In light of last night's Boston Legal, where a socially irritating awkward sorority pariah sues her national chapter for renouncing her membership, I got to thinking about my own experience with Greek life and rush.

My first year (freshman), after the first round of rush (out of five), I was asked back to a whopping four of 17 houses. My Rho Chi, bless her heart (that's the sorority girl who, under the guise of anonymity, shepherds the rushing girls through the arduous process) had never seen, nay- had hardly heard LEGEND of, such a colossal failure. The house at which my aunt was an alum turned me down; the house at which most girls from my high school pledge didn't even courtesy carry me through to round two. I was universally PANNED. And so I dropped out of the whole process. It's a wonder I didn't flee the school, so shamed was I that clearly no one could even bear the thought of speaking to me for another 10 MINUTES, EVER.

My second year (sophomore), I was asked back to 14 of 17 houses after round one. How much about me had changed? I grew out my bangs, maybe lost five or six pounds, and knew more about Greek life in general. Still a virgin. Still a geeky college-radio DJ. Was I really that much more confident? Self-assured and overbored? Is the whole thing just voodoo?

While the end result, what house I pledged and what friends I made, was totally right for me, I wonder if 2007 Beth wouldn't fare that much more differently. Could I be the Pi Phi as I'd always hoped? God knows I look better now than I did in the winter of 1994, and I'd like to think I'm a bit more socially gifted. I smell a sub-par reality show or another dumb yet endearing rom-com in the vain of Never Been Kissed.