My Post Halloween Crappiness

November 4, 2010

I love Halloween. I will quote myself from two years ago, when I said that Halloween is great because women dress like a “slutty nurse, the slutty umpire, the slutty devil, the slutty football player, and the slutty mentally handicapped person.” (Side note: This year, instead of girls dressing like a slutty (insert costume here), girls opted to dress as Lady Gaga. Lady Gaga is in no way slutty or attractive. In fact, she represents everything I hate about society today. She is fake. She was probably some rich New York Gossip Girl who got bored one day with spending all her parents money and created some persona. Don’t get me wrong, she writes catchy music, but I’m pretty sure she’d be as effective and more attractive if she wore a Gap shirt and blue jeans. Okay, I’m done. Side note 2: I just checked Wikipedia, and I was right, she was some rich New York Gossip Girl. Damn, I’m good).

Well, over the past two Halloweens, Halloween has come to mean more to me then just standing in line for an hour to get into a crowded bar where you can’t move. First, it means that I have to hear the Halloween parade one avenue away from me until one in the morning (imagine 100,000 Lady Gaga costumes). Second, it means that my fun is pretty much over.

You see, law school kind of sucks after Halloween. For me, the first two months consists of going out three nights a week, watching a lot of television (I already caught up with Modern Family and considered rewatching LOST, but then I realized the ending would still suck), procrastinating, and of course, thinking of blogs to write. It also means staying updated with my reading for law school, but if I don’t understand something, I say, “Oh well, I’ll figure it out in a month.” (i.e. I thought Torts was a French pastry until November 14, 2009. That was a very disappointing day).

But after Halloween, things change. In law school, we have to make outlines for our finals. This is a time consuming process that involves a lot of frustration, purchasing of horn books, and figuring out how long of a break I can take if I do 50 straight minutes of work (answer: 15 minutes… which turns into 30 minutes). The Monday after Halloween is when I start these.

So what changes for Mike now that he’s in outline season? For one, it means watching less television. It also means not going out as often (maybe once or twice a week), and when I do go out, I set a curfew for myself (try talking to a girl while looking at your cell phone clock every 15 minutes thinking, “If I leave here at 2 and plan to wake up at 9, that’s still 7ish hours of sleep.” It’s impossible. You end up just talking about time and law school… and then politely excusing yourself because you can’t hold a conversation any longer). It’s awful.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I will have less fun than you will this month. Unless, dear reader, you are a law student or medical student. Then your life will be as terrible (or as Sir Charles says, “Turble”) as mine will be.

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Yet Another Reason Why Law School Is Harder Than Your Life

March 11, 2010

I’ll admit it: I continue to write why law school is harder than whatever you are doing because it makes me feel better about myself. If you don’t like it, just click the little “X” button on the right hand side of the window (or for the cooler Mac users (yes, I’m a Mac elitist) the little red circle on the left hand side of the window). It makes me feel better because there must be some rhyme or reason to subjecting myself to this, but I haven’t exactly put my finger on it (some reasons I have come up with include: making more money, helping people (haha), the social scene of law school being almost on par with my old social life, actually liking the law). Because, I have only come up with four sub-par reasons for this, I continue to compare my long days to most people’s (including people working at jobs where they make money (I would love some money) and people in other graduate school programs), and it makes me feel better about myself. Also, a third of my readers are probably law students and they could relate (What? I like getting hits on my blog).

My newest rant has been inspired from what I saw while on the elliptical at the gym today (yes, men do go on the elliptical. I swear I’m not the only one). I was watching the television and flipped to MTV where they were playing live performances (they were actually playing music. I know, it’s shocking. I was expecting (and hoping) for a Jersey Shore re-run). These live performances were of past MTV-U Spring Breaks. It finally clicked in my head that a year ago on March 16, I was on the cruise of a lifetime, where I was drinking, having fun with friends and acting a fool (do I have to cite Ludacris for that?). Yes, it finally occurred to me that March has rolled around and this means it is time for Spring Break. Although I have spring break this year, it won’t be like past years.

In the past I have had the incredible opportunities to go to New Orleans (I did do relief work, but Bourbon Street is god’s gift to humanity, and I would advise all people under the age of 25 to go there and go crazy), Florida and Mexico. This spring break will be slightly different. I am taking a week and a half long (Sweet! The longest spring break I have ever have) vacation to my hometown in New Jersey (Not sweet!), where I will be chained down by Passover (Not sweet!) and writing my law school final outlines (Definitely not sweet!). Let me explain to you how crappy this truly is: Passover, by itself, is a great holiday (I love seders), but the great minds of the Jewish religion definitely didn’t think this one through. First off, they put it during and around Spring Break time, and for Jewy-Jews, this means one thing: no traveling. Why? Because we can’t eat anything (seriously, would you go to Italy if you couldn’t eat the pasta, pizza, bread products, cannolis, and anything else? No. Budda-ay!). Thus, I will be stuck in New Jersey. To add insult to injury, I am in law school. For those of you who haven’t read anything about law school, for finals we have to do outlines, which are essentially how we learn the entire year’s material for the test. Being the diligent person I am (oh shit, I’m giving away my study secrets. I hope the cut throat kids aren’t reading this), I am going to start outlining over break (and for you cut throat kids, if you truly want to learn the material I hear it is best to do your outlines while being under the influence of alcohol… or may you just shouldn’t do them at all. Wouldn’t that be a challenge?). So, while you other undergraduate and graduate students enjoy your fun in the sun, sleeping late, and general debauchery, I will be at my town’s library for the second time since I’ve been in law school and second time since elementary school (and the invention of internet researching). I hate all you slackers.


Love and Law School

February 10, 2010

Let me first point out that yes, I did make a play on words on the famed Spike Lee movie “Love and Basketball” (let me just say that this is one of the few great sports movies that females can also enjoy. Come on, just look at the title: the basketball part is for males and the love part is for females. It works brilliantly. See also Jerry McGuire).

But on to the real reason for this post: Valentine’s Day. In the past, I have demonstrated a hate for Valentine’s Day synonymous to the hate New York has for Boston or Maryland has for Duke (man I’m just rolling with the sports commentary in this blog… probably has something to do with the fact that the rest of this post will be emasculated by talking about love). However, this year I’m going to take a different route. I’m not going to talk about how I think the holiday is ridiculous (which I have lessened my stance on), but instead I’m going to talk about the impossibility of maintaining a strong relationship in law school and the fact that those who do are god among men (and women).

First, I want you to take a look at a normal weekly schedule for me (click image for full size):

As you can tell, it’s pretty packed. There isn’t that much room for fun. Or having a girlfriend. I go to sleep at around 11:30 so there really isn’t anytime for anything really, except for Lost, of course (and the hours necessary to think about the show is left for when I’m in a boring class). According to my flawless logic (I say that VERY lightly), with a girlfriend (or for the ladies, boyfriend) in the picture, you probably need to dedicate an hour a day to them at least. You have to figure that your significant other will want to talk on the phone with you, or if you live together, have a meal with you or vent about how shitty their job is (and then you answer, “Are you serious? I’m in law school! I am in a buttload of debt, work my ass off and have no time to myself.” Then your significant other leaves the table, goes into his/her room and you have thus ruined the one hour of couple time for the day). Therefore, one must maximize the time in the day to include this lovely person.

So, what to eliminate first? It’s definitely not the gym. According to Mike’s Encyclopedia of Incredibly Flawed Theories (it’s copyrighted so don’t even think of stealing it), relationships are 40% physical. This means one thing: if you don’t look good (or don’t over compensate in some other area), your relationship is 40% closer to ending. Here are samples of what a girl or guy can end up looking like without the gym:


Would you date these people? The answer is no (unless your name is Tom Arnold). So, therefore, the gym can’t be eliminated. The next option is eliminating sleep. But, that is just out of the question. I have found that my quality of work goes down when I don’t have the proper amount of sleep. So, the only possible option (besides on Tuesdays when I can eliminate Lost, but that is the equivalent of killing a family member–you just don’t do it) is to cut down on homework and studying. This, unfortunately, also has some pretty tough negative side effects. If you eliminate the amount of work you do during the week, you will probably become a worse student. When you become a worse student, your job prospects go down (or so they tell us… I don’t believe it, but let’s say you do believe this propaganda), and then you can’t provide for you and your significant other who has the terrible job. This is just a terrible situation.

So what is the solution here? Well, besides spending all your (limited) free time on the weekend begging your significant other for forgiveness or ordering every flower possible on 1-800-Flowers.com, you have two options: sacrifice your quality of work, or have a failing relationship (I’m sure Kobe and Shaq didn’t sacrifice their quality of work so their relationship failed… sorry I had to throw in one last sports reference). It’s a tough line to toe. I don’t have a solution here, but you can see where the conundrum lies. With that, I want to salute the people who maintain their relationships in law school. Damn, homie. I couldn’t imagine doing well at both… or doing well at one by itself either.


Mike’s Gratuitous New Year’s Post 2010

December 23, 2009

First things first, I’m skipping right over the Christmas Post. In past years, I have really grown to not like Christmas, but something has changed this year (maybe it has something to do with living in the same city as the location of Home Alone 2–easily the best Christmas movie ever… and this awesome medley). I like Christmas (however, I’m still a little annoyed that Santa has skipped over my house for the past 22 years… I couldn’t imagine why). It has made Chanukah try to measure up to it. What can I say, I love gifts.

Second things second, now that I have had this blog for over a year and a half, I have gone back and looked at past posts to think about what I was thinking of the same time a year ago. One of the first ones I looked forward to reading was last New Year’s Post (I actually had two of them). In the second New Year’s post (not the one where I wrote about how much I hate New Year’s), I wrote my New Year’s resolutions for the 2009 year. Looking past the fact that resolutions are clearly stupid (seriously, you just end up disappointed), here is the outcome of Mike’s 2009 Resolutions:

Eliminate the words hate and awkward. For the first couple months of 2009, I was really good with both words. But then I realized: there are some things I hate. I hate cold weather. I hate the taste of mustard. I hate stupid people. I know in my post last year I said it was too strong of a word, and should only be saved for things that you truly hate, but seriously, these are things in my life I can’t stand (I fully acknowledge that the list I made is truly small in the grand scheme of things). Although I used it less (for instance, I don’t hate Kanye West’s deuchey personality, I just dislike it and would never hang out with him… unless he buys the drinks. Or, I don’t hate what they’ve done to Scrubs, I just strongly dislike it), I still use the word “hate”. I just save it for things I’m very passionate about (mostly stupid people). Also, with awkward, I have completely eliminated this word from my vocabulary. Even when I type it here and I read it back in my head, it makes me cringe. This word should be saved for the 16-year-old girls who truly are in that awkward, why am I flatter than the rest of the girls stage.

Lose 10 pounds. Check. Thank you cocaine and cigarettes. I kid, I kid. It’s just done through obsessing over the gym. Now I’m more beautiful than I was a year ago (and clearly, a lot less modest).

Girlfriend. Uncheck. Law school has stolen this opportunity from me and in my last semester in undergrad, I was too drunk to see that it was a great opportunity to meet some great girls. Talk to me in a year.

Treat people with more respect. In general, I think people should be treated with respect… but when they earn it. There are so many people on this earth who are just not good people, and should not be respected (see “The Jersey Shore”). There’s one kind of person who I constantly come across who makes me sick to my stomach and I can never treat with respect: It is that person who clearly is inferior to everyone else but will make mean jokes or snide comments to put people down just to feel better about themselves. I “hate” this person. I guess in the past year, I have seen that not everyone deserves respect and respect is earned. I respect people who work hard, are respectful of others and who don’t take themselves too seriously. There are just too many people in this world who just aren’t good people and although you can act respectful towards them, you don’t have to respect them (big difference there). I think I’ve learned that strongly in the past year.

As for 2010 (do you say “two-thousand and ten” or “twenty ten”? I can’t decide which sounds cooler), I don’t want to make resolutions (well, now I’m fresh out of late December 2010 blog posts). I just want to be me (which means awesome). I want to keep sane, not take myself too seriously and work hard. I’m at a point in my life where I am me and if I’m not satisfied with it, I’m pretty screwed. Therefore, I just want to take all my experiences (i.e. working 14 hour days everyday all semester long) in stride and enjoy them. I really just want to enjoy the journey of law school and the people who are there with me for the ride, as well as people who have joined me on past journeys. I consider myself very lucky to be in the position I am in and want to continue never taking any of this journey for granted.

Ah, crap. I guess I just made a quasi-New Year’s resolution.


Mike’s Halloween History

October 28, 2009

Dammit, I have nothing new to say about Halloween (click here for 2008 and 2009 Mike’s thoughts on this god-sent amazing holiday… I think that line just gave away 2008 and 2009 Mike’s thoughts on it. Oh, well.) so I will give you a brief history of my past Halloween costumes:

1994 (the first grade): For some odd reason, I have been opposed to buying generic Halloween costumes my entire life . For instance, in the first grade, when everyone bought the same black ninja costumes, my mother made me an orange Crayola crayon costume (complete with pointy hat for the top of the crayon). Call it what you will. I call it original. And awesome. This started a long history of home-made costumes.

1997 (the fourth grade): I was my Martin Brodeur, goaltender of the New Jersey Devils, and my favorite athlete at the time (my costume did not include the part about him cheating on his wife with her sister). I wore my own goalie equipment (that excitingly will come out of retirement this Thanksgiving for the first time in 4.5 years), complete with my goalie mask (to hide my disapproval of the thirty other black ninjas in the class).

2001 (freshman year of high school): After realizing that middle school Mike was totally uncool for not trick or treating or dressing up (I think it had something to do with girls my age hadn’t found out about slutty costumes yet, or matured enough to fill slutty costumes properly), I sewed my own costume with a friend. We were Towelie from South Park. Granted, no one really appreciated it (“What are you a smurf?” “A towel that does what?” “Get off my lawn”) but I loved the costume. I still have it hanging in the basement of my house, where for some reason, it is still not appreciated (“Why does this towel have a face on it?”).

2004 (senior year of high school): This was a crowning moment for my friends and I, as we were Oompa Loompas, decked out in orange paint, green wigs, white overalls, and a certain creepiness that repelled all women. It was pretty classic nonetheless. We carried around a boombox playing the original Oompa Loompa songs on repeat (not to be confused with the songs in the Johnny Depp version that came out one year later). This kind of signaled a full circle type thing for my high school friends and I: our fifth grade play was Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory so this was an ode to that. Plus, who would turn down sweating off orange face paint onto people you don’t like?

2007 (junior year of college): This year was when I truly began to realize how awesome Halloween could be. For the first two years of college, I mainly stayed out of the spotlight with my Halloween costumes (mainly because I just wanted to be an anonymous spectator) but this year, I dressed up as one of my closest friends, mainly because he had some distinct character traits and lines that people would recognize and appreciate, but most importantly, I wanted to prove that I could be a better him than he was himself (that’s a tongue twister). I will not write what my actual goal was for the evening (inquire within) but I’m sure you could figure it out. However, for days after Halloween, I found myself finding Gold Bond in places no one should have it.

2008 (senior year of college): This year, I dressed up as Cartman (what can I say I love South Park). Here, I also made my own costume, as I saw a Cartman costume in the costume store but it was $80. Screw that. I think I want to bring up this Halloween mainly because of the absurdity of that Halloween night. At the local college bar we frequented a lot (including two weekends ago, which just ended with me waking up wondering why me and every one of my friends signed our bodies with permanent markers), AXE (yes, the body spray) hosted a Halloween event for the release of their newest spray, “Chocolate.” From context clues, I’m sure you guessed there would be a lot of chocolate products, and this just did not go well with the idea of having a couple hundred drunk college kids who were hungry. I woke up the next morning with my costume still on (including the pillow I put in my stomach to make myself Cartman sized… this probably was the greatest idea to sleep with though) and my shirt covered with chocolate (damn you fondu) that got all over my bed. I searched my pockets and found about 15 full-sized candy bars, pretty melted and gross. I have a lot of memories (and some fleeting ones) of this evening where I learned a valuable lesson: don’t be drunk and play around hot fondu.

As for 2009, I still have no idea what I’m going to be. For the past couple years I would watch one of my friends find and pay for a costume (i.e. the tooth fairy in 2007… still one of the bigger wastes of $50+) and suddenly I come up with a better idea. Unfortunately, he is in Washington, D.C. so I think I will take the next couple classes of Contracts (I can’t pay attention in that class anyway) to come up a with a (not-so) great plan. Results to follow soon.


My Thoughts On Valentine’s Day 2009

February 12, 2009

As you can tell below, I was quite an angry teenager (ah, teenage angst).  Looking back on it now, it is embarrassing to read.  I put in profanity just to show how angry I was (now I feel like profanity isn’t necessary and should be put in only to add to a story).  I was incredibly bitter.  At the time, I thought that this piece was clever, but now it just looks pathetic.  However, to battle the feeling of patheticness (I don’t think that’s a word, but go with me) let me give you some context to that very angry 19-year-old: I was coming out of an ugly break up and was not quite out of high school mode.  Let me just mention briefly that “high school mode” is incredibly unhealthy in regards to love, friendship, family or anything having to do with living a well-adjusted life (and I learned the hard way).  Anyway, 2007 Mike loved shock value, and that combined with my bitterness towards love created this monster of a human being.  In fact, I thought my blog would be based off shock value (whatever, I still like shock value a little bit), but instead I went a completely different route (I believe some people call it evolving as a human being or a writer… or maturity).

Anyway, I think my life has changed completely since then, and when I look back on that time period in my life, it looks more like a fiction novel than something that actually happened.  For this reason, I present to thoughts on Valentine’s Day by the happy, satisfied with life and the way things are going Mike…

Valentine’s Day sucks (I guess some things never change).  I say this for many reasons.  Sure, it’s on a Saturday night this year, meaning that alchohol can cure all angst towards this holiday, but the fact of the matter is, Valentine’s Day makes you reflect on your life.  Follow me here.

Situation one: you’re in a relationship (and I’m referring to a young adult-college-ish relationship because once you get to a certain point in a relationship or marriage Valentine’s Day is kind of cheapened).  Valentine’s Day now becomes the bar for which you measure your relationship.  For girls, this could mean one of two things: one, your boyfriend is good and he went all out; or two, your boyfriend is lazy and he sucks.  This could be interpreted in many ways.  Let’s look at the first situation: the guy goes all out.  Now the standard is set for the rest of the 364 days of the year.  And, as a male, we are screwed for those 364 days.  It’s just impossible to keep it up all year long (even A-Rod had days off… even when he was on steroids).  The second situation is stickier.  The guy fails the girl, so the girl begins to question the validity of the relationship.  Is that healthy?  No.  This will probably result in more problems for this couple in the future, just because of one stupid day.  Oh, and let me reiterate what Mike Circa 2007 said: girls don’t do shit for this “holiday.”  Period.

The other situation is if you are single.  Old Mike talked about us men watching basketball and girls going out together (and by the way, I still extrememly dislike (not hate) Sex and the City for this).  But, as the Christopher Columbus of Valentine’s Day, I have discovered another route that I have seen over the past two years.  First, both sexes start to think about where they have been and where they are going in life (sounds like a Dave Matthews song, which is why they suck).  You start to think if you have passed your prime with the opposite sex or if you will ever find a girlfriend or boyfriend.  First off, in my opinion get over yourself.  It’s just one stupid day, not the rest of your life.  Second, shut up.

Also, in addition to the Mike 2007 option, single girls and guys go either the depressed route or the rebellious (“screw Valentine’s Day”) route.  I have seen countless girls mope around in sweatpants and claim they are too busy for Valentine’s Day.  I also see an equal amount of girls get incredibly drunk and make bad life decisions.  All because you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day?  Seriously?  For guys you see a similar situation.  You will see more men at the gym on this day than probably any other day of the year.  They will also probably abuse alchohol and end up injuring themselves in an attempt to show how awesome they are.

So there you go.  Valentine’s Day continues to destroy society.  Good luck with the other 364 days of the year.


Why Mike (Circa 2007) Hates Valentine’s Day

February 12, 2009

This is a little something I wrote for Valentine’s Day 2007.  I will comment on this later and how my outlook has changed drastically since then.  In fact, some of this is actually embarrassing to read again.  But, anyway, here it is…

So I told you why I hate Christmas (see “Why I Hate Christmas”). Now I am going to tell you why I hate Valentine’s Day. It’s probably one of the most ridiculous holidays ever. Let’s think about this holiday logically for one second. Some asshole decided that there should be one day in the entire year when you celebrate love (as opposed to the rest of the days when you don’t give a flying fuck about your significant other). Now, I don’t know about you, but if I’m celebrating my love for my girl for one whole day of the year, it’s not a very good relationship (see “All of Mike Rosen’s relationships”). In my opinion, shouldn’t you celebrate your love for your girlfriend or boyfriend every day? I don’t know. Just a feeling I have.

Let us start our dissection of Valentine’s Day starting in the second grade. Everything prior to February 14th is grand. You finger paint, learn about Kenya and Japan, and eat cupcakes (trust me, I wasn’t fat until second grade—damn you Mrs. Amster, you sweet amazing teacher, for fattening me up). Then the terrible day comes when you have to go to Walgreen’s and buy those queer Valentine cards that say, “Bee my Valentine” with a fuckin bee on it (clever, right?). Then you question, “Do I give a card to everyone? What if I give a card to the hot girl and she doesn’t give me one back? Should I even give cards out?” You start to question your dignity, your self-respect. You start questioning whether hot girls give cards to the fat (and may I add brilliant) kid. Now what kind of social situation is this for a second grader? My god. I can’t even handle it now.

Fast forward to the present day. Valentine’s Day is a pressure packed situation still. You have two options: one, you are all alone and Valentine’s Day sucks. Two, you take out your loved one for a stressful night. I shall start with the lonely situation. If you are a guy, this is tough. You get home from a long day at work or school and realize that you are all alone on this fateful night. But you think to yourself, “Why should this night be different then any other night? (Passover-ish for all the Jews reading)” (See, “Mike’s Life”) So, to prove to yourself that you are truly a man, you pop open a beer and watch an old Knicks-Bulls game on ESPN Classic. Truly a testosterone filled evening, however, it is a tad lame. Now if you are the girl, you just don’t settle for a night at home. You go out with three of your best girl friends to dinner. And a fancy one at that. You sit with your girls and think you are “above” Valentine’s Day. You drink your red wine, gossip all night, and think you are soooo Sex and the City (fuck you Sarah Jessica Parker, you fuckin god forsaken whore. You have made mankind, and by mankind I mean us men, worse). But what you don’t realize it that every couple is looking at you and thinking how lame you are. This showing right here is the most obvious way to say, “I am single and I am not happy about it.” Enjoy your wine.

The other option is that you have a significant other. And although it might not be as estrogen filled as the girlie night or sad as beer and ESPN Classic man, it is much more stressful. From the perspective of the guy, this is one day that you do not look forward to. Your girl tells you she doesn’t want anything big (or maybe she says she doesn’t want to go out at all). But that bitch is a god damn liar. So, you’re ahead of the game here—you know she wants to go out. So you get reservations at the local semi-fancy restaurant. You buy the five dollar chocolate in the heart shaped box at CVS and a tacky card. You bring her to the restaurant and give her the shit you spent perfectly good money on that you could’ve spent on more manly things (i.e. beer, chicken, strippers). And you know what the ungrateful bitch says, “That’s so sweet of you.” In other words, it was a nice gesture but I wanted a more expensive gift. And in other words, you are not getting any tonight. And if you do, it will not be that good. From the girl’s perspective, you do jack shit. You expect an amazingly romantic night—something that you would see from the movie “The Notebook” (including making out in the rain and a dude with a beard to build you a house). Sorry woman, your man doesn’t have a beard and there is two-day-old snow on the ground and no chance of rain. But you still expect this bullshit. You expect your man to forget that he has balls for the night and be a romantic bitch. And then when it doesn’t happen, you tell your girlfriends, in another self proclaimed Sex and the City moment (see “What Poisons Women’s Minds”), how disappointed you were. Reality check—this doesn’t happen to anyone, and you are no one special.

So now you question what Mike is doing for Valentine’s Day. Well, first off he is single and apparently girls don’t really like him (fuckin women don’t see the greatness right in front of their faces). But I will be working all day in the government, trying to change the world, while you assholes waste your time (and speaking of wasting time, I can’t believe you are still reading this). I will then come home, cook myself some dinner and sleep. Sure, it may be a tad depressing, but hey, I’m not spending my time pretending I’m a whore from Sex and the City or spending money on a woman who thinks she is a whore from Sex and the City.

And yes, I got a card from the hot girl.