It was the summer of '06

Key word, at this point, being "was".

I've been toying around with the idea of starting a blog ever since livejournal began losing its luster. Nothing against livejournal of course. For two years I updated religiously - pouring every bit of passion I had, in whatever it was at the time I was passionate about, and inevitably flooded cyberspace with my issues. This is not to say that my time spent playing the online journal game was wasted. I lived and breathed for comments posted. I weathered fights and controversies, however petty, that were violently accellerated by the publicity associated with internet slander. I mourned loves lost and celebrated newfound interest. I was, for once, participating in something bigger.

But now I feel that a larger number in my age column requires, or even entitles, me to leave a community that is so unfortunately labeled "high school". As we throw our caps in the air we, referring to whatever breakdown of american youth I am most familiar with, do several things in very quick succession. We delete our myspaces and make facebooks (which is just as well. The world could use less cancer). We trade in our "Brand New" "Taking Back Sunday" and "The Ataris" records for titles by Kanye West, Dave Matthews, and The Decembrists. And we invariably disassociate from anything we invested in in high school (namely, of course, livejournal. This of course also applies to the MakeOutClub... which I was somehow managed to miss out on. Count my blessings). To make my observation more scholarly, note that the key demographic for livejournal users is 16-18 year old females from California... which sounds interestingly similar to the demographic for MTV's new smash hit "The Hills". Spare me.

So.

Age is change.

Livejournal is passe.

and Indie is hip.

Shaken, not stirred, and served with a crisp twist of irony. Oh what it is to be young.

To clarify and bring this back to a personal account as opposed to an uninspired essay: the move to the blog is me trying to fill shoes I, with a society of young urban satirists beside me, have manifested. This isn't about conformity. It's about identity. And for me it's about finding the best medium for expression. Hello blogger. Oh. And don't ever expect me to throw "Tell All Your Friends" away, Kanye.


It was a good summer.

Despite being enslaved by an army of five year old children in excellent financial situations I managed to find time for seeing people and doing what little there is to do in Monmouth County, New Jersey. For those unaware, I was employed by Rolling Hills Day Camp for the last 8 weeks. To sum the experience up, it's a good thing I didn't start this blog until now. It spares you, the reader, a lot of frustration in attempting to read my ranting. It's absolutely true that you hate the job until the last day, however, at which point you fall in love with it. Translated: tipping was very very good to me. And you know, despite how much anger they can kindle in you, five year olds are really good at getting you emotionally attached to them. I'm going to miss them. Well, a handful of them.

It was also a good year for the movies. After spending ten bucks a pop on tickets for Superman, Pirates of the Caribbean 2, Clerks 2, and, of course, Snakes on a Plane... I can't say I regret it. Seriously though. Snakes on a Plane. Awesome.

It seems as if the summer between your last year of high school and your first year of college is an opportunity, however automatic and mandatory, to filter out lasting friends from superficial ones. You realize, upon graduation, that you don't actually have to be nice to anyone simply because you MUST deal with them on a day to day basis. The result of this is at the same time depressing and liberating. There are a select number of people that I am really truly going to miss. And that upsets me. More on that in future posts I'm sure. Which pretty much segways into college.

College.

What a milestone, man. Four years to simultaneously forge your future and be as irresponsible as you possibly can be. It's scary. It's daunting. It's really really nerve wracking. But I'm excited. This is a clean slate. A chance to start over and remedy anything I ever fucked up in high school. I'll take that in a second.

Which brings us to now. Less than two weeks to liftoff.

Oh, baby.

Bomb the Blogosphere,
Mike