And now, I wait.
When the head proctor called time this afternoon, the entire room broke into applause, and even our normally stoic proctor had to crack a smile. She let us blow off a little steam, then continued with her closing instructions. A few moments later, I was free to go.
Those first few moments after the exam I was so overwhelmed I didn't even know it. I was drained and exhausted - too spent even to realize that I was done. When I called my mother, she kept trying to get me to say I felt good about it, but I wouldn't, couldn't commit. It's all out of my hands, but neither do I want to tempt fate.
In the meantime, a few reflections from my week here in Oakland:
1. Bad fashion knows no bounds. I understand that we are taking an excruciating exam and that we are stuck in a convention center, cattle-style, for six hours a day. Still, I find that no excuse to wear velour sweatsuits, even if they do say "Juicy" on the butt. Even if someone spent hundreds of dollars on her velour outfit, she's still wearing sweatpants. In public. People can, and should, do better than that.
2. Oakland is the city in which to take the bar. The convention center is located downtown, right in the middle of plenty of places to eat and places to stay. When I took the BarBri MBE in Boston, the test was at the Boston World Trade Center, which is located next to nothing. Nothing. The Massachusetts bar at least permits its applicants to bring food into the exam (California's does not), but if given the option, I'd want to get away from test site during lunch. And get away I would, if only to sit in my hotel room for an hour and a half to veg. At dinner I'd collect with my friends in the lobby of my hotel and walk to one of any number of fun places to eat. (Tonight, Thai. YUM.) I even found the time to run (are you surprised?), and the hotel staff directed me to a lovely lake just a five minutes' run away. So if you're taking the California bar, and you want to use your laptop, take it in Oakland. (There's even a grocery store next to the test site. I got a fridge for my room and stocked it full of fresh veggies.)
3. There's value to registering early. I registered not four hours after registration was available, and as a result I was seated in the very front row. I took the test in a 48,000 sq.-ft. room with what must have been 1,000 other applicants, but for all I knew I had only a Marine on my right and a Boaltie on my left. Never was I distracted by applicants who cut out of the MBE twenty minutes early, never was I bothered by the doofus who'd neglected to download the exam from SofTest and was subsequently running around the 48,000 sq.-ft. room looking for a wireless signal. Didn't see any of that.
4. Post-it flags aren't on the list of items permitted into the test site, but highlighters are, so who's to say that highlighters that come with post-it flags shouldn't be allowed into the test site? I found the flags to be indispensable during the performance tests. Since I was sitting in the very front row, right where the proctors could see me, I doubt that my post-it flags truly were contraband. But just in case, I removed the flags from my test booklet when I handed everything in, and no one was the wiser.
5. The California bar takes its water seriously. We aren't allowed water in the testing room, but the bar examiners sprang for an endless supply of cooler water that sat right outside the doors. The gaggle of applicants on water breaks did lend to a feeling of collective nursing, but at least we didn't have to wait in line to drink sludge from the water fountain.
6. Take the test with a buddy, if you can. I was supremely fortunate to have both the Captain and Good Neighbor along with me in Oakland. I didn't need much, so two buddies were enough, if only to blow off steam at the end of the day and talk about how the Sox traded Manny this afternoon.
7. When it's over, let it go. We'll see just how good at that I am.
Til next time. Which I hope will not come along.
Read entire post...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Stripping away the inessential
In her much-discussed Commencement address at Harvard this June, J.K. Rowling submitted that a mere seven years after her own college graduation, she was the biggest failure she knew. She was jobless, a lone parent, and "as poor as it is possible to be in modern Britain, without being homeless." While she was careful not to glamorize her poverty, she maintained nonetheless that her failure had benefited her by stripping away the inessential. She stopped trying to be what other people wanted her to be, and she began, in earnest, the only work that mattered to her.
Tomorrow I will begin what I hope will be my last meeting ever with the California state bar examiners. After two long days, the third day is a test as much of my endurance as it is of my legal knowledge. This entire exam, in a sense, has been a stripping away of the inessential. No more fretting, no more wondering - nothing but me and my opportunity to show just how much I want it.
One day more.
Tomorrow I will begin what I hope will be my last meeting ever with the California state bar examiners. After two long days, the third day is a test as much of my endurance as it is of my legal knowledge. This entire exam, in a sense, has been a stripping away of the inessential. No more fretting, no more wondering - nothing but me and my opportunity to show just how much I want it.
One day more.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Earthquake
Yikes.
One hour ago, LA had a 5.4 magnitude earthquake. No reports of major injury or damage have been reported as of yet, but it hit at 11:42am, i.e., during the third essay. The Captain and I are lucky to be in Oakland which is far, far away from LA, but our pal the Mad Dog is in LA and he's kinda jumpy overall. So we're feeling for our SoCal bar applicants today. Send them good thoughts - they need them more than the rest of us.
One hour ago, LA had a 5.4 magnitude earthquake. No reports of major injury or damage have been reported as of yet, but it hit at 11:42am, i.e., during the third essay. The Captain and I are lucky to be in Oakland which is far, far away from LA, but our pal the Mad Dog is in LA and he's kinda jumpy overall. So we're feeling for our SoCal bar applicants today. Send them good thoughts - they need them more than the rest of us.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Live-blogging the Captain's arrival
3:52PM PDT: The Captain finally - after two failed attempts where he actually got on planes and then had to get off - got a flight out of New York. According to delta.com, he's supposed to arrive in Salt Lake by 8:30PM MDT. Keep your fingers crossed that that happens because the last flight out of Salt Lake to Oakland is at 9:15PM MDT. One nice thing about delta.com is that they have a nifty flight tracker where you can see where the flight is along a map. Right now, he's somewhere above the Great Lakes.
As for me, I've been in Oakland nearly four hours but I have yet to do any studying. I have instead, among other things, watched a good portion of the late Prof. Pausch's "Last Lecture." (If you haven't seen it yet, it is worth a look. It's a bit long, so to fellow bar applicants I recommend watching it in portions.) As I watch it, I can't help but feel enormous, vicarious pride because Prof. Pausch also graduated from Brown and he seems never to have given up the fearless creativity and courage that so defined my undergraduate education. That inspires me. Even though creativity should not be on my agenda at the moment, I'm still excited for what lies beyond the next four days. There is a world of possibility out there and I cannot wait to be reacquainted with it.
In the meantime, time to start taking care of "the matter at hand."
6:29PM PDT: Delta Flight 141 is flying over Wyoming, which borders Utah. I just checked the weather forecast, however, and there are rainstorms over Salt Lake so don't get your hopes up. As for me, I'm still tired and cranky.
7:35PM PDT: He's touched down in Salt Lake! Even better, he was seated in business class so he got to have dinner. That's good because there's not much for food at the motel. Small victories.
8:29PM PDT: His flight from Salt Lake has taken off! Cautious optimism, people. As an illustrative analogy: it's the top of the eighth at Fenway and the Sox are up 9-2. Xavier Nady just hit into a double play. But are we going to call it a game? NO.
8:45PM PDT: Top of the ninth, Timlin on the mound. Now we can call it a game.
10:15PM PDT: LANDED!!! He will be arriving to the motel shortly. Thank goodness. And good night.
As for me, I've been in Oakland nearly four hours but I have yet to do any studying. I have instead, among other things, watched a good portion of the late Prof. Pausch's "Last Lecture." (If you haven't seen it yet, it is worth a look. It's a bit long, so to fellow bar applicants I recommend watching it in portions.) As I watch it, I can't help but feel enormous, vicarious pride because Prof. Pausch also graduated from Brown and he seems never to have given up the fearless creativity and courage that so defined my undergraduate education. That inspires me. Even though creativity should not be on my agenda at the moment, I'm still excited for what lies beyond the next four days. There is a world of possibility out there and I cannot wait to be reacquainted with it.
In the meantime, time to start taking care of "the matter at hand."
6:29PM PDT: Delta Flight 141 is flying over Wyoming, which borders Utah. I just checked the weather forecast, however, and there are rainstorms over Salt Lake so don't get your hopes up. As for me, I'm still tired and cranky.
7:35PM PDT: He's touched down in Salt Lake! Even better, he was seated in business class so he got to have dinner. That's good because there's not much for food at the motel. Small victories.
8:29PM PDT: His flight from Salt Lake has taken off! Cautious optimism, people. As an illustrative analogy: it's the top of the eighth at Fenway and the Sox are up 9-2. Xavier Nady just hit into a double play. But are we going to call it a game? NO.
8:45PM PDT: Top of the ninth, Timlin on the mound. Now we can call it a game.
10:15PM PDT: LANDED!!! He will be arriving to the motel shortly. Thank goodness. And good night.
Mnfsouyre - UPDATED, again!
It is 5:11am. I am at my gate at Logan and already people are yakking away on their cellphones. At FIVE IN THE MORNING. What could people possibly have to talk about at five in the morning? Even with the 24 hour news cycle, it's Sunday. There aren't any markets open, anywhere.
(As you can see, I am thrilled to be up at this hour on my way to the bar. My flight doesn't even board for another hour and a half. Usually I'd blame the Captain and how he's inherited his father's 'Get to the airport eight hours in advance' gene, but this time I can't lay the blame on genetics. No, I lay the blame on a cab company that actually showed up when we called them, a highway completely free of traffic, a checked bag that came in just under the weight limit, and a security check that I'm not sure even happened it was so fast. Who knew.)
And so begins the end. When I got up this morning I looked at my BarBri books and thought, "How weird it will be to come home and throw all these out." Because everyday for the last three, arguably four, years has led up to this. Three years, $140,000, the same five pounds gained and lost and gained (and hopefully lost) again - it's all led up to this exam.
Bring it.
UPDATE: And we're off to a fantastic start. After I spilled Dunkin' Donuts all down my front I went to the bathroom to try to mitigate the damages. Now I have a huge wet spot in the middle of my chest. That's cool.
UPDATED, AGAIN! I am in Oakland! But the Captain is not. We didn't get the same flight out here because of logistical reasons, and somehow my flight made it out of Boston just fine but his had some trouble. So he missed his connection when he got to New York, and there he is still even after numerous attempts to get him to California. We're hoping he'll make it to Oakland by this evening, but even if he doesn't, there's still all day tomorrow. It's a big cramp in the studying, but snafus such as this are why we planned to get here two days in advance, anyway.
Nice to see things are going to plan.
(As you can see, I am thrilled to be up at this hour on my way to the bar. My flight doesn't even board for another hour and a half. Usually I'd blame the Captain and how he's inherited his father's 'Get to the airport eight hours in advance' gene, but this time I can't lay the blame on genetics. No, I lay the blame on a cab company that actually showed up when we called them, a highway completely free of traffic, a checked bag that came in just under the weight limit, and a security check that I'm not sure even happened it was so fast. Who knew.)
And so begins the end. When I got up this morning I looked at my BarBri books and thought, "How weird it will be to come home and throw all these out." Because everyday for the last three, arguably four, years has led up to this. Three years, $140,000, the same five pounds gained and lost and gained (and hopefully lost) again - it's all led up to this exam.
Bring it.
UPDATE: And we're off to a fantastic start. After I spilled Dunkin' Donuts all down my front I went to the bathroom to try to mitigate the damages. Now I have a huge wet spot in the middle of my chest. That's cool.
UPDATED, AGAIN! I am in Oakland! But the Captain is not. We didn't get the same flight out here because of logistical reasons, and somehow my flight made it out of Boston just fine but his had some trouble. So he missed his connection when he got to New York, and there he is still even after numerous attempts to get him to California. We're hoping he'll make it to Oakland by this evening, but even if he doesn't, there's still all day tomorrow. It's a big cramp in the studying, but snafus such as this are why we planned to get here two days in advance, anyway.
Nice to see things are going to plan.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Long good-bye
Another long day of studying done. Check.
As I march inexorably, if reluctantly, towards July 29, I'm starting to notice that the BAR is not the only thing on my mind. Which is probably a good, even healthy thing. But the other things which occupy my mind aren't necessarily happy in and of themselves. Which leads to a lot of sublimated tension, anger, and anxiety. If you're wondering whether that means the Captain got another stressed out phone call today, the answer is yes.
Today I said good-bye to my friend the Elite Racer, one of my few remaining friends from my 1L section. She and her wife are taking off on their bar trip before I return from California, so today was the last time I'll get to see her for a while. She's staying in Boston, but I am not, and even though several of my friends already have moved away, today was another reminder that my time here is almost up.
Boston is my home. It didn't start out that way but it has, undeniably, become my home. Despite my aversion to driving and my failure to find a church, I still managed to carve out
an easy, familiar existence in this city of locals. The day after I graduated from law school, for instance, I stepped into one of my neighborhood cafes for breakfast. Even though I hadn't been there in months, the owner still recognized me, said hello, and then congratulated me on my graduation. I was astonished. He explained he had a friend in my class so he had attended the ceremony on her account, but once he was there he recognized me as one of his regular customers. We chatted for a bit more, but all the while I kept thinking, "Huh. I really do spend too much money in this place."
At least it was worth it. Which is pretty much all there needs to be said about law school, too. I recently recalled that I turned down a hefty scholarship to a school in Los Angeles because I couldn't imagine myself ever moving to southern California. (And because the Dean sent me a letter extolling the conservative, evangelical values of the school. That was the real deal-breaker, but the bit about not anticipating a move to Cali makes for a better story.) At any rate, southern California is exactly where I'm headed, three years and $140,000 in debt later.
For certain, law school made me cry a lot and doubt myself and wonder if I ever would be confident in my abilities again, but still I regret nothing. I met the Captain, I made extraordinary friends, and I found that I was capable of clawing my way out of all sorts of despair.[FN1] There is value in that, and perhaps that is why I am so loathe to leave this town. This is the town where I discovered that growth still occurs, even in your mid- to late twenties, and, lo, how beautiful that new perspective can be.
------
FN1. At this point I acknowledge that I exaggerate. Anyone who has lined up a cushy firm job in San Diego is, by rights, not a failure. But having made it this far by working, working, always working for perfection, I find the mindset tough to break.
As I march inexorably, if reluctantly, towards July 29, I'm starting to notice that the BAR is not the only thing on my mind. Which is probably a good, even healthy thing. But the other things which occupy my mind aren't necessarily happy in and of themselves. Which leads to a lot of sublimated tension, anger, and anxiety. If you're wondering whether that means the Captain got another stressed out phone call today, the answer is yes.
Today I said good-bye to my friend the Elite Racer, one of my few remaining friends from my 1L section. She and her wife are taking off on their bar trip before I return from California, so today was the last time I'll get to see her for a while. She's staying in Boston, but I am not, and even though several of my friends already have moved away, today was another reminder that my time here is almost up.
Boston is my home. It didn't start out that way but it has, undeniably, become my home. Despite my aversion to driving and my failure to find a church, I still managed to carve out
an easy, familiar existence in this city of locals. The day after I graduated from law school, for instance, I stepped into one of my neighborhood cafes for breakfast. Even though I hadn't been there in months, the owner still recognized me, said hello, and then congratulated me on my graduation. I was astonished. He explained he had a friend in my class so he had attended the ceremony on her account, but once he was there he recognized me as one of his regular customers. We chatted for a bit more, but all the while I kept thinking, "Huh. I really do spend too much money in this place."
At least it was worth it. Which is pretty much all there needs to be said about law school, too. I recently recalled that I turned down a hefty scholarship to a school in Los Angeles because I couldn't imagine myself ever moving to southern California. (And because the Dean sent me a letter extolling the conservative, evangelical values of the school. That was the real deal-breaker, but the bit about not anticipating a move to Cali makes for a better story.) At any rate, southern California is exactly where I'm headed, three years and $140,000 in debt later.
For certain, law school made me cry a lot and doubt myself and wonder if I ever would be confident in my abilities again, but still I regret nothing. I met the Captain, I made extraordinary friends, and I found that I was capable of clawing my way out of all sorts of despair.[FN1] There is value in that, and perhaps that is why I am so loathe to leave this town. This is the town where I discovered that growth still occurs, even in your mid- to late twenties, and, lo, how beautiful that new perspective can be.
------
FN1. At this point I acknowledge that I exaggerate. Anyone who has lined up a cushy firm job in San Diego is, by rights, not a failure. But having made it this far by working, working, always working for perfection, I find the mindset tough to break.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Progress
No, not in the bar exam sense, but in the recovery of my identity sense.
As some of you recall, somebody stole my identity and caused me great vexation. In April, the IRS told me I'd get my tax refund by June. In June, they told me they needed authentication from me, even though I'd already sent that authentication in April. Seeing that the IRS was not going to help me unless I helped myself, I declared Wednesdays to be "Call the IRS Day." (And after the bar, EVERY EFFING DAY WILL BE 'CALL THE IRS DAY.')
Anyway, it is July 23, and I now have a caseworker to follow up with. I hadn't been able to follow up with her before because she hadn't been assigned to the case until last Friday.
Whatever. She and I are going to be good friends.
As some of you recall, somebody stole my identity and caused me great vexation. In April, the IRS told me I'd get my tax refund by June. In June, they told me they needed authentication from me, even though I'd already sent that authentication in April. Seeing that the IRS was not going to help me unless I helped myself, I declared Wednesdays to be "Call the IRS Day." (And after the bar, EVERY EFFING DAY WILL BE 'CALL THE IRS DAY.')
Anyway, it is July 23, and I now have a caseworker to follow up with. I hadn't been able to follow up with her before because she hadn't been assigned to the case until last Friday.
Whatever. She and I are going to be good friends.
Monday, July 21, 2008
I shall not be moved
My senior year of high school, I was a peer group leader. Why I tried out for an activity usually reserved for the professionally popular (jocks, cheerleaders - i.e., NON-orchestra geeks) I don't know. But somehow I made the roster and found myself on a weekend training retreat somewhere in the woods of New Jersey. With the professionally popular.
One of our workshops was designed to show us how positive reinforcement can yield different results from negative reinforcement. (We were about to be trusted with fourteen year-olds - the school didn't want us making them cry.) The workshop leaders lay down a line of masking tape along the length of a room, and everyone else took a seat along the line, except for two volunteers. The volunteers took turns donning blindfolds and walking down the room, while trying to keep as close to the line on the floor as possible. For the first guy, everyone shouted words of encouragement, no matter if he was actually on the line or veering off into oblivion. For the second guy, the group shouted insults and words of...well, let's just say frustration.
As you probably have figured out, I was one of those brilliant, blindfolded volunteers. And as you also probably have figured out, I volunteered to be insulted. By the professionally popular. But even though I knew I was going to be insulted and that nobody actually meant all the horrible things they shouted at me, I still remember being confused and hurt as I walked down the room. But I also remember a tiny, tiny laser beam pointing me in the right direction, and an even tinier voice telling me to ignore the very loud yelling. And so I walked.
When I reached the end of the line, I took off my blindfold and was told that I had just beaten the positively reinforced volunteer by eleven steps (out of a total of thirteen). So not only did I totally frustrate the workshop, I also gave a big, imaginary middle finger to the professionally popular.
I remain proud.
But I still remember how conflicted I was as I walked down the line. Every bone in my body was telling me to give in and to give up, and that's exactly what I would have liked to have done. Instead I kept on walking. It was very confusing, this internal tug-of-war.
So as the days wind down to the bar, and as I grow more and more tired and sad, I'll have to remember that tiny little voice. I shall not be moved. Read entire post...
One of our workshops was designed to show us how positive reinforcement can yield different results from negative reinforcement. (We were about to be trusted with fourteen year-olds - the school didn't want us making them cry.) The workshop leaders lay down a line of masking tape along the length of a room, and everyone else took a seat along the line, except for two volunteers. The volunteers took turns donning blindfolds and walking down the room, while trying to keep as close to the line on the floor as possible. For the first guy, everyone shouted words of encouragement, no matter if he was actually on the line or veering off into oblivion. For the second guy, the group shouted insults and words of...well, let's just say frustration.
As you probably have figured out, I was one of those brilliant, blindfolded volunteers. And as you also probably have figured out, I volunteered to be insulted. By the professionally popular. But even though I knew I was going to be insulted and that nobody actually meant all the horrible things they shouted at me, I still remember being confused and hurt as I walked down the room. But I also remember a tiny, tiny laser beam pointing me in the right direction, and an even tinier voice telling me to ignore the very loud yelling. And so I walked.
When I reached the end of the line, I took off my blindfold and was told that I had just beaten the positively reinforced volunteer by eleven steps (out of a total of thirteen). So not only did I totally frustrate the workshop, I also gave a big, imaginary middle finger to the professionally popular.
I remain proud.
But I still remember how conflicted I was as I walked down the line. Every bone in my body was telling me to give in and to give up, and that's exactly what I would have liked to have done. Instead I kept on walking. It was very confusing, this internal tug-of-war.
So as the days wind down to the bar, and as I grow more and more tired and sad, I'll have to remember that tiny little voice. I shall not be moved. Read entire post...
Sunday, July 20, 2008
:-(
When my sister Schmoopy was writing her honors thesis at Stanford, she sent me and her boyfriend a picture of herself wearing a very sad face. The caption read, "This is how my thesis makes me feel."
If I weren't so paranoid about privacy (yes, I recognize the cognitive dissonance of 'privacy' on a blog), I'd post a similar photo of myself. My caption would read, "This is how the bar makes me feel."
Instead, I'll just say this: today I got so sick of studying and missing the Captain that I almost got in my car. But then I hopped on the T to go to the library. Where I continued to be sad.
If I weren't so paranoid about privacy (yes, I recognize the cognitive dissonance of 'privacy' on a blog), I'd post a similar photo of myself. My caption would read, "This is how the bar makes me feel."
Instead, I'll just say this: today I got so sick of studying and missing the Captain that I almost got in my car. But then I hopped on the T to go to the library. Where I continued to be sad.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Strategery
Today I had the pleasure of lunching with Ms. J, something we used to do almost everyday but not since we graduated. This happens when you've been banished across the river like I was, but thankfully I am no longer in exile. (In case you are wondering, no, we did not schedule a "fun" lunch. We were breaking between the morning and afternoon sessions of yet another simulated multistate exam.)
While we were eating I mentioned to her that I admired how she, a married woman, could balance her family life and her bar life so well. The Captain and I have "broken up" until the bar so we can devote more time to studying, but Ms. J doesn't have that option. Mr. J lives with her. She acknowledged that keeping the balance was a challenge, but she reminded me that she was lucky to have a husband to support her (i.e., do the cooking) while she studied.
It got me thinking about my friends' various coping strategies. Ms. J leans on Mr. J a little more. The Captain is broken up with me six days a week. Lawyer Mom took her one year-old, kissed her husband good-bye (I imagine) and shipped off to the homeland (New Jersey) so she could study undisturbed while her mother looked after the baby. And I...I cook.
I can't help it. Last week I loaded up on packaged meals from Trader Joe's just so I wouldn't have to cook, but after I sign off here I'm headed for the kitchen where I will make Mark Bittman's chilled avocado soup. I know I said I'd try to stop grocery shopping so much, but I'm an addict.
At least it's not drugs.
[And, I'm doing just fine after the simulated multistate. I scored my answers and I'm...not distraught. It's a start.]
UPDATED: The soup was...okay. I'm not over the moon about it. Serves me right for straying from my time-only-for-prepared-foods path.
While we were eating I mentioned to her that I admired how she, a married woman, could balance her family life and her bar life so well. The Captain and I have "broken up" until the bar so we can devote more time to studying, but Ms. J doesn't have that option. Mr. J lives with her. She acknowledged that keeping the balance was a challenge, but she reminded me that she was lucky to have a husband to support her (i.e., do the cooking) while she studied.
It got me thinking about my friends' various coping strategies. Ms. J leans on Mr. J a little more. The Captain is broken up with me six days a week. Lawyer Mom took her one year-old, kissed her husband good-bye (I imagine) and shipped off to the homeland (New Jersey) so she could study undisturbed while her mother looked after the baby. And I...I cook.
I can't help it. Last week I loaded up on packaged meals from Trader Joe's just so I wouldn't have to cook, but after I sign off here I'm headed for the kitchen where I will make Mark Bittman's chilled avocado soup. I know I said I'd try to stop grocery shopping so much, but I'm an addict.
At least it's not drugs.
[And, I'm doing just fine after the simulated multistate. I scored my answers and I'm...not distraught. It's a start.]
UPDATED: The soup was...okay. I'm not over the moon about it. Serves me right for straying from my time-only-for-prepared-foods path.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Serenity now
...insanity later. (Ah, George.)
The Captain texted me Reinhold Niehbuhr's [FN1] serenity prayer this afternoon. This after I told him 1) it is possible, after all, to have road rage on the T, 2) BC's main campus was crawling with tourists, and 3) lots of F-bombs sprinkled throughout. The Captain's point is well-taken now, nine hours after the fact, but at the time I was in a sweaty frenzy. Waiting thirty-six minutes for the T in 90F weather will do that to a person.
But the truth is, the Captain is just naturally more serene than I ever will be. (Or maybe I need to go "defend our country's freedoms" in 140F heat like he did.) I have been counting only since yesterday, but so far I have called him while very upset everyday this week. Superstar he is, he has taken everything in stride. He is a very good sport. He's even anticipated future meltdowns by taking the tried-and-true route of procuring me sweets. Holding aside the threat of an expanded midsection, I cherish his care and aspire to his equanimity.
Big hugs.
---------
FN1. Yes, yes, I know the authorship is recently in dispute. I read The New York Times just like you.
UPDATE: The whoopie pies arrived today. If you look closely, that's a dozen delicious pies. Plus a card that says, "Happy PMBR!" I chuckle to myself when I imagine what the Whoopie people must have thought when writing that card. Probably thought it was some cute inside joke. Would that it were.
The Captain texted me Reinhold Niehbuhr's [FN1] serenity prayer this afternoon. This after I told him 1) it is possible, after all, to have road rage on the T, 2) BC's main campus was crawling with tourists, and 3) lots of F-bombs sprinkled throughout. The Captain's point is well-taken now, nine hours after the fact, but at the time I was in a sweaty frenzy. Waiting thirty-six minutes for the T in 90F weather will do that to a person.
But the truth is, the Captain is just naturally more serene than I ever will be. (Or maybe I need to go "defend our country's freedoms" in 140F heat like he did.) I have been counting only since yesterday, but so far I have called him while very upset everyday this week. Superstar he is, he has taken everything in stride. He is a very good sport. He's even anticipated future meltdowns by taking the tried-and-true route of procuring me sweets. Holding aside the threat of an expanded midsection, I cherish his care and aspire to his equanimity.
Big hugs.
---------
FN1. Yes, yes, I know the authorship is recently in dispute. I read The New York Times just like you.
UPDATE: The whoopie pies arrived today. If you look closely, that's a dozen delicious pies. Plus a card that says, "Happy PMBR!" I chuckle to myself when I imagine what the Whoopie people must have thought when writing that card. Probably thought it was some cute inside joke. Would that it were.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Nuts and Bolts
Per Mrs. Priest's request, here is a summary of what the bar exam is:
The exam is held twice a year in February and July, and it is held the same week across all fifty states. This year the July administration is 7/29-31/08. The exam varies in length between two and three days, but the vast majority of states have two days of testing. The first day is six hours of multiple choice questions (100 mults in the morning, 100 in the afternoon) which cover law that is common to the majority of the fifty states. Every state gives the same exact set of multiple choice questions. The second day is essays, the number of which varies from state to state. The essays cover state-specific law. (States also vary on which they give first, the essays or the mults, but more on that later.)
California, however, has decided to throw in a third day. Day One is three hours of essays in the morning, then three hours of what they call the Performance Test in the afternoon. The performance test does not test any substantive knowledge. Rather, the PT tests your ability to follow directions. This sounds easier than it is. You're given an assignment ranging from anything to "write a memo" to "draft a will" to submit to a fictitious supervising attorney. You're also given a set of facts and fictitious law to shape your answer. This can be tricky because the fictitious law you're given is not necessarily what the law is in the real world. So you could know a real rule but be told that it's the opposite rule on the PT. On the PT, you apply the fake rule despite what you've learned in law school and despite what you've filled your head with studying for the bar. What's even trickier is that very, very few law school graduates ever have done the things asked for on the PT. I, for one, never have had to draft an affidavit or a business contract, but the PT doesn't care. If affidavits are what they want, then affidavits are what I'll give, even though I've never even seen one. To date, California is the only state in the union that has a three-hour PT. Thirty other states also have a PT, but theirs are only 90 minutes each. Massachusetts does not have a PT, and I like to remind my MA friends about that.[FN1]
Anyway, back to the schedule. CA's Day One is essays and the PT, Day Two is the multiple choice, and Day Three is essays and the PT, just like Day One. What's interesting about Day Two is that every other state in the country is ALSO giving their multiple choice exams that very same day. Why? Because some people want to take two exams at once. (People do this. Really.) They can do this if the two states they've picked 1) give two-day exams, and 2) have test schedules such that the state-specific essay days don't coincide.
Here's an example: Start in NY, where you take the NY essays on the first day and the national mults on the second day. The night of the second day, drive to MA so you can take the MA essays on the third day. (Since you've already taken the national multiple choice questions in NY, you don't have to take them again in MA.) Again, this works out only if the two states you've picked don't hold their essay days on the same day. NY and MA do not hold their essays on the same day because, well, we have lots of crazy people up in here. MA and NJ do hold their essays on the same day, however, so if you want to practice in both states, you'll have to wait until the next time the test is held to take the exam.
Oddly enough, you would think this works only when the states are contiguous, too. Nuh-uh. Ms. J has told me of a student in her class who is taking the Florida essays on Day 1 and the national mults on Day 2, then flying up to Massachusetts for the MA essays on Day 3. I suppose some people just don't want to have to study for the bar more than once.
I respect that.
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FN1. MA does have to hand-write their exams, though. CA gets to type. Thank God. Read entire post...
The exam is held twice a year in February and July, and it is held the same week across all fifty states. This year the July administration is 7/29-31/08. The exam varies in length between two and three days, but the vast majority of states have two days of testing. The first day is six hours of multiple choice questions (100 mults in the morning, 100 in the afternoon) which cover law that is common to the majority of the fifty states. Every state gives the same exact set of multiple choice questions. The second day is essays, the number of which varies from state to state. The essays cover state-specific law. (States also vary on which they give first, the essays or the mults, but more on that later.)
California, however, has decided to throw in a third day. Day One is three hours of essays in the morning, then three hours of what they call the Performance Test in the afternoon. The performance test does not test any substantive knowledge. Rather, the PT tests your ability to follow directions. This sounds easier than it is. You're given an assignment ranging from anything to "write a memo" to "draft a will" to submit to a fictitious supervising attorney. You're also given a set of facts and fictitious law to shape your answer. This can be tricky because the fictitious law you're given is not necessarily what the law is in the real world. So you could know a real rule but be told that it's the opposite rule on the PT. On the PT, you apply the fake rule despite what you've learned in law school and despite what you've filled your head with studying for the bar. What's even trickier is that very, very few law school graduates ever have done the things asked for on the PT. I, for one, never have had to draft an affidavit or a business contract, but the PT doesn't care. If affidavits are what they want, then affidavits are what I'll give, even though I've never even seen one. To date, California is the only state in the union that has a three-hour PT. Thirty other states also have a PT, but theirs are only 90 minutes each. Massachusetts does not have a PT, and I like to remind my MA friends about that.[FN1]
Anyway, back to the schedule. CA's Day One is essays and the PT, Day Two is the multiple choice, and Day Three is essays and the PT, just like Day One. What's interesting about Day Two is that every other state in the country is ALSO giving their multiple choice exams that very same day. Why? Because some people want to take two exams at once. (People do this. Really.) They can do this if the two states they've picked 1) give two-day exams, and 2) have test schedules such that the state-specific essay days don't coincide.
Here's an example: Start in NY, where you take the NY essays on the first day and the national mults on the second day. The night of the second day, drive to MA so you can take the MA essays on the third day. (Since you've already taken the national multiple choice questions in NY, you don't have to take them again in MA.) Again, this works out only if the two states you've picked don't hold their essay days on the same day. NY and MA do not hold their essays on the same day because, well, we have lots of crazy people up in here. MA and NJ do hold their essays on the same day, however, so if you want to practice in both states, you'll have to wait until the next time the test is held to take the exam.
Oddly enough, you would think this works only when the states are contiguous, too. Nuh-uh. Ms. J has told me of a student in her class who is taking the Florida essays on Day 1 and the national mults on Day 2, then flying up to Massachusetts for the MA essays on Day 3. I suppose some people just don't want to have to study for the bar more than once.
I respect that.
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FN1. MA does have to hand-write their exams, though. CA gets to type. Thank God. Read entire post...
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Attitude
Last week I had the pleasure of actually seeing some of my friends at Mr. J's (Ms. J's husband) thirtieth birthday party. It was at this party that Ms. J informed me that Massachusetts BarBri isn't nearly as supportive of her class as California BarBri is mine, and that all of the various confidence boosters that BarBri's been feeding me are completely alien to her. I was surprised. Because my BarBri class makes a regular habit of reminding us that we're competent and that's all we need to be. (In fact I anticipate only more of that tomorrow, when Prof. Honigsberg, Superstar, delivers our lecture.)
Really? I asked. No apocryphal stories of just how little competence you need to show in order to pass? No reassurances that the bar exam is not that hard, none at all?
None, Ms. J replied.
So I concluded, naturally, that the California bar exam really IS that hard, because why else would BarBri be taking the time to psych us all up?
Holy. moly.
Really? I asked. No apocryphal stories of just how little competence you need to show in order to pass? No reassurances that the bar exam is not that hard, none at all?
None, Ms. J replied.
So I concluded, naturally, that the California bar exam really IS that hard, because why else would BarBri be taking the time to psych us all up?
Holy. moly.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Genius
Not too long ago, when BarBri canceled a class because of a bomb threat, the Captain wrote this devastating satire of a BarBri essay. It's finally up now that the Chronic Dabbler has helped me fiddle with the format. Thanks, Chronic Dabbler! Click on the link to read the entire post.
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Whether the cancellation of a BarBri session violates bar applicants' Constitutional rights.
BY THE CAPTAIN
Standing
In order to establish standing, plaintiff BarBri students must establish a cause in controversy, meaning there must be injury, causation, and redressability. Here, there is no issue of third party standing, generalized grievance, or mootness. Additionally, there is no issue of ripeness because the plaintiffs do not assert pre-enforcement review.
Rather, the BarBri student plaintiffs have standing because they have alleged an injury, namely prohibition from attending BarBri class, which will adversely impact their ability to pass the bar exam. Secondly, this injury is incontrovertibly caused by BarBri, which cancelled the class. Finally, there is redressability, because the court can order BarBri to reinstate the class. Thus, the plaintiffs have standing.
Plaintiffs' Case
Attending BarBri Class Is a First Amendment Right
The First Amendment protects the right to peacably assemble. Here, we have a group of bar applicants who seek to peacably assemble and discourse re: California bar exam essay techniques. The ability to gather and engage in such academic discourse is squarely within this First Amendment protection. Thus, any infringement of this right by a state actor is a violation of the BarBri students' rights.
BarBri is a State Actor
The protections of the First Amendment apply to the federal government and, through incorporation by the 14th Amendment, to the states. This includes certain private organizations that have become inextricably entangled with the government so as to provide a traditional government function. Here, BarBri is such state actor, entangled with the government, insofar as BarBri is the preeminent, and only, comprehensive bar examination preparation service. Because membership in the bar is a prerequisite to certain governmental functions, such as judge, prosecutor, Department of Justice Attorney, Attorney General, and the like, completion of the BarBri course is essentially a prerequisite to access for these necessary governmental functions. This is further bolstered by the extremely low bar passage rates among those applicants not taking BarBri, compared to the extremely high passage rates among those that do. Furthermore, BarBri has conceded that its classes set the standard of performance for passage of bar exams. Thus, BarBri has established itself as a state actor, likened to governmentally proffered civil servant exam training, because attendance at BarBri classes is a prerequisite for access to necessary government positions.
Cancelling BarBri Classes Infringes on Students' First Amendment Rights
BarBri Must Staisfy Intermediate Scrutiny
Having established that attendance at BarBri class falls under First Amendment protections, and that BarBri is a state actor prevented from infringing on these rights, it must be determined whether cancelling BarBri class infringes on these rights. In order to be constitutional, any infringement of the BarBri students' fundamental First Amendment rights must meet with intermediate scrutiny. This is because BarBri's cancelling of classes is essentially a content neutral time, place, and manner restriction in a limited public forum (BarBri did not ban a particular type of speech, but rather all speech, making the law content neutral. Futhermore, because BarBri controls the venue, and is a government actor, the Harvard campus is arguably a limited public forum). Therefore, intermediate scrutiny applies, and BarBri bears the burden of proof. Cancelling classes must therefore be substantially related to an important government purpose, and it must be narrowly tailored to meet the government's purpose.
Cancelling Classes in the Face of a Bomb Threat is an Important Government Purpose
Given the potential harm students would face from a terrorist act, BarBri has clearly sought to maintain students' safety by cancelling classes and removing them from potential harm. Protecting citizens from terrorist attack is clearly an important government purpose, and satisfies the first prong of intermediate scrutiny.
Cancelling Classes is Insufficiently Narrowly Tailored
BarBri is an enormously wealthy company with nearly unlimited means at its disposal. It controls every room of every law school campus in the nation from mid-May to mid-July. When it has advance notice of a terrorist threat against these facilities, it is easily able to reschedule classes at one of dozens of different locations, all easily accessible by the BarBri students. Thus, a blanket cancelling of classes is too broad. BarBri could, and should, have merely rescheduled the class, rather than infringing on the Plaintiffs' First Amendment rights. BarBri has therefore failed to meet the second prong of intermediate scrutiny, and its cancelling of classes is an unconstitutional infringement of Plaintiff's First Amendment rights.
BarBri Has Infringed on Plaintiff's First Amendment Rights
BarBri, through its actions, has infringed on the plaintiff's rights, because its actions do not meet with intermediate scrutiny.
Potential Other Causes of Action
Plaintiffs could consider an action for breach of contract. However, insofar as only one class was cancelled, BarBri would be able to raise the defense of substantial performance. Plaintiffs would have difficulty proving that missing one class in a series of essay preparation lectures amounts to anything other than substantial performance. Additionally, any damages beyond restitution for class tuition, such as lost future wages due to failing the bar exam, would be speculative and hard to prove, because Plaintiffs would have to demonstrate that missing the particular essay class actually caused them to fail the bar. Read entire post...
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Whether the cancellation of a BarBri session violates bar applicants' Constitutional rights.
BY THE CAPTAIN
Standing
In order to establish standing, plaintiff BarBri students must establish a cause in controversy, meaning there must be injury, causation, and redressability. Here, there is no issue of third party standing, generalized grievance, or mootness. Additionally, there is no issue of ripeness because the plaintiffs do not assert pre-enforcement review.
Rather, the BarBri student plaintiffs have standing because they have alleged an injury, namely prohibition from attending BarBri class, which will adversely impact their ability to pass the bar exam. Secondly, this injury is incontrovertibly caused by BarBri, which cancelled the class. Finally, there is redressability, because the court can order BarBri to reinstate the class. Thus, the plaintiffs have standing.
Plaintiffs' Case
Attending BarBri Class Is a First Amendment Right
The First Amendment protects the right to peacably assemble. Here, we have a group of bar applicants who seek to peacably assemble and discourse re: California bar exam essay techniques. The ability to gather and engage in such academic discourse is squarely within this First Amendment protection. Thus, any infringement of this right by a state actor is a violation of the BarBri students' rights.
BarBri is a State Actor
The protections of the First Amendment apply to the federal government and, through incorporation by the 14th Amendment, to the states. This includes certain private organizations that have become inextricably entangled with the government so as to provide a traditional government function. Here, BarBri is such state actor, entangled with the government, insofar as BarBri is the preeminent, and only, comprehensive bar examination preparation service. Because membership in the bar is a prerequisite to certain governmental functions, such as judge, prosecutor, Department of Justice Attorney, Attorney General, and the like, completion of the BarBri course is essentially a prerequisite to access for these necessary governmental functions. This is further bolstered by the extremely low bar passage rates among those applicants not taking BarBri, compared to the extremely high passage rates among those that do. Furthermore, BarBri has conceded that its classes set the standard of performance for passage of bar exams. Thus, BarBri has established itself as a state actor, likened to governmentally proffered civil servant exam training, because attendance at BarBri classes is a prerequisite for access to necessary government positions.
Cancelling BarBri Classes Infringes on Students' First Amendment Rights
BarBri Must Staisfy Intermediate Scrutiny
Having established that attendance at BarBri class falls under First Amendment protections, and that BarBri is a state actor prevented from infringing on these rights, it must be determined whether cancelling BarBri class infringes on these rights. In order to be constitutional, any infringement of the BarBri students' fundamental First Amendment rights must meet with intermediate scrutiny. This is because BarBri's cancelling of classes is essentially a content neutral time, place, and manner restriction in a limited public forum (BarBri did not ban a particular type of speech, but rather all speech, making the law content neutral. Futhermore, because BarBri controls the venue, and is a government actor, the Harvard campus is arguably a limited public forum). Therefore, intermediate scrutiny applies, and BarBri bears the burden of proof. Cancelling classes must therefore be substantially related to an important government purpose, and it must be narrowly tailored to meet the government's purpose.
Cancelling Classes in the Face of a Bomb Threat is an Important Government Purpose
Given the potential harm students would face from a terrorist act, BarBri has clearly sought to maintain students' safety by cancelling classes and removing them from potential harm. Protecting citizens from terrorist attack is clearly an important government purpose, and satisfies the first prong of intermediate scrutiny.
Cancelling Classes is Insufficiently Narrowly Tailored
BarBri is an enormously wealthy company with nearly unlimited means at its disposal. It controls every room of every law school campus in the nation from mid-May to mid-July. When it has advance notice of a terrorist threat against these facilities, it is easily able to reschedule classes at one of dozens of different locations, all easily accessible by the BarBri students. Thus, a blanket cancelling of classes is too broad. BarBri could, and should, have merely rescheduled the class, rather than infringing on the Plaintiffs' First Amendment rights. BarBri has therefore failed to meet the second prong of intermediate scrutiny, and its cancelling of classes is an unconstitutional infringement of Plaintiff's First Amendment rights.
BarBri Has Infringed on Plaintiff's First Amendment Rights
BarBri, through its actions, has infringed on the plaintiff's rights, because its actions do not meet with intermediate scrutiny.
Potential Other Causes of Action
Plaintiffs could consider an action for breach of contract. However, insofar as only one class was cancelled, BarBri would be able to raise the defense of substantial performance. Plaintiffs would have difficulty proving that missing one class in a series of essay preparation lectures amounts to anything other than substantial performance. Additionally, any damages beyond restitution for class tuition, such as lost future wages due to failing the bar exam, would be speculative and hard to prove, because Plaintiffs would have to demonstrate that missing the particular essay class actually caused them to fail the bar. Read entire post...
Issue spotter
A woman shoved me on the T this evening. I've become so mired in the bar that my first thought wasn't to tell her to keep her hands to herself or even to shove back.
No, my first thought was, "Harmful and offensive contact!"
Sigh.
Next time I'll stick up for myself. You should, too. She was wearing an ill-fitting top and could have used a good trip to the hair salon. And the therapist.
No, my first thought was, "Harmful and offensive contact!"
Sigh.
Next time I'll stick up for myself. You should, too. She was wearing an ill-fitting top and could have used a good trip to the hair salon. And the therapist.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Grammatical dishonesty
I can't, and won't, remember which rules of professional responsibility are "may not" and which rules are "must not."
So I plan to use "cannot" instead, if asked on an essay about professional responsibility.
It's professional responsibility, not linguistic responsibility.
So I plan to use "cannot" instead, if asked on an essay about professional responsibility.
It's professional responsibility, not linguistic responsibility.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Ungh
I don't know why I do this to myself. Just now I paged through the Boston Globe and read through the weekend section. (It was an aspirational thing.)
I was slapped in the face when the paper reminded me that not one but TWO of my favorite acts are on Cape Cod this weekend. Jenski had alerted me to this before, but I had looked away from her email at the time so as to pretend I'd never saw it. But see it I did. And how.
Despair.
This is what happens when you page through the weekend section. Don't. read. the. weekend. section.
I was slapped in the face when the paper reminded me that not one but TWO of my favorite acts are on Cape Cod this weekend. Jenski had alerted me to this before, but I had looked away from her email at the time so as to pretend I'd never saw it. But see it I did. And how.
Despair.
This is what happens when you page through the weekend section. Don't. read. the. weekend. section.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Coping
Once, when I was in my early 20s and couldn't find a job despite my brand-name credentials (and language skills, and gold-plated internships, and ...okay, time to let it go), my father told me I was being too hard on myself. I'll never forget what he said, "You don't need to be doing the best at everything. You just need to survive. Because life is ups and downs, and you need to be able to get through the downs."
And while I don't consider studying for the bar to be a down per se (because failing the bar and then having to retake it would be an unqualified down), I find myself relying on some coping mechanisms nonetheless.
Junk music. Everyday there's a new mainstream, commercial, mass media song on continuous loop. Today, "Beautiful Girls" by Sean Kingston. Why a song about suicide is soothing to me, I don't know, but it is. It also reminds me of last summer, when the San Diego radio stations would play it on near-continuous loop. I hear the chubby Jamaican today and then I'm back in my rental car, driving home from the gym on Friars Rd. (And the weather was perfect, without a drop of humidity, because it was San Diego, but of course I was far away from the Captain...)
Running. Nothing gets me happier than a good work-out and sore quads. Truly.
Farmers' markets. I need to stop, actually. My fridge is overflowing with produce, and try as I might, not even I can eat that much. Because my freezer's starting to burst with frozen leftovers and yes, produce that I have frozen properly myself. (Go big or go home, I always say.)
Blogging. Because I'm just that narcissistic. Seriously, though, I appreciate everyone who reads (all five of you) and I ponder everyday how to make my blog better. Should I dedicate it fully to the bar? If I do, should I write about how I've tried to tackle specific problems, or should I keep to writing about how I tackle my feelings and fears? Or is a themed blog a bad idea to begin with? Should this just be a running diary?
Ah, narcissism. The idea that anybody even cares.
Time for bed.
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EDITED TO ADD:
Likening myself to a vacuum cleaner mogul. James Dyson has a commercial (for his $500 vacuum cleaners) about how his designers and engineers are delighted everytime they fail at something in the laboratory, because that's another thing they've learned. I like to feel the same way every time I do practice questions: just another 18 questions I'll never get wrong again.
Doing my hair in the exact same way everyday. Robert Schumann (or was it Schubert?) once wrote his mother he was so poor he couldn't afford a haircut. I am not that poor, but I am that pressed for time. And as you probably can tell, I find routine comforting. My hair-iform, if you will, has become a long French braid. There is one thing about it, though. Classy though they might look, braids always have signaled 'surrender' to me. As in, the wearer gave up on regular hair maintenance and just decided to braid it. Like me. Whatever.
And while I don't consider studying for the bar to be a down per se (because failing the bar and then having to retake it would be an unqualified down), I find myself relying on some coping mechanisms nonetheless.
Junk music. Everyday there's a new mainstream, commercial, mass media song on continuous loop. Today, "Beautiful Girls" by Sean Kingston. Why a song about suicide is soothing to me, I don't know, but it is. It also reminds me of last summer, when the San Diego radio stations would play it on near-continuous loop. I hear the chubby Jamaican today and then I'm back in my rental car, driving home from the gym on Friars Rd. (And the weather was perfect, without a drop of humidity, because it was San Diego, but of course I was far away from the Captain...)
Running. Nothing gets me happier than a good work-out and sore quads. Truly.
Farmers' markets. I need to stop, actually. My fridge is overflowing with produce, and try as I might, not even I can eat that much. Because my freezer's starting to burst with frozen leftovers and yes, produce that I have frozen properly myself. (Go big or go home, I always say.)
Blogging. Because I'm just that narcissistic. Seriously, though, I appreciate everyone who reads (all five of you) and I ponder everyday how to make my blog better. Should I dedicate it fully to the bar? If I do, should I write about how I've tried to tackle specific problems, or should I keep to writing about how I tackle my feelings and fears? Or is a themed blog a bad idea to begin with? Should this just be a running diary?
Ah, narcissism. The idea that anybody even cares.
Time for bed.
-----------
EDITED TO ADD:
Likening myself to a vacuum cleaner mogul. James Dyson has a commercial (for his $500 vacuum cleaners) about how his designers and engineers are delighted everytime they fail at something in the laboratory, because that's another thing they've learned. I like to feel the same way every time I do practice questions: just another 18 questions I'll never get wrong again.
Doing my hair in the exact same way everyday. Robert Schumann (or was it Schubert?) once wrote his mother he was so poor he couldn't afford a haircut. I am not that poor, but I am that pressed for time. And as you probably can tell, I find routine comforting. My hair-iform, if you will, has become a long French braid. There is one thing about it, though. Classy though they might look, braids always have signaled 'surrender' to me. As in, the wearer gave up on regular hair maintenance and just decided to braid it. Like me. Whatever.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Joy
There is no joy to the California bar. This I know.
So that is why I take what little joy I can get, wherever I can find it. The web is a good place (oh, not like that) because it reminds me that some people are bold enough to travel around the world and to film themselves dancing in a totally goofy, totally endearing way. I first saw "Dancing 2008" at Mrs. Priest's, but then I read about it today in the Times. Matt Harding might be my new hero.
Next to Joanne Chang, of course. She's my #1 hero. Because the kitchen is another place I find joy - tremendous joy, in fact. Today I took a page from Mark Bittman and made myself cold peanut noodles for dinner. The dish was so simple and so tasty (made with ingredients bought at my local farmers' market!), that I momentarily forgot about my vortex of worry. Fantastic.
So that is why I take what little joy I can get, wherever I can find it. The web is a good place (oh, not like that) because it reminds me that some people are bold enough to travel around the world and to film themselves dancing in a totally goofy, totally endearing way. I first saw "Dancing 2008" at Mrs. Priest's, but then I read about it today in the Times. Matt Harding might be my new hero.
Next to Joanne Chang, of course. She's my #1 hero. Because the kitchen is another place I find joy - tremendous joy, in fact. Today I took a page from Mark Bittman and made myself cold peanut noodles for dinner. The dish was so simple and so tasty (made with ingredients bought at my local farmers' market!), that I momentarily forgot about my vortex of worry. Fantastic.
Developments
Yes, there's a new look. I don't necessarily like it, but since my audience somehow expanded this weekend (I think my readers now total five), I figured I ought to dress up the place. Even though I'm not 100% sold on this new appearance, I'm exhausted at the moment so the look is good for now.
Today I decided that MBE stands for Most Burdensome Exercise. And I think that's all I need to say about that.
Because my big concern today was the California Performance Test. I submitted a practice test to BarBri last week and my grade came back...with room for improvement. I'm not surprised I did so poorly because I took it in a great rush and I did not leave myself much time for contemplation. Still, I remember thinking to myself when I took the exam, "WTF? What are they asking me here? This wasn't in the workshop! How the h--l am I supposed to answer this?!" So I don't know if any extra time would have helped. Later this evening I compared my answer to BarBri's sample answer and all I could think was, "Oh s--t."[FN1]
The sample answer had broken out issues I didn't consider to be separate issues (I thought they were components of a larger issue), so naturally I started fretting about my general ability to spot issues in the first place. Which ability was an overall concern for me in law school, where I didn't do as well as I had hoped, so of course I subsequently spiraled into a vortex of worry. Where I think I remain, because I'm not particularly optimistic at the moment.
Sigh.
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FN1. Up until now I've steered clear of swearing, but why be someone I'm not?
Today I decided that MBE stands for Most Burdensome Exercise. And I think that's all I need to say about that.
Because my big concern today was the California Performance Test. I submitted a practice test to BarBri last week and my grade came back...with room for improvement. I'm not surprised I did so poorly because I took it in a great rush and I did not leave myself much time for contemplation. Still, I remember thinking to myself when I took the exam, "WTF? What are they asking me here? This wasn't in the workshop! How the h--l am I supposed to answer this?!" So I don't know if any extra time would have helped. Later this evening I compared my answer to BarBri's sample answer and all I could think was, "Oh s--t."[FN1]
The sample answer had broken out issues I didn't consider to be separate issues (I thought they were components of a larger issue), so naturally I started fretting about my general ability to spot issues in the first place. Which ability was an overall concern for me in law school, where I didn't do as well as I had hoped, so of course I subsequently spiraled into a vortex of worry. Where I think I remain, because I'm not particularly optimistic at the moment.
Sigh.
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FN1. Up until now I've steered clear of swearing, but why be someone I'm not?
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Respect
Friends, I have a game for you.
Go to Google, and enter "did poorly on the simulated bar exam."
Scroll down. (Not too far.)
Read.
Go to Google, and enter "did poorly on the simulated bar exam."
Scroll down. (Not too far.)
Read.
Erratic behavior
Now that I'm taking the bus everywhere, I have been reminded that many, many people are mentally ill. Just this morning a fellow passenger, bedraggled and dirty, started talking to himself in a hurried, continuous manner.
I mention this because I wonder just how precarious anyone's mental health truly is. Studying for the California bar, which apparently has a 39% overall passage rate, will lead a person to do that - question her own sanity. I don't think I'm insane for having chosen to take the bar, but I do wonder how I will respond to the constant pressure and anxiety as the dreaded exam approaches. The first thing to go? Self-consciousness. Last night I emptied my trash in my underwear. Rather than go to the trouble of putting on a pair of shorts, I scurried out into the hall with my garbage, threw the bag into the hall trash, and scurried back to my apartment. Nobody saw me, and at least I scurried, but seriously - no shorts?!
A couple nights ago the Captain and I watched "A Lawyer Walks into a Bar," which is a documentary about six people who take the California bar. It frightened me enough to whip out the flash cards during the movie. Which is probably a good thing, so I thank my buddy Ms. J for recommending it to me.
Back to studying. With shorts.
I mention this because I wonder just how precarious anyone's mental health truly is. Studying for the California bar, which apparently has a 39% overall passage rate, will lead a person to do that - question her own sanity. I don't think I'm insane for having chosen to take the bar, but I do wonder how I will respond to the constant pressure and anxiety as the dreaded exam approaches. The first thing to go? Self-consciousness. Last night I emptied my trash in my underwear. Rather than go to the trouble of putting on a pair of shorts, I scurried out into the hall with my garbage, threw the bag into the hall trash, and scurried back to my apartment. Nobody saw me, and at least I scurried, but seriously - no shorts?!
A couple nights ago the Captain and I watched "A Lawyer Walks into a Bar," which is a documentary about six people who take the California bar. It frightened me enough to whip out the flash cards during the movie. Which is probably a good thing, so I thank my buddy Ms. J for recommending it to me.
Back to studying. With shorts.
Friday, July 4, 2008
More tips
For specific intent crimes:
Angelina saves children after freeing lovely Brad from fiery pink elephants.
Attempt, solicitation, conspiracy
Assault, first degree murder
Larceny, burglary
Forgery, false pretenses, embezzlement
Angelina saves children after freeing lovely Brad from fiery pink elephants.
Attempt, solicitation, conspiracy
Assault, first degree murder
Larceny, burglary
Forgery, false pretenses, embezzlement
Sold!
Only recently did I discover that my love was for sale, and that the price was cheap. I did not make this discovery until after my love had been snatched up by a savvy shopper, but I have been reminded about it over and over ever since.
Case in point: yesterday's simulated multi-state bar exam. Hundreds of nervous test-takers were crowded, cattle-style, into a large conference room at the Boston World Trade Center.[FN1] The test conditions so threw me for a loop I couldn't calm down; I'm certain I did poorly on the morning session. (I haven't checked my answers.)
After the lunch break, however, I returned to my seat to find a small, white cardboard box perched on top of my books. The sticker read...flour bakery. The Captain had gone out during our lunch break and gotten me one of their legendary, heaven-sent Sticky Buns.
We'd heard lots and lots about these buns, but we'd never been able to have any because the bakery's always sold out of them, usually by mid-morning. Through some miracle there was one left at mid-day, and the Captain got one for us to share. And it truly lived up to its hype. My teeth sank into a pillow of butter, sugar, and gooey, gooey caramel.
I was in a much better mood for the afternoon session.
Sold.
------
FN1. As a former New Yorker, I have trouble saying that name aloud.
Case in point: yesterday's simulated multi-state bar exam. Hundreds of nervous test-takers were crowded, cattle-style, into a large conference room at the Boston World Trade Center.[FN1] The test conditions so threw me for a loop I couldn't calm down; I'm certain I did poorly on the morning session. (I haven't checked my answers.)
After the lunch break, however, I returned to my seat to find a small, white cardboard box perched on top of my books. The sticker read...flour bakery. The Captain had gone out during our lunch break and gotten me one of their legendary, heaven-sent Sticky Buns.
We'd heard lots and lots about these buns, but we'd never been able to have any because the bakery's always sold out of them, usually by mid-morning. Through some miracle there was one left at mid-day, and the Captain got one for us to share. And it truly lived up to its hype. My teeth sank into a pillow of butter, sugar, and gooey, gooey caramel.
I was in a much better mood for the afternoon session.
Sold.
------
FN1. As a former New Yorker, I have trouble saying that name aloud.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Irrationality
I am stressed out.
I am stressed out about a fake test that I am taking tomorrow alongside hundreds of other students just like me, who themselves are probably just as stressed. At some level I know my stress is irrational because 1) the test is fake, and 2) even if it weren't, my stress would do me no good.
Still, I fret. I dread the moment when I run across a swath of questions having to do with areas of the law that I have not yet reviewed.
And then I'll think to myself, "AH! Why didn't I study more?! My friends aren't like this! My friends all studied as much and as hard as they should have studied! Why can't I be more like them? I'm going to fail the California bar!!!"
(Maybe it's time for bed.)
I am stressed out about a fake test that I am taking tomorrow alongside hundreds of other students just like me, who themselves are probably just as stressed. At some level I know my stress is irrational because 1) the test is fake, and 2) even if it weren't, my stress would do me no good.
Still, I fret. I dread the moment when I run across a swath of questions having to do with areas of the law that I have not yet reviewed.
And then I'll think to myself, "AH! Why didn't I study more?! My friends aren't like this! My friends all studied as much and as hard as they should have studied! Why can't I be more like them? I'm going to fail the California bar!!!"
(Maybe it's time for bed.)
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