The Sky is Falling!

I looked out my window today and what did I see?

SNOW! IT'S SNOWING!!! I had to go out and investigate further...


This California hick has never seen snow before! Better zip up...


WOW! The first snow of the year!

If I Met George Clooney Today...

If I met George Clooney today,
And we decided to go down the street,
To the nearest cafe,
And grab something to eat,
I think I would say:

Hello, and how are you doing today?
And what is it like to be you everyday?
The power, the fame, the world at your feet,
The villa in Italy and anything you want,
Is yours for the asking and taking, after all,
You are voted the sexiest man alive.

What is it like, at just 44, to have legions of fans,
Mad screaming fans wherever you go?
To be friends with the most famous and powerful of mortals,
Brad Pitt and Matt Damon, and to not ever have to,
If you didn't want to,
Work another day in your life?

What are you working on?
What are your plans,
For the good of the earth,
For your fellow man?
Certainly you see all the need and destruction,
All the pain and corruption,
All the helpless and hurting,
Who have been given so little,
While you have been given so much, so much!

What are you doing,
Or what will you do,
To make sure the wealth that God gave you is used?
To make sure it wasn't in vain that you had,
Such humor and wit,
Such glamour and style,
Such effortless charisma at your fingertips?

And in reply,
He'll probably turn to me and say,
While he looks me in the eye,

"I support various groups,
I give donations to some,
And I hope through those groups,
Much good works can be done."

"It's nice to be wanted, it's nice to be loved,
It's nice to have fans who all scream for a hug.
My friends are a riot.
We enjoy mutual admiration.
And the villa in Italy is no small consolation."

"But really, it's not what you think it might be.
There are days when even I'm not happy.
There are good days and bad days and days in between,
And no matter how much money you have,
There will always be
monotony."

"No matter how much you have,
There's always the next great big thing.
You quickly adapt and you quickly adjust,
Your standards are raised and then,
What was normal seems substandard at best,
And what was extraordinary is now,
Normal and expected."

"So really, our lives are quite parallel,
We both live in our own personal hells,
Of course my hell is like heaven to you,
But once you get comfy it'll seem like hell too.
We are all finite beings in a mysterious world,
Wanting infinite pleasure and constant perfection,
And great beauty that never tires or fades,
But always evades."

"And thus, despite all the trappings of wealth,
In all the ways that really matter,
We are really more or less the same, you see,
You and me."

Nobody's Perfect

Nobody's perfect.

So why do we try to be?

Some people hide their flaws a lot better than others.
Some people have ostensibly fewer flaws than others.

When I see an ostensibly perfect person,
with perfect teeth and skin;
and a perfect outfit on;
and a perfect resume;
and has perfect social skills;

I try hard to find the flaw in him/her.


Nobody's perfect.

But Hollywood and fairytales would make us believe differently.

Actresses have perfect skin, bodies, and accessories.
Heroines have perfect heroes.
Cinderallas have their perfect princes.

Perfection is a perpetual obsession and the obtainment of which is the human Holy Grail.

Let's abandon that fruitless effort. Scrap that misguided adventure.
Let's not reach for perfection in an impossibly imperfect world.
Let us learn to live contentedly with dusty shelves and dirty dishes.
And yet, sometimes, it is right and good that we try...

Finally, it's happened to me...

Life is marked by a series of firsts.

Baby's first steps. Baby's first words.
Your first crush. Your first kiss. Your first boyfriend.
Your first car, job, apartment...

Well, this weekend I had a great first.
I always wondered when it would happen to me but I never put forth any effort toward making it happened.
Just when I least expected it, it happened.
And it couldn't have happened in a better way.

Michael and I were getting ready to watch a DVD when he just happened to see that the last 6 minutes of the USC v. Notre Dame game was on. The score was so close that USC only had to score one more touchdown to keep their undefeated status as the number one ranking college football team.

I sat down on the couch next to him.
And that's when it happened.

My first.
My first football game.

I knew I was experiencing my baptism into the world of football the second my cheek touched the couch cushion. With 6 minutes left in the game, USC scored an amazing touchdown. And then the unbelievable happened. Like an unstoppable tsunami wave, Notre Dame scored a winning touchdown! And then, with less than two minutes on the clock, a true miracle happened on USC's fourth down. They advanced all the way from like the 35 yard line to somewhere near the 90 yard line before someone got tackled. The clock ran out of time and Notre Dame's fans came cheering onto the field. But wait! The refs reset the clock! They ruled that the clock should have been stopped at the 7 second mark! And with just 7 seconds left to go, USC scored the very last touchdown with only 3 seconds remaining! Go Trojans!

And that, children, is how mommy became a football fan.

Perfect Weather

It's dark and rainy at 4:00 in the afternoon.

I love this weather because it doesn't make you feel like you're missing out on life if you just stay indoors to study all day.



It's the perfect weather for lighting some candles, sipping a mug of steaming hot latte, and bundling in a soft fleece blanket while reading Contracts: Cases and Materials. Ok, that last part doesn't quite fit the ideal. I'll just pretend I'm reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

This guy knows how to play the game...

His shirt says: Now that I'm safe, I'm pro-choice!

The Big "C"

They warned me about it.

Every single person I met in Boston warned me about it.

I laughed it off cockily.
I welcomed it.
I smiled. I sneered.
I spit. (figuratively)
"Bring it on," I said,
"I'm looking forward to it."

And now, without any warning,
it's heeeeeeerrrrreeeee...

The Big "C."

"C" as in COLD.
"C" as in cheek-chilling, cuspid-chattering, COLD.
"C" as in, I-have-never-worn-this-much-clothing-in-all-my-years-of-living-in-California COLD.

And it's only the first week of October...

One for the little guys everywhere

In a way, I'm kind of happy that Harriet Miers was nominanted to be the next justice.

She stands for the "everyman." The normal. The average.

If she, a graduate of a law school that most people have never heard of, can be nominated for the highest honor in her field, that gives hope to all average Joes everywhere. Just because you're not highly regarded by society's standards, doesn't mean great things can't happen for you.

Miers is a symbol of egalitarianism and democracy in an Andrew Jackson sort of way. Many people balked when good ol' Stonewall was elected since he was the first president NOT come from an elite background.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying she's qualified (or she isn't). I just like when there's an anomoly in an elitist world.

This link to Mier's blog is awful, but so funny.

Three Great Things

1. The leaves have started to change color. This picture is from the White Mountains of New Hampshire (not taken by me).


2. I found this shirt and intend to buy it. I know you all want this shirt too, but you can't buy it cause I claimed it first. Ggggosh!


3. I learned to use the VCR so I can record all the L&O I can handle. Twice a week, every week baby. (Jerry Orbach, we miss you!)

Dare to be an Optimist

Well, in response to my post, "Poisen Preference," some of my optimist friends have weighed in.

Melissa says:
maybe pessimism poisons the future as much as it forestalls possible disappointment. personally, as an optimist, if you always think things will look up, you'll always feel happy and hopeful. and when things are down, that's ok, cause you are sure the situation will improve. after all, this too shall pass.

Eddie says:
I think it's better to be an optimist. At least that way you're going to pick yourself up when you fall, instead of staying down and waiting to be picked up.

And in response to that, I say:
Hmm..you're all optimists and you tell me it works for you. I'm a pessimist and it doesn't quite work for me. Ok, I'm convinced. I'm going to be an optimist from now on. I'm going to quit cold-turkey.

No more gloom and doom.

Today is going to be great! Tonight is going to be great! Tomorrow will be great!

Great things are going to happen to me!
I'm beautiful and smart and people like me!

Yeah baby, I feel the magic working already! Watch out world, make room for me and my new robust sense of optimism, yeah! (image: Me doing a double-fist pump)

Everytime I start to feel bad, I'm just going to repeat this mantra:
Everything's going to be great!

Stay tuned, dear readers, to find out what havoc these new rose-tinted spectacles shall wreak on my week...

Sorry! No! (Bad optimist! Bad optimist!) What I meant to say is:
Stay tuned and witness how great this new point of view will be for me throughout the week!

Thwarted!

This is the second time I tried to record Reunion and it didn't work!

I very diligently read the manual to see how to set my VCR to record Reunion yesterday and thought it was all ready.

I turned on the VCR today ready to be thoroughly entertained after a hard week's studying and find out I didn't record the show!!!! ARGH!

The timer was programmed correctly. But I set it to record Channel 7, instead of Channel 12!!! ARGH!

Now I have an hour's worth of The Apprentice that is worth nothing to me! If I were Trump I'd fire myself! ARGH!

Poisen Preference

The sucky thing about living is disappointment.

That's why I'm a pessimist. I'm never disappointed. Always pleasantly surprised.

But actually, I'm learning that this may not be the best strategy. As a pessimist you live all day in dread and fear and then get pleasantly suprised for a moment. Is it better to live all day in sunshine and lollipops and then get your high hopes dashed in the end?

What's worse: living in perpetual gloom or getting your heart broken?

The Agony and the Vanity

My white cotton socks have a half-dollar size spot of blood soaked into it.

I knew I shouldn't have worn those shoes to school.

Even before I put them on, I reminded myself of the pain the notorious pair gave me yesterday. But they made me look sooo good.

The minute I stepped out the door, I started to feel the painful scuffing on the back of my left heel. Should I go home and change?

But I was 5 minutes late already. And my apartment is 3 flights of stairs above. And these shoes make me look soooo good.

By the time I was halfway to class, the pain made me start to hallucinate. Stupid, desperate thoughts filled my mind. How can I stop this pain? Maybe I could gather the fallen leaves and stuff them into my shoe. Maybe I could stuff my white sweater into my shoe. Maybe I could stuff my pants into my shoe (so much for looking good).

When I was 75% of the way there, I actually stopped and tried to stuff my pants into my shoe. But I was pressed for time and couldn't make it happen properly.

I half limped/halfed hopped on my one good foot to class. Sat down, checked my heel, and gasped at the price I pay for vanity.

Bring Back the Legwarmers!

I love the new show Reunion. Each episode takes you through another year in the life of 6 friends who just graduated highschool. That's 1986, 1987, 1988, etc., all the way to 2005.


Even though those kids graduated when I was only 6, it brings me back to my good ol' highschool days.

Ok...they actually weren't that great. But I miss the routine. I miss seeing all the same people. I miss my group of buds. I miss breakfast burritos.

And even if the show didn't have a twisty, edge-of-your-seat plot, it would be amusing for the fashion alone. I mean, who wears "the double-polo"? I thought that was just catalogue myth...but apparently it was popular in 1986.

1 in 25 Million

I saw some bizarre things on TV today.

Oprah did a special show on identical twins where one twin has a sex change. These are identical twins, mind you. Same DNA, same everything. So, why the big difference?


(Brenda and Bonnie were identical twins. Bonnie changed her name to Aidan and looks drastically different since taking testosterone pills.)

Scientists propose that the womb environment for twins can cause drastic differences. They may not get the same hormonal developments due to being squished in a smaller space, getting less blood, or any number of yet unstudied factors.

It was compelling how each of the ex-Janes felt about their identities. They felt like the other gender all their lives, starting from early childhood. They lived in a constant depressed state. Many were suicidal. No one wanted to accept the creeping suspicion that they had a gender disorder. Who would?

I was moved to near tears for the grief and isolation these ex-Janes felt for so long. The one choice that made them feel finally free and liberated was their sex change. One person likened her sex change to a cancer patient finally being free of cancer. "I just feel utter relief," she/he said.

How could anyone pass judgment on these ex-Janes? I can't and won't and thankfully don't have to.

Arresting Humor

I love my new TVD series, "Arrested Development." It's so funny. You all owe it to yourselves to check it out.

I heard this hilarious quote yesterday, which was spoken by a main character in all honesty:

Lawyer is Latin for liar.

I know I shouldn't love lawyer jokes, considering where I'm headed. But it's funny!

Fly me home, NOW!

In case people wonder how long it takes to adjust to moving far and away from the only life you've ever known...here is some data to consider.

Of course I can only speak for myself, but it's been 3 months and I'm still not over the move. Yup. I'm still homesick. I know I should "suck it up," and "enjoy my new time and experiences here." But sometimes I feel like if I have to introduce myself to another person, smile and rack my brain for small talk, I'm going to snap.

In fact, I've gotten so enured to the whole "meeting new people" dialogue that I committed quite a few faux pas(es?) today at church. When I met a whole new slew of people, I didn't try to remember their names, what graduate programs they're in, where they're originally from, or the answer to any other questions I mindlessly asked them. And then when the inevitable awkward silence crept in, I didn't even say the obligatory, "well, it was nice meeting you," or any other polite "release" phrases. I just left.

It's not that I don't care. I do. But it's just too much new information! I feel like I'm playing a giant, life-size, human game of memory (you know, when you flip all the cards upside-down and try to match them).

"Oh, you're from Minnesota right?" "No...Wisconsin?" "You're studying engineering at M.I.T. right?" "No...you're girlfriend is?" "You're fiance?" "You're wife?" "You're mother's second cousin's hairdresser?"

"Yeah! I can't believe you remembered that!"

"Wait...sorry, I hate to ask this, but, what was your name again?"

Need Hair Advice

I've never had a lot of success with my hair. I feel like it's my last obstacle on the road to looking like an adult.

Things you can do to make your hair look more sophisticated:
a) get a perm
b) cut it boy-ishly short
c) get stylish highlights and lowlights
d) grow it out long and luxurious
e) use fancy products

I can't do any of the above because most of them require constant maintenance, which is not possible on a starving student's budget. The only thing I could possibly do is grow it out long. But I hate how proportionately long it then takes to wash and dry your hair. So, as a time-starved student, that's not going to work.

So now I have a moppy bob, which Michael says reminds him of Ramona in the Beverly Cleary novels. And it's the same cut I had when I was around 10.

But then, I saw this cut in my new Anthropologie catalogue and I think it might work...

What do you think I should do?

Should I fart in torts too?

Usually, having 2 blogs simultaneously sounds the death knell of one or the other. But I am determined to keep both up and current.

The new blog, law-and-disorder.blogspot.com, will be dedicated to answering the general question, "So what's law school like?"

But this blog will retain my more random and varied thoughts that I don't wish to be quite so public...and sometimes have nothing to do with law.

The naming of a baby is always an exciting and difficult event. I did quite a bit of pondering over naming my new law school blog and am happy to settle on a homage to my favorite TV show (Jerry Orbach, we love you!!!)

But while scouring the net for inspiration, I came across the funniest law school blog name: "I Farted In Torts..." Now, I'm not so crass that I could pull that off, but I was sorely tempted to call mine: "I Farted In Torts Too..." Michael suggested, how about: "I Farted In Contracts..."

While I was in that crass frame of mind, I almost called my blog, "Legal Doodies, fresh droppings from the mind and life of a 1L."

Now for an entirely different subject. I just finished the very last episode of Sex in the City. I give seasons 4-6 (the only ones I've watched) my sincerest blessings. There could be no higher praise for a show than this: I would buy the DVDs. Well done. Well done.

If it's anything I've learned from hearing the commentary on the episodes of SIC, it's that the 4 main characters have a deliberate story arch, a learning curve. They change and mature and progress throughout the series until they become better and more than who they were before. It's certainly optimistic.



Now it's time for a new show. I casted the lot and rented Arrested Development. And boy did I get lucky. With character names like Tobias Funke (pronounced Fune-kay) and Gob (pronounced "Job"), you can't go wrong.

In off beat mockumentary shows it's usually the child actors that make you want to cringe and contemplate not watching the show anymore.

But I got to say, the teenage boy in this delightful series (Michael Cera) is definitely a crown jewel, a keeper, a highlight of the series. If you liked Curb Your Enthusiasm and The Office, or any movies by Christopher Guest, you owe it to yourself to check out Arrested Development.

It Has Begun...

Want to join me on my law school adventures?

I have started a new blog for just that purpose.

Visit law-and-disorder.blogspot.com and go to law school vicariously!

Aaaaaaahhh...I love you, internet.

I'm soooo happy to be blogging again.

My long drought of "no internet service" is finally over. Stupid Verizon took freaking 2 weeks to get my line up and ready! argh!

I do so miss blogging. I never realized I liked it so much.

Ok. Now for some catching up...

Major events that have happened since I moved:
1. Moving. Here are some pics from our maiden voyage. (Click on any pics to enlarge)


What is behind door #10...?


Why, our living/dining room, of course!


And here is our kitchen.


And we love our nook...at the end of the very long kitchen. Notice the typical literature respective of Michael and me. He has a Time magazine on his side, I have a Neiman Marcus catalogue.


My first taste of Sandersonias. Delightful.

2. Our 2nd Anniversary.


Delphiniums for the happy couple.


We went to the Boston Commons to celebrate. Apparently, Massachusetts is so special that it calls its parks "commons." We walked down the posh Beacon St. and shopping district that housed Burberry, Louis Vuiton, etc...and boasts the residences of Senator Kerry and the like.


We also went to our corner market. The cutest corner market ever.



Ok...this blog is getting to be too long and time consuming. I'll put up more later.

Still Moving...

There hasn't been a day that's gone by since we moved last week, that I didn't construct some new piece of furniture.

Bookshelves, desks, chairs, utility carts, you name it! I've been building it.

No internet yet installed means no blogging...unless I make the 15 minute trek to my school to use their computers, which is what I'm doing now.

Moving is a b***ch.

Moving Time!

(This is our actual building!)

We move into our new place this Saturday! Yay!

I'm so excited to get settled in to our fabulous new apartment. I've moved in and out of apartments thousands of times before, but this time, it's different.

This time I'm really excited. Even though we've never even looked inside it, it already seems like the ideal space. And, it's got something I have never before had, a second bedroom!

Also, there's something great about knowing that (God willing) it is ours for the next 3 years. Ours to decorate and cherish and call our own.

I can't wait to make it efficient yet tasteful. Streamlined, yet graceful. Both aesthetically and ergonomically pleasing.

Maybe I'll have a L-shaped desk with a back-friendly chair. File cabinets neatly labelled. Closets purged of all but the 20% that I wear 80% of the time. It's time to get organized!

I'll be channelling my inner Martha (or rather a smaller, more frugal version of the paladin of polish).

Mahnolo v. Monogamy

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be single.

Watching Sex in the City (SIC) makes me think I'm really missing out. A whole city full of adventure and possibilities. I can imagine myself in fabulous clothes, working in a high-rise and never using my kitchen (for cooking anyway).

Even though I haven't even been married for 2 years now, it feels more like 6 since Michael and I started dating when I was 19. Nineteen. Everytime I say that number it reminds me of some magical time, long ago, when I was young and the world was wide open.

I've been so curious about singledom I even made the horrible faux pas of asking a single gal I just met at church, How's it like being single? And as soon as the words flew out of my mouth, I wish I could've taken them back...cause she was 31 and, well, didn't look very happy.

But when I seriously consider how life could've been, I must admit it probably wouldn't have been so great. To be a successful single, you have to be outgoing and optimistic. You have to believe everything will work out for you in the end (married or not). And you have to have a social network that takes care of you like a second family.

Well, I'm notoriously antisocial and pessimistic and even strike some as a cynic! So clearly, I would be a bitter lonely old maid, never meeting new people and never keeping in touch with old ones. I would find fault with any man that crossed my path and never trust my friends enough to feel un-alone. Instead of mingling and mixing, I would be home with a bucket full of fried chicken and enough video rentals to get me through each weekend.

God knows I would've been one bitter old misanthropic grinch.

But still, if one show can make this grinch feel like she might be missing out during the holidays, it would be SIC.

I Heart NY...on TV

In the battle of the coasts, I think NY is winning over Southern CA when it comes to popular media.

They had Sex & the City and (still have) Law and Order. "We" had Beverly Hills 90210 and (still have) the OC. They had Friends, we have Joey. They have Will & Grace, we have...no gay sitcoms.

Anyway, you get the idea. New York City. What an amazing city. It is THE American city.

When you think LA, you think decadence and paradisical landscapes.
When you think Flordia, you think retirees and golf courses.
When you think Boston, you think academia and uptightness.
I could go on and on.
But when you think of NY...you think: THE City.

Which brings me to ask, what makes a city so citified? What are the particular attributes of a city (vs. say a suburb or a rural district)? Here's a few:
1. Diversity
2. Heavy Commerce
3. Crowdedness

Essentially, people. Heavy commerce, you can see as a by-product of so many people trying to make a living.

The city: lots of people from all different backgrounds smooshed in as compactly as possible. Makes for good tv.

All the news that's fit to print

The only reason I'm blogging right now is because my Catan Online isn't working for some bizarre reason.

Catan is my newest addiction and I'm devastated that it has been down for about 30 hours now. Sigh. Cruel withdrawal! How could you do this to me?!

But this gives me a chance to catch up on what's up.

What's up?

Well, I think my right foot is broken.
In fact, I think evereything from the waist down is pretty much a mess right now.

It all started when I decided to do a little bit o' exercise in my living room since the weather has been so horrible that to go outside is to die. I did lunges. Something I hadn't done in a little over a year. And maybe I went a little overboard with them.

Now whenever I have to sit, or shift, or stand, I groan like an eighty year old woman. And strangely enough, I must've pounded my right foot down into the lunges so much that I broke it. Thank God my insurance starts next week so if I'm still hobbling, I can hobble on over to the clinic and get it checked out.

In other news...I've been trying to prestudy some law. That's really very boring. I have five textbooks that I read and take notes on. Yawn.


I do look forward to moving into out new apartment soon. August 5th is D-day, when we do the final leg of our journey to Boston. That's right. It's not officially over until we move all our stuff out of storage. Our new "permanent" address will be just 2 minutes from Harvard's main campus and 11 minutes from my law school. That's walking, by the way. No one drives in Cambridge (the opposite of LA in more ways than transportation). And we'll be just 5 minutes away from the Coop, our new four story yuppie bookstore of choice, complete with a tiny Starbucks wannabe cafe.


(Note the Coop sign in the background and there are no cars, just bikes and pedestrians).


School starts Septemeber 6, after labor day. Just like elementary school.

Marriage is like a two person kayak...

First of all, you're stuck together.
Once you've "pushed off" there's no escape without great discomfort.

Therefore, and secondly, you must work together.
That involves frequent communication and compromise.


For instance, we encountered difficulty at first when Michael wanted to play the game How-close-can-we-get-to-the-river-bank. And I wanted to stay as far away as possible from the bank because I was under the impression that it would make us more susceptible to flipping.


We communicated and compromised. Well, actually, everytime we veered toward the bank I screamed like a banshee and paddled furiously away and Michael pitied me (and his bleeding ears) and eventually gave up.

But anyway, that leads me to the next similarity between marriage and kayaking, which is that sometimes, you can really enjoy the view...and each other.


To all my newly wed friends, Michelle, Peggy, Suzanne, Jen, and soon to be Joy... Here's to a great (two-person) adventure!



*(These pictures were taken on the Charle's River, right outside our apartment building! Boston, what a great city!)

The Weekenders

Over the weekend Michael's mom and sister came to visit.

They were very good sports about being cramped in our 500 sq ft single br apt and sleeping on the floor.

Here are some highlights.

(Click the picture to enlarge it)

Here they are on the streets of Cambridge. Coming from rural towns, they are both delighted to be in such a metropolitan area.


We discovered the joy of frisbee and spontaneously founded the Harvard Frisbee Team. We started counting our consecutive succesful throws and everyone, even Michael's mom said, "That's just like that one episode of Friend's!-When Chandler was 'the dropper.'" (I bet even my mom knows which episode I'm talking about.) Ah Friends, what a litmus test of cultural literacy.


What is a trip to Boston without eating at the famous Legal Seafood Restaurant? Unfortunately everyone thought the food was overated and overpriced.


But mostly, we snickered at DVD episodes of the OC, Season 1. I miss California.

Mmmmmm...

Really? Like, thanks!

So I guess it's the obvious consensus that I'm more "legally blonde" than "legal eagle." Almost everyone I know has made it a point to say to me, "Wow, have you seen Legally Blonde?" And then the next phrase is inevitably, "You're just like her!"

Yup, whether it be my best friend, professors, church acquaintances, and even my own mother.

Certainly I'm not like her in a Ms. Hawaii Tropics Runner-Up way, what with her full curves and tight, uh, everything. So it must be our mutual innards?

Well, I only hope so. Elle Woods is a high role model to aspire to. She's genuine, caring, and quite capable of understanding the law. I admire her bottomless pep and sleeve-rolling-up drive...all without even chipping a nail!

Since the opposite of Elle is pretension and snobbery, I'll feel like I'm doing something right if people keep making these comparisons.

But maybe the comparisons refer more to my sometimes cavernous superficiality and ignorance of the world around me. It's no surprise to anyone that I'll read People and US twice before I deign to pick up Time or USNews (and then only to look at the pictures and captions). And I do recall people saying (with alarming frequency) that my "blonde roots were showing" throughout elementary school and junior high.

At any rate, I certainly feel strongly as Elle does that, "Whoever said orange was the new pink was seriously disturbed." People, take it from those who know. Orange is for Holloween and reliving the 80's. Pink, like basic black, will never go out.

Earth to Major Tom

This is Tom Barrella's billboard.

This, apparently, is his last and greatest effort to find a wife.
Oh, but not just any wife.

As his website will tell you, this "first captain" is seeking his "firstmate...his soulmate."

Yes, the S-word.

The One.

When asked by an interviewer about her qualities, Tom replied, "I'll know when I see her. She'll give me butterflies. She'll motivate me to love her everyday."

Well, Tom, I wish you luck. But I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. First of all, you should know that the billboard bachelor is 41, very wealthy (otherwise how could he afford this huge panorama in NY), and has dated a lot. He's succesful, healthy, and filled to the brim with good things. All that's missing, the last piece of that pie...is Her. But Tom, sorry man, I don't think she exists because you are TOO PICKY!

People like Tom are idealists. It's gotta be perfect or not at all. Well Tom, people aren't perfect. Love isn't a fairytale. And no one is going to "motivate" you to love 24/7.

There's nothing wrong with being idealistic...but this realist just thinks that Tom needs to let it go. Face the music. You're never going to get married. You're hurdles are too high for any human being. You want perfection, which doesn't exist this side of heaven. Move on.

Tom reminds me of all those poor dissipated seekers of old. The Fisher King. Don Quixote...dreaming the impossible dream.

Actually, Tom reminds me of all of us...sadly. I'm sure we all dream of a land where things are perfect, skies are blue, and we have someone or something that gives us butterflies 24/7. But I don't know of anyone who's found it. I don't know of anyone, in all of history, who wasn't still looking forward, even up to the very moment they were laid to rest.