“‘Conservative rooms tended to be cleaner, more brightly lit, better organized, less cluttered, and also more conventional and ordinary in terms of decoration,’ Jost said during a panel discussion on “The Neuroscience of Elections and Human Decision-Making” at NYU, adding: ‘Conservatives’ rooms were rated by independent raters as better organized and tidier in general.’

“Specifically, individuals who reported a more conservative ideology also had bedrooms that contained more organizational and cleaning supplies, including calendars, postage stamps, ironing boards and laundry baskets. Liberals’ rooms on the other hand were marked by more clutter, including more CDs, a greater variety of CDs, a greater variety of books and more color in the room in general.”

Having read this, I popped in at my place of residence and took a few photos, hoping to gauge just how conservative my room actually is. It’s on like Donkey Kong, y’all. (Full disclosure: I believe photos make this blog, or any other personal blog about nine times better, so get ready for an image blast after this weekend. Hustler Editor Mike Warren and I are going on a journalism conference trip in New York this weekend. Good times.)

I maintain that I am a contradiction in terms. Calendars and order, say ye? Take this:

But does the Batman lamp cancel out the McCain sticker? What now, Jost? And here we have the J. Crew madras attack known as my comforter, but ha ha ha, we also have the Ed Hardy poster:

And finally, just to balance it all out we’ve got the three fine posters that hang on my wall:

While I may look somewhat bipolar, now, John Wayne watches over me every night. Does he do that for you, Jost?

That’s what I thought.

In the legitimate good times section, however, Saturday we beat Rice University to go 3-0 on the season. The game was solid city even I sat (stood) in between the Vandy Fanatics (the guys who paint themselves yellow) and the band, which is not really my favorite place to stand during games, but we were really, really close to the action. The D.J. Moore punt return to the one yard-line happened literally just in front of where my friend Dustin and I were standing in the aisle (we saw each other from afar, jumped up into the aisle to chat, which went something like “Yeah, the Morgan rooming situation is going well,” “Towers is actually going wel–GOOOOOOOOO” “WOOOOOOO” “YEAH.”)

Also this past weekend, we produced the first issue of the Torch, which involves copy editing and layout with Adobe InDesign from about 2pm Friday until roughly midnight for four of us. We always go to dinner somewhere, usually either Ted’s Montana Grill or Noshville (it’s a Kosher, Seinfeld-like diner that’s on meal money where you can get sweet, sweet grilled cheeses or omelets)–this time we went to Noshville (I had a grilled cheese with bacon, cheddar on wheat). Next weekend, my friend Mike, who’s the editor of the Hustler, and I are going to New York for a professional journalism course with the group that gives the Torch a grant each year, Collegiate Network. We’re both really pumped to go, should be a fun time.

Anyway, PAPER TIME. (Like HAMMER TIME, yet far less fun.)

“The concern is freshmen will be sucked into a life of booze and debauchery before they’ve even started class. This is a legitimate concern, but what sort of message does this policy send to our new students about Greek Life, drinking and personal responsibility? Apparently, the message is fraternities are the prime places to get drunk and freshmen cannot make the decision about having a responsible social life until after that first week of classes.

“Nevertheless, the policy stands, and it emboldens the university’s stance on eliminating the problems with underage drinking.”

I hardly think it’s a secret to say that, while the University would never condone underage drinking, their concern seems to lie primarily with the extreme: binge drinking. In practice, this means a variety of approaches to tackle the issue of binge drinking, while instituting rules on where alcohol can be (like, not in your freshman dorm, though some RAs enforce that far, far more strictly than others) and creating significant penalties for alcohol infractions. But, you know, if you get six thousand intelligent people together, they can probably find some loopholes, and administrators aren’t, like, lurking outside frat houses searching for freshmen.

And, in my estimation, the university atmosphere, particularly for freshmen, is a fairly safe environment for the sometimes very innocent mistake — students are on campus and not driving, a hospital is on campus, and many students are awfully perceptive. I mean, nay to binge drinking, but eighteen year-olds have been known to screw up occasionally.

There are plenty of people who don’t drink, a lot more than one might assume. Non-drinkers are certainly permitted out too, it’s not like their chained to Bible Study every weekend. The vaunted “peer pressure” is only there if you put it there; almost nobody will judge another person for either drinking or not drinking. Social worth is not traded purely in your interest in Jack Daniels — Vandy, despite some stereotypes, does not have some rigid Victorian-like social drinking code.

So, classes started, and I won’t bore you to death with that except to detail some cool stuff we’re doing in one English class. But, full disclosure: financial accounting, history of U.S. economics, “Revolutionary Europe: 1789-1820″ (history class), the “Culture of Modernism” (an English seminar), and 19th Cent. American Lit.

Now, I know English classes typically put people straight to sleep with all the intellectual myopia of what that damned Virginia Woolf meant when she used, like, the past participle instead of the present, but my 19th Cent. class is worth a hat tip. Prof. Kreyling has paired up an old seminal work of “American-ness” with a more recent cultural element to explore the nature of being American. Except he paired everything with awesome. A few examples:

• Moby-Dick with Ocean’s 11 (both the Rat Pack 1960 version and the George Clooney version)
• Little Women with Alien Resurrection (Aside: a fun game to play for the ladies, Which Little Woman Are You? Everybody identifies with one of them. Mine’s obviously Jo.)
• Narrative and Life of Frederick Douglass with [insert tiny conservative soul groaning, nodding in understanding] Dreams from My Father by Barack Obama
• Huck Finn with Lethal Weapon

Quality, gentle readers, quality. Of course, right now, we’re forging through Last of the Mohicans, which has offered up an entire world of dialogue that in no way resembles conversational English. Seriously, nobody has ever spoken so stiltedly.

In terms of the hot, hot nightlife that consumes my lifestyle, this weekend I saw Vicky Christina Barcelona with a buddy on Saturday, went to the grocery story (the Green Hills Kroger of Epic Greatness), ran in Centennial Park (it’s basically directly across from the southern most part of campus on West End and features a one-mile loop that I’ll run two or three times), and had a fun dinner at Ted’s Montana Grill (also on West End). Sunday involved a lot of Hustler production time — my fledgling career as the Hustler’s crack political reporter continued with a news story on reactions to Palin’s selection. Back in ye olde day, er, last semester, I was opinion editor so this objectivity thing’s a little different kind of game.

As you enter the room, you’ve got this — a great accent wall, four flat screens (a staple of press offices and newsrooms alike) four new iMacs for news, and to the right four new ones for design.

A little more perspective on the room. The photographers will principally be using the brand new iMacs against the wall (and the big grid thing in the upper right-hand is where we put all the back issues throughout the year). There’s a quotation from Edward R. Murrow on the wall, which we’ve been joking should be glow in the dark.

New couches! A big flat screen! Some kind of lame clocks! I cannot explain to you how big of a change this is — it’s like Sabrina, except Bill Holden wins in the end. And speaking of redesigned, definitely check out the new InsideVandy.com, powered by the Vanderbilt Hustler. It finally looks like a professional news site, busting with content and color. Anyway, we’ve had a good few days working on stuff in the newsroom, and two of my best friends on campus are moving in at the moment, so the good times will keep on coming.

I rather like the picture of all three of us (my brother, myself, and my mom — my dad was lurking around there somewhere). In Captiva, though, I got a good chance to play around with some long exposures, as I’m a big photo geek, so this was sort of thrilling for me. This was the neighbors’ dock:

And, of course, here’s a sunset because what trip to the beach is complete without a ubiquitous sunset photograph:

So, basically, now I’m just packing in a rush, buying new jeans, and insisting on Chesapeake Bagel Bakery for lunch (seriously, it’s quality and I pine for it when at school). Anyway, freshman year, I requested a single and lived in Kissam Quad. Quite honestly, as terrible as everybody makes it sound, it’s really not that bad. Old, home to some really terrible carpet/paint/tile sartorial selections, and a little moldy? Yes. But it’s not the seventh circle of hell or anything.

This past year, I lived in one of the new dorms on the Peabody Campus, Stambaugh, which faces the Commons building, and has the giant veranda/porch situation on one side. The two things that really stand out about that room are: how bright and clean it was, and how incredibly high the ceilings were. While I think all the freshmen having roommates will definitely liven their first few weeks up considerably, something about the old housing choices for freshmen really appealed to me as a prospective student. What cannot be called anything but spectacular, though, is the Commons building; beyond the very, very solid dining there, it was a great place to work and to feel like a part of a network of mutual friends. A lot of us referred to the dining hall, with all the oak, as Hogwarts (because we’re lame), but with everybody thrown in there together, at meals and from around 9pm to 1am with people studying and working Sunday through Wednesday especially (Thursday can be a lot lighter because people go out), it’s very casual but memorable way to see a lot of your friends on a daily basis.

This year, after a housing lottery process that felt a little bit like success meant communing with the devil, I have a single in Towers II. One of my best friends is two floors below me, and three friends are on my floor, so hopefully it will go swimmingly. Some of the housing rules changed (in previous years, academic standing, rather than true standing determined the number of points you had in the lottery), and there were fewer off campus exceptions granted, so many a junior are in singles this year. I’m definitely more central to main campus this year, which I appreciate — though, really, I actually like walking a lot. While some of the upperclass housing leaves a little to be desired, that so many of us are on campus really does set Vandy apart from many of our counterparts, and it definitely creates a much stronger focus on the campus and campus community, which I can certainly appreciate from a student media level, among others. Anyway, if there are any housing related questions, please feel free to throw them in the comments.

I’ll post a few taken with my Rebel later this week, which I can’t do right now since I (stupidly) left my card reader at home by accident. We’re staying on the bay side of the island, which is about a seven minute walk from the beach (…it’s a very thin barrier island on the Gulf Coast). My grandparents are rolling in from the Orlando area today, and we’re going fishing tomorrow and Friday with my uncle and cousins who live in Ft. Myers–so, fun times all around. I actually just went over and got a Diet Coke at my fav place on this island: The Island Store.

It features a sign like so “Need a penny? Take a penny. Need 2 pennies? Get a job.” So, clearly, quality. Anyway, that’s my week here, but either later today or tomorrow, I’m going to post about Housing, how it works, what’s good, my half-experience with the Commons, and so on.

The next morning, we toured the Pentagon, which was just not going to be interesting no matter what (all the cool stuff is far behind closed doors), but I had never been before. Later that afternoon, my friend Mike and I went to the counter-protest to MoveOn.org’s counter-protest to the House Republicans’…er…overall protest. Yeah, the District of Columbia’s slightly crazy these days. I didn’t deign to hold any posters (a lady does not picket — I’m kidding, ladies love to picket), but here’s Mike with a borrowed poster out in front of the Grant Memorial:

The next day (Wednesday), though, I had the privilege of being on the House floor for about an hour and a half, watching the Guerrilla Congress in action. Regardless of how one feels about the politics of the situation, or energy policy in general, the entire movement over the past week has been awfully unique. And, unlike the instant gratification of the cable news - internet era, the entire movement (while heavily aided by online efforts and the Twitter text-messaging revolution) has been behind closed doors in a lot of ways, without C-Span, without microphones, without cameras in the House chamber. I posted a fairly detailed description of my experience, but had a serious moment of doubt when I was unsure whether that was fair game, because I’ve seen so few reports of what’s actually going on within the House.

To cap off an already pretty great day, Mike and I then had dinner with a good friend of ours who graduated last year from Vanderbilt, and we had a super sweet media geek discussion over Chinese food. Tomorrow, I’m off to the Orlando area for my cousin’s wedding, then down to Southwest Florida for a week at the beach. Then, it’ll be a quick few days at home before I’m on I-81 going to Nashville for my junior year. Just for the hell of it, here’s the parting look I had this evening when leaving the RNC (straight ahead are the three House office buildings):

Definitely a good summer (and it’s not even over yet, ha!).

Boy scouts! All the Iowan Boy Scouts from the horrible tornado that hit their camp met President Bush this morning, and the boy who threw his body over the other kids to protect them received special recognition. When we were exiting the premises, they walked out in front of us and you could definitely tell they were pumped to be there.

Anyway, just to be clear, I plan on blogging in this space twice or thrice a week. Within one of those posts every week, I’ll pick a topic of general interest on campus (like Greek life or housing) and expound a bit on that, hopefully clear up some of the ol’ Vandy mystique that might surround the topic.

To put a less meta spin on this post, though, I am currently interning in the press office at the RNC (Republican National Committee, that is). There, I’m actually joined by two other Vandy undergrads (a Nashville native and a Tri Delt) out  of about forty-five interns. Meanwhile, of course, our nation’s glorious capital is bursting with Vandy students from all over the country interning on the Hill and elsewhere, with some pretty incredible opportunities — one, for instance, is at the online division of the Washington Post, and another had a byline on the third page of the Washington Examiner (a newspaper that’s a popular read on the Metro) this morning.

That sort of variety of summer experience was reinforced about a month ago, at an event for Washington area students and alumni with Chancellor Zeppos on the absolutely gorgeous terrace overlooking the Capitol at the brand new Newseum. I ran into several people I hadn’t even realized were in the city for the summer, all we’re doing exciting, interesting stuff — and I don’t think that was a coincidence. Although it was definitely a Washingtonian crowd, as my Georgian friend lamented and I loved, it was also Vandy to the core: a mix of sharp business and politics-focused discussion balanced with the casual charm of life outside work.

From what I’ve heard of the Vandy crowd in New York this summer (and seen during a visit to the city two weeks ago), ranging from Wall Street to publishing houses, they’ve had a similar summer existence — experiencing a city, and doing it accompanied by their friends from school.