i certainly owe a fuller autopsy analysis of the rock-star-nerd-tour which drew to a close this past weekend; but these last few days have gone by so quickly (and have left me so mentally drained) that the difference can best be summed up and squared away by numbers:

4: the number of beds i've slept in the the last four nights.
3: the number of different people who have shared those beds.

52: the amount i spent at jcrew this morning.
3: the numer of business meetings i had today.
2: the number of times in my life i've been to new york city on business and gone shopping.
1: the number of bosses who actually went shopping with me.

688: the number of miles i've traveled to and from destinations in the last five days.
14: the number of hours it's taken me.
11: the number of cookies i've eaten during these travels.

76: the number of times harvard was brought up.
1: the number of times i brought it up.

9: the number of drinks i consumed over the weekend.
2: the number of fights it caused.
0: the number of times i fell asleep drunk in a bathtub (this weekend).

3: the number of nipples that my brother has.
2: the number of nipples i have.
1: the number of my nipples that popped out of my dress while dancing this weekend.
0: the number of women showing more cleavage than me at the wedding.

as a communications profakessional and an aspiring expert in bullshitting (is there an alternative career path an individual with a law degree? or a business degree for that matter), i have been thinking a lot about the assumptions placed on individuals based on looks and what they own. well no. actually, a mock-marketing class at one of my preview weekends made me think about it. but none of you was there. so i'll share (read: hijack the idea).

as time passes, that which was hot while we were growing up (leg warmers and pushdown socks for example), quickly transforms into a clear indicator of "lack-of-coolness" once trends go out of style (by the way, wtf is up with leg warmers being trendy again?). maybe it's just me and i have been too busy making up describing life changing experiences for my graduate school applications, but i can't keep up.

i just got a jennifer aniston haircut. that's still cool, right?

and while many of my peers strive to have the newest cell phone, the smallest digital camera, or the coolest mp3 player (or the all in one device that is part-cell-phone-part-digital-camera-and-part-mp3-player -- and part-remote-control and part-oven-on-which-to-cook-dinner), the rest of us just aim to have crap that functions at all.

so some of us overcompensate by blinging out our cell phones (hypothetically, of course).

oh my g-d: what if one day my kids don't think i'm cool? or i think the music they listen to and the television they watch is "garbage?!" (and really, could it get worse than "beauty and the geek" or "don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me"**?)

in light of my pending mini-mid-life quarter-life crisis, i did what anyone who is considered young, hip, and cool would do: i showed my boobies at mardi gras i joined facebook.***

now, this move -- the facebook one that is -- has been met with resistance by some of my wiser (read: older) friends, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do to maintain her image. (which was almost shattered senior year of college when three of my friends found out that i secretly exercised in spite of my working-out-is-bad-for-you advocacy. i assure you, i definitely don't work out anymore; it was a phase. working out is bad for you and don't let anyone tell you differently.)

but i digress.

i've been a longtime friendster user. but it has recently been brought to my attention that not having a facebook profile might as well be considered social suicide. but friendster was the thing to do when i was a freshmeat in college; facebook didn't emerge until a month before i graduated college, a development i quickly dismissed because i was a friendster-er not a facebook-er.

but what makes facebook -- with its scandalous photos and suggestive profiles -- different from friendster is that one needs an ".edu" email address to sign up. which automatically makes it exclusive. and that much more fun.

in marketing psychology, there is a concept that taps into the notion that consumers purchase goods or partake in services in order to feel good about themselves (people got paid to claim that?!). it's the reason why most of us have shed our aol email addresses (for gmail ... which conveys an air of eliteness and coolness), buy sevens jeans (does levis still exist anyway?), and eat sushi (well, that's probably because it's delicious).

it's the reason why we prescribe to toe-cleavage shoes, stupid pants, and jeep liberties.

everyday, we pay a premium to be and to feel cool. and i think that's okay. part of growing up is finding a balance between our fading childhood and our pending adulthood. and finding a way to fend off losing touch with the culture driven by today's youth. and maybe, just maybe, growing up in the twenty-first century is also about letting go of the things we're comfortable with and adapting to change.

in the few days since i've been a new facebook-er, i've spent hours aggressively adding friends and uploading photos. i have a newfound emotional attachment to facebook that makes me feel popular and wanted every time i sign on. and that, my friends, is what effective marketing is all about.

albeit: in twenty years, presidential candidates will have to answer to their facebook profile.

... but at least their kids will think they're cool.

-----------------------------------
** full disclosure: i love that song.
*** fuller disclosure: this whole post is just a ploy to lobby all of you -- yes, even those of you who read my blog but don't tell me you do and those of you who read my blog that i have not yet met -- to add me as your facebook friend.

this afternoon, the woman at fed-ex told me that she wasn't feeling well because of "woman problems ... if [i] know what [she] means."

oh, i did. and told her so.

but all potential doubt was removed when she told me that she thought every woman should have time off from work during the week of "their flow."

is it legal for sales employees to talk about personal feminine issues with customers?! is it me, or is that gross?

good thing she left out the nitty-gritty details about her STD.

Warner Huntington III: You got into Harvard Law?
Elle: What? Like, it's hard?

although i have no doubt that many, many students turn down harvard each year to attend other equally -- in not more -- wonderful (mental)institutions, i have not been strong enough in my resistance. in fact, my attempt to reject harvard was as futile as keeping quiet a group of school girls waiting for a backstreetboys concert to begin.

sans the shrieking. although when the law school mistakenly sent me a letter of acceptance, i may have squealed. but only once.

when harvard did me a favor by offering me an interview invitation last fall on a specific day at a specific time in a city i don't live, i was flat out insulted: i, for one, am a full time professional running my own department at an organization in which everyday counts. what the hell made them think i'd just hop on a plane -- on my own dime nonetheless -- feign sickness at work, and cancel all the previous engagements i had already confirmed because they wanted to see my face for thirty friggen minutes?

("i feel comfortable using legal jargon in everyday life..." i object!)

at least i slept on the plane ride up and did work on the the plane ride back.

i'm a fucking sell-out.

and that really -- really -- pisses me off.

i hate giving in to assuming authority: despite my declaration that i would write, "i rejected harvard" on my resume, instead, i'm going to be forced to settle for writing that i attended. besides, they were stupid enough to accept me. suckers.

"law school is for people who are boring and ugly and serious." maybe elle's best friend will let me borrow her lucky scrunchie too.

since i'll probably have nothing worthwhile to add academically or intellectually, i have decided that my mission for the next few years is quite simple: to be the voice of reason to the administration, stupidity in the classroom, and humbleness within the student body. civil disobedience is a tough job, but someone's got to do it.

unfortunately for them -- like aephi -- they got me.

just as i shoved jewishness at the jewish-resistant sisters of my sorority, i shall bring stupidity and talentlessness to the stupidity-and-talentlessness-resistant nerds at harvard.

and the only viable explanation i can deduce is that harvard took a chance on me: if you've ever seen legally blonde, you might recall the scene in which the members of the ivy league admissions team look at each other and excuse her sorority's faux fur panties for being an indicator that elle is a "friend of the animals."

i bet aephi wished i had designed faux fur panties for our charity project instead of being jewish.

as for me, harvard probably sat there and thought: "well, she didn't write a book (it's coming dammit), discover a cure for cancer, or spend six years in the peace corps feeding malnourished children in africa. but when her thong hung out of her black pants during her interview, it looked like she, too, was a friend of the animals."

and i also scented my resume.

but perhaps one of the biggest dilemmas of this decision has nothing to do with finding housing, making friends, or building my resume over the next years of my life; rather, what makes me sick to my stomach everytime i have to face it is how to craft a tactful, humble answer to the question: where do you go to school?

if you've ever met a harvard graduate, you can pick 'em out immediately from their answer to this question -- the answer is: "in boston."

seriously, it's a loaded question. kind of like, "are you pregnant?"

yet as a civil disobedience-r, while i am profoundly disturbed by my inability to be strong enough to turn down the self-important institution, i am mildly comforted by the notion that i am still the in the minority as perhaps the twelfth person in history to go to harvard because i didn't get into my first choice.

in the meantime, i guess be garnering good material for this blog and my book ... at harvard in boston.

i owe you a post. i haven't forgotten -- just haven't felt funny lately. in fact, i haven't felt-up anyone at all lately.

coming soon.