Such a happy girl

Tough Love has returned to VH1.

Sunday nights.

Watch it.

You will thank me.

Wedding weekend is here

On Saturday, I stand up at L's wedding and give a toast in front of 400 people. You would think I would have prepared for this, right?

Oh wait, all three of you who read this have met me.

So obviously you know that I have not even come close to writing anything. Instead I've been taking care of important stuff like pedicures and picking out a dress for the rehearsal dinner. (To be fair, there's been some legitimate important stuff too...say, law school)

I'm kind of hoping that if I put off writing anything until Friday night, it will give me less time to be nervous. I'll let you know how that works out...

Fun with Baby J

The perk of being in Indy every weekend is that I get to see the nephews. Unfortunately, not as much of A, as he is in school now. But we still manage to squeeze in some Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii. And I get lots of quality time with the J-Bird. Here are some highlights:

J looking a little stunned -

After all no one was expecting this! (cough, Boilers beat OSU, cough)

(Please don't remind me that I had the "good sense" to skip this game and my father was the only one there to take this pic)

Finally, Baby J's first Halloween. Elvis has left the building!

Dolphins and Past Lives

When I was little, like 3-years-old, I climbed up into my parents' bed one morning and told my mom that "when I was big, I used to swim with dolphins and whales." She must have figured I'd had a weird dream. But a few days went by and I kept telling her the same thing. I kept trying to explain to her that it wasn't a dream or a story, but I just knew I used to be with the dolphins when I was big. I think it started to wig her out. No wonder, I was probably starting to sound like one of those creepy movie kids. But apparently I got over the whole "when I was big" thing and no longer freaked out my mother. Though it obviously stuck with her enough that she asked a psychic about it a few years ago* - who, btw, said that I was channeling a past life (apparently kids are good at that) and that I totally did swim with the whales and dolphins. I'm just sayin...

Anyway...so growing up we took a lot of family vacations to Florida (18 hours in a van, oh the memories). To get to the island, we had to cross this cute toll bridge; my favorite thing about driving over the bridge was looking out for dolphins. And I almost always found at least one. When I was little it seemed like they were there just for me, to welcome me to the island. (Because duh, they totally remembered me from back in the day, obvi.)

I told you that to tell you this: I just read this great article about intelligence and socialization in dolphins. It has some really fun stuff - apparently dolphins totally watch and understand television. Who knew? And they tend to act like "boisterous teenage boys." TV and boys? No wonder I like them!

I especially love this story about a dolphin who I'm pretty sure is smarter than me.

One day, when a gull flew into her pool, she grabbed it, waited for the trainers and then gave it to them. It was a large bird and so the trainers gave her lots of fish. This seemed to give Kelly a new idea. The next time she was fed, instead of eating the last fish, she took it to the bottom of the pool and hid it under the rock where she had been hiding the paper. When no trainers were present, she brought the fish to the surface and used it to lure the gulls, which she would catch to get even more fish. After mastering this lucrative strategy, she taught her calf, who taught other calves, and so gull-baiting has become a hot game among the dolphins.

No real point to this. After a rough few weeks, it was just nice to stumble upon a fun story that reminded me of being a kid again.

*My mom went back to the psychic this year. She said that I'd get married and have love and money. My Magic8 Ball, on the other hand, says "OUTLOOK HAZY"

I know, I know...

I am a bad blogger. Law school, family fun, and wedding-related events have totally taken over my life.

First, they tried to tell me that 3L would bore me to death. Well, yes, that is true. But it is also still working me to death, which was supposed to be over after 2L. But I had the bright idea to participate in a clinic this year...it is currently the only thing standing in between me and my fall break. I'm sure you can guess how happy I am about that. And don't even get me started on the class that made me read un-translated French as part of an assignment. Hello, I'm in law school? The last time I spoke French was when I was a drunk 18-year-old happily babbling to my French-Canadian new bff. (True story, I told him that I didn't speak French and therefore didn't understand a word he was saying and also I was really drunk and did I mention I don't speak French...in French.)

Second, no one bothered to tell me how much family fun I would be having this semester. And in case you didn't catch the sarcasm the first time around, let me clear: family and fun, not so much. Don't get me wrong, you know how much I adore my family. But honestly, I am averaging at least one trip to Indy per week right now. (In one seven day period, I made the round trip three times.... which really cut into my TiVo time.) Not to mention that the most recent trip involved a) countless games of Uno with the OG nephew b) soccer mom-ing the nuvo nephew around all day in the SUV c) picking up a certain relative from jail, and d) the entire immediate family attending a wedding together - from which we had to be driven home by a shuttle because no one was sober...(ok, so that was legitimately fun).

Finally, speaking of weddings...I adore my friends and I'm so happy they are getting married. But can I please have my weekends back??? Even people who hardly know me have started to comment on how often I am at wedding events. The real hustle of this is that I'm afraid it's just beginning. I'm pretty much just blocking off every Memorial and Labor Day weekend for the next four years, as those seem to be hot wedding weekends. And then you throw in bachelorette parties, showers, more showers, and miscellaneous other activities...the schedule is pretty much booked until mid-2010.

Anyway, now that I have a full week off of class I promise I will try to be better about updating. Not like anyone actually knows this exists anyway! (Hi A, M, and J!!)

My love for Essie knows no bounds

So I have crossed a new line in my nail polish obsession. I have actually hunted down and purchased nail polish online. What caused this, you may ask?

Essie Greenport. Tell me this is not the most amazing color ever?

Seriously, I searched all over Indianapolis for this color. It was one of three colors in a collection - I love the other two, which are fabulous shades of blue. In fact, I'm so in love with this one that I am totally wearing it on my toes when - if - I ever get married!

Greenport, however, was nowhere to be found.

So after weeks of craving nail polish (I mean, usually the only thing I crave are Twix and booze!), I finally caved and found it on Amazon.

While I was at it, I figured I couldn't just stop at one. Hence...

Essie has a new top coat called Matte About You. Basically it takes any color you use and gives it a matte finish. I know, matte nail polish sounds weird (and my mother will surely hate it), but these pictures are amazing! I am really excited to try it, I'm thinking matte gray and browns for fall.

Anyway, fingers crossed that they get delivered before I leave on Thursday. Green nail polish is totally wedding-appropriate, right? No? Ok fine, I'll stick with boring Ballet Slippers. But I'm not happy about it.

World Domination? There's an app for that...

M: It's ok, J and I have iPhones. We could rule the world.

A Belated Introduction

My new(ish) nephew: Baby J.

Yes, he's already 6 months old. Clearly, I slack.

And yes, he's only 6 months old. Clearly, he's giant.

Oh yes, and he's also the world's smallest hipster.

Oh. Hey, Blog. How's it Going?

I’m totally one of those awful guys from He’s Just Not That Into You. I’m all like “ohh, Blog…she’s interesting, I like her” and I’m all into it for, like, a month. And then what happens? I pull a total disappearing dude move. No calls? No emails? Not even a text? Bad B. But then, just when she’s sure she’ll never hear from me again…yup. I’m baaaack!

(BTW I promise that unlike disappearing dude, my return will not consist solely of 3AM texts reading “hey, you still up?” or “I’m in town, we should get together”)

PS – Yes, I’m aware that this is a sucky comparison. Just roll with it, I promise to improve with time.

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).