Here's the thing. I've been meaning to come here for weeks now, because I haven't put into words the massive changes that have occurred since the last time I put (figurative) pen to (figurative) paper. I'm a college graduate now, and enjoying the terror of my 0L summer before 1L year hits like a tank that asks way too many questions. (If you get that joke, wahoo philosophy). I'm excited, scared, nervous, motivated and thrilled, and believe it or not, those are simultaneous and omnipresent. Summer is one of those fascinating times where everything stands still. Network television shows, despite making their living on the sexy and controversial, skip over the season that might have the most of both categories simply because the summer is a wild card - no one knows if people will actually watch or not; summer is just like that. For me, it is, as so often seems to be the case, a holding cell. I've been processed and received a permanent assignment, but I can't arrive for two months due to a pre-arranged schedule. I'm not sure why that morphed into a prison metaphor, so just pretend I'm talking about an extended hospital stay. (Huh?) But seriously, I am ready for whatever comes next. More on that later.

Here's what distracted me when I arrived at my homepage last week, ready to get these thoughts out: Xanga is shutting down. Like, shit guys - what the hell am I supposed to do? They can't afford to move to a new server, and the crowdhosting page has, predictably, plateaued. Even still, even if the money is raised, we'd be moving to The Website Formally Known as Xanga. I donated, and I may donate again if it suddenly gets moving again. But I can't help but find myself angry. Xanga is a free website, but I pay to use it - I purchase premium services so my page is free of advertisements and easy to navigate. I invested a portion of my wages into this website because of what it contains; that is, it has within its walls a strange work of performance art that represents the last 8+ years of my life. If I wanted some mundane cookie-cutter, made-in-China happy meal toy blog, I'd go get a tumblr or whatever else is in right now. This place is special not because it has any particular special qualities, but because it has a perverse simplicity. You still have the option to use the old homepage, which was buggy and troublesome eight years ago, or the new homepage, which represents (when I'm being very gracious) a tiny step in the right direction. This place is flawed, and that is what makes it feel right.

Dear Xanga: it didn't have to be like this. I pay money to you for a service - it's not my fault that you managed to be surprised by your own finances. I love this website, and I can't help but appreciate the time and effort you put into ensuring it functions. Much of what you do behind the scenes goes unrecognized, I'm sure, and for that you deserve to be commended. But you let me down. You let down the people who stayed here, who didn't leave when the new fads came and went, who became a part of something that was about community for some, individuality for some, personal expression for some, but passion for all. You let us down, and it's probably going to result in the site closing down. 

I don't know what I'll do with this content if that happens. I don't blog because I particularly care about sharing my thoughts or making an impact. I blog because this place is a strange little accessory to my mental outfit. (Shitty analogy; drink!) I don't want to migrate to a new site and backdate my posts, nor do I have any interest in starting over. I'll donate, I'll promote, and I'll work with you to fight and help keep this site alive. In return, I want users to be respected. This cannot happen again.

To close: I start law school in just over two months. I want to be a lawyer because I believe, as I always have, that every human being is entitled to a vigorous and ethical defense. Whether imparted by a Creator or engrained by a society, we have fundamental rights that cannot be taken from us. The right to a fair trial for offenses committed is important to our society on a basic level, and I have a passion for advocacy on behalf of those who may not otherwise be able to obtain it. I don't care about money or prestige; I want to make a difference, somewhere, somehow. Call me idealistic, and I'll thank you for the compliment. Call me naive, and  I'll agree with you. (Call me maybe, this is crazy). I haven't the slightest clue where I might be thrown next, but I'll take that chance. 

Hopefully, I'll get to share my journey through law school with you right here. If I can't, well, thanks for the ride.