It's fall of 2003. I am living in a cracker box apartment in Chicago's far north side with my roommate of going on three years Jinny, finishing up my four-year bachelor's in sociology in seven semesters. Between the two of us, we have a pathetic collection of dishes, tons of trashy sci-fi/fantasy novels (mostly mine) and romance paperbacks (mostly Jinny's) as well as two cars, Muppety action figures, one sense of direction, and very little furniture that didn't have a former owner or isn't made out of milk crates. As the semester goes on, I am applying to graduate programs across the midwest and learning a great deal about 1960s history, sociology, and journalism.