Frequent Citations

I Heard There Was A Campaign, But I'm Reading Property Outlines

I'm assuming the campaign will still be going after I take the Bar. If I have any brain cells left, I might be interested.

In the meantime, here is my favorite blog that I'm not looking at much these days. I don't care which candidate it favors (and it does favor one)--it's all about the numbers! It's got to be the geekiest political blog going, where people get all excited about new models and I don't mean cover girls.

You sort of get the impression that the creators and commenters are appreciative of these little campaigns we have from time to time that provide them with so many lovely data to play with.

Some of my data for you: 24 essay questions behind. Yeah, baby. Obviously I'm counting the essays assigned instead of writing them.

Deja Vu Again

I keep running into the same people, sometimes on purpose and sometimes by accident. They all have the same bleary-eyed and careworn look... yeah, former classmates.

I've run into them at coffee shops and on the bus, coming and going from class. And, of course, on a friend's patio where we gathered last night for drinks and commiseration. It's nice to keep seeing people for a little while before we scatter to the four corners.

We compare notes on bar exams, which states are covering which subjects, who's making flash cards, where people are studying. Sometimes we break out of the bar exam stranglehold on our lives and talk about clerkships and bar trips, or who's still looking for a place to live and have you sold your place yet? me neither.

We know each other so well in some ways, not at all in others.

Paranoia Is Contagious

The Fourth of July comes, and goes, and leaves in its wake massive paranoia in everyone studying for the bar. Used to be I felt alone in my panic and misery, but now I have lots of company.

Yet tomorrow we have friends coming over for dinner. I'm not cooking, but still--the evening will be wiped out once I sit down at the table. Then Wednesday night there's a get-together for those of us in town and around the neighborhood.

Saturday, though, TFL and GirlChild are going to see Lyle Lovett and leaving me all alone with my pile of books. Dagnabbit.

Has anyone gotten their ticket yet? I'm now panicking that maybe they didn't get everything that they need for my application and they won't let me sit for the bar. First I panic that I have to take the thing, then that they won't let me take it. Can't win.

In Which We Contemplate Paralysis

I have so much to learn for the bar exam, at any given time I have no idea what to study or how. I keep plugging my way through the study plan, trying to catch up and hoping the sheer torture of it will drill enough into my head that I'll pass. As I get issues (almost every single one) wrong on the essays, I make flashcards for the points of law I've missed. The stack is growing at an alarming rate.

Then there are all the things that need doing as part of regular life, and in preparation for moving. None of it is happening. This strikes me as problematic, maybe extremely problematic. 

So I made myself a cup of green tea. I'm going to call Boy, and then do multiple choice. Because life didn't hand me a study guide, but BarBri did.

Multiple Choice Extravaganza

Two hundred multiple choice questions in 6 hours, not including lunch. Yes, it's Pretend Test Day for the bar. Day 2 of 1 1/2, to be more precise.

At the end of the day I will be:

a) mush-for-brains

b) panicked

c) thirsty

d) all of the above

Bar Review Confessions

I have a confession to make. I don't hate studying for the bar as much as I should.

I mean, I don't love it the way I love chocolate or reading Homer, but it's not as bad as going to the dentist or eating bananas. It's kind of fun to be back to filling in circles and reciting black letter law without bothering to learn or relearn or think about much (if any) of the theory. Memorize the rule. Apply it to the facts. Watch out for the bar examiners' highly predictable tricks. And best of all: score just enough to pass.

Oh yes I am loving the whole pass/fail thing. Technically I guess we get a score but really--we just need to pass.

That said, all my time seems to be spent either studying or doing something on the house--packing, cleaning, selling stuff. Freaking out. Running errands. Freaking out some more. TFL is getting mighty sick of my demanding to know why the flat hasn't sold yet.

So I guess that compared to freaking out about the house, memorizing civil procedure for my new state doesn't seem so bad. Did you know there are 5 ways to serve process? Indeed! Plus the nontraditional method!

Egad. August will be devoted to books, movies, and playing in the water.

Fearing Flailing

Last night it was a spectacularly beautiful evening, temperate and clear with an enormous moon, and TFL took me for a long ride on Bonnie. It was a long enough ride that my mind finally disengaged and floated, happy to be on the bike and watching the moon and not studying for the bar. Then I came home and worked for another couple of hours, staying up too late once again.

LL often has a way of capturing my thoughts on family and husbands. It's funny, even though she's at a far different place in her life in terms of the husband-and-family timeline, she's the only other woman in our class who understands from experience the pull they exert even when you really really need to find a cave to hide in until you've learned enough to pass whatever test is looming. (Other classmates are married, so they definitely understand some of it, but she's the only other woman in the class who's a mom.)

Sometimes they're a huge distraction, and sometimes that's a wonderful thing. Sometimes they're a huge help, too, like when they cook for us or listen to our whining give us a big hug when we most need it. Either way, my life is infinitely better for having my husband and children in it, so I'll just cope with being woefully behind in bar prep (there are practice questions? really? and where would I find those and the time in which to do them?) and not let myself fall into despair (yet) and start flailing around in an endless fit of panic over the test the lecturers have informed us is "fearful."

I'll save that for next week. Or maybe the week after. I might have to have a conniption fit about the flat not selling before I get around to freaking out (more) about the bar.

I Suspect Prettiness

There's sunlight coming in the dining room windows, to Dogness's delight. There seems to be a nice breeze. I suspect it's a very pretty day out.

I'm spending the morning with my Crim outline (please oh please I hope I finish this blasted thing) before heading back to another thrilling class. Today is the second installment of contracts, in which I try to restrain myself from repeatedly banging my head against the nearest hard surface.

After class: practice questions!

Someone please go outside and enjoy this day for me. Thank you.

The Obligatory Whither Now? Post

Lots of law school bloggers find themselves wondering, whither now? Do we keep blogging when we can no longer complain about professors? Is there much point to blogging when we can't say one word about work, which will consume 110% of our waking hours?

I started this blog to keep my family apprised of my continued existence while buried in the non-stop fun and games that is law school. I don't see my life becoming less hectic, even if it becomes less share-able.

One of the main benefits of the blog for me has been the way it forced me to look up from my mound of work sometimes and find something else to say about life. Whether it was noticing that the trees were, in fact, blooming again, or ranting about some current event, I would occasionally break out of the law school mind set and that was good for me.

So for the moment I think I'll continue. I'll regale you with the thrills of my Bar preparation adventures, agonize over the unsold status of our flat, keep you up to speed on our progress to the new and improved location.

Bonus picture: GirlChild's wall pocket with a flower.

Nap Time

Today I finished one make-up class this morning and then did a face-plant into my bed. The next thing I knew the dog was barking hysterically and I had a nice basket-weave pattern imprinted on my cheek from the bedspread.

This afternoon I plowed through another, tonight I went to the regularly scheduled class for today. I'm down to one make-up class left. I'm pretty sure that so far I've absorbed . . . nothing.

Some of these profs are better at mnemonics than others. The Property prof was hopeless in that regard--I spent far more time wondering what the heck FSDPOR stood for in her bizarre story than I did remembering "fee simple determinable with possibility of reverter." In fact, I had to run through the property term to make sure I had the acronym right. The Con Law prof was better, and the parlor trick he pulled with having the entire outline memorized (with only one small slip over two whole days) was entertaining all by itself.

But I suggest to the powers that be who are running this little monopoly that they start selecting profs based on their radio voices or lovely accents or something. I mean, three whole days of civ pro would have gone down a whole lot better if read by Sean Connery. Maybe what they really need are stand-ins who read the outlines these fabulous professors prepare. Yeah.