Even after almost three years of being back in the States, I still find certain things hard to adjust to. Stress is one of those items. The US is all about time lines, deadlines, coffee, rush hour, cell phones, Blackberries, iPods, wireless internet, mass transportation, and RockStar. Thinking about it makes my blood pressure go up.
Maybe it is living in the city. Alaska was quiet. Hiland Mountain was quiet.
I grew up on a mountain away from pretty much everything. In retrospect, it was glorious, but one of those things unappreciated with youthful wants. No neighbors. No Mormons. No Girl Scouts. No crazy people spitting foam on you as you walk to the T. Just you, the mountain, and the occasional moose and bear.
Standing in the woods while the light white snow falls is the most serene moment man can experience.
Second only to lying on the mountainside in a purple crumpled sled as the Northern Lights shimmer and dance, and bask you in their sea green glow.
I miss the mountains. I miss the peace.
10.05.2007
10.03.2007
Neglect
I have been neglecting my blog. It is an unhealthy relationship really. I say "you're so fat", and it says "love me for what I am". Then I go and drink beer. It is a vicious cycle.
I am back in the graduate school grind and it is killing me. I have four classes, Macroeconomics, Negotiations, Infrastructure and Finance, and Italian. Why Italian? Send me an email, and we will talk.
Negotiations is great. It is described as the art of convincing other people to have it your way. We have class lectures and role-play scenarios. It is a bit intense. Some people cry, some people make enemies. I lie. A lot. Yesterday I said "$25 is my break even point. I honestly can't go below that. Business is not about paying to do other's work." My bottom line was $10, we settled at $25. Bwahaha.
Harvard is a trip. Sometimes the tweed and wool is a bit too much for me. I have a ghetto side that is always trying to go to class in cargo shorts and Crocs, but inevitably the person I sit next to is an international world leader or hack politician on sabbatical. Then I feel bad. Just a little bit.
I recently went suit shopping, a sign that I am officially caving to the man. Sigh. My negotiation lessons didn't pay off while I stood in front of the mirrors. Suit salesmen are worse than used car salesmen. A used car salesman appeals to your ego but a suit salesman appeal to your vanity in irrefutable ways.
Back to my Italian.
I am back in the graduate school grind and it is killing me. I have four classes, Macroeconomics, Negotiations, Infrastructure and Finance, and Italian. Why Italian? Send me an email, and we will talk.
Negotiations is great. It is described as the art of convincing other people to have it your way. We have class lectures and role-play scenarios. It is a bit intense. Some people cry, some people make enemies. I lie. A lot. Yesterday I said "$25 is my break even point. I honestly can't go below that. Business is not about paying to do other's work." My bottom line was $10, we settled at $25. Bwahaha.
Harvard is a trip. Sometimes the tweed and wool is a bit too much for me. I have a ghetto side that is always trying to go to class in cargo shorts and Crocs, but inevitably the person I sit next to is an international world leader or hack politician on sabbatical. Then I feel bad. Just a little bit.
I recently went suit shopping, a sign that I am officially caving to the man. Sigh. My negotiation lessons didn't pay off while I stood in front of the mirrors. Suit salesmen are worse than used car salesmen. A used car salesman appeals to your ego but a suit salesman appeal to your vanity in irrefutable ways.
Back to my Italian.
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