Let’s just call a spade a spade: I am a 20-something law student in New York City. And, against all my better efforts, I am single. Welp – doesn’t that just ooze of desperation? But, seriously, what’s a law student to do? We all spend half our waking hours in class and the other half preparing for class, loading up on resume-boosting extra-curricular activities, and, for the lucky ones, sleeping. Now a select group of law schools do enter into this hellish experience with a significant other in tow, but I’d reckon they would all agree – it is not smooth sailing from there. In fact, I’m willing to bet that Cardozo doesn’t host their annual seminar for “law students and their significant others” just for fun. Law school is hard. Life is hard. Love is hard. Balancing the three? Borderline impossible. But what are we overachieving law students if not up for a challenge? And me, a token Type-A workaholic? Well, in the words of Barney Stinson, challenge accepted. This is going to be legend…. wait for it… dary.
So, who is this “[insert pen name]” you might ask? Ah ha, young grasshopper, not so fast! Plenty of wise people have made good use of the pseudonym or pen name – hello, Gossip Girl– and I plan on being just as wise. Plus, I’m confident you can like me without knowing who I am. I bet you didn’t know we have Barry Manilow to thank for the oh-so-catchy, “like a good neighbor, State Farm is there” jingle, but that doesn’t stop you from humming along, does it? But I do promise to be honest and upfront to the best of my ability. I also hope to provide some valuable life lessons along the way, even if only from my mistakes. Seriously, I know he’s just not that into me, but I know I can change him.
In the articles to come, I intend to try and tackle everything: from that uncomfortable morning after Fall Bash where you are just not quite sure how you got home without your friends or any money, to that awkward moment where life rears it’s ugly head and your recent blind date is posed with an impossible conundrum: should he accept your father’s pending Facebook friend request, or not? Oh yes, ladies and gents, prepare yourselves for the hard-hitting stuff here.
Maybe you even have some burning life questions of your own as you traverse this rocky path we call law school. Is it possible to ever have a social life again? What exactly qualifies as a drinking problem? On a scale of 1-10, how bad are my law-school goggles? Who would possibly want to date me during finals when my eyes are bloodshot from copious amounts of caffeine, my hygiene hasn’t been this bad since Michael Phelps’ winning streak kept me glued to my couch for a week, and I haven’t been to the gym since – oh, okay fine. I never had a gym membership to begin with. And perhaps the most important question, what is the best escape route out of the Third Floor lounge when that 1L I made out with at the SBA bar night emerges from the elevator bank? (The answer, by the way, is to slip out the back door and hightail it down the stairwell to the 2nd floor, obviously).
In the interest of a noble game of hard-to-get, I think that’s all for now, Cardozo. We all know a girl should never “give it up” on the first date. I only hope that I have provided you a somewhat more enthralling reading option than your casebooks. If not, I’m not too concerned – it was definitely less painful than my Match.com interactions with the aspiring mortician (but alas, that’s another story for another time).