Finished.

Well, I'm a 3L now.

I went out and bought new clothes today with the girlfriend. New clothes for my new life as a law firm foot soldier.

While I was at the mall, I found myself searching for the "perfect" pair of flat front khakis (I don't like pleats), and agonizing over what brand of collared shirt to wear that would go with my charcoal gray pinstripe pants... and I thought "How in the hell did it come to this???" Seriously. In high school I was the kid with the black NIN t-shirt, the combat boots, and the field jacket. I wore a bullet necklace and had long hair.

Now I'm sitting in the Men's section of a department store, attempting to figure out if a paisley tie would be "too seditious," and whether or not the belt I've chosen matches the reddish tone of my brown shoes.

I guess whatever vestiges of youthful rebellion that existed in my soul are now dead. Maybe they weren't even there... maybe it was just an act the entire time. Maybe the disaffected, disillusioned youth has become so institutionalized that it's just another facet of mainstream society... just a childish cry that, far from bringing fear into the hearts of those associated with the establishment, simply inspires a sense of nostalgia for their own misguided youths.

However, as I look down the barrel of a very profitable Summer, I can say one thing, one of the dead heroes is right: Teenage angst has paid off well.