Strict Scrutiny: The Dating Game

So I'm having a Carrie Bradshaw moment ("I began to wonder...") and felt the need to write about "dating." I promise not to do this too often, as there is only so much that can be said. But bear with me this time and I promise I will get it out of my system...

As most single girls can attest, by the time you reach your mid-20's...oh my God, I literally just remembered that I am 25. My birthday was 5 months ago, and I had actually forgotten I was this old. How can this be possible? Law school is destroying my sanity. (Also, if I was still 24 I was going to try to claim early-20's. Denial is a powerful cocktail, kids. Especially when mixed with Myers rum and a Tyenol PM, as mine is soon to be.)

Ok, anyway, back to my Carrie Bradshaw intro: mid-20's, single girls. Likely, by this point you have run up a decent tally of boys. (They are all boys. Even the ones who've hit 30.) But lately it seems like each one I meet is a new and less-improved version of the last. So from now on, it is time to start applying strict scrutiny as the standard of review for all guys who enter my life. Granted, I'm not sure what constitutes a "compelling" interest. But I can certainly name a few examples of what is not compelling. In no particular order...

• If you are engaged.
• If you are married. Seriously, 6 months is still newlywed. Go home to your wife.
• If you tell me you're getting back together with your quasi-lesbian ex from back home.
• If you tell me you're getting back together with your quasi-lesbian ex from back home, but actually get with a girl in my class. Reminder: I passed the LSAT - I will solve this logic problem.
• If your nickname involves a food item (or a large, if cuddly bear...you know who you are.)
• If your pick up line is "I hate you for being a Republican, but it's so hot." If my political views are offensive to you, why are you hitting on me?
• If your pick up line references Obama, Sarah Palin, or Joe the Plumber. Find new talking points.
• If you have a tattoo of a children's toy from the 80s. Honestly, we get it - you're never going to grow up.
• If you listen to gangsta rap. You will never have street cred. Let the dream die.
• If your Facebook profile has quotes from any of the following: Learned Hand, Richard Posner, your professor, case law, lame songs, pretentious authors, pretentious poets, pretentious hipsters.
• If you ride a motorcycle. Though really this is just my attempt to end my adolescent bad boy fixation. (Please see below)
• If you are wearing a popped collar and a Croakie. I know, coming from me this may sound surprising. But let me be clear: I condone, even encourage, the latter and I may make exceptions for the former.* But in combination, no. Just no.
• If your idea of a date starts with a text message at midnight. We all know what that is, and the word "date" is not involved.
• For that matter, if all contact comes in the form of 160 characters or less? Just dial the number and hit the green button, it's not that hard, guys.
• If you wear CZ earrings. I know this trend has pretty much disappeared, but I think we all need to remember our history, lest we be doomed to repeat it.
• If you are my height barefoot...grow four inches and then return. Because I am never barefoot. (But let's be honest, I have never and will never stick to this. I'm just aspiring to find one guy over six feet tall - a girl can dream right?)

*For instance, after 10 PM; while wearing boat shoes on a boat; at the horse races; while fist pumping at the Tombs; if the Georgetown night gets extra yuppy; if multiple RBVs are involved; while mimosas are being served to ugly people on the deck of Old Glory; if the Polo is not already pink (or an equally over-the-top pastel).

So much for the liberal youth

Word on the street is that the preschool crowd is coming out in support of John McCain. Well, at least amongst the 4-5 year-old demographic. No word yet on the crucial 2-3 year-old vote.

An email from my brother, talking about his 4 year-old son:

"At preschool they vote on ice cream, vanilla beat out chocolate and strawberry. He then told us that one of the president guys is bad and steals money. He said Connor told him. We asked if it was McCain or Obama. He said it was Obama. We asked him how Connor knew and he said his dad told him."

Here's hoping ACORN got Connor registered...

Jen Lancaster

I am in love. No, not a girl-crush. This time it's for real. My friend JB, who has impeccable taste in literature (not to mention handbags), introduced me to Jen Lancaster. She too was a sorority girl at my wonderful alma mater (Go Boilers!), so I had a feeling we could be onto something good here. But there, on page two. That was it. She had me at Veronica Mars. Seriously, a woman who references my favorite girl detective AND makes fun of Paris Hilton?? In the first two pages!? PLUS, she uses the type of witty faux-footnotes to which I have always aspired but which Blogger has foiled time and again.

So I am now spreading the gospel. Bitter is the New Black; Bright Lights, Big Ass; Such a Pretty Fat. Go buy any or all immediately. You will not regret it.

Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?

I am developmentally stunted. They spent years telling us how advanced and fabulous we were in TAG class, but they left me utterly unprepared and disadvantaged in one key area: boys.

Seriously, put a bunch of nerdy kids together all day, every day throughout their formative years and they are bound to end up a bit retarded about the opposite sex. For example: in fifth grade, a girl in our class wrote a fake love letter and signed it with the name of a boy in our class. A boy who walked straight into high school and straight out of the closet.

So anyway, I left grade school behind years again (although law school doesn't seem to realize this), but I am just now realizing how behind I am.

Case in point: I keep falling for bad boys. This is the same fixation that every other girl got out of her system at age 15...except me. And it's not just any bad boy, but THE most cliche of all bad boys. You know, the one in the leather jacket, smoking a cigarette and leaning against his motorcycle.

I met one the other night. He started talking about his bike and I practically squealed. "Oh my god, I can't believe you ride a motorcycle! [batting eyelashes] Isn't it dangerous?? [touching arm]" (Answer: yes, just ask his busted knee.) You could practically hear the Grease soundtrack start playing.

Luckily (yeah, luckily) my memory is pretty spotty by this point, so the rest of the embarrassing details are lost in a haze of High Life and hormones. Of course, had this actually been high school we would have made out under the bleachers and I would be home by curfew. Instead, I woke up the next morning with various items of leather and motorcycle boots strewn across my floor and a hell of a hangover...

I blame TAG.

(Also, shh, don't tell my parents.)

Praying to the Tivo gods

So I left for a week at home and didn't even think to check my TiVo before I left. Luckily (yeah, luckily!), TiVo is an amazing creation and didn't screw up. But it totally reminds me of a great scene from How I Met Your Mother - which I thought deserved to be Googled and copied verbatim for your enjoyment:

"Almighty TiVo, we thank you for all the gifts you have given us. The power to freeze live TV to go take a leak is nothing short of god-like. And let's not forget fast-forwarding through commercials. It seems greedy to ask anything more from you, O Magic Box, but if you malfunction and miss the Super Bowl, we will destroy you in the alley with baseball bats."

Anyway, back to my TiVo's awesomeness...I returned today and found myself with 30 hours of recorded shows to catch up on. (Granted, there's about 10 hours of House re-runs that will probably get skipped.)

So instead of going out tonight I am vegged on the couch watching The Ex List, which is totally my new fall crush. Elizabeth Reaser is super cute - and I was not sold on her at first because I totally hated Ava/Rebecca and her stupid plotline on Grey's. Seriously, when she had a meltdown and slit her wrists I actually cheered at the TV. But the show is adorable, plus I think we can all relate to having some interesting characters in our past.

Next up in the queue...Rock of Love Charm School. Will drunk strippers be as entertaining without Bret Michaels and his horrible hair extensions? I'll let ya know.

*UPDATE* OMG!! They are drunker and strippier than ever and SO much more awesome without Bret Michaels. Seriously, the most horrifyingly entertaining show ever created, it is a MUST watch. VH1 people, check it out.

Ooh Sarah-cuda

I've been catching some flak from my dear friends on the other side of the aisle for going to the Sarah Palin rally last week - and for leaving with a total girl-crush on her. So in response I am going to ignore all arguments of political merit and instead focus on the following:

1. She is so gorgeous in person - and so teeny tiny!
2. She has more energy on this campaign than staff who are half her age.
3. She has awesome clothes. I was totally coveting her jacket.
4. She's a hockey mom. We heart our hockey moms.
5. She's a total rock star.

And if you still don't believe me, I think this says it all:

Advise & Concede...

My friend E's advice for my final today? "Just concede."

"Just walk in, sit down and write 'I concede. See you next semester.'"

I think that would put me in the record books right next to the kid from our class who freaked out in the middle of finals and just walked out. Of course the 3L who shot up his casebooks last year still trumps.

Omigod you guys

I'm sitting in Starbucks studying for my final this afternoon and figured what would be more appropriate study music than the soundtrack to Legally Blonde?? ("Law school is for boring, ugly, serious people - and you, button, are none of those.")

I'm feeling slightly guilty because I'm skipping class right now - I walked in and turned in my homework and left to go to my locker. I had every intention of going back, but then I realized my Professor wasn't there and my homework counts for attendance...so I figured it's a better use of my time to get in a few more hours with adjudicatory hearings and formal rulemaking!

Of course, since I am posting this I obviously got sidetracked. (Seriously, someone put me on Adderall.) Anyway, I swear it's not my fault - there was this guy in Starbucks who looked just like Rob Lowe. A younger, less Botoxed/Ken-doll version of Rob Lowe that is. Seriously, probably the best looking man I've ever seen in this town. So of course he was wearing a wedding band. That really is the hustle.

Ok, back to the books now. Here's hoping I'll be the shark, not the chum.

xoxo,

Your Legally Non-Blonde

PS - Fall Break is around the corner, at which time I hope to actually have interesting things to write about!

"IDK, my BFF CWA?"

You remember that cell phone commercial with the little girl and the grandma who spoke in texts? Thanks to Environmental Law, that has totally become my life - but not nearly as entertaining.

This is a for real excerpt from my class notes today (as if I could make this sh*t up)

• By 1977 - BPT
• By 1983 - BCT for conv; BAT(EA) for toxic
• Existing sources: PSES - BAT
• New sources: PSNS - BADT
• FDF
• BEJ standards
• POTWs
• Stormwater - BMPs
  

Yeah I have no idea what it means either. But thanks to all of that we can swim in the Potomac (though I can't say I'd recommend it...)

So this is new.

So I'm painting my nails and pretending to study for my final and watching The Biggest Loser. Yes, I watch terrible TV. No, I'm not ashamed to admit it. If I knew how to make footnotes, I would have put one right there and given you a "See also Rock of Love Charm School, ANTM, Road Rules/Real World The Challenge"...and that's just the reality shows. But I don't know how to make footnotes - which means it's probably a good thing I'm not on Law Journal. 

Anyway, back to the point: I'm procrastinating and my friend M texts to tell me she's starting a blog. And since I seem to have no shortage of drama in my life, I figured I might as well go all Gossip Girl and put it in a blog right? So here it is!

xoxo,

B

(Yes, I totally just said that!)