Wow, April (and also May)

Sorry for the extended writing absence. Even now I should be doing research and not writing but I'm sort of exhausted and my brain is in over-drive so here I am. A LOT has been going on. (And I started writing this post weeks ago and of course didn't finish so forgive the back tracking and then rambling as well.)

La Vie

Man, I really suck at posting anymore, huh? About a year ago I was like, "I'm gonna write ALL THE TIME! And, like, dedicate myself to this and be on top of it! And get good!" The gods laughed at my plans and I think I did the opposite.

On the other hand, you should thank me for not just sprouting bs for the sake of sprouting bs. I could do that, but then it would diminish the value of this...free service that I provide that is most of the time me shouting into the ether.

Anyway, updates! List form!

Sorry!

Much like TK wrote yesterday, I got chided by my stepsis for not writing more. Hey! People notice when I don't write! What? Now I feel special.

Lawyerin'

I get a seemingly endless stream of emails from the ABA, most of which languish in my in box or I delete without a second thought. Tonight, however, one came through and the subject caught my attention:

Law Grad Pays $114K Debt with Sack of Cash

So I clicked on the link to see what kind of absurdity lay within.

A 2009 University of Toronto law graduate apparently made enough money at a venture capitalist firm to pay off his remaining $114,000 law school debt with just one payment—and he did it with cash.
Alex Kenjeev tells the Business Insider he was trying to be funny rather than make a point. "It was stressful enough to carry such a big debt load,” he said. “I thought it would be worth getting a few laughs out of it.”
Kenjeev says the process was cumbersome, and the banks didn’t share his sense of humor. At first, the Royal Bank of Canada balked at Kenjeev’s request to withdraw the money, then required him to wait three days, he tells the Business Insider. When the money was released, he stuffed it in a canvas bag and walked two blocks to pay off his loan at Scotiabank.
It took two-and-a-half hours for tellers to count the money and complete the transaction. "I didn't really realize how much of a hassle I'd cause for everybody,” he said.

My brain immediately started doing that exploding thing. Oh you've motherfucking got to be kidding me! You paid your ENTIRE debt off and thought it'd be so funny if you did so in cash? This kid deserves to be punched in the face. Repeatedly.

A vast majority of us law grads who made the unwise decision to get overly educated are carrying a similar debt burden. One that we struggle to pay and that will affect us far into our futures and a lot of the decisions about what we would like to be doing with our life. This kid was lucky enough, and yes, likely worked hard enough (in goddamn venture capitalism) to not be under such a similar strain and he made a JOKE out of it?

All I got to say to that is: !@#$%^&*(!@#$%^&*

Actually, I've got more: I prescribe to the Hank Aaron school of, "Act like you've been there before." Hank didn't watch his home runs because it's show boaty and awful but he also thought you should act like you've been there before. And that you'll be there again. I'm not one for gloating, show off behavior. I find it abhorrent and for all my flaws, braggadocio is not one of them. (Which is why I have a hard time marketing myself and getting a job and blah blah but that's another story...) The watching of home runs is why I couldn't stand Barry Bonds and his ten second admiration of every goddamn one he ever hit (and he's a pretty awful human being but that's also a whole different rant).

What this kid did is the lawyer equivalent of watching his home run. You had the means, you did something pretty exceptional, you got a bit lucky and then you took it just a little too far. So yeah, a punch in the face seems deserved.

In other weird lawyer news: as mentioned, I get like 800 ABA emails a day. One of the areas of interest I have checked off is International Law. I like international law, I'm actually pretty good at it based solely on class work, and I find the problems that it presents interesting because it has far more of a global impact than just a US-centric take. Additionally, counter terrorism is an area of interest, I did quite the presentation on the topic in my International Law class and considering we're still fighting a billion dollar war that has to do with it, a pressing issue.

All that is preface for the fact that I got an email from the ABA about a counter terrorism roundtable. It was also "complimentary". Sounds interesting, I still like learning stuff, so, again, it was immediately opened instead of taking up space in my in box.

The body of the email was in the always laughable comic sans. I shit you not. An email touting a discussion on the issues of counter terrorism was in comic sans. Because death and destruction caused by non-government organizations and how to combat them is HI-LARIOUS!

And I'm the one out of work? Geezus h...

Sunny and Inside

For those of you who don't live in San Francisco, and haven't read everything I've ever written: our weather hovers around 60. With that comes a ton of fog. It's not the worst place to live, obviously, but I tend to thrive in absurd heat. I lived in South Louisiana for a few years and absolutely adore high heat with high humidity. Never have any doubt that I'm really weird.

Because of our coastal location next to a valley, we only get about 8 days a year that aren't 60 and foggy. A few weeks ago we got a thunderstorm and everyone was like, "WTF? What IS this? I don't even..." (TK killed it writing about the thunderstorm.) Our weather is consistent: 60, foggy.

This weekend we've got sun. And warmth. Lots of sun and warmth.


None of which I am out actually enjoying.

Oh you kids and the bar exam!

I couldn't figure out why my stats were going haywire when I hadn't bothered to post anything in awhile. Then I realized that all those kids taking the bar were freaking out and apparently I'm a bit of an authority on the topic. (I also did this when I was studying the second time. Rereading that was like seeing the insane writing on the walls of a schizophrenic's room. Bar study is AWESOME.)

So to all you kids finding your way here because you just took the bar exam: calm yo'self. (I say that to my little dog all the time, when she gets riled up. It's said in the voice of Donna & Tom saying "Treat yo'self".)

I'm not religious, more spiritual if anything, but a friend said to me when I was in that long period of waiting for results, "Oh, it's in GOD'S hands now." She was half joking (she's Southern; it's a thing) but she was right. You did, hopefully, all that you could do on those test days. There is nothing else you can do now. It's out of your hands. It's in God's.

Actually it's in the hands of disgruntled associates grading your essays on mass transit or with a glass of wine after a long day, paying 30 seconds of attention to your essays to see if you hit the major points. But still: not in your hands. So go enjoy life and know that whatever the result come the day you find out, you'll survive.

Using The Phone

I called fancy lawyer dude. He was nice. His firm, from what I read on their website, brings in serious money. (Class action suits. Getting $300 million judgments. Class action attorneys usually get a third, yes, a third, of that. Dolla dolla bills y'all.)

While I was busy freaking out about the whole omg talking on the phone thing, I IMed the long distance friend and was like, "Hey, I need your help." She talked me through it. We talked about our mutual foot dragging reluctance to do anything. That actually sort of takes care of one issue: people being there when you need them. I was grateful for that. Truly.

Anyway, he was very pleasant though confused at first thinking I worked at fancy department store and wasn't calling on the sale girl's recommendation. Once we cleared that up, we chatted briefly and then he said the best bet was to get together and talk. Which I was sort of expecting, this is how these things go. So we're set to meet next week and chat about god knows what. But it'll give me a reason to get fancy and go downtown, so there's that. 

I ran a couple errands after I finally sucked it up and called him, and downed a glass of Dr Pepper because I'd earned that (and it's in the house which means I can't resist because I am a weak willed human). When I returned from my errands, it dawned on me that he didn't have any of my contact information. If something changes, he won't be able to alert me. D'oh. 

I IMed the friend again and said, "Hey, I'm supposed to send one of those follow up emails, huh? One of those 'thanks for taking the time blah blah blah see you next week, here's my info' emails?" Yes, she replies. I'm really bad at this stuff. This is why I need a nice safe job where I can be clueless without too much harm coming to others. Or someone to just hold my hand and do it for me. (Not really, I'll survive on my own. There's just a lot more whining involved that way.) 

Point is: I used the phone, I have an informational interview, I didn't make too big of an idiot out of myself, the world did not end. 

Now to look forward to the next thing where I lose it...

Faking It

I'm supposed to call a big important lawyer dude tomorrow. I'm, predictably, freaking out about this.

Trying

Know how pretty much every story from every Saturday in football season goes, "Went to bar, got drunk, LSU won, met a boy, sooooo hungover"? Yeah. Not this one. Other than LSU winning, it was the opposite of all that. Suckeh suckeh sucks. Actually, just listen to this:

Avenue Q pretty much sums up my life right now. And not in a good way. I'm trying to be positive and have a "YAY! CAN DO!" attitude. People, you should know by now I am not made for that sort of sugar coated bullshit attitude. Which means there is a lot of complaining after the jump.

Ummm...

Shit. What do I have to say to you guys? That's lame, right? That I can't think of anything? I went to this MCLE thing on Saturday...

Wait.

MCLE means Mandatory Continuing Legal Education. Because paying an obscene amount of money to get a J.D. isn't enough, you are required to get 25 MCLE credits every three years to stay compliant with bar rules. MCLE credits can cost a ton of money. Like $500 for 3 credits in some instances. If you work at a firm, they usually pay for your CLEs (I think?). And I'm sure they are tax deductible as a business expense but I don't really know yet. ANYWAY. As they are expensive, my school was giving away 3 free to recent alumni. I had to take this offer. It just meant sacrificing my Saturday morning, in direct conflict of LSU playing (but it was only Kentucky which is a basketball school and thus should be an easy win though I never assume our wins will be easy (it was)...not that that kept me from whining incessantly on Twitter about missing the game), to earn them.

So I went and got 3 MCLE credits, that aren't even due 'til 2014 for me because of the group I am in, in how to be your best legal self. Or something. It was a lot of "network network network!" stuff. But some good actual information on what you could be doing as far as furthering your job search blah blah. And some silly, but helpful for me, visualization exercises. And I got to spend all morning with my law school friend Kelly and gossip so there are worse ways to spend time.

Part of that lecture was on blogging. Which, ya know, I kinda know what a blog is, thanks. (They were also really pushing linkedIn which...yeah, no.) But they did say that you should post consistently. Which is true. I can set my watch by when most of the bloggers I like will post. Me? Not so much. So I realized I hadn't posted in over a week and said nothing of value recently so I thought I should come here and post something even though I don't have much to say. Phew.

That was a really long explanation of why I am posting.

The news from here is that it is raining and I am sick. I gave up drinking from the Sunday after the West Virginia game until the Florida game. (Yes, we mark time in the fall by who the opponent is.) That was a mere two weeks of not drinking. As I should have known from undergrad, the second I take time off from drinking, my body goes, "Whoa whoa! WTF? Where's that boozeahol stuff we like? Mmm. Think we need to recharge. How about a cold then, to get back on track?" So I'm sick. And not happy about it. No going to the gym, lots of ramen eating and ginger ale, much bad TV. It's annoying. But at least I'm not missing sun. It's storming!

All I know is that this better freaking clear up (both my cold and the weather) by this weekend because in addition to a big, annoyingly scheduled day game matchup with the Florida Gators, it is fleet week. We'll call that my second favorite holiday. You should all be aware by now that my generally sane, rational, logical self (stop laughing. Stop it. I mean it!) loses her sanity in very few instances. The introduction of a large group of sailors, their ships and planes, into our fair city is one of them. The Blue Angels will buzz across the city, flying low across the bay, rattling buildings, and bars will be filled with guys on leave. Combine this with me drinking all the Abita (assuming I feel better) for a 1 p.m. kickoff and it should be a pretty great weekend. It is also Caps opening day, in what will be my first full season of hockey fandom, at 3 on Saturday. There is pretty much no reason, except for maybe getting food, for me to leave the LSU bar on Saturday. Except to go to other bars. I'm taking public transport that day. Not looking forward to a $40 cab ride back to the Sunset but better than the alternative consequences. Look at me! Being kinda sorta responsible!

Though really I'm most excited about the window rattling jets and hanging with my friends because the less idiotic things I do lately, the happier I am. Well, the less Sundays I spend doubled over in shame the happier I am, at the very least.

With that I'm gonna go chow down on Vitamin C, eat MORE ramen (since my favorite Chinese food joint, that was my go to place to feel better, closed 3 years ago and I'm STILL bitter about) and pound Dayquil. Or the generic Walgreens version of it because I am so broke. I have no idea what's in that stuff but it's magic.

Nothing of Note

I am soooo boring. (Don't you love when I hook you guys with opening lines like that? I imagine every Catholic school English teacher I ever had telling me to knock it off. (Hi, Mr. (redacted)!) (I imagined him with a google alert on his name, because he wrote a novel, and there's probably fiction about high school girls dating him out there, and that'd be embarrassing.))

(Oh! Aside! Bartender at the LSU bar when I was watching the also boring LSU/NSU game a few weeks ago, I ordered a drink and said "please" and "thank you", told me I was incredibly polite. I told him it was because of all the years of Catholic school but really it's the uptight mother who values our manners like whoa. Which is a good thing. I value them too.) (See! I'm not THAT boring. I was at a bar! With people! So cool!) (And now I'm really just fucking with you with the parentheticals. Cuz I am that bored.)

Anyway, not much going on in my world. Job searching sucks my soul. Do you know what I, J.D. holder, am qualified to do? Absolutely nothing! *insane laughter* No, seriously. They taught us NOTHING practical in law school, for which I curse them regularly, and I didn't do enough internships because I am a lazy slacker asshole and now I'm completely unemployable. SO. AWESOME! Guh. My law school sent out an email recently asking "Do you know anyone thinking about law school? Send 'em our way!" To which my classmates and I unanimously, across the internet went, "BUAHAHAHAHAHA. No." One of my favorite bar conversations lately is when people say, "I was thinking of law school!" I respond that in a lifetime of bad decisions that was easily the worst. Seriously. THE. WORST. Unless you have the grades to get into a Top 25 law school: DO NOT GO. I know, I sound bitter and insane and maybe in five years when I'm making money and my student loans are a minor afterthought and every job isn't in insurance, I'll tell you it's a fantastic idea. But for now? No. (Sorry, I know this applies to some of you and I know you'll follow your dreams and be content and I wish you all the luck in the world if you do go. But please don't. Do something else, ANYTHING else, instead.)

Other than that: I got a puppy and that's taking up a ton of my time. Somehow she has become my dog. My mom keeps referring to me as her mom. I never envisioned myself as a little dog person. I scoffed at people who owned ten pound dogs and referred to them as dogs. We've owned a husky, a golden retriever, an American Bulldog and pitbulls over the course of my life. The smallest dog we've ever owned is the one we have now and he's still a good 35 pounds. And yet I have a pocket sized dog. I'd throw a picture of her in here but she's a dark brindle and since the only camera I ever use is my crappy cell phone one, she just looks like a dark splotch. She's incredibly cute and her name is Maya. Her name was Zoe but we previously had a dog named that so it wasn't gonna fly. She's ten pounds and has an under bite and she is currently asleep ON the kitchen table between my arms as I'm typing. It takes all my will power not to buy her LSU clothes but I will be damned if I dress this dog. I'm thisclose to crazy dog person. It's not gonna be a big leap, either.

The first step in my ownership journey was that I named her. Do you want to know how I got to Maya? Do you!? This is how my brain works: she's a chihuahua/terrier mix. Chihuahua is a state in Mexico. The Mayans were also inhabitants of Mexico (though I realize not the same state). If you take off the n... Yep. That is how I named my ten pound nothing dog.

And now we're having a battle of the wills in the training her to go pee outside. The family that previously owned her have her mat trained. Which is great. She doesn't pee on the carpet. She also doesn't pee outside. Well, she does, just not ALL the time. I was whining to my mother the other day that I can't get anything done. By the time I walk the big dog and make sure the little dog gets some exercise, the day is half over. It's ridiculous. My mom says, "It's like having a baby!" "Yes. But I'm the one who never ever wanted a baby!" Do you think this is my mother's master plan to get me to change my mind on children? I doubt she's thinking that far ahead and if she was, this experience would not have had the desired effect but the opposite. I also think this is my mother's grand master plan to make sure I never move out. My dad today said, "You should move to my house." Well now I can't! Because the dog! Will someone come kick my ass out of neutral? Please? I'm begging you. It's necessary. (But do it gently because I bite back.)

The big dog is also being a clingy needy asshole because of the introduction of the little dog's adorableness and that is SO annoying. I get not wanting to be displaced (apparently when I was 13 months old and they brought my brother home, the first thing I did was slap him. I also got a shirt 3 Christmas's ago that declares "Not Mom's Favorite" so...) but seriously dude, you're 35 pounds, you can not climb up on to me.

The little dog also ate the power cord on my Mac while I was at the gym the other night.

It's been a fun couple of weeks. Which explains why I get stupid drunk and all escapist on football days. Huh.

And I just spent more words on my dogs than anyone likely cares about. Think we've solidified the crazy dog person thing. Gonna go do something not dog related now... Like look for more jobs.

Is it football day yet?

Ridiculous

I got sworn in as a lawyer. Which just seems freaking ridiculous. "Wait, you're gonna let ME practice law?" That's kinda stupid, right? I mean, me? I hope that doesn't ring of false modesty. You should know by now it's sincere modesty. But just in case, let's review the record:

Control

I was sort of a train wreck last week (yes, I can hear you all saying "Aren't you ALWAYS?" as I type that. Shut it). But last week it was particularly pronounced. I don't do well with things I can't control. And last week just seemed like everything was beyond me, out of my hands, up to the whims of fate, the universe, and other people. Gah. I then get all crazy trying to control the things that I can. The level of clean of my room. I retreat to the kitchen and bake things. I run a little bit further a little bit faster.

I also controlled how bar results were going to be disseminated to me. Results are published to people who took the bar via our personal special codes at 6 p.m. on Friday May 13th. Since I know that the computer check system is evil, I wanted no part of it. I wasn't going to be sitting at home staring at a computer screen to find out, maniacally punching in the codes over and over again if unsuccessful. Since I also know I have almost no will power, I didn't want to be near a computer/my house at that time. So I made arrangements to go see Bridesmaids. Cheryl and Alexis and I were going to meet at the Kabuki for the 5 p.m. showing. We would be in our seats, cell phones on silent, laughing when results came out, ignoring texts from everyone else. Prior to that, I took my ball of nerves self and went and got a mani/pedi. Can't afford it, didn't care. Was necessary.

Except even this movie going turned into a bit of an event and I started to panic a bit, control freak that I am. I don't know if I got it wrong or the time changed but I'm at the Kabuki at 4:15 and discover that the showing is at 4:35. Lex is on her way on public transport and Cheryl is still at her Marina house. AHHH! I just want to see a movie! I'm taking deep breaths, at the end of my rope. Cheryl and I talk, the movie starts at 5:00 at a different movie theater not far from where we are. Lex shows up, I grab her, we hightail it to other theater, we wait for Cheryl, we have a drink, we walk into the movie missing just the first 5 minutes or so which I don't think were pertinent to plot. (I am also a professional opener of wine bottles in movie theaters. Will be adding to resume.)

And OMG you guys, Bridesmaids is AWESOME. It's cute and sweet and super funny and was the first movie I think I've seen in forever where I was all, "Aww! This is stuff that could actually happen, how me and my friends actually talk and I am SO the Kristen Wiig character it's kinda freaking me out a bit."

After the movie, Cheryl and I head to her hood, grab a bite to eat. I'm anxious but I have a plan: I'm drinking 'til I don't care anymore. I see my brother across the street as we're walking into the restaurant and waive, he's working. He then calls me and I'm all, "What?" He says, "Never mind, I figured it out." I guess that I wasn't checking results. Cheryl and I head to fratty Marina bars after dinner and are just chatting and having fun. It's gonna be a long night. We pull up at our favorite stools at Bar None and that's the night. I get home late and am at that point too exhausted to check and just go to bed. I have successfully not been manipulated by a computer system.

I woke up on Saturday morning, half hungover and probably a little drunk still. I'm sitting in the kitchen getting increasingly anxious. I know about what time our mail comes every day. I can hear trucks rattling down the street. I'm doing my best not to see if it is the mail truck. I'm trying not to think too much about it. A lot of Thursday and Friday was coming to terms with what it means, pass or fail. Advice that I had given was given back to me. It won't define me as a person. It doesn't say anything about who I am. Regardless of results, it's time to start DOING something.

I'm chatting online with Andy and Linds. Lindsey and I are having an awesome conversation about how we bluff confidence/are complete procrastinators. An epic line told to me recently was, "You're the most confident insecure person I've ever met." Yep, that's about the sum of it.

I go look and see the mail truck in front of my house. I sit back down and tell them. I hear the mail go in the box downstairs. The dog goes nuts. Lindsey says, "OMG. What are we gonna do?" I heart that it was both of us. Andy says, "I'll love you as much if you have an Esq. behind your name as not. The people who matter will, too." Awwww. I tell Linds we're gonna face it, like the grown ups we pretend to be.

I go downstairs and grab the mail, come back upstairs, find the envelope I know will be there. It is the same thickness and shape as the fail letter. The CA Bar Examiners suck hard core. I open it. I see "Congratulations". That's about as far as I got. Congratulations. Fuck and yeah.

I think I was the perfect amount of half drunk/hungover to not be afraid of it. Just tore it open and what will be will be. After that it was pure adrenaline. I was shaking. For like the rest of the day. It occurred to me about an hour later that this means I never ever ever have to take this test again. That I won. I felt pretty invincible, even for being hungover, for the rest of the day. I can do ANYTHING, yo. (I still feel a little like that today. What's next!? Let's go climb a mountain!)

All the congratulations and well wishes were amazing. It feels like an actual accomplishment. A line in the sand, a demarcation point of being or not being something. And I am now that thing. I beat it. I won. It freaks me out a little to say it still. "I'm a lawyyyyaaa."

This is also the part where I thank everyone. Because but for all the support and friends and amazing people out there, this would mean nothing and wouldn't feel like such a huge accomplishment. So thanks, y'all!

I went to amazing dinner at the Bella Vista with my mom and Larry to celebrate and then drinks with the friends afterwards. One of the funniest moments for me was when Chuck said, "Just think, you could have been out celebratory drinking on Friday instead of nervous drinking!" Oh sweetie, you underestimate the level of my jinxy superstitiousness. How/when/where I check would change the outcome. Obviously.

So. Yeah. That. Next?

Bar Exam Debrief

All the gory details of the February California Bar Exam, in chronological order, as they happened, after the jump...

Tired

I don't want to whine. I really truly don't. It's annoying. It's frustrating. But imagine how annoying and frustrating it is to FEEL this way. So I will. Because if I don't I'm going to go more insane and I don't know how much more insanity is even possible. Because I'm flipping exhausted from trying to keep it together.

Like a duck

all calm up top and underneath churning like crazy.

Though: I don't think I've been the face of calmness. Or sanity. But mostly I hide it. I write, a lot. I poke fun at the insanity. I cover it in self deprecating humor. So just imagine this next however many paragraphs said in my gravely serious face, mkay?

Day 3: Irrational Anger

If 2 days ago was lay (lie?) sob on the floor panic day and yesterday was giddy happy because you can't cry anymore and belief in the zen of the universe then today is "I'm so angry I want to kick a puppy or punch a wall or throw something, I wish I wasn't too old to have a temper tantrum in the middle of the grocery store (even though I didn't even GO to a grocery store today)" day. We'll call these the stages of it being two weeks away from the bar exam.

I am an irrationally angry little monkey today. (Why an always an angry monkey? Because angry bunny doesn't have the same ring to it?) (Hey! We're back to an overuse of parentheticals. Awesome.)

I'm just...there aren't words. Just blind range. Example: I have this stainless camelback water bottle with a straw and for reasons beyond my understanding (probably physics) sometimes when I pop the top on the straw lid thing it just spits water everywhere. Today that led me to violently shaking the bottle 'til it stopped spitting water, but ending up with water drops all down my jeans, and then I tossed the bottle across the room. It's still there, on its side, on the floor. Totally rational response, right?

I got mad, irrationally of course, at the whole process today. For having to sit through a professional responsibility outline AGAIN. I say again because you take a class in PR with a final, you take the MPRE which is required by all states as a component of the bar, and then it's on the motherf*cking bar too. So this is the 3rd time I'm being forced to remind myself the basic rule is: Don't f*ck your clients, and don't f*ck your clients money. (Which isn't even the rule. In CA sleeping with your clients is totally legit so long as you're not bribing them with sex to be a good lawyer. Yay CA!) Let's point out the sheer oxymoronic-ness of LEGAL ETHICS while we're at it (oh, I make lawyer jokes too, folks).

I got angry that there was no dinner. That there is no food in this house despite the fact that I KEEP BUYING IT. That people can't replace the few things that I do buy after THEY eat them. I shoved Swedish fish in my face that I didn't even really want. I got angry that I wasn't even hungry to begin with so why did I care? I got angry that my mother wanted to talk to me. And then that she pointed out that I was cranky today. "Nooo. Really??? I hadn't noticed." (I didn't say that. I just said, "Yep" and she said,  "At least you recognize it.") Angry that the dog wanted to play. I want to claw my skin off. I want the Corp outline to stop saying "Unless agreed to otherwise or stated in the bylaws" after every expletive expletive expletive sentence! I want my Mac which is JUST pass warranty to stop running like a bitch. I should probably go run. But if I leave the house I fear this will lead to me running the car into something just out of the sheerest curiosity of what will happen.

So it's a banner day up in this bitch. AND I can't even force myself to angry study. Gritting my teeth, sighing through it, gonna be better tomorrow...

BUT! I have devised a post bar drinking game: I'm bringing the CMR to whatever bar I end up at on that Friday night and we're passing the book around and flipping to random pages. The page you land on? Have to drink as many times as the word reasonable appears (don't even get me started on how much I hate the word...meaningless word...reasonable). My bets are on everyone being black out drunk two hours after we start.

Oh. And even I realize that mostly I'm mad at myself for even having to do this again and for not even doing it particularly better this time than last time. I'm gonna go scream into my pillow.

Alcohol might be nice right about now...

Things we think when we study part deux

My bangs are an unmanageable mess because I was studying in the backyard earlier. I was wearing a visor. Like a lesbian lady golfer. (Redundancy) (Stereotypes) (Can we hashtag everywhere now? Is that allowable?)

The beach house remains forever my most absolutely favoritest place on the planet. It is made for solo dance parties with its open floor plan. And it has a giant pit bull. Who woke me up at 4 a.m. wanting to go outside, I know not why. He also cracked me up hysterically last night because I couldn't see him on the couch. Giant baby had somehow managed to wrap himself UNDER the blanket that's used to keep him not ON the couch and was struggling to get out from underneath it when I called him. Sooo cute.

I am eating fancy cheese (Lindsey: "I love fancy cheese!" Andy: "I don't care about your fancy cheese.") and salami on a sliced baguette. Add the Perrier I'm drinking and I feel decidedly French today. If only I was in the jardin du luxembourg... Sigh...(First world prooobllemmsssss)

I keep hitting certain phrases in my law study that they strike certain songs in my head. So here they are!

1. Currently I'm doing agency and I keep coming across "best interests". Best interests of the corporation...best interests of the director. As soon as I see "best interest" I get Suicidal Tendencies stuck in my head. "My best interests?! MY BEST INTERESTS!? How do you know what my best interests are?!" (Ah, I listened to this song a lot in high school. Catholic school, man, what can I say?)

2. When writing out rule statements, for sake of simplicity and because my special problems in civil procedure professor taught me to do this, I write, "The Rule Is..." This immediately makes me think of Chiddy Bang's Opposite of Adults where there is a line that says, "The rule is...the dude is...so up so chuck I'm a cool kid..."

3. Not really a song but: Sometimes I start answering things wrong in a row, or grip my pen with that death grip I have and I think "He's holding on too tight. He's lost his edge!" This is a line from Top Gun. (I can't find it on the youtubes. You should have the whole movie memorized anyway if we are any kind of friends.)

4. Dammit. There was another one but I can't remember it right now. Like how I can't remember anything about devising real property. At all. Ever.

*All quotes are likely paraphrased to how I remember them.

Andy IMed me "Here's your 'What would you do' of the day..." before even waiting for the scenario I respond "Drink heavily". Cracking myself up over here. But actually? I haven't had a drop of alcohol in a month and I kinda sorta love the clarity. I also haven't really left the house in that time either so reserve the right to change my mind. However, the control level is something I think I like for the long term and I would like to start having fun and being bold and ridiculous without also needing a heavy dose of liquid courage. That feels like a really grown up statement but, ya know, I guess I kinda am? (Guh.)

Also: I was just flipping through Equire and I seriously have not laughed out loud so hard at anything in awhile. Interviewer is talking to Scott Caan so you have to do this all in his voice. And he's asking him about how he can combine tortured artist with that he's doing a hugely popular, not all that complicated TV show now. Scott Caan at some point says, "Ya know, living in a one bedroom..." Interviewer says, "No offense, but have you ever had to live in a one-bedroom?" This is, after all, James Caan's son. And that's not even the part that made me laugh! It went like this:

Esquire: They do seem to have the fomula down: throw you guys in a weird situation, something crazy happens, and then your partner says, "Book 'im, Danno." 

Scott: Simplify it some more so I can jump out a window.

I'm just imagining this in his voice, all exasperated and annoyed and it is HYSTERICAL. I have also decided that when the time comes Scott Caan can play Brian Wilson in a movie about the '10 Giants.
Let's compare, shall we?

BRIAN WILSON (not the Beach Boy)

Scott Caan

I think that's close enough to count. Though, Bweezy could also do his own damn acting. 

And these are the random things we think when we are studying. Off to do more of it. Because the difference between an agency, a partnership, and a corporation is apparently REALLY important. *finger gun to head*

Freak Out

I'm in full on freak out mode over here. Panic has done set in.

The thought process of descent into insanity goes something like this "Omg! I can't do this! There is no way! This is impossible! OMG! OMG! OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! I'm just gonna slit my wrists because this is all fucking hopeless. (Do not alert authorities, it is hyperbole.) And I still don't even have a computer to TAKE the test on and is my hotel okay and booked on the right days? And is it really close? What am I gonna eat when in Sacramento? Doesn't matter! Not even hungry! Never eating again! Too much anxiety! ANXIETY! I'm just gonna pound 5 hour energies and Dr Pepper and handfuls of Crispix and stay awake for the next two weeks (TWO WEEKS!!!) straight! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" SO. MUCH. FUN.

I couldn't sleep last night and yet was still awake at 7:30 this morning, something, despite my best efforts, I could not overcome.

I figure I'll try something new this time: usually when I freak out I just pull the covers up over my head and pray it will all go away. It's not the most effective coping mechanism. (Nooo, really? You don't say!) (Insanity is also denoted by an overuse of my already overuse of parentheticals.) This time I'm gonna channel that anxiety into actual effort and work on studying.

In fact, when I couldn't sleep last night I fired up the computer and did multiple choice. I got 5 out of 5 right in crim. VICTORY! And then promptly sucked at real property and evidence (hearsay. I hate hearsay). Guhhh.

Related: I am leaving behind the tweets for the next two weeks (TWO WEEKS OMFG TWO WEEKS!) because no one, me included, wants to hear me whine about the bar. It's a distraction I don't need. Not that it matters. For serious. No one cares. Gawsh, Lisa. Enough already. But I felt compelled to mention it. (I follow all these sports writers who come Sunday night tweet about To Catch a Predator and I can't not read them but get sooo mad at myself for reading them. If only there were twitter filters where like you didn't see people when it's not football season. Anyway.) I will also be blogging with less frequency. Probably. Who knows.

The bar? It's bullshit. Everyone who has ever done it KNOWS it's bullshit. But. That doesn't make it avoidable. Or less scary. Or less evil. I am headed straight for it. Whhhhhheeeee!

Imma go study corporations now. With a raging sinus headache that makes me want to kill people. (Lovin' life today, oh yes, we are.)

I'll be back in three weeks after the bar. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

K

Today I promise to not write about hot boys or sports.

Instead: Bar study! Be careful what you may be wishing for (I have no idea, honestly). Wherein I look for a bright side because I am honestly for serious frustrated about not being outside right now or having a life. I'm over this sobriety monastic thing for the moment.