Post I wrote last Thursday.

[So, it turns out that the wireless internet access at my hotel in NYC sucks. I wasn't going to post this from my new desk on my first day of work on Friday. So, here you go, only four days late.]

Hello from the Big Manzana.

This was finals week for me and tomorrow I start my internship here.
On Tuesday, we went on a date and saw The Break Up. It was decently funny overall. The funniest part of the movie was that the first five minutes pretty accurately represented Jen and I's relationship for the two years before we got married. The exceptions? I'm not a self-important jerk and Jen doesn't overeact and shares her feelings before boiling over. Best part of the movie? Hands down Jennifer Anniston's blurry bare ass. Second best part of the movie? The idea that a fat, self-involved jerk can get a girl like Jennifer Anniston (talk fast, make'm laugh).

One of the previews was for Accepted. I have to admit that the propaganda actually made me want to see the movie. The fact that some guys start a college where there is no curriculum and the students are the teachers reminded me of this quote from your pal and mine, Ralph Waldo Emerson:

“If the colleges were better, if they really had it, you would need to get the police at the gates to keep order in the inrushing multitude. See in college how we thwart the natural love of learning by leaving the natural method of teaching what each wishes to learn, and insisting that you shall learn what you have no taste or capacity for. The college, which should be a place of delightful labor, is made odious and unhealthy, and the young men are tempted to frivolous amusements to rally their jaded spirits. I would have the studies elective. Scholarship is to be created not by compulsion, but by awakening a pure interest in knowledge.”

How true.

Last night we celebrated two friends' birthdays and basically the end of finals by being loud and obnoxious at the BYOB sushi restaurant sushi X. We then hit Duffy's for $17 all you can drink until 1 AM.

This morning, I was fine. I scrambled to pack and catch my cab. In the cab, my head decided that it wasn't happy with me and began a post-drinking protest the likes of which I haven't seen. Now I'm here, the place I'll call home for at least one night out of each of the next 11 weeks.