything, so in the spirit of Crystal's words -- "Neal, you're making shit up" -- will be totally applicable on those essay days next week.  BUT, I worked out at Boston Sports Club for like an hour and a half last night.  When I left, I felt wicked awesome.  Of course, I had to get the Orange shuttle, so I had to walk from Downtown X-ing to Haymarket.  Not so bad...

I was walking down Devonshire Street doing my flashcards, and being really successful, feeling smart, not letting obscure con-law-crim-pro shit get me down.  Of course, I was talking to myself out loud and every person who passed me thought I was kind of weird.  But who cares.  You got to do what you got to do.  So as I'm walking near the Old State House, this guy who is passing me tugs my Timbuk2 bag.  I was like "what the heck?!  why are you trying to sexually assault me??"  And what do I do?  Holding a torts flashcard on blue card stock in my paw?  I walk RIGHT into a pole.

LOLOLOLOL

At least this ho won't have that problem (it's "Walking Julian" on the old Northern Avenue bridge")

Oh yeah, as a collateral story, why don't we all read this crazy Bill Belichick divorce story.

And for some laughs... I lead you back here.

Love is more than just a game for twwwoooo...

Just wicked beauteous, I say...

Kevin and John and Christie-Lee & Company, you make Madison, Wisconsin fabulous!

Are those flowers I see?  Catch them!  Catch them!  No, they're mine biatch!  Move... get out the way... I'm PLAT'NUM!

Hotness.

If only you knew.  Everyone should just love Wisconsin.  Really now.  To be continued, Massachusetts style, for sure... ;-)

Law meets Pink

Really, this post is a three-fold excuse:

1. I don't want to go to bed because the adrenaline is running from the thought of doing Bar/Bri simulated MBE tomorrow... alongside the idea of being part of a class action suit!
2. I haven't plagiarized from Pink is the New Blog in a while.
3. So three, this is a follow up to the conversation that me and Hill had on our search for liquid lunch.  We ended up at Sam & George's.  Oh, Madison-Chicago weekend.... when life was footloose and fancyfree.  (and oh shit, I still need to post of that!)
4. Err, maybe four.  Just wanted to add that I made up tons of law today during my simulated essay thang and biatches, half of it was right! 

without further ado, some plagiarism:

Naomi Campbell is being sued by another employee for another alleged assault. Here are pictures of the Diva Supreme making her grand entrance at the courthouse earlier this week:

I love it ... Naomi always looks amazing when she shows up for these court hearings. Even tho she's smiling on the outside you just know she's dying to beat a beyotch down on the inside. [Source]

Weddings across the country

Well kiddos, I'll be in Madison, Wisconsin for a wedding this weekend.  I'm bringing my PMBR red multistate book to do questions all weekend.  I want Robert Feinberg to be absolutely proud of me.  And I never want to pick pavlov dog answers.

Nah, really I'm just a psycho fool, but it will make me feel good. Plus, I want to piss off the people at United Airlines and have them challenge the 10 pound book as an extra carry-on.  At first, I thought bringing the book would force me to do them on the plane.  But I thought last night "Errr, maybe not.  We'll see." 

Truth is, I'm always a sucker for buying the Economist AND Men's Health (I'm always a sucker for the "1287 ways of AMAZING Sex inside an airplane" and "get rippling abs in 7 days on a beer & keg diet) when the sirens of Hudson News tempt me.  Oh! 

Anyway, I need to finish packing and stuff.  Then go to BarBri.  I leave you with an inside joke from Torts:

Are you a LEPER?

Happy Moment #7172004

Ehh, I can't do any work at home.  Who am I kidding?  Gotta finish this Massachusetts Civil Procedure and all of this Federal Courts stuff, or else I am going to drive myself crazy...

I'm just thinking: punish myself with five days of hard labor and grueling bar bri and pmbr stuff, and then I'm rewarded and off to Chicago and Wisconsin and Bars and a Wedding for four days.  Yummy.  Beer and Sun, Sheffield and State.  I really want to drink my Goose Island 312 with some orange peel.  I will have to wait until Thursday evening.  Yummy.  Proper authorities of power, take note.

I was flipping through some of my pictures and found this one from when I first got my digital camera.  Our "Sing it, Mrs. M" sing along, with Denise trying to get guitar lessons from Joe and my cousin Dano (in the Red Shirt).  You had to be there I guess.  I was the singer.  That was before my Karaoke Oasis Kareer at Sully's.