Also,

Paul Lansky- Mild und Leise

the good music conference

Go to THIS BLOG right fucking now.

It's written by my friend Jesse who's just about the coolest person I know. I also might be dating him, but not intentionally. It's only because as straight men we go on more dates than most couples do.

Anyway, browsing this blog, I found like 20 songs that I liked immediately, and there's like 20 songs on the website. It's awesome, the downloads are sick and they don't waste your time with any bullshit reviews, just a few sentences of why you should download the song. So go and download some shit.

Home

What is home?

When I first went back to my house for Rosh Hashana last week, I noticed something strikingly different between what my house was and what it had been- my house was no longer my home. It was an odd sensation, but in two weeks, my whole sense of reality had suddenly flipped around. I calculated how many rides I had left on my ten trip- My last trip would be a train back to Columbia. I tried sleeping but couldn't stop shifting- I wasn't used to the bed that I had slept in just weeks before. Then, before I left my house, I told my parents "goodbye, I'll call you when I get home!"

What's different? All the junk in my old room is the same, I didn't remove any of the decorations or any of the stuff. I just sat on my bed and gazed around, and all I could think of was "this isn't me anymore. I don't belong here." After a day and a half with my family, I felt like I was getting "homesick-" I just wanted to be back with my friends in my dorm with my shitty food.

This is just an observation I guess. 2AM doesn't lend itself nicely to insightful blog posts- I rarely make any insight anymore, just a whole lotta observation.

Well anyway, it's good to be home, wherever it is.

RYAN MANDELBAUM FOR CCSC GUY

I'm running for Columbia College Student Council Representative for the Class of 2013. Vote for me. Or don't.

Thoughts on NSOP

Thanks to some strange nights and packed days, there really hasn't been much to talk about on my blog. I really didn't think about any of it, I kinda just floated about for a week, trying to experience as much as I could and all that jazz. Classes started today and I'm trying to get my head back into some non-intoxicated, school-oriented state. Well, let me get straight to it.

Orientation is for getting students acclimated to their school environment. Strangely at Columbia, it doesn't do that at all. From NSOP, a student could gather that Columbia was a happening party school, where the frats welcomed any and all students every night, beer flowed like water, hookah bars were set up on all the steps, bedtime never came, and where one could simply hop on the subway whenever and end up wherever.

Not that that's a bad thing.

Orientation has been a friendmaking whirr for me. I try hanging out with old chums from my outdoor orientation program, but am quickly pulled aside by a "hey you should meet" or "hi my name is" or whatever. It's a strange experience to learn so many names, have so many conversations, all that.

As it came to a close, I realized that NSOP is a precious time to live the Asher Roth college life and do whatever you want. Now it's coming to a close and it's time to start my actual college experience, study for my degree, and live the rest of my life.

Class has started now, and suddenly the necessity of doing my work and actually doing stuff is hanging over my head. It's odd to finally have obligations, but in all honesty, it's really, really exciting; and aside from the fact that my LitHum section has three "that guys," my schedule is fantastic and I'm happy to be learning new things, finally.

I know this post wasn't really insightful or anything, but I'm still here and I'm still blogging.

College

I'm in college right now, sitting at my desk and studying for a physics placement exam.

weird.

Bonefish.

Thanks for the intro, Paul, glad to have ya!

Anyway, as some of my friends can vouch, I've been pretty depressed lately. Not just depresssion depressed... existential depressed and stuff. Thanks to James Joyce, all I thought of from last Tuesday to this Thursday was about where I came from, why I'm here, and what's gonna happen to me, and the answer to all three of those questions was , to my disdain, who knows? Of course, I didn't like that and kept coming to the conclusion that I just needed to stop thinkin' bout all of that crap. Couldn't do it, though.

Then, today I had an experience that made me forget all of it, one that really changed my outlook and cheered me the hell up.

(I just put on "Peacebone" by Animal Collective to accompany this description)

Today was my last day at work. I work an awful, boring-ass job at a country club and do nothing but press buttons on a computer. Usually I leave work at 3, but today there was extra shit to do, so I had to lift like, 20 really heavy tables for an hour. It was awful.

I moped over to my car after the day was over and turned the key in the ignition. I was miffed, a little relieved, but absolutely depressed. I pulled the car out, then found a CD under my seat- Strawberry Jam by Animal Collective. "Peacebone" came on and I started to drive.

I started to pull out as the assorted noises of the intro began. Bonefish. I pressed down on the gas, the car lurched forward. I was slowly drawn into Avey's singing, a peacebone got found... mulling over his lyrics and driving. I passed the houses of Hewlett Harbor and a few cars, leaking the most interesting colors. I slowly pressed down on the gas. I felt as the car accelerated under my foots weight, all by my own doing. The verse continued on as I waited at a red light and I began chanting, until the chorus began- and half of my fingers are dipped in the sand, you progress in letters... the light turned green and I suddenly had an epiphany. I was in total control - it's not the words that you should follow- and I slammed my foot against the gas. Insides! Complete release. Insides! I flew out into the street, like a pelican and reptile, and flew towards West Broadway, second chorus- just a few things are related to the old times! 50, 60mph, a free road. (screams!) I realized I had been shouting the song out of my open window- I didn't end in a yard but I kept going and going with a broad smile on my face. I turned down a random street- the taste of your cooking made me bow on the ground- and took all the turns as fast as I could, screaming along with Panda Bear and Avey Tare and an obsession with the past is like a dead fly, when we did believe in magic and we did die. I skidded around a turn and flew into my driveway... Inside, inside. I slammed the brakes. Inside, inside, I slowed to a near halt. Peacebone, peacebone, I creeped into the parking spot. peacebone, peacebone, I closed my eyes, put the car in park, and turned it off.

Bonefish.

As I exited the car, my ears still ringing with Animal Collective, I realized that I had completely forgotten everything I had despaired about. I thought back; through the five minutes of shouting and extremely reckless driving, I had found my own meaning to life, my own outlook to follow-

Live for the moment. Life is about simple pleasures and finding what makes you happy, and staying happy by indulging in these little pleasures. Who cares if you're going to die in 10, 20, or 60 years? Why not make every moment of those years a screaming joy ride, whether it be through actually using the handbrake for the first time (there are skidmarks on the intersection of Lincoln and Arbuckle to prove it) rapping along with Snoop Dogg as you sit in your cubicle, reading a book in Scots or just doin' whatever makes you feel good about yourself and your surroundings?

So live for the moment, find those little pleasures, and no matter how your life turns out, at the end you can look back on it and think, wow, I had a damn good time.