It was the last time I ever saw a rose

I am thoroughly displeased with the selection fonts available on this blog. I need something that can properly convey my post-teen angst, my first-world woes. Meh, I'll just have to settle for "Trebuchet". For a font named after a twelfth century catapult, it doesn't have much attack. I need a font that cuts like a knife, as opposed to pushing like two four year old school girls fighting over a Barbie doll. Seriously though. How am I to philosophize with such a matter-of-fact, weak font. Maybe a change of color will aid me in channeling my conscience. There we go. It is the closest I could get to the color of dried blood on my white down pillow. I feel much better now.

I will not talk of my trip to Paris. In the wise words of my friend David, "It is best to just put bad experiences behind you, and move forward."

As of late, I found found myself in dire need of distractions. I have immersed myself in "wholesome", "family" activities, as a means of beguilement: Bike rides, ice-breaker games, pizza and ice-cream nights. Movie night is on Thursday! Oh joy! I even went "shopping" with Caroline at Homme de Fer, an experience worth noting.

We arrived at the tram station at about 4:00pm. As typical of a tourist hub such as Strasbourg on a week day, the streets were packed with your typical day-trippers and sight-seers. We went first to a bookstore adjacent to Place Kleber, as I informed Caroline that I was looking for a science fiction novel that a friend had recommended to me. Even though I was positive that they wouldn't have it, I walked into the little librarie with a hopeful heart. After about five minutes of leisurely browsing, I found it. The Diamond Age by Neil Stephenson. Perhaps it wasn't simply my friend's persuasive urgings that led me to buy the book. It may have also had something to do with my reading the first few pages prior to purchase, pages which contained subtle pertinence to my own life. The Diamond Age centers around a girl named Nell, a young orphan living in a futuristic society in which technology dominates all aspects of life: A world in which a nano-implant can make you muscly and vascular, where a pill can exponentially increase your brain power, where money can most certainly buy happiness. I found myself wondering if such a world was made for me: One who is constantly vexed by his own inefficiencies, idiosyncrasies, and shortcomings, someone who is tired of searching for that things that make him happy and who has an insatiable appetite for instant gratification.

Long story short, I bought the book and we made our way to the most deplorable of places. I'm talking about a place where only the most despicable, vapid, repugnant individuals dare to venture: A place where lost souls go to get their fix, where zombies that refuse to live go to die. This place was Louis Vuitton. Upon entering the wretched store, I felt the eyes of the bourgeois searing at my back like molten steel. How could eyes so cold, so empty, burn so hot; Eyes, that lionize the purposeless and close at night, yielding only sweet, untumultuous sleep. The price tags of these seemingly normal articles of clothing stared me in the face with such disdain. I did not belong there. No one did. This place was a drain stopper at best. What holes were these people trying to fill? Resisting the urge to burn this establishment to the ground, I left. And Where did we go next? La Galleries Lafayette: Perhaps the only venue that could one up Louis with its lack of purpose. "Stitched together into this beautiful monster...It is just a skull full of chlorine in the septic tank". Oh yes, I forgot to mention that on the tram ride back, I was fortunate enough to see a young child (couldn't have been more than one and a half years old) fall several feet directly onto her head, due to the negligence of her mother. This child's care taker had carelessly positioned her daughter in the seat across from her, so that she could hold what was truly important in her own arms: shopping bags. And of course, when the tram took the slightest turn, the little girl went tumbling. What an ironic end to a superficial day!

On a more positive note, I went on a wonderful bike ride with Jim, Jan, Macy, Tyler, and Rachael yesterday. We trekked throughout the city center of Strasbourg, passing the Cathedral, Le Rue de Freres and Le Petite France, just to name a few locations. The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun did not bear down on my skin as it usually does in this city, the breeze was impeccable, and the tourists were either on their planes home or in bed. The mood was jovial, and the ride leisurely yet informative. We would stop every so often so that Jim and Jan could tell us various facts and stories about the districts and places that were were traversing. I was grateful to have them as guides, to distract me from my own thoughts and unpleasant musings with their edifying anecdotes and amiable conversation.

I will go now. I need to do some research on prospective law schools and the LSAT, while simultaneously contemplating why exactly I want to be a lawyer. I would like to think that I want to help people, but the majority of my intentions remain selfish ones. To hell with it. I think I will abandon all virtue and pursue a job as a Louis Vuitton copyright lawyer, holding poor bootleggers on the streets of New York City monetarily accountable for their atrocious crimes against humanity.

-Tyler C.