Friday, September 7, 2007

L-Date

I was pretty fortunate to enter law school with an abundance of advice from people who had gone through the torture and survived to tell tales. Regardless, I was pretty shocked to realize that not ONLY did the amount of work sucked, but apparently higher education was synonymous with high school education.

Now, my parents - fearing for my education and inherently knowing how boy crazy I was - put me into an all girls Catholic high school. Life there was ridiculously drama free and comfortable. So, imagine my discomfort, when its the end of my third week of school (4th week if you count orientation) and my fellow colleagues mention how high school it is that my newfound group of friends are starting to "court" each other.

Yes, I said it. Court. Gross.

People, how many times do I have to tell you: Law school isn't your personal dating service. I am aware of those couples that have met and fell in love in law school and are married with a million children and more grandchildren and want to spend the rest of their lives together, blah blah blah. I don't know about you, but I went to law school to ... I don't know... some day become a lawyer. Not find my future husband. If I knew I was spending $150K on that, then I would have just hired my own personal male prostitute and called it a day.

Why I think dating your classmate is a bad idea:

1.) In my recent experience, people in my class are honestly starting to date. Not just "hook up" like the culture is back in undergrad. Like go on dates and call each other and other time consuming that budding couples do. Now I don't know about you, but WHERE are you finding the time for this? I barely have time to freaking write this blog entry. You must be a genius because I definitely don't understand what I'm studying and I have a feeling that taking the time to bat my eyelashes at the guy i'm hoping will asking me out will not help me understand the material any more than it would be to sleep with the book under my pillow.

2.) It has also been ingrained in me that in order to get a good job after graduation, you have to do well. Well, law school is competitive. For some ungodly reason, law schools grade on a curve and only allot a certain amount of A's, B's, C's etc. per year. Personally, I think it's a ploy to make you pay for a therapist after you get your first semester grades. Even so, you are COMPETING for the top grades in your class. That means, while you're playing footsies under the library desk, you fail to recognize that statistically one of you will be getting that coveted high grade of a "B" in Civil Procedure. Either you're looking at the end of the semester with some serious blinders or this truly is a brilliant ploy to sabatoge your potential significant other.

3.) $$$$. Like all new couples, you want to do things together. Like eat out, go to movies, perhaps take weekend trips and buy nice things for each other. I hope you realize that if you end up marrying your significant other that your relationship has officially gained interest in the past 3 years. I don't think the school accounted the aforementioned activities in "extra living expenses."


Disclaimer: I completely understand that most people in law school will become close thanks to the fact that law school is ostensibly a cult. I know that with my new group of friends we're always planning to do something together... after spending 9-5 classes together everyday. It's almost like we never get sick of each other. Scary, right? So, it's not out of the realm of possibility for two people of the opposite sex who happen to spend a lot of time together to find their way to each other. But I mean really? Must you subject others to your lovey dovey flirting during football? Lunch? I mean come on. I'm halfway through my sandwich before I give up eating because the goo goo eyes make me want to goo goo into your lunch bag.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Resistance is Futile.

I can't decide if the next 4 words are something to be proud of: I'm becoming "that girl".

Now, in this day and age (and of course in my judgmental mind), "that girl" means a lot of things. There's "that girl" in my class who uses a fake English accent to speak even though she was abroad for like a hot second. You're from California, lady, get over it. There's "that girl" who (still) gets on my nerves because I truly believe she was trying to hook up with everyone in our class. (You're still a whore.) There's "that girl" who acts like she's entitled to the best grades because she's the shotgunner. You know. The one who always has her hand up. God. Shut up already, not even the Professor will call on you.

Thankfully, I'm not (hopefully) becoming any of the above. It doesn't alleviate my fear of becoming that person who leaves the place she used to call home (DC) and moves somewhere new kicking and screaming only to become a completely acclimated clone of her surrounding people. Back in DC, simple things (haha) like politics and CNN and Happy Hour in Dupont Circle are what interested me. Meeting people on my kickball team who had dreams and ambitions and really cool jobs are what interested me. Making my ex roommate put on my make up because I was too lazy and horrible at it, was my way of "getting ready" to go out.

Now? I spend an hour getting ready for class. AN HOUR. Why? I don't know. It's sick and twisted. I spend even longer getting ready to go out. Jesus Christ, I spend time getting ready to go to the effing gym!

I'm still interested in politics but I haven't even picked up a newspaper since I've moved. Drinking in moderation has lost its appeal and now when I drink, it's to get d-r-u-n-k because I have so limited time to do so.

Instead i'm even more so obsessed with my body image (which, let me tell you, is GREAT for my self esteem) and I'd rather watch "the Hills" than CNN. And i'm starting to think that i'm experiencing the high school experience my public co-ed school counterparts experienced when I was in high school. Am I totally regressing to the age of 16? Is that possible considering that I didn't go to my local high school and was able to experience all women's education? Should I let it go and just bask in it? I mean is this my subconscious way of rewarding myself for reading 200 pages a week? Am I going to turn into a vapid valley girl?

All I ask is that the people of DC take pity on me when I come to visit. I'm trying to resist the urges to fully acclimate (mind you, I haven't gone surfing just yet - and really, everyone I know here surfs. No, really.) but if I come back to DC with blond hair and fake boobs, I will totally be judging myself.


And don't deny it, you will be too.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Bite the hand that feeds you?

Because I didn't have cable hooked up for a long time, I found myself well acquainted with my roommate's entire collection of Sex and the City. In the era of Housewives, Greys and Bravo TV, I found it refreshing to watch a show that originated blatant hookups, chicks before dicks and complicated relationships. Never have I ever thought I would actually be relating to it.

There are times where I feel like Carrie. She has a Mr. Big who she's been in a complicated, back and forth relationship with for 6 years. She always feels second best because he can't commit to her and he has a problem saying no to other needy girls. However, she loves him and doesn't know how to let that go. They remain good friends and more than that off and on. She dates other men and can't commit to them even though Big commits to other women over her and causes her chase him all the time. But in the end, she ends up with him because he rescues her from a dreadful relationship in Paris after he realizes that she will always be there to catch him when he falls blah blah blah. And they have a fabulous life. Sigh.

Now, I'm not one to talk about personal business here but let's focus on the having a problem saying "no" to other needy girls. Let's say, there is a boy and a girl who are/were classmates. I'll keep the code name Boy for boy but let's call girl: bitchface who needs liposuction.

Ok so bitchface has been nothing but a piece of shit bloodsucking whore who desperately wants Boy to be her Boyfriend. Now, this bitch used Boy to do her every whim, called him whenever HE WAS IN BED WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND at 2am because she needed someone to cry to, and constantly tried to make him see that she was much better than what he had. All the while, she wanted him to think she was still better than him by making him feel bad for receiving a high honor that she thought she deserved. Ahh but I digress.

Apparently, last weekend Boy and Bitchface had a little makeout session much to this writer's chagrin. And the little fat heifer bit him. YES, she BIT him. Now, I can't tell if this is some sort of poetic justice: Newsflash to boy - if she's going to bite your lip, imagine what else could PAINFULLY HAPPEN with that mouth in other places. I mean, bitch drew blood for the love of God. Ok, so I could be a little harsh because I'm biased and this bitch has been the bane of my existence for over a year, BUT I mean, come on. YOU BIT HIM. And I'm sure you're going to go running to him crying about how sorry you are and how you're going to profess your undying love for him or some bullshit like that but let's be honest, you did it for a reason. Whether it be subconscious or not, you did it for a reason. And maybe this writer should be mad at Boy. But I've learned to be patient. He may always choose to take care of her business over mine. He may not. He may have facebook pictures with her looking like a couple. Or he may realize (finally) that she's CRAZY and untag them because you are who your friends are. Either way, I guess I'll have to wait until she bites... down there for him to see that she will always bite the hand that feeds her.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Michael Vick v. Alberto Gonzales

Yesterday, I received a text message at 5:30am PST. In the glare of my phone, the text "the ag resigned" immediately woke me out of my deep slumber. I jumped out of bed to turn on the news. Tidbits on CNN were showing the Main Justice Building followed by copious amounts of commercials. Frustrated, I turned to the local news.

Does anyone in Orange County know who Alberto Gonzales is/was? Apparently not. The local channels have their weather girls in evening gowns and the big story of the morning was not the resignation of the most contested U.S. Attorney General in recent history but on diet foods. DIET FOODS IN THE SUPERMARKET. Really? Really?

Flipping back to CNN, I forlornly tried to find anything that would show something about good old Al. At least it got some substantial press time from 6-8am PST. There were some good interviews with the head of the Judiciary Committee as well as most of the Senators that gave Gonzo some good flak for his testimonies in the past few months.

Then for the rest of the day, it was all about Michael Vick and his puppy killing ways. Ok, ok. I understand, puppy killers = NOT GOOD PEOPLE. But the ATTORNEY GENERAL resigned. Another vacancy in the Bush Cabinet! His loyal followers are starting to drop like flies and no one cares! Maybe I'm just pissed because I wanted to be there when it happened. Maybe we would have gotten a day off? Oh right. Every day is a day off for me these days. Or not. I'd rather be paid right now as opposed to being a poor law student who lives in an area where you have to be all done up to give a weather report. (Sorry guys, contrary to popular belief, the weather girls here don't wear bikinis. I repeat, they do not wear bikinis.)

I guess I should be happy that at least it was about Vick and what a horrible person he is for killing 6-8 dogs and not about Lindsay Lohan back in rehab or some shit like that. 6-8 dogs! Ugh. I think I might just throw up.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

I survived my first week and all I got was Pinkeye.

Yup, that's right. Pinkeye. Now, first of all, who gets pinkeye over the age of 13?!?!?

I pray that this is the icing on the cake of unfortunate events that lead me to the end of my first week of law school.

1.) DOJ still hasn't paid me. Thank God I'm learning how to sue the Government. I'll get stuck in red tape and tons of papers, never be able to work the DOJ ever again, spend a ton of money on litigation and all because Human Resources is retarded. Plain and simple. RETARDED.

2.) My lenders have decided to move at a glacial place in disbursing my loans. After calling and checking every day, apparently the stress of everything that's gone on took its toll on Friday and I burst into tears at the financial aid office - babbling something about not being able to eat. Blah blah blah. Yes, I am totally judging myself.

3.) Dell Computer still hasn't even BEGUN to send my stupid laptop to me. And of course, I need it for my Legal Writing course since we have to buy E-Books now. Whatever happened to good old fashioned textbooks??? At least I got a free printer out of Dell. I still have half a mind to fly to whatever third world country they outsource their customer care providers from and seriously wringing his or her neck.

4.) I was switched in and out of sections on the first day. Of COURSE my schedule would be changed around last minute. Why WOULDN'T that happen? Forget that all the books I bought were already marked up. Forget that I did all the HW for the first day. And of course, after talking to the Dean of Student Affairs and going to all the wrong classes the first day, this switch was in error. Ahhh red tape, I swim in you.

5.) I have pinkeye. I mean, really? It's not enough that the aforementioned are still clouding up my mind. But I have to wake up with my eyes swollen shut. Nevermind that I have at least 50 pages of reading a night, how the hell am I supposed to put make up on? You act like I can leave the house without makeup. This is Orange County for the love of God. I'm lucky I even got into the bars here with my real boobs. (Which mind you are fantastic on the East Coast but less than average here in the OC.)


Seriously, where am I?

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Orientation

Now, for my own sake, I was told to give people a chance. (You know who you are.) Done and done.

It's only my 4th day of orientation and I feel like I've been here for 3 weeks! The amount of forced socializing is overflowing and of course, you have to be nice to your fellow colleagues because you don't want to be coined as that "pretentious bitch."

I am that pretentious bitch. Or maybe just cynical. Or maybe I'm just not meant to be in the OC. Let me break it down for you.

A.) Apparently, it is customary to show up on your first day of Orientation in a dress that could be almost considered ballroom formal. (Note this makes you an attention WHORE). See, the trick is to make sure you show enough fake cleavage and that the fabric clings to your ass. And believe me, after being here for a week and a half I can officially spot fake tits. They're everywhere!

B.) It is also customary to get a bunch of your fellow guy classmate's numbers and text them constantly in hopes to get laid. You know, like casting a wide fishing net and praying you get a piece of ass, er, trout. Now, I am all about a woman's right to "spit game" to whomever she pleases to. But really, this is law school, not an effing dating service. This makes you a WHORE.

C.) The aforementioned is also true in the reverse. Newsflash, penis or not, this still makes you a WHORE.

D.) Sometimes, in order to be well liked in law school, you have to keep your mouth shut. It's really sad when you have already been coined "that guy" who will not shut up in class causing your fellow colleagues to start keeping a tally of just how many times you will speak about something inane to show the professor that you have a modicum of intelligence. NEWSFLASH: This makes you a PARTICIPATION WHORE.

Ahh yes, orientation. The art of acclimating to your school and classmates. From what I can see, I may honestly be the most chaste person in my class.


Now THAT is a scary thought.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Misery

Question: Why was it so painful to drive 6 hours down to Orange Country from Fremont when I've done longer road trips back East without a hint of crankiness?

Answer: Because I was with my parents.

It's been a couple days since I put my parents on a plane back to Fremont. Oddly enough, I've actually missed them. Or maybe, I just missed the familiarity of someone here in Costa Mesa. I think they felt awkward when they (my parents) realized that I actually didn't want to be here.

On Friday, a good friend from back home (home being D.C. of course) came out to visit. Conveniently enough, his dad lives about 45 minutes away from me and he happened to do what I did but in reverse. Fly into SoCal in order to drive the horrific 6 hours to NorCal. I don't know which is worse - driving alone or driving with my parents.

Driving with my parents.


Anyway, Thursday was probably the first day that I haven't cried. Baby steps? I think so. Unfortunately, it's not getting any easier. Apparently Dell Computers has estimated that they will ship my computer to me on 9/7/07. Yup, that's not a typo. SEPTEMBER 7TH. That's like 3 weeks after school starts and definitely over a month since I ordered the little piece of shit. I blame all the people who recommended it. And of course every time I call I get some idiot who's probably my third cousin once removed in the Philippines. F* that. I want my stupid computer.
Secondly and probably most importantly, the Department of Justice still hasn't paid me my final paycheck. Now, explain this to me: In a government agency that rarely goes off routine, why, WHY would something as simple as a final electronic disbursement be difficult to do? Oh right. BECAUSE ITS THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. As if they hadn't screwed me over enough already by asking me to work late hours and give up weekends and holidays, they just happen to forget to pay me. Bitches, you owe me at LEAST a grand and a half. Pay up.

In all fairness, my attitude on life in the OC is starting to look a little less gloomy. Like I said, my friend came to visit and we had a blast. My roommate and I went to the beach yesterday and it was gorgeous. The weather was nice, the people were beautiful and there was a couple sitting no more than 20 feet from me smoking a joint.


How can I not like California? (No, really, please convince me.)