T Minus 23 Hours and Counting

Do a Google search of, say, "bar exam" and neurotic and you will find scores of bulletin boards, blogs, and web sites full of pitiful, scared recent law school graduates. They are all agonizing -- did you really study the 9-12 hours a day Barbri recommends for the final two weeks before the bar? How many practice Multiple choice questions have you done -- 500, 800, 2000? They are swapping mnemonics like baseball cards and comparing strategies for completely eliminating any need to urinate for three straight days. Now, it's very clear to me that law school, and thus the profession, attracts more than its fair share of obsessive compulsive neurotics and insecure twits who can only reassure themselves of their self worth by telling everyone they meet their scores on every standardized test they have ever taken. You can imagine then, how people of this sort must respond to the prospect of an exam like the bar. It's not pretty.

I would like to say that I am immune to all the craziness, but I must admit that I am, quite frankly, scared. Starting tomorrow, I will be expected to display stunning prowess (well, really about 65% prowess) in fifteen different legal subjects, each of which have been in development in our common law system for decades, if not centuries. Generations of lawyers and judges and legislatures have had years and years to cook all this shit up and I have had two months to digest it all. (Many of you may be confused by the last statement -- "Why," you may say, "you have just completed three years of law school." Take a moment now to disabuse yourself of the idea that law school prepares individuals for anything remotely related to the bar exam. Don't ask why, just do it.) I dare not predict today whether my strategies and studies have paid off, but a strange sense of serenity has descended upon me. There's little else I can do at this point, and so I am mindlessly reproducing all my memorization lists over and over again and watching tv. By the next time you are likely to hear from me in this medium again, my personality will have returned and I will be back to my normal, non-law spewing self.

Ride On, Lance!

A couple of years ago, I acquired a shiny, sleek blue road bike and swore to myself that I would ride it religiously. Alas, apparently the self-discipline that has allowed me acquire a college degree and two post-graduate degrees has not translated into a driving desire to subject myself to the rigors of physical training. The bike has been particularly neglected in my fun summer of eye-crossing multiple choice questions and endless outlining of bar essays.

Nonetheless, the Tour de France is the background music of my studies every morning, continuing my obsession of the previous two summers. Barring some sort of terrible tragedy Lance has this year's Tour wrapped up, but his imminent retirement begs the question -- who will take over the throne. Here, my friends, are my humble and ill-informed predictions. First of all, Team Discovery will continue to dominate. Many have already anointed Yaroslav Popovych as the heir apparent, but Paolo Savoldelli offered a reminder yesterday that he is already a champion. Plus there are tantalizing rumors that plucky Alexandre Vinokourov is fed up with T-Mobile's surplus of chefs in the kitchen and has eyes only for Discovery. Among other teams, CSC's Ivan Basso will not be going away anytime soon and though he suffered a spectacular flame-out this year, I know in my heart of hearts that Dave Zabriskie is going to be HUGE -- plus, he's just a real cutie, what with all that indecipherable muttering in his interviews. It's all an act folks, he really is literate. Finally, you have to talk about Jan. Poor Jan Ulrich; he's had his best years usurped by the Armstrong Express. Unfortunately, Lance's absence will hurt Jan more than it will help. Lance has always been Jan's proverbial mechanical bunny on the dog track and he seems just a little too happy to be good but not the best. Jan is a fabulous rider, but hungry he is not.

Ok, I will not write again about a topic of so little interest to the masses, but check back this time next year to see if my predictions were on the mark. Maybe I'll tank everything and go get a job working for OLN.

So it begins

Thus proving that no task is too big or too scary to completely eliminate procrastination, I have chosen this day -- five days until the bar examination -- to take up a new hobby of blogging. I have never been a good journaler, so this may be a short-lived experiment. And maybe the last thing the world needs is another random person taking up server space with tales of her probably less than exciting life, but hey -- what the hell!

Presently I'm laying in a prone position on my couch because I fell down our basement stairs while doing laundry last week. Not sexy, I know, but the bruising is muy impressive as is the new form of my left foot and ankle, which somewhat resembles some sort of club topped off with five fat little sausages. Despite an hour or so of hysterics, all is fine, but the swelling refuses to go down and I'm having nightmares of how fat my newly acquired cankle will be next week after sitting in 6 hours of examination. Not pretty, I think.

Speaking of the bar exam, I must return to my studies. Wills and estates are gently calling my name.