Well Iberian Week is off to a great start. I mean it sincerely when I say this is a truly unique place that would allow a farce of the Spanish Inquisition to go off without a hint of protest…one wonders whether other genocides could be tolerated in the same way. Well, maybe that’s the wrong way to look at it, as it was a beautifully organized event that raised a lot of money for worthy charities. And how about that paella? Bravo!

My meet-and-greet was a bit of a bust. I met one person, which was cool, but given some of the reactions I’ve been led to believe took place, I expected more concerned citizens. Guess it’s a good thing, ultimately, that people didn’t feel a pressing need to come down.

Finally, graduation trip….I’m having trouble gauging the interest. To me, the location is far secondary to the crowd, so I hope we are all able to get together and share one big trip together before we all head our separate ways. What’s the deal?

Good job tonight LVM, see you all at some Iberian food-eating event soon.

The madness continues. So many shout-outs/thank yous to give…so let’s start at the beginning:

THANK YOU to my whole class for choosing me as your graduation speaker. I’M SO FUCKING PSYCHED! I really really really am thrilled to have this awesome responsibility, and I promise not to let you down. Too much….

Next, hats off to the Villestock crew. Fuck. Amazing. From the barbecue to the sky tracer to the slip and slide to the band to the infamous cookies to the whole vibe, it was a truly heroic effort from the ever-competent ‘cerfers. Anyone who was there and most who weren’t know how good this night was. Thanks guys.

Finally, the Summer Ball. OK, so we couldn’t get as drunk as fast as we wanted. But the weather was perfect, the chateau was breathtaking, everyone looked FANTASTIC and the energy was high. I had a great time, from the walk in to the walk out (at 6:30 the next morning). I loved the fireworks, I loved the band (with all of its guest performers) and I fulfilled a life-long fantasy stage-diving and crowd surfing during “Sweet Child of Mine.” Cheesy? You bet. Memorable? Even more so. I hope we can keep that energy up until the *gasp* *choke* end.

Spring weather seems to finally have arrived for good, and the weight of rain and sweaters is lifting. See you all outside.

Another long break. It’s getting old. I know.

Last night’s Rock star party was a blast. But again (I know, I know, say something new) there were a lot of Rock stars missing. Driscoll? Lazaric? Taylor? Guy? The finger’s pointing at you (among others).

Two of the casualties of the party were my sunglasses and my cell phone. Both smashed. I managed to get the phone to work, even though the screen is non-functioning, so my numbers are copied and functional, but I’m getting more than a little frustrated with myself. So far, the list of casualties during my MBA are: one digital camera, dropped in the Andaman Sea (not by me, but still), one pair of sunglasses lost off a Jeep in India, my key-card for my Singapore flat left in a cab, one cell phone and one pair of sunglasses lost in South Africa, and now another phone and pair of sunglasses at LVM. Fuck! What is wrong with me??? It’s gotten to a ridiculous level…I think I need to try hypnotherapy. I heard from Brendan it’s very effective.

Another reason I’ve been lax writing here is that I’ve been working on my “audition” graduation speech. It’s really hard-so much pressure! As you know, I’ve spent the year observing and reflecting on our experience here together, and I would really love to try to encapsulate it and share that with you and your families on graduation day. That being said, no one person can perfectly represent everyone’s feelings about a crazy place like this, and so, even if I’m not selected, I would love for people to write in here and share some of their thoughts about their most salient feelings.

Finally, Christopher Angell interview watch: another day, another cosmetic story. So I went to their offices outside Paris to interview with the same woman who I bombed with the first time, and guess what? She was 45 minutes late. Again. Seriously. Amazing. That was the low point, however, and it was uphill from there. So….I don’t know. The process continues.

As I was writing this, I noticed I got an add from a July ’07 admit. Great! Welcome! I’m sure you will find this blog even more confusing and less relevant than the Decembers do, but please enjoy nonetheless.

I feel kind of bad. After my last post about the personal difficulties I’m anticipating when this ride finally stops, WAY too many people have been approaching me with such comments as “So, it’s almost over, huh?” I hope this is not my fault. Because it’s starting to drive me crazy. I’m wondering if my observation that many people have mentally already begun moving on from INSEAD is having a somewhat self-fulfilling effect. If so, fuck…I’m sorry.

The career hunt cloud that allegedly terrorized this campus for P4 has apparently lifted, but has been left in its place? Where’s the desperate energy to milk the last sweet drops of careless socializing and zealous interrogation about nothing in particular? Or where are the last minute probes about future opportunities: social, professional, and all in between? And if all this is still going on…..how about a phone call over here???

I remember my mother telling me about some INSEAD literature where a student described their first period here as “drinking out of a fire hydrant.” Cute metaphor, reasonably apt. What I see more and more (if I may be so bold as to carry on from a metaphor I have esteemed as “reasonably apt”) is that people have quite successfully divided that jet into lots of little streams, and picked their favorites/most necessary. Which is one of the lessons of this program for sure. I think we are all much better at either a) prioritizing or b) just doing a hell of a lot more. But I think it’s a good idea for people to go out and get a little taste of some of the neglected streams (I know, I’m completely abusing an already-shaky literary device here, but it’s too late to turn back now, so please just play along) and give them one last go. [Wow, I’m glad that’s over.]

So ok, if you have a job, what else is there for you here? I hope there’s a good answer. And if you’re still looking (or just don’t care) what else is there for you here? Basically, what are you going to miss in 6 months, what are you going to miss in five years, and what are you doing about it?

Comments appreciated.

First night back at LVM. Ah, the comforts of home. Very nice to be out with a bunch of people who I really missed being out with.

Going out definitely has a different feel to it though. There’s a bit more of a finality in the air, and as more and more people accept job offers and figure out their post-school plans, you can feel people already being pulled their separate ways.

The P3’s obviously have different things going, but all of their questions show that they are looking ahead to a time when my class will no longer be here, further emphasizing our looming exit. It is the way it is, and obviously for good reason, but departures are usually difficult, made more so by the number of people you are leaving. That will rank this high on the list of difficult departures. Every hour back in France I am reminded of another person I need to be ready to miss.

So, yeah, it was a ROCKIN party! LLLLLLL VVVVVVV MMMMMMM!
Seriously.

Wow. That was a long break. Sorry [in all modesty]. I couldn’t even begin to summarize it, but it was good. The awful flight I feared turned out to be completely different flights, and awful for entirely different reasons. The day I left, I spent 11 hours in the Singapore airport. I remember once having a fantasy about living in the Singapore airport. No longer.

I spent a good deal of time in South Africa. On the one hand, sort of a homecoming, and on the other, a class. A good mix, but hardly a restful break. Then again, which one has been?

I was really looking forward to coming back to France and to so many people I haven’t seen for two or four months. Everyone always said I’d miss the Asian efficiency, but I was thinking about springtime country life. When I got off the plane in de Gaulle, and saw that there was one immigration officer to service two full planeloads of people, it was like the record playing my happy French springtime music came to a scratching halt.

That being said, I’m thrilled to be back in the country, in people’s houses, and with all the people I started with and most of the new ones I’ve picked up along the way. Let the games begin.