Embrace the Happy
Things are looking up for BT. The career bumbs in the road are smaller than expected. Dinner was a delicious and improved by improvisation red lentil, tomato, vinegar soup with accompanying herb-roasted potatoes. Man I love having time to cook.
And, bonus:
Shaun of the Dead was not as zombie-state-inducing as expected.
I actually enjoyed it.
I think it might have had something to do with the general stress relief associated with knowing what the hell is going on in an least one aspect of my life.
October 10, 2006
October 9, 2006
October 8, 2006
Spicy Risotto-Like Heaven
This, a last-minute concoction from things in the fridge and pantry after a weekend away, was homey and delicious. Enjoy:
1 cup starchy white rice (arborio, or, in a pinch, sushi rice)
Olive Oil for cooking (exactly how good this oil needs to be is a personal call and a much longer blog entry...)
1/4 large yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, diced
1 plastic container of mexican hot salsa left over from Friday's takeout
1 can chicken broth + water as needed
2 Tablespoons habanero pickled salsa from a friend with a talent for preserves
1/2 cup chopped 6 month aged cow cheese from the farmer's market
Parmigiano, for grating
black pepper
1. Sautee onions and garlic in olive oil until onions are partially clear. Add rice and stir until rice is fully covered and slightly translucent.
2. Add broth, bring to a low simmer, stir and let evaporate slowly 'til rice is al dente. Add water if necessary.
3. When broth is almost all evaporated, add salsas and stir.
4. When the liquid is almost entirely evaporated, add the cow's milk cheese and stir until melted and mixed throughout.
5. Remove from heat and let set for 5 minutes. Serve with grated parmigiano on top along with a sprinkling of black pepper.
I'm toying with turning this blog into solely a food blog. Or perhaps a food & running blog.
My personal life is, well, overly personal and introspective as of late (read: not very interesting to anyone except me). My professional life, is, well, too professional to be available for the entertainment of the anonymous masses. And, to be frank, the remainder of my life isn't very ink-worthy. I'd love to keep up on legal or technical or even silicon valley trends. But, let's be honest, in any of those categories, I'll be lucky to find time to do the reading of people who do the aggregation of info for me.
But Food! Ahhh... I could write for hours and hours about food. Conveniently, my title lends itself to an oral fixation of some sort, so it wouldn't be that difficult of a transition. So, 'til I decide what to do, I'll try to post more and more of my foody thoughts/experiences and see how that treats me. I welcome your comments.
This, a last-minute concoction from things in the fridge and pantry after a weekend away, was homey and delicious. Enjoy:
1 cup starchy white rice (arborio, or, in a pinch, sushi rice)
Olive Oil for cooking (exactly how good this oil needs to be is a personal call and a much longer blog entry...)
1/4 large yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, diced
1 plastic container of mexican hot salsa left over from Friday's takeout
1 can chicken broth + water as needed
2 Tablespoons habanero pickled salsa from a friend with a talent for preserves
1/2 cup chopped 6 month aged cow cheese from the farmer's market
Parmigiano, for grating
black pepper
1. Sautee onions and garlic in olive oil until onions are partially clear. Add rice and stir until rice is fully covered and slightly translucent.
2. Add broth, bring to a low simmer, stir and let evaporate slowly 'til rice is al dente. Add water if necessary.
3. When broth is almost all evaporated, add salsas and stir.
4. When the liquid is almost entirely evaporated, add the cow's milk cheese and stir until melted and mixed throughout.
5. Remove from heat and let set for 5 minutes. Serve with grated parmigiano on top along with a sprinkling of black pepper.
I'm toying with turning this blog into solely a food blog. Or perhaps a food & running blog.
My personal life is, well, overly personal and introspective as of late (read: not very interesting to anyone except me). My professional life, is, well, too professional to be available for the entertainment of the anonymous masses. And, to be frank, the remainder of my life isn't very ink-worthy. I'd love to keep up on legal or technical or even silicon valley trends. But, let's be honest, in any of those categories, I'll be lucky to find time to do the reading of people who do the aggregation of info for me.
But Food! Ahhh... I could write for hours and hours about food. Conveniently, my title lends itself to an oral fixation of some sort, so it wouldn't be that difficult of a transition. So, 'til I decide what to do, I'll try to post more and more of my foody thoughts/experiences and see how that treats me. I welcome your comments.
October 5, 2006
Rolling
I took all the change we found in my dad's house to the bank to deposit it into the estate account. I figured they'd have some sort of machine or something. Nope.
We only accept rolled coins.
So, in case you were wondering, it takes approximately 1 hour to roll $60.92 worth of coins if there is $6.00+ in pennies.
Oddly, I found it comforting to sit there and smile at the folks who took their seats in the lobby and waited to be called to the bankers. I sat through at least 6 customers and found myself enjoying the slow methodical use of my time.
Also, I had a hilarious thought. I tried to imagine the treatment I would have gotten if I had enough paper money that it took me an hour to lay it out in piles, sort it, and count it. You know, in the lobby of the bank. On the coffee table. Imagine!
Instead of the chaos from greenbacks, my piles of silver and copper brought inquisitive smiles and a few fun conversations with people who wondered where I got all the change. It was pleasant. I think Dad would have liked that I stayed there to do it and made the small talk.
I took all the change we found in my dad's house to the bank to deposit it into the estate account. I figured they'd have some sort of machine or something. Nope.
We only accept rolled coins.
So, in case you were wondering, it takes approximately 1 hour to roll $60.92 worth of coins if there is $6.00+ in pennies.
Oddly, I found it comforting to sit there and smile at the folks who took their seats in the lobby and waited to be called to the bankers. I sat through at least 6 customers and found myself enjoying the slow methodical use of my time.
Also, I had a hilarious thought. I tried to imagine the treatment I would have gotten if I had enough paper money that it took me an hour to lay it out in piles, sort it, and count it. You know, in the lobby of the bank. On the coffee table. Imagine!
Instead of the chaos from greenbacks, my piles of silver and copper brought inquisitive smiles and a few fun conversations with people who wondered where I got all the change. It was pleasant. I think Dad would have liked that I stayed there to do it and made the small talk.
October 3, 2006
I don't know where I'm going... but I sure know where I've been
Little Hint:
If you incorrectly address a postcard by putting the recipient's name and address on the top and your return address on the bottom, you can't just write TO: and FROM: in front of the addresses and underline them.
If you do, you will receive your own postmarked postcards one to two days after you mail them.
Little Hint:
If you incorrectly address a postcard by putting the recipient's name and address on the top and your return address on the bottom, you can't just write TO: and FROM: in front of the addresses and underline them.
If you do, you will receive your own postmarked postcards one to two days after you mail them.
October 2, 2006
Good Grief
I'm a bit of a mess right now. It was bound to happen, I suppose. Nice timing, though, huh? Right as I start work as an associate. Awesome.
Anyways, I'm engaging in some bibliotherapy and found I'd rather laugh by Linda Richman to be a good use of time.
I laughed. I cried. Literally, while reading. And I do feel a little better.
Baby Steps, I suppose.
I'm a bit of a mess right now. It was bound to happen, I suppose. Nice timing, though, huh? Right as I start work as an associate. Awesome.
Anyways, I'm engaging in some bibliotherapy and found I'd rather laugh by Linda Richman to be a good use of time.
I laughed. I cried. Literally, while reading. And I do feel a little better.
Baby Steps, I suppose.
October 1, 2006
Fall
Autumn is always a mixed bag for me. I feel cheated by the cold air and white cover. After summer, I need blue skies and sun to be happy, or, at least, I need to ease out of my sunshine addiction and fall is never good about politely laying off. But then, there's the food! The tomatoes, so many squash and so little time! The return to cooking warm comfort food is one of my favorite events of the year.
For the last several years, I've made it a habit of getting fat and happy over the summer (I blame BBQ season). You'd think that when autumn arrives, bringing chilly weather, bulkier clothes, and an excuse to make rich warm dishes, the trend would continue until spring.
But fall also tends to brings other things. It also brings the ripeness of the healthier food, the beginning of soup season, and, for me, it seems to always bring stress due to the beginning of something new in my life. So, despite my love for autumn food, I generally lose the summer padding while coping with the inevitable newness and weather of October.
In October of 2000, I started dating E which was wonderful and scary and exciting at the same time. In October of 2001, I decided to take the LSAT and go to law school. In 2002, it was October when I began the house hunt with E that eventually resulted in us becoming co-home-owners. In 2003, it was October when the reality of 1L hit me and I fully understood the impact of my decision to go to law school. In 2004, it was October when I stretched myself to the extreme with a full load of classes, OCI, journal, and a moot court competition in another state. In 2005, it was October when I struggled and finally made a decision about my future as a lawyer.
And here I am again. October 2006. The blues. Depression and the reality of my father's death are finally with me. I kept them at bay by keeping busy until I started work. But with the reality of work came many surprises, and now the sunny weather is gone. So, in keeping with the October theme, I'm in a new spot yet again: new career, and new emotions of loss. The sky looks like it wants to rain today, and I can relate because I am busy, overwhelmed, and sad.
So, to stave off the bad part of October, I went to the farmer's market this morning. I hadn't been in at least 9 months and didn't know it had been moved down the street. I almost cried when I drove by the parking lot where it used to be and saw only cars. With the help of the signs, I found the market and was delighted to find it bigger and better than before. I smiled and made a goofy grin as I walked amongst the gorgeous potatoes, roots, and roughage. I was saddened that there is not enough time to cook with all the wonderful foods that I saw before they will be out of season.
I bought butternut squash, 7 breeds of heirloom tomatoes, italian broccoli, and gorgeous flowers. And my simple visit to the market did the trick. I came home happy, thankful for good food and ready to face this week of October, which, no doubt will be difficult. Thank goodness for fall harvest and the healing power of soup.
Autumn is always a mixed bag for me. I feel cheated by the cold air and white cover. After summer, I need blue skies and sun to be happy, or, at least, I need to ease out of my sunshine addiction and fall is never good about politely laying off. But then, there's the food! The tomatoes, so many squash and so little time! The return to cooking warm comfort food is one of my favorite events of the year.
For the last several years, I've made it a habit of getting fat and happy over the summer (I blame BBQ season). You'd think that when autumn arrives, bringing chilly weather, bulkier clothes, and an excuse to make rich warm dishes, the trend would continue until spring.
But fall also tends to brings other things. It also brings the ripeness of the healthier food, the beginning of soup season, and, for me, it seems to always bring stress due to the beginning of something new in my life. So, despite my love for autumn food, I generally lose the summer padding while coping with the inevitable newness and weather of October.
In October of 2000, I started dating E which was wonderful and scary and exciting at the same time. In October of 2001, I decided to take the LSAT and go to law school. In 2002, it was October when I began the house hunt with E that eventually resulted in us becoming co-home-owners. In 2003, it was October when the reality of 1L hit me and I fully understood the impact of my decision to go to law school. In 2004, it was October when I stretched myself to the extreme with a full load of classes, OCI, journal, and a moot court competition in another state. In 2005, it was October when I struggled and finally made a decision about my future as a lawyer.
And here I am again. October 2006. The blues. Depression and the reality of my father's death are finally with me. I kept them at bay by keeping busy until I started work. But with the reality of work came many surprises, and now the sunny weather is gone. So, in keeping with the October theme, I'm in a new spot yet again: new career, and new emotions of loss. The sky looks like it wants to rain today, and I can relate because I am busy, overwhelmed, and sad.
So, to stave off the bad part of October, I went to the farmer's market this morning. I hadn't been in at least 9 months and didn't know it had been moved down the street. I almost cried when I drove by the parking lot where it used to be and saw only cars. With the help of the signs, I found the market and was delighted to find it bigger and better than before. I smiled and made a goofy grin as I walked amongst the gorgeous potatoes, roots, and roughage. I was saddened that there is not enough time to cook with all the wonderful foods that I saw before they will be out of season.
I bought butternut squash, 7 breeds of heirloom tomatoes, italian broccoli, and gorgeous flowers. And my simple visit to the market did the trick. I came home happy, thankful for good food and ready to face this week of October, which, no doubt will be difficult. Thank goodness for fall harvest and the healing power of soup.
September 25, 2006
It begins
I started my job today. Weird. Some people that used to work there are gone. Others are new. People have moved offices. But other than that, not much is different.
I have hours at the office, where I am paid to do work. Then, I come home and I don't have to do work. Today, "work" involved filling out a bajillion forms and figuring out how to login to a million different accounts. Someday, work will involve stress and tasks that are too complex to complete in the allocated time. Despite my best efforts, I will probably bring them home and take them with me when I'm "not at work."
But not today. Today was a fresh beginning full of possibility. And it's been a long time since my time was worth money to others and I didn't feel like they were bribing me. Somehow, the rest of my time, which I chose not to sell today (there were no buyers -- first day!) and took home with me tonight was all the more precious. Mine. Gloriously all mine. It was a feeling I haven't felt in years, and most certainly not one I've felt in the last 6 months.
I can't wait to read another book in my spare time.
I started my job today. Weird. Some people that used to work there are gone. Others are new. People have moved offices. But other than that, not much is different.
I have hours at the office, where I am paid to do work. Then, I come home and I don't have to do work. Today, "work" involved filling out a bajillion forms and figuring out how to login to a million different accounts. Someday, work will involve stress and tasks that are too complex to complete in the allocated time. Despite my best efforts, I will probably bring them home and take them with me when I'm "not at work."
But not today. Today was a fresh beginning full of possibility. And it's been a long time since my time was worth money to others and I didn't feel like they were bribing me. Somehow, the rest of my time, which I chose not to sell today (there were no buyers -- first day!) and took home with me tonight was all the more precious. Mine. Gloriously all mine. It was a feeling I haven't felt in years, and most certainly not one I've felt in the last 6 months.
I can't wait to read another book in my spare time.
September 24, 2006
Familiar Territory
Saturday, I wanted dessert.
But, since we haven't been home for 6 weeks, we didn't really have ingredients to make anything in the house. All of the perishables had long since been banished. No cream. No milk. No eggs. It's kind of hard to bake dessert without eggs.
Or so I thought, 'til I had the awesome thought of: RICE PUDDING. I looked up the recipe in my trusty HTBADG and was pleased to find instructions like, "throw in the muscat (much as you would wine in a risotto)". Ah-hah! Rice pudding is like risotto, not baking. You can experiment and estimate and it doesn't go limp and die. Instead it'll turn out fine. So, in celebration of a delicious dessert, cooking in my own kitchen for friends, and improvising with the random bits I found in the pantry, I present:
Rice Pudding From the Kitchen Without Perishables
1 can condensed milk (replaced the 2 1/4 cups whole milk)
1 can coconut milk (replaced the 1 1/4 cups heavy cream)
Slightly more than 1/2 a cup of sugar
Slightly more than 1/2 a cup of sushi rice (didn't have arborio)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter (keeps in the fridge, thankfully)
1 - 1.5 cups of sherry (replaced the muscat)
nutmeg and cinnamon (replaced the fresh nutmeg)
1 capful of vanilla (why not?)
Preheat oven to 300F. Melt butter over medium heat in a casserole dish. Toss in rice and coat for a minute or two. Add sherry and cook down. Add condensed milk, coconut milk, bring to a low boil. Mix in sugar and vanilla. Remove from heat. Sprinkle nutmeg and cinnamon on top. Bake for an hour or so. Could probably stand even longer in the oven. Remove from the heat and let cool/set. Serve in bowls with spoons. Mmmmm...
Saturday, I wanted dessert.
But, since we haven't been home for 6 weeks, we didn't really have ingredients to make anything in the house. All of the perishables had long since been banished. No cream. No milk. No eggs. It's kind of hard to bake dessert without eggs.
Or so I thought, 'til I had the awesome thought of: RICE PUDDING. I looked up the recipe in my trusty HTBADG and was pleased to find instructions like, "throw in the muscat (much as you would wine in a risotto)". Ah-hah! Rice pudding is like risotto, not baking. You can experiment and estimate and it doesn't go limp and die. Instead it'll turn out fine. So, in celebration of a delicious dessert, cooking in my own kitchen for friends, and improvising with the random bits I found in the pantry, I present:
Rice Pudding From the Kitchen Without Perishables
1 can condensed milk (replaced the 2 1/4 cups whole milk)
1 can coconut milk (replaced the 1 1/4 cups heavy cream)
Slightly more than 1/2 a cup of sugar
Slightly more than 1/2 a cup of sushi rice (didn't have arborio)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter (keeps in the fridge, thankfully)
1 - 1.5 cups of sherry (replaced the muscat)
nutmeg and cinnamon (replaced the fresh nutmeg)
1 capful of vanilla (why not?)
Preheat oven to 300F. Melt butter over medium heat in a casserole dish. Toss in rice and coat for a minute or two. Add sherry and cook down. Add condensed milk, coconut milk, bring to a low boil. Mix in sugar and vanilla. Remove from heat. Sprinkle nutmeg and cinnamon on top. Bake for an hour or so. Could probably stand even longer in the oven. Remove from the heat and let cool/set. Serve in bowls with spoons. Mmmmm...
September 23, 2006
Two things I did that were smart
1. I bought the double issue of People entitled "best dressed." I had ample time to whip it out over the last couple of days while sitting in banks and waiting for clerks to verify that all the estate paperwork was in order. Yay adorable clothes. Boo 2.5 hours to close and transfer a bank account.
2. I don't really enjoy shopping, so I tend to do it on-line for immediate needs and once or twice a year for the big closet upkeep. Unbeknownst to me, I decided to use the birthday gift certificate that E's parents sent me for Ann Taylor during their "wardrobing event." Apparently, twice a year AT sends out invitations to certain AT shoppers. When you go in, they bring the clothes to you in your size while you wait in the dressing room. "Do you like this or this?" My girl was very good at figuring out my preferences from my rejections and made a few recommendations I wouldn't have tried that I ended up buying. Plus, if you spend money during the event, you get discounts up to 25% depending on how much you spend. Better service and lower prices? Count in me.
So, I spent less than I normally do on the big shopping trip, only hit one store, and now have a decent wardrobe of winter/fall work clothes (which I needed since I haven't worked in the winter since I externed for the judge during 2L). Woo hoo!
1. I bought the double issue of People entitled "best dressed." I had ample time to whip it out over the last couple of days while sitting in banks and waiting for clerks to verify that all the estate paperwork was in order. Yay adorable clothes. Boo 2.5 hours to close and transfer a bank account.
2. I don't really enjoy shopping, so I tend to do it on-line for immediate needs and once or twice a year for the big closet upkeep. Unbeknownst to me, I decided to use the birthday gift certificate that E's parents sent me for Ann Taylor during their "wardrobing event." Apparently, twice a year AT sends out invitations to certain AT shoppers. When you go in, they bring the clothes to you in your size while you wait in the dressing room. "Do you like this or this?" My girl was very good at figuring out my preferences from my rejections and made a few recommendations I wouldn't have tried that I ended up buying. Plus, if you spend money during the event, you get discounts up to 25% depending on how much you spend. Better service and lower prices? Count in me.
So, I spent less than I normally do on the big shopping trip, only hit one store, and now have a decent wardrobe of winter/fall work clothes (which I needed since I haven't worked in the winter since I externed for the judge during 2L). Woo hoo!
September 20, 2006
Good News, Bad News
Ahhh... my life is pseduo-normal today. I spent the majority of the day sorting through estate crap, writing up and filling out legal documents, researching tax crap and reading, reading, reading. I even made homemade italian dinner from scratch (which was particularly impressive given the bare state of our kitchen cabinets!) But, at the end of the night, I had to admit that something had gone wrong.
After almost 2 years, today, I finally managed to kill my widget (aka the Garmin Forerunner 201). I recall the documentation saying that it was waterproof. Something about 30 and 1. Like 30 meters for 1 hour. Or 1 meter for 30 minutes. Or something. Whatever, I took it in the water whenever I went after a run and it was great -- it even told me how far I swam.
But, it has exposed copper at the junction to the charger. So, really, I should have known better than to take it in the ocean even once. Salt water and corrosion, yeah I recall something about that from my materials science class. Instead, I dunked it in the Pacific and the Atlantic from California to Australia, not to mention from Mexico (3 times) to Hawaii.
Unfortunately, the battery doesn't want to hold a charge that well after this last bit of vacation. D-E-A-D upon arrival. But I charged it like crazy upon return and went for my run this morning. It seemed to work, but then, well, it kind of made this *screaming* noise when I try to turn it off. Apparently, it now screams 'til it's no longer charged.
So, yeah, its time has come. But it was easily the best $120 I spent in the last 2 years -- the return on investment was ridiculous. So I just figured I'd just get a new one.
The good news:
Thanks to my new buddy John Sun, I will be buying an upgrade. Garmin Forerunner 205, here I come. John addressed so many of my concerns -- the form factor (it's more comfortable!); the accuracy (it's an improvement, which is much appreciated, E and I lost the sattelites in the trees on our hike up the sleeping giant and I couldn't say with certainty whether we were near the top or not. This did not go over well since I didn't bring the water and the cloud cover wasn't cooperating for what was later termed, "the death march.") Anyways, back to the 205, the web-interface software with mapping and training capabilities has advanced substantially since I last looked at it. Add USB synching and well, I'm excited. I feel like I may be returning to a life where I have hobbies.
Ahh, the sweetness of tech gadgetry to pursue a hobby (here's to hoping that I may be able to continue in this vein once I am a lawyer).
Ahhh... my life is pseduo-normal today. I spent the majority of the day sorting through estate crap, writing up and filling out legal documents, researching tax crap and reading, reading, reading. I even made homemade italian dinner from scratch (which was particularly impressive given the bare state of our kitchen cabinets!) But, at the end of the night, I had to admit that something had gone wrong.
After almost 2 years, today, I finally managed to kill my widget (aka the Garmin Forerunner 201). I recall the documentation saying that it was waterproof. Something about 30 and 1. Like 30 meters for 1 hour. Or 1 meter for 30 minutes. Or something. Whatever, I took it in the water whenever I went after a run and it was great -- it even told me how far I swam.
But, it has exposed copper at the junction to the charger. So, really, I should have known better than to take it in the ocean even once. Salt water and corrosion, yeah I recall something about that from my materials science class. Instead, I dunked it in the Pacific and the Atlantic from California to Australia, not to mention from Mexico (3 times) to Hawaii.
Unfortunately, the battery doesn't want to hold a charge that well after this last bit of vacation. D-E-A-D upon arrival. But I charged it like crazy upon return and went for my run this morning. It seemed to work, but then, well, it kind of made this *screaming* noise when I try to turn it off. Apparently, it now screams 'til it's no longer charged.
So, yeah, its time has come. But it was easily the best $120 I spent in the last 2 years -- the return on investment was ridiculous. So I just figured I'd just get a new one.
The good news:
Thanks to my new buddy John Sun, I will be buying an upgrade. Garmin Forerunner 205, here I come. John addressed so many of my concerns -- the form factor (it's more comfortable!); the accuracy (it's an improvement, which is much appreciated, E and I lost the sattelites in the trees on our hike up the sleeping giant and I couldn't say with certainty whether we were near the top or not. This did not go over well since I didn't bring the water and the cloud cover wasn't cooperating for what was later termed, "the death march.") Anyways, back to the 205, the web-interface software with mapping and training capabilities has advanced substantially since I last looked at it. Add USB synching and well, I'm excited. I feel like I may be returning to a life where I have hobbies.
Ahh, the sweetness of tech gadgetry to pursue a hobby (here's to hoping that I may be able to continue in this vein once I am a lawyer).
Stroke, stroke, stroke, breathe...
I think I forgot about the breathing part for a while back there. Thankfully, the beauty of Hawaii reminded me that I needed to take some time out.
Sure, I'm back and already overloaded with family issues, estate issues, my soon to be start as a proto-lawyer, my husband's new career, the slow crumbling of the relationships that I haven't had the emotional strength to tend to, a stack of bills a mile high, and more.
But, for a week there, after some false starts, I remembered how to chill. Every morning (except one), I slept until I couldn't anymore. Then I ran along the crashing surf of Kauai and Oahu (a different beach each day!). I'd jump in the ocean to cool off. I'd shower and eat to start the day with my husband.
On the most decadent days, the entire day with the husband meant lazing by the pool, listening to the surf, and at times beckoning adorable waiters to bring me another mojito while reading. I escaped via a spy novel, a delightfully trashy and surprisingly feminist paperback drama, and half of a hilarious childhood memoir (that I can't wait to finish). I also need to finish the classic Flatland, which I started and found entertaining until I acquired "Lipstick Jungle." Somehow, maybe because Candace Bushnell is that entertaining, or maybe it was the help of the mojitos, but regardless of how, I managed to completely forgot about the math book 'til the plane ride home.
I also enjoyed meals with E. I enjoyed time *alone* with E. I enjoyed myself.
While Mexico was great, it was emotionally draining to be doing my Dad's favorite activity with my siblings. It was necessary and fun, but it felt more like a stepping stone in the grieving process than a vacation. Hawaii, on the other hand, actually did relax me.
Good thing, too. I think I might have been approaching the "too wound up" state. The about to implode from the pressure state. I could feel it on the horizon. It was scaring me, keeping me up at night, making me worry and work hard, every moment. The horizon, it turns out, is much prettier when it's just surf.
And now, my friends, I return to the long lists and responsibilities from which I needed escape. But I do so tan, relaxed, and broke. One of the interviewers for OCI told me that no matter what else I did, I should be sure to show up for my first day of work as a lawyer broke and tan. I am happy to say that I will be doing so.
And the take home lesson is: No matter how hard I must pull, let me please remember to breathe, no matter what.
I think I forgot about the breathing part for a while back there. Thankfully, the beauty of Hawaii reminded me that I needed to take some time out.
Sure, I'm back and already overloaded with family issues, estate issues, my soon to be start as a proto-lawyer, my husband's new career, the slow crumbling of the relationships that I haven't had the emotional strength to tend to, a stack of bills a mile high, and more.
But, for a week there, after some false starts, I remembered how to chill. Every morning (except one), I slept until I couldn't anymore. Then I ran along the crashing surf of Kauai and Oahu (a different beach each day!). I'd jump in the ocean to cool off. I'd shower and eat to start the day with my husband.
On the most decadent days, the entire day with the husband meant lazing by the pool, listening to the surf, and at times beckoning adorable waiters to bring me another mojito while reading. I escaped via a spy novel, a delightfully trashy and surprisingly feminist paperback drama, and half of a hilarious childhood memoir (that I can't wait to finish). I also need to finish the classic Flatland, which I started and found entertaining until I acquired "Lipstick Jungle." Somehow, maybe because Candace Bushnell is that entertaining, or maybe it was the help of the mojitos, but regardless of how, I managed to completely forgot about the math book 'til the plane ride home.
I also enjoyed meals with E. I enjoyed time *alone* with E. I enjoyed myself.
While Mexico was great, it was emotionally draining to be doing my Dad's favorite activity with my siblings. It was necessary and fun, but it felt more like a stepping stone in the grieving process than a vacation. Hawaii, on the other hand, actually did relax me.
Good thing, too. I think I might have been approaching the "too wound up" state. The about to implode from the pressure state. I could feel it on the horizon. It was scaring me, keeping me up at night, making me worry and work hard, every moment. The horizon, it turns out, is much prettier when it's just surf.
And now, my friends, I return to the long lists and responsibilities from which I needed escape. But I do so tan, relaxed, and broke. One of the interviewers for OCI told me that no matter what else I did, I should be sure to show up for my first day of work as a lawyer broke and tan. I am happy to say that I will be doing so.
And the take home lesson is: No matter how hard I must pull, let me please remember to breathe, no matter what.
September 11, 2006
Flashback
Eddie Murphy raw is an excellent sample of the 80's. His act includes pop-culture references of the day. His purple leather suit and black finger gloves... damn.
And of course, the fashion in the audience. Wow. Vintage 1987. Amazing.
Okay, I fell asleep 1/4 of the way through. That's why I have not much to say about the actual content. E told me it was funny but not hilarious.
I was exhausted last night. My sister, brother and I packed and moved my Father's house this weekend. My sister had been living there so we moved her as well. Plus, there were extended-family drama/issues that we needed to discuss. By the end of the weekend, everyone was physically tired, emotionally drained, and pretty sick of one another. But it's a big relief to have it done. In a week or two we won't be sick of one another and we'll be able to hang out without the weight of Dad's stuff hanging over our heads.
Soon, very soon, I will have a pseudo-normal life. I will go to work. I will come home and cook dinner with food that I bought. I will sleep in my own bed. I will have a regular work out schedule.
Eddie Murphy raw is an excellent sample of the 80's. His act includes pop-culture references of the day. His purple leather suit and black finger gloves... damn.
And of course, the fashion in the audience. Wow. Vintage 1987. Amazing.
Okay, I fell asleep 1/4 of the way through. That's why I have not much to say about the actual content. E told me it was funny but not hilarious.
I was exhausted last night. My sister, brother and I packed and moved my Father's house this weekend. My sister had been living there so we moved her as well. Plus, there were extended-family drama/issues that we needed to discuss. By the end of the weekend, everyone was physically tired, emotionally drained, and pretty sick of one another. But it's a big relief to have it done. In a week or two we won't be sick of one another and we'll be able to hang out without the weight of Dad's stuff hanging over our heads.
Soon, very soon, I will have a pseudo-normal life. I will go to work. I will come home and cook dinner with food that I bought. I will sleep in my own bed. I will have a regular work out schedule.
September 5, 2006
Redistribution
The weight of the world has moved, at least partially, from my shoulders to my stomach and butt. Vacation. You didn't do it right if you don't gain weight. That's what I always say.
A week in playa del carmen was just what the doctor ordered.
We spent two days in an all-inclusive resort in order to stay at the same hotel as sister and brother. Weird, but fun, and glad we experienced it. Instead of the frat party we feared we found a 20- and 30-something Euro-American party. Made lots of friends. The all-you-can eat food and drink were approximately the quality you'd expect -- not so great.
We spent the remaining time in one of 6 condos in a small building in downtown PDC. The star of the vacation was the outdoor shower on the balcony. E probably took 10 showers on the hottest day. I wasn't far behind him in number. We'd get wet, dry off in the heat and stare at the lights of Cozumel over the ocean while listening to the surf.
Deep sea fishing was wonderful. It's powerful: the ocean, the storms, the fish (I caught a barracuda and an darkfin jack), you, and the wind. There's not much space for stress. I can see why it was one of my dad's favorite things to do.
We also spent one day driving around Quintana Roo and Yucatan. Toll roads through the jungle between Cancun and Chichen Itza? $23 US. Open roads back via Tulum -- no tolls, a bit more time, but much more to see including many mayan villages selling their wares. Unfortunately, chichen Itza was closed to the climbers on the day we were there. But, it was probably for the best since it was a billion degrees and 1000% humidity. Had we climbed, we probably would have been the next sacrifices to Quetzalcoatl.
Another day, we took the ferry from PDC to Cozumel. The ferry was much more modern than the last time I took a ferry between Oakland and San Francisco. We expected Cozumel to be horrifically touristy and over-developed. We were surpised to find that the majority of the island is undeveloped and that the downtown is fairly small. We found that PDC was much more bustling and tourist-laden than Cozumel, which was counter to what we'd heard from previous visitors. During our vacation, I spoke to several people who live and work in PDC and apparently it is changing at a very rapid pace. The bartender at one of the bars told me that you wouldn't recognize today's PDC against the one of 5 years ago. The women who did my manicure at the spa told me that she didn't know the population of PDC, but that it was shrinking every year and that soon she wouldn't be able to afford to live in town despite growing up there. What was particularly striking to me was the amount of private, all-inclusive, compound/resort developments. They have guards. You check in. You experience the resort version of Mexico that they provide you with, and you leave. You may not give any money back to the local community if you make all of your purchases at the resort.
Mornings when we had nothing planned, I'd do my favorite thing: run in the sun and then jump in the ocean. E would also do his favorite thing: sleep. Other than that we ate and we were lazy. We took lots of balcony showers. We read. We learned about the hurricane after it decided not to hit us. In short, vacation.
Finally, because I live for food, for those who are interested, I present my favorite meals:
1. The barbacoa shack just outside of Cancun city on the 385(?). E2 had raved about barbacoa for so long that I just pulled the car over. I think sister and E were a little scared by the shack and the lack of menus, but they were polite and waited to pass judgment. We navigated the all verbal menu and ordered barbacoa tacos, nopales and beer. We received a soup that was to die for and two tacos of heaven each. The nopales were raw, so we erred on the side of safety and didn't eat 'em. (FYI: Another surprise was that driving through downtown Cancun, away from the beach resorts, felt much more like Mexico than navigating the ever-expanding euro-american town of downtown PDC)
2. The hole-in-the wall taqueria outside of PDC center that we found with our new-found Belgian food-aid friend. E probably got sick from the Chorizo tacos since the next day he was a little rough, gastrointestinally-speaking. But, he said it was worth it. I had a stuffed potato (beef, chorizo, cheese, fresh cream instead of butter for some reason and chives) and it was heavenly. I swear, Mexican taqueria food is my favorite food in the world. Good thing I live in California.
3. The Italian-run restaurant just outside the front door called "La Siesta." I stopped in for take-out the night after E got sick from everyone's number one restaurant recommendation (La Cueva del Chango -- if you think the Tuna's bad, it probably is). I chatted with the manager and he recommended papas al horno y sopa de verduras. He was friendly and helped me with my spanish while I waited for the food. E was better the next day. As a gesture of thanks, we went back on our last night. The salsa was this wonderfully Italian take on salsa: it tasted like cooked down tomatoes, spiced with oregano, and pureed with habaneros and olive oil. It was amazing on the chips. We chatted with the manager again and ordered pizza and grilled octopus. Yes, it was Mexico. But the Italians just do the best damn food -- so we compromised, I had a "mexican pizza" and E had grilled octopus, which we decided was a local catch even if it was prepared in the Italian style.
4. The gazpacho and margarita lunch we had on La Quinta at 2 PM one lazy afternoon. It was siesta. We were the only ones in the restaurant. We watched the town slowly wake up and come alive. The tourists took to the streets and we listened to the melodious mixture of Italian, French, Spanish, English, German and Northern European languages. Then we went home, took a shower on the balcony, and relaxed some more.
5. The "La Parilla" stereotypically mexican grill dinner with brother and sister. Yes, they cater to tourists. But they also make damn good nopales and beef tacos. Arrachera Monterrey was awesome too. But the local bacon-wrapped shrimp specialty in an orange-colored tangy sauce made at the table with tequila, etc. was the winner. Plus, we had tall beers. It was a fun stereotypically touristic experience.
6. Ignoring that E got sick from the Tuna, La Cueva del Chango was good too. The appetizers were amazing. We were prepared for it to be our favorite meal. Grilled curd cheese in olive oil with oregano and the habanero cream soup both were crowd-pleasers. But the dinner was a bit of a let down after that. Just okay. Except for E, who got sick. Plus, there were many bugs that ate sister and E alive. Overall, just not the awesome experience that everyone promised it to be. But cute, and fun, and if I could do it again, I'd eat nothing but appetizers.
The weight of the world has moved, at least partially, from my shoulders to my stomach and butt. Vacation. You didn't do it right if you don't gain weight. That's what I always say.
A week in playa del carmen was just what the doctor ordered.
We spent two days in an all-inclusive resort in order to stay at the same hotel as sister and brother. Weird, but fun, and glad we experienced it. Instead of the frat party we feared we found a 20- and 30-something Euro-American party. Made lots of friends. The all-you-can eat food and drink were approximately the quality you'd expect -- not so great.
We spent the remaining time in one of 6 condos in a small building in downtown PDC. The star of the vacation was the outdoor shower on the balcony. E probably took 10 showers on the hottest day. I wasn't far behind him in number. We'd get wet, dry off in the heat and stare at the lights of Cozumel over the ocean while listening to the surf.
Deep sea fishing was wonderful. It's powerful: the ocean, the storms, the fish (I caught a barracuda and an darkfin jack), you, and the wind. There's not much space for stress. I can see why it was one of my dad's favorite things to do.
We also spent one day driving around Quintana Roo and Yucatan. Toll roads through the jungle between Cancun and Chichen Itza? $23 US. Open roads back via Tulum -- no tolls, a bit more time, but much more to see including many mayan villages selling their wares. Unfortunately, chichen Itza was closed to the climbers on the day we were there. But, it was probably for the best since it was a billion degrees and 1000% humidity. Had we climbed, we probably would have been the next sacrifices to Quetzalcoatl.
Another day, we took the ferry from PDC to Cozumel. The ferry was much more modern than the last time I took a ferry between Oakland and San Francisco. We expected Cozumel to be horrifically touristy and over-developed. We were surpised to find that the majority of the island is undeveloped and that the downtown is fairly small. We found that PDC was much more bustling and tourist-laden than Cozumel, which was counter to what we'd heard from previous visitors. During our vacation, I spoke to several people who live and work in PDC and apparently it is changing at a very rapid pace. The bartender at one of the bars told me that you wouldn't recognize today's PDC against the one of 5 years ago. The women who did my manicure at the spa told me that she didn't know the population of PDC, but that it was shrinking every year and that soon she wouldn't be able to afford to live in town despite growing up there. What was particularly striking to me was the amount of private, all-inclusive, compound/resort developments. They have guards. You check in. You experience the resort version of Mexico that they provide you with, and you leave. You may not give any money back to the local community if you make all of your purchases at the resort.
Mornings when we had nothing planned, I'd do my favorite thing: run in the sun and then jump in the ocean. E would also do his favorite thing: sleep. Other than that we ate and we were lazy. We took lots of balcony showers. We read. We learned about the hurricane after it decided not to hit us. In short, vacation.
Finally, because I live for food, for those who are interested, I present my favorite meals:
1. The barbacoa shack just outside of Cancun city on the 385(?). E2 had raved about barbacoa for so long that I just pulled the car over. I think sister and E were a little scared by the shack and the lack of menus, but they were polite and waited to pass judgment. We navigated the all verbal menu and ordered barbacoa tacos, nopales and beer. We received a soup that was to die for and two tacos of heaven each. The nopales were raw, so we erred on the side of safety and didn't eat 'em. (FYI: Another surprise was that driving through downtown Cancun, away from the beach resorts, felt much more like Mexico than navigating the ever-expanding euro-american town of downtown PDC)
2. The hole-in-the wall taqueria outside of PDC center that we found with our new-found Belgian food-aid friend. E probably got sick from the Chorizo tacos since the next day he was a little rough, gastrointestinally-speaking. But, he said it was worth it. I had a stuffed potato (beef, chorizo, cheese, fresh cream instead of butter for some reason and chives) and it was heavenly. I swear, Mexican taqueria food is my favorite food in the world. Good thing I live in California.
3. The Italian-run restaurant just outside the front door called "La Siesta." I stopped in for take-out the night after E got sick from everyone's number one restaurant recommendation (La Cueva del Chango -- if you think the Tuna's bad, it probably is). I chatted with the manager and he recommended papas al horno y sopa de verduras. He was friendly and helped me with my spanish while I waited for the food. E was better the next day. As a gesture of thanks, we went back on our last night. The salsa was this wonderfully Italian take on salsa: it tasted like cooked down tomatoes, spiced with oregano, and pureed with habaneros and olive oil. It was amazing on the chips. We chatted with the manager again and ordered pizza and grilled octopus. Yes, it was Mexico. But the Italians just do the best damn food -- so we compromised, I had a "mexican pizza" and E had grilled octopus, which we decided was a local catch even if it was prepared in the Italian style.
4. The gazpacho and margarita lunch we had on La Quinta at 2 PM one lazy afternoon. It was siesta. We were the only ones in the restaurant. We watched the town slowly wake up and come alive. The tourists took to the streets and we listened to the melodious mixture of Italian, French, Spanish, English, German and Northern European languages. Then we went home, took a shower on the balcony, and relaxed some more.
5. The "La Parilla" stereotypically mexican grill dinner with brother and sister. Yes, they cater to tourists. But they also make damn good nopales and beef tacos. Arrachera Monterrey was awesome too. But the local bacon-wrapped shrimp specialty in an orange-colored tangy sauce made at the table with tequila, etc. was the winner. Plus, we had tall beers. It was a fun stereotypically touristic experience.
6. Ignoring that E got sick from the Tuna, La Cueva del Chango was good too. The appetizers were amazing. We were prepared for it to be our favorite meal. Grilled curd cheese in olive oil with oregano and the habanero cream soup both were crowd-pleasers. But the dinner was a bit of a let down after that. Just okay. Except for E, who got sick. Plus, there were many bugs that ate sister and E alive. Overall, just not the awesome experience that everyone promised it to be. But cute, and fun, and if I could do it again, I'd eat nothing but appetizers.
August 21, 2006
Weight of the World
My life is very heavy right now. Full. Almost bloated. I overflow with all emotions: sadness, guilt, grief, happiness, elation, amazement, and more.
Funerals. Parties. Dinners with friends and family. Good memories of Dad that make me cry. Uncomfortable conversations with extended family resulting from his death and the reality that many more are to come. Time with E where it fits and guilt that there is not more. A new career that begins shortly. A possible passing bar score balanced against the very real reality that I, like many noble warriors, may be asked to attempt to slay that dragon once again.
I leave for vacation soon. It is absolutely necessary. I look forward to my normal, lighter life like a dream. I am excited for its return and hope that I can appreciate it at a level that I never did before.
My life is very heavy right now. Full. Almost bloated. I overflow with all emotions: sadness, guilt, grief, happiness, elation, amazement, and more.
Funerals. Parties. Dinners with friends and family. Good memories of Dad that make me cry. Uncomfortable conversations with extended family resulting from his death and the reality that many more are to come. Time with E where it fits and guilt that there is not more. A new career that begins shortly. A possible passing bar score balanced against the very real reality that I, like many noble warriors, may be asked to attempt to slay that dragon once again.
I leave for vacation soon. It is absolutely necessary. I look forward to my normal, lighter life like a dream. I am excited for its return and hope that I can appreciate it at a level that I never did before.
August 17, 2006
Homecoming
Tonight, I'm home in my own home for the first night in over 3 weeks after what I thought would be a weekend away. I've got some observations.
I *really* miss sleeping in my own bed with my own husband. I wanted to go to bed and fall asleep immediately upon arrival. Too bad it was 3 PM.
I missed my sonicare more than I would have thought. Just brushed my teeth, and *damn*...
Gangs of New York is the perfect excuse to sit on your own couch for hours on end. Literally. Hours. Like 5. Or, if you are us, and take breaks, 6. Note, much to E's surprise, this is *not* about gangs in New York in the '80s. If you think it is, you will be quite surprised.
The local sushi joint is oddly comforting. Overwhelmingly comforting. It made me cry.
It really is funny how much of a planner I am and how much life goes out of its way to make it clear that I should not be. Yet still, I persist. I'm cartoonish in my stubborness.
Tonight, I'm home in my own home for the first night in over 3 weeks after what I thought would be a weekend away. I've got some observations.
I *really* miss sleeping in my own bed with my own husband. I wanted to go to bed and fall asleep immediately upon arrival. Too bad it was 3 PM.
I missed my sonicare more than I would have thought. Just brushed my teeth, and *damn*...
Gangs of New York is the perfect excuse to sit on your own couch for hours on end. Literally. Hours. Like 5. Or, if you are us, and take breaks, 6. Note, much to E's surprise, this is *not* about gangs in New York in the '80s. If you think it is, you will be quite surprised.
The local sushi joint is oddly comforting. Overwhelmingly comforting. It made me cry.
It really is funny how much of a planner I am and how much life goes out of its way to make it clear that I should not be. Yet still, I persist. I'm cartoonish in my stubborness.
August 14, 2006
Today's Treasures
Today was a productive day. But at the end of it all, I was agitated. Many of the details associated with a loved one's death are painful and stressful.
At 6 PM, my sister and I met my mother for pedicures. I sat there, anxious, while my feet soaked in the water and the chair massaged me. All of a sudden, a feeling of peace washed over me.
I *had* to let it go. I was getting a pedicure. What was the point if I couldn't enjoy it? This is life. If I can't enjoy a pedicure, I'm not doing a good job of being alive. Slowly, with each massaging motion of the chair and with each little bit of work on my feet that transformed them from ugly to cute, I relaxed. I smiled. I was happy.
I was happy I could be happy. Plus, my feet look MUCH better.
I think it is not an exaggeration to say that I had a spiritual awakening of sorts in the pedicure chair today. Silly. But true. I feel more awake. I feel more at ease with the world and all of its harshness. Bad things happen. But so do pedicures.
As a bonus, I made a food discovery. I asked the salon owner if there was any good vietnamese food in my very suburban hometown. Here in whitey-ville, I'm surrounded by friends and family and I'm where I'm supposed to be given all of the stuff I need to be handling. But, I can't help craving the culinary diversity of my more metropolitan life in the bay area.
Imagine my shock when she informed me that there was a new vietnamese restaurant that had just opened and that it was *good*. Sis and I took Mom to experienc pho for the first time tonight. We followed the advice of the salon owner and discovered a delicious vietnamese deli/grocery/restaurant. Still in the euphoria of the pedicure, I savored the whole experience as divine intervention and enjoyed my meal to the fullest.
All in all, I'm finding this process surprising. I find deep sorrow in surprising nooks and crannies where I least expect it. And, I find comfort in equally strange places.
Today was a productive day. But at the end of it all, I was agitated. Many of the details associated with a loved one's death are painful and stressful.
At 6 PM, my sister and I met my mother for pedicures. I sat there, anxious, while my feet soaked in the water and the chair massaged me. All of a sudden, a feeling of peace washed over me.
I *had* to let it go. I was getting a pedicure. What was the point if I couldn't enjoy it? This is life. If I can't enjoy a pedicure, I'm not doing a good job of being alive. Slowly, with each massaging motion of the chair and with each little bit of work on my feet that transformed them from ugly to cute, I relaxed. I smiled. I was happy.
I was happy I could be happy. Plus, my feet look MUCH better.
I think it is not an exaggeration to say that I had a spiritual awakening of sorts in the pedicure chair today. Silly. But true. I feel more awake. I feel more at ease with the world and all of its harshness. Bad things happen. But so do pedicures.
As a bonus, I made a food discovery. I asked the salon owner if there was any good vietnamese food in my very suburban hometown. Here in whitey-ville, I'm surrounded by friends and family and I'm where I'm supposed to be given all of the stuff I need to be handling. But, I can't help craving the culinary diversity of my more metropolitan life in the bay area.
Imagine my shock when she informed me that there was a new vietnamese restaurant that had just opened and that it was *good*. Sis and I took Mom to experienc pho for the first time tonight. We followed the advice of the salon owner and discovered a delicious vietnamese deli/grocery/restaurant. Still in the euphoria of the pedicure, I savored the whole experience as divine intervention and enjoyed my meal to the fullest.
All in all, I'm finding this process surprising. I find deep sorrow in surprising nooks and crannies where I least expect it. And, I find comfort in equally strange places.
August 12, 2006
Recollecting Myself
My dad passed away. As per his wishes, we threw one hell of a party. Now, I'm spending time with my brother, sister and E as well as all of the supportive friends and family as we slowly deal with all of the details.
There are many things to take care of, and most of it is very personal and private, so I expect to be fairly quiet on the blogfront for a while.
However, I plan to post about the lighter things to remind myself to relish them, to laugh, and to enjoy life even in this time of pain.
So, the first happy thing I have to post is that brother, sister and I are going on a vacation away from home together for the first time in at least 15 years. (E is coming as well.) We're going to relax, deep sea fish (we expect dad to pull some strings and get us some good fish), and enjoy our memories before we finish packing up all of dad's things and move everything out of his house.
Second, on an even lighter note, E and I made reservations at The Madonna Inn for one of our trips around the state to deal with everything. While there, we will be taking advantage of the waterfall shower in our very kitschy room. Unfortunately, the cave man room is booked 6 months to a year in advance, so we'll be spending the evening in slightly lessor splendor. Regardless, it's going to be memorable.
My dad passed away. As per his wishes, we threw one hell of a party. Now, I'm spending time with my brother, sister and E as well as all of the supportive friends and family as we slowly deal with all of the details.
There are many things to take care of, and most of it is very personal and private, so I expect to be fairly quiet on the blogfront for a while.
However, I plan to post about the lighter things to remind myself to relish them, to laugh, and to enjoy life even in this time of pain.
So, the first happy thing I have to post is that brother, sister and I are going on a vacation away from home together for the first time in at least 15 years. (E is coming as well.) We're going to relax, deep sea fish (we expect dad to pull some strings and get us some good fish), and enjoy our memories before we finish packing up all of dad's things and move everything out of his house.
Second, on an even lighter note, E and I made reservations at The Madonna Inn for one of our trips around the state to deal with everything. While there, we will be taking advantage of the waterfall shower in our very kitschy room. Unfortunately, the cave man room is booked 6 months to a year in advance, so we'll be spending the evening in slightly lessor splendor. Regardless, it's going to be memorable.
August 1, 2006
New Frying Pan
The bar is over.
Daddy is sick.
I'm at the hospital.
He had the stubborness to wait 'til after the bar, after my birthday, and after a good visit where he appeared to be in improving health and we could all laugh together to get sick.
I can't believe how strong the power of human will is when it comes to pushing back the forces that eventually overtake us.
I'm also overwhelmed at the strength of my father's love for me.
I think I'm going to be MIA from blogland for a while.
The bar is over.
Daddy is sick.
I'm at the hospital.
He had the stubborness to wait 'til after the bar, after my birthday, and after a good visit where he appeared to be in improving health and we could all laugh together to get sick.
I can't believe how strong the power of human will is when it comes to pushing back the forces that eventually overtake us.
I'm also overwhelmed at the strength of my father's love for me.
I think I'm going to be MIA from blogland for a while.
July 28, 2006
Bar: My take
I've heard many people describe the bar as an endurance test. I disagree. An endurance test is merely one of length and stubborness. It's you versus something you know and have the will to endure.
The bar on the other hand isn't actually that long. Maybe the studying is an endurance test. But, after 2.5 months of studying, the 6 hours a day of testing and 1 hour of listening to instructions for 3 days isn't that taxing. Sure, it's tiring, but it's not the test itself that's tiring you out.
What is taxing, instead, is the mental warfare. BarBri will succeed in their best efforts to freak you out -- that's how they make their money -- off the paranoia. I hate them. There are plenty of strategies that could help people learn about and understand how to take this test for exactly what it is -- a stupid test of tactics and a little bit of knowledge. BarBri does not teach any of those things. Instead, they will assign you to do things you are bound to fail at, which will freak you out. They will assign too much work and not enough strategy. Your fellow test takers will add to your stress levels with their comments and demeanor as well as the tales of their mishaps. And no matter how serene you generally are, you will wage mental warfare with yourself.
Finally, you should expect the worst because some of it will probably happen. How you handle these things is much more indicative of whether you will keep it together than how many of the BarBri assigned questions you did.
So, for what it's worth, in hindsight, myself and/or people I know would have been better off if we had made the following assumptions:
This is not a test of anything other than your ability to put up with shit that sucks, a bit of legal knowledge, and your ability to write for people who aren't reading (a skill I'm betting most of us never really tried to develop before). I'd say it's 1/3, 1/3, 1/3.
BarBri and the California Bar would have you believe this test is mostly about the law. They lie. You can get the law wrong and pass. You just have to spot the issues they want you to spot, keep your cool, and get lucky on your MBE guesses and the grader who reads your essays. What a great filter for entrance to the noble profession! NOT!
Of course, if I pass, I'll probably move on with my life without doing a single thing to fight the obviously horrid process and make it better for those who come after me. Life is just too short. Sorry guys.
I've heard many people describe the bar as an endurance test. I disagree. An endurance test is merely one of length and stubborness. It's you versus something you know and have the will to endure.
The bar on the other hand isn't actually that long. Maybe the studying is an endurance test. But, after 2.5 months of studying, the 6 hours a day of testing and 1 hour of listening to instructions for 3 days isn't that taxing. Sure, it's tiring, but it's not the test itself that's tiring you out.
What is taxing, instead, is the mental warfare. BarBri will succeed in their best efforts to freak you out -- that's how they make their money -- off the paranoia. I hate them. There are plenty of strategies that could help people learn about and understand how to take this test for exactly what it is -- a stupid test of tactics and a little bit of knowledge. BarBri does not teach any of those things. Instead, they will assign you to do things you are bound to fail at, which will freak you out. They will assign too much work and not enough strategy. Your fellow test takers will add to your stress levels with their comments and demeanor as well as the tales of their mishaps. And no matter how serene you generally are, you will wage mental warfare with yourself.
Finally, you should expect the worst because some of it will probably happen. How you handle these things is much more indicative of whether you will keep it together than how many of the BarBri assigned questions you did.
So, for what it's worth, in hindsight, myself and/or people I know would have been better off if we had made the following assumptions:
- They will start the test late and you will be surrounded by 1800 freaking out JDs waiting outside the doors that won't open. For an hour. With no explanation. In the heat wave.
- Your 3 least favorite subjects are going to come up 1-3 on the first day of essays.
- You will realize halfway through a performance exam that you are doing it ALL WRONG. If you keep your cool, you will have time to fix it. If you don't...
- At times, the air conditioning system will suck, alternatively cooking you and freezing you.
- Some proctors will think it's funny to make jokes like, "how do you think you are going to pass this test if you can't even get the right form in the right envelope?"
- Your computer will freak out and you will have to hand-write.
- You will get food poisoning on the night after the first day and you will puke all night, getting no sleep.
- You will be completely unable to sleep the night before the first day, no matter how well you handle stress.
- You will get in a car accident on the drive home from the bar exam (This one is a serious one to consider. Think about getting a ride. Many of my friends and I were brain dead and had tales of almost causing accidents. One of us did.)
This is not a test of anything other than your ability to put up with shit that sucks, a bit of legal knowledge, and your ability to write for people who aren't reading (a skill I'm betting most of us never really tried to develop before). I'd say it's 1/3, 1/3, 1/3.
BarBri and the California Bar would have you believe this test is mostly about the law. They lie. You can get the law wrong and pass. You just have to spot the issues they want you to spot, keep your cool, and get lucky on your MBE guesses and the grader who reads your essays. What a great filter for entrance to the noble profession! NOT!
Of course, if I pass, I'll probably move on with my life without doing a single thing to fight the obviously horrid process and make it better for those who come after me. Life is just too short. Sorry guys.
Thirty
I'm feeling pretty cool. The cops showed up at my impromptu post-bar 30th birthday party.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be the person I'd become. Amused does not begin to describe the feeling.
Oh, and also, the bar sucks. But it's over. More on that shite later. For now, I'm home, still in shock at the idea of having a life again, and apparently, working my way towards being a private nuisance.
I'm feeling pretty cool. The cops showed up at my impromptu post-bar 30th birthday party.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be the person I'd become. Amused does not begin to describe the feeling.
Oh, and also, the bar sucks. But it's over. More on that shite later. For now, I'm home, still in shock at the idea of having a life again, and apparently, working my way towards being a private nuisance.
July 23, 2006
Bar: Reality
After 9 weeks of straight studying, even if you've done everything you personally could have done, you did not, could not have, done it all.
So two nights before the exam, I keep studying, but lightly, and I'm doing my best to maintain the confidence that it's going to be okay.
Unfortunately, tonight is where I have to let it go and realize that there is a large element of luck in all of this.
Because all of what is necessary to ensure success will not fit in my brain. So I'm reduced to hoping that the stuff that's in there is enough to be okay.
I think it's healthy to face the demons. I'm glad I'm doing it tonight.
Here's to hoping tomorrow, or at least Tuesday, I'll be back in the zone.
After 9 weeks of straight studying, even if you've done everything you personally could have done, you did not, could not have, done it all.
So two nights before the exam, I keep studying, but lightly, and I'm doing my best to maintain the confidence that it's going to be okay.
Unfortunately, tonight is where I have to let it go and realize that there is a large element of luck in all of this.
Because all of what is necessary to ensure success will not fit in my brain. So I'm reduced to hoping that the stuff that's in there is enough to be okay.
I think it's healthy to face the demons. I'm glad I'm doing it tonight.
Here's to hoping tomorrow, or at least Tuesday, I'll be back in the zone.
July 21, 2006
Bar: in the zone
A week from now, I'll be on vacation.
I've just got to go through the motions of studying for 4 days and the test for 3. It's all scheduled except for packing and possibly buying one of the allowed timepieces.
I'm calm. It's the comfortable hyper-calm from sports.
I've never felt this way about an exam before. The forced high-performance calm had previously been reserved for sports where I could break my neck if I fucked up.
I can take the bar exam again. I know this. And yet, my body/brain complex has apparently been put under enough stress in this whole process to think it deserves the same level of controlled adrenaline as competing a trick on your own that you've never done without a crash mat and a spotter to save you.
I always understood how much of a mental game sports were. There were always a few people who were so confident and had so much mind-over-body control that they could return from a 3-month hiatus, 10 pounds heavy and out of shape, only to kick the ass of those who had been in the gym 6 days a week. In diving, the hiatus could be years (water hurts much less than ground).
Why could these bad-asses do this? Sure some of it was raw talent. But one thing they all had in common was knowing that they could do it. Those kids, they had this serene confidence that at times could be more important than preparation and strength. We often thought they were stupid for trying tricks that they clearly weren't in good enough shape to pull. They always landed and grinned.
It's fascinating that the bar is just as much of a mind game as successfully flipping and twisting your body in ways it shouldn't be torqued. It's just contorting your brain to store way more than is remotely comfortable in a way that you can access it all. And believing that a) the stuff is in there; b) you can get to it; and c) when you can't you're gonna fake it well enough that no one's gonna notice.
So my take home point is this: now that we're running out of time to prepare, it's time to believe.
A week from now, I'll be on vacation.
I've just got to go through the motions of studying for 4 days and the test for 3. It's all scheduled except for packing and possibly buying one of the allowed timepieces.
I'm calm. It's the comfortable hyper-calm from sports.
I've never felt this way about an exam before. The forced high-performance calm had previously been reserved for sports where I could break my neck if I fucked up.
I can take the bar exam again. I know this. And yet, my body/brain complex has apparently been put under enough stress in this whole process to think it deserves the same level of controlled adrenaline as competing a trick on your own that you've never done without a crash mat and a spotter to save you.
I always understood how much of a mental game sports were. There were always a few people who were so confident and had so much mind-over-body control that they could return from a 3-month hiatus, 10 pounds heavy and out of shape, only to kick the ass of those who had been in the gym 6 days a week. In diving, the hiatus could be years (water hurts much less than ground).
Why could these bad-asses do this? Sure some of it was raw talent. But one thing they all had in common was knowing that they could do it. Those kids, they had this serene confidence that at times could be more important than preparation and strength. We often thought they were stupid for trying tricks that they clearly weren't in good enough shape to pull. They always landed and grinned.
It's fascinating that the bar is just as much of a mind game as successfully flipping and twisting your body in ways it shouldn't be torqued. It's just contorting your brain to store way more than is remotely comfortable in a way that you can access it all. And believing that a) the stuff is in there; b) you can get to it; and c) when you can't you're gonna fake it well enough that no one's gonna notice.
So my take home point is this: now that we're running out of time to prepare, it's time to believe.
July 19, 2006
Is this normal?
My mom's husband left me a voicemail this morning. He was somewhat frantic because he couldn't find my mom, didn't know where she was, and was concerned that perhaps something happened with my dad, or, uh... she just left, and, well, he'd called everyone, and, uhh...
Needless to say, when I got the message I immediately called my mom.
She was fine.
Her husband had found her hours ago. He'd forgotten that she'd told him goodbye this AM and she was at the meeting she'd told him she would be attending.
Is this going to happen to me when I get to be their age?
My mom's husband left me a voicemail this morning. He was somewhat frantic because he couldn't find my mom, didn't know where she was, and was concerned that perhaps something happened with my dad, or, uh... she just left, and, well, he'd called everyone, and, uhh...
Needless to say, when I got the message I immediately called my mom.
She was fine.
Her husband had found her hours ago. He'd forgotten that she'd told him goodbye this AM and she was at the meeting she'd told him she would be attending.
Is this going to happen to me when I get to be their age?
July 18, 2006
Bar: countdown
1 week from right now, I'll be in the stupid exam.
Thank goodness. It's about time to end this madness. I want my life back.
7 days. I'm so relieved. For me, the hard part is over. I found it difficult to motivate myself to put in the time to finish what I wanted to do for the last few weeks, but somehow I dug deep and managed to get most of it done.
And now, the motivation isn't a problem. This morning, I feel like how I feel with half a mile left on a run and I decide to finish at some ridiculous pace that I can't really sustain. I tell myself, you can do *anything* for half a mile, let's just get this over with. Then I just focus on my breathing, and before I know it, I'm done.
1 week from right now, I'll be in the stupid exam.
Thank goodness. It's about time to end this madness. I want my life back.
7 days. I'm so relieved. For me, the hard part is over. I found it difficult to motivate myself to put in the time to finish what I wanted to do for the last few weeks, but somehow I dug deep and managed to get most of it done.
And now, the motivation isn't a problem. This morning, I feel like how I feel with half a mile left on a run and I decide to finish at some ridiculous pace that I can't really sustain. I tell myself, you can do *anything* for half a mile, let's just get this over with. Then I just focus on my breathing, and before I know it, I'm done.
July 17, 2006
Bar: A pleasant surprise?
A few weeks back, I had to face the fact that I really needed help on the essays, so I ordered some more materials and added some additional essays to the already jam-packed schedule.
Unfortunately, something had to give.
So, I substituted bar essays for training for and running in a gorgeous half-marathon in wine country. This was the second year in a row where I'd paid the entrance fee to that race and then had to bail because life got in the way. (You can guarantee I'll try to do it next year, now it's personal...)
But, I found a way to replace my runs and study by doing walks and flashcards. Initially, I did it alone, babbling out loud to myself, and no doubt making my neighbors certain that I was crazy.
More recently, A and I go together. Every day, we quiz each other, we walk, and we vent. On average, we do about 1-2 hours of good solid review per day. It's a nice way to break up the day. And oddly, stuff seems to stick better with the change of scenery and the physical exertion.
Apparently, it's a nice way to get more exercise than I realized as well. I added up my mileage for last week and was shocked to find that although I only went for two runs, I managed to clock in 33.9 miles on the shoes.
At this rate, I should be on track to be able to run a half-marathon within a few weeks of the bar without any problem. What a pleasant surprise.
A few weeks back, I had to face the fact that I really needed help on the essays, so I ordered some more materials and added some additional essays to the already jam-packed schedule.
Unfortunately, something had to give.
So, I substituted bar essays for training for and running in a gorgeous half-marathon in wine country. This was the second year in a row where I'd paid the entrance fee to that race and then had to bail because life got in the way. (You can guarantee I'll try to do it next year, now it's personal...)
But, I found a way to replace my runs and study by doing walks and flashcards. Initially, I did it alone, babbling out loud to myself, and no doubt making my neighbors certain that I was crazy.
More recently, A and I go together. Every day, we quiz each other, we walk, and we vent. On average, we do about 1-2 hours of good solid review per day. It's a nice way to break up the day. And oddly, stuff seems to stick better with the change of scenery and the physical exertion.
Apparently, it's a nice way to get more exercise than I realized as well. I added up my mileage for last week and was shocked to find that although I only went for two runs, I managed to clock in 33.9 miles on the shoes.
At this rate, I should be on track to be able to run a half-marathon within a few weeks of the bar without any problem. What a pleasant surprise.
July 16, 2006
Bar: This sucks
I think this is another low point.
I can see the bar coming. It's close enough to have me mildly stressed. It's still far enough away, however, that I'm daunted at the idea of keeping this up for the remaining 8 days. Those 8 days seem very long.
Plus, my dad is still in the hospital and I'm just generally bummed about that. He's slowly getting better, but he's depressed and not as healthy as he wants to be.
I found out through the family grapevine that he got some mildly bad news a few days ago, which he has been hiding from me. Ordinarily, I'm in constant contact with the nurses and I know about his health better than he does. But right now, I can't do the multiple phone calls, the waiting on hold, the sweet-talking of the stressed out nurses. So I'm in the dark.
Even in the hospital, he wants to take care of me. He's my dad.
And I want to be there to take care of him. Being there seems more important than this daily onslaught of cramming and spewing law that wouldn't pass muster in any acceptable legal practice anywhere.
But, he's not in any state where I can do anything for him. I want to go for selfish reasons, to assuage my guilt, and to get away from all of this. He wants me here. Studying.
Like I said. This sucks.
I think this is another low point.
I can see the bar coming. It's close enough to have me mildly stressed. It's still far enough away, however, that I'm daunted at the idea of keeping this up for the remaining 8 days. Those 8 days seem very long.
Plus, my dad is still in the hospital and I'm just generally bummed about that. He's slowly getting better, but he's depressed and not as healthy as he wants to be.
I found out through the family grapevine that he got some mildly bad news a few days ago, which he has been hiding from me. Ordinarily, I'm in constant contact with the nurses and I know about his health better than he does. But right now, I can't do the multiple phone calls, the waiting on hold, the sweet-talking of the stressed out nurses. So I'm in the dark.
Even in the hospital, he wants to take care of me. He's my dad.
And I want to be there to take care of him. Being there seems more important than this daily onslaught of cramming and spewing law that wouldn't pass muster in any acceptable legal practice anywhere.
But, he's not in any state where I can do anything for him. I want to go for selfish reasons, to assuage my guilt, and to get away from all of this. He wants me here. Studying.
Like I said. This sucks.
Good Quote
Live your life each day as you would climb a mountain. An occasional glance toward the summit keeps the goal in mind, but many beautiful scenes are to be observed from each new vantage point. climb slowly, steadily, enjoying each passing moment; and the view from the summit will serve as a fitting climax for the journey.
-- Harold V. Melchert, courtesy of Jeff Adachi's intro to the contracts chapter.
Live your life each day as you would climb a mountain. An occasional glance toward the summit keeps the goal in mind, but many beautiful scenes are to be observed from each new vantage point. climb slowly, steadily, enjoying each passing moment; and the view from the summit will serve as a fitting climax for the journey.
-- Harold V. Melchert, courtesy of Jeff Adachi's intro to the contracts chapter.
July 15, 2006
Bar: New Least Favorite Subject
Dear California Bar Examiners:
Constitutional law is an extremely inappropriate subject to test under the "memorize an outline and spit it out" approach. You may have noticed that con law is a big grey box of wishy-washiness.
Unfortunately, your graders have 2.5 minutes per essay and need bold headings, tests with 3 prongs, and conclusive answers.
This makes Con Law my new least favorite subject.
Just thought you might want to know.
Sincerely,
BT
Dear California Bar Examiners:
Constitutional law is an extremely inappropriate subject to test under the "memorize an outline and spit it out" approach. You may have noticed that con law is a big grey box of wishy-washiness.
Unfortunately, your graders have 2.5 minutes per essay and need bold headings, tests with 3 prongs, and conclusive answers.
This makes Con Law my new least favorite subject.
Just thought you might want to know.
Sincerely,
BT
Awww...
Our neighbor across the street is turning 15 today. He's out in his front yard with all of his friends. The boys are vaguely identical, each with black T-shirts that are two sizes too big and longish hair that falls in their faces. There are also a few girls who look about 5 years older than all of the boys.
Earlier this week, I found a piece of paper sticking out of the mailbox. Basically, it said:
"My band will be playing at my birthday party at 3 PM. Please come check us out. If you don't come, please note that the drums will be loud. Please do not call the police."
I'm all for it. I'm bummed I'm locked in the house. I think it would be fun to go watch and listen to a band of 15-year-olds play music. From what I've heard of his practice, they should be somewhat decent. Plus, for once, it's not us making the annoying noise.
Too bad I've got to stay inside and study Con Law. Which, by the way, contains WAY too many intricate details to fit nicely into the remaining open space in my brain.
Oh, there goes the band. Boy, they are loud. He wasn't kidding. At least I can listen and study...
Our neighbor across the street is turning 15 today. He's out in his front yard with all of his friends. The boys are vaguely identical, each with black T-shirts that are two sizes too big and longish hair that falls in their faces. There are also a few girls who look about 5 years older than all of the boys.
Earlier this week, I found a piece of paper sticking out of the mailbox. Basically, it said:
"My band will be playing at my birthday party at 3 PM. Please come check us out. If you don't come, please note that the drums will be loud. Please do not call the police."
I'm all for it. I'm bummed I'm locked in the house. I think it would be fun to go watch and listen to a band of 15-year-olds play music. From what I've heard of his practice, they should be somewhat decent. Plus, for once, it's not us making the annoying noise.
Too bad I've got to stay inside and study Con Law. Which, by the way, contains WAY too many intricate details to fit nicely into the remaining open space in my brain.
Oh, there goes the band. Boy, they are loud. He wasn't kidding. At least I can listen and study...
July 14, 2006
Surprise!
The doorbell just rang. I'm looking pretty hot these days (Why yes, these are the same men's boxer shorts that I was wearing all day yesterday. Thank you for noticing.)
Needless to say, I didn't make the FedEx guy's day.
But he made mine. Big box full of candy, cookies, etc, from the firm!
I heart unexpected indulgence food while I'm studying.
Okay. Back to property.
The doorbell just rang. I'm looking pretty hot these days (Why yes, these are the same men's boxer shorts that I was wearing all day yesterday. Thank you for noticing.)
Needless to say, I didn't make the FedEx guy's day.
But he made mine. Big box full of candy, cookies, etc, from the firm!
I heart unexpected indulgence food while I'm studying.
Okay. Back to property.
Asian-inspired BBQ
In celebration of the night off I took last night, I present the beef recipe I made/adapted, which along with the spicy soba salad and macaroons made for a wonderful day of cooking study breaks. Today, the day of leftovers, promises to be more focused.
Lemon grass beef skewers
1 lb sirloin, trimmed and sliced into 1/8 inch strips
1/4 white onion, chopped into pieces that will fit on skewers (Approx 1/2 in X 1/2 in)
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped into similar size pieces as onion
2 serrano chiles, seeded (or unseeded if you are a spice lover)
rice vinegar
olive oil
splash of red and white wine (if you have it laying around)
1 bunch of cilantro
2 stocks of lemon grass, outer layer peeled off and chopped
1-2 tsp sugar.
Directions: Put sirloin strips, onion and bell pepper pieces into a dish for marinating. Puree remaining ingredients in food processor and pour over meat and vegetables. Let sit in the fridge for a few hours. Prepare skewers by sticking the skewer through the meat at one end, then a piece of vegetable, then accordion the meat back, then another vegetable and so on until you need to use another piece of meat. Grill until the meat is done to your desired amount. Remove from skewers and enjoy.
Happy Friday!
In celebration of the night off I took last night, I present the beef recipe I made/adapted, which along with the spicy soba salad and macaroons made for a wonderful day of cooking study breaks. Today, the day of leftovers, promises to be more focused.
Lemon grass beef skewers
1 lb sirloin, trimmed and sliced into 1/8 inch strips
1/4 white onion, chopped into pieces that will fit on skewers (Approx 1/2 in X 1/2 in)
1 green bell pepper, seeded and chopped into similar size pieces as onion
2 serrano chiles, seeded (or unseeded if you are a spice lover)
rice vinegar
olive oil
splash of red and white wine (if you have it laying around)
1 bunch of cilantro
2 stocks of lemon grass, outer layer peeled off and chopped
1-2 tsp sugar.
Directions: Put sirloin strips, onion and bell pepper pieces into a dish for marinating. Puree remaining ingredients in food processor and pour over meat and vegetables. Let sit in the fridge for a few hours. Prepare skewers by sticking the skewer through the meat at one end, then a piece of vegetable, then accordion the meat back, then another vegetable and so on until you need to use another piece of meat. Grill until the meat is done to your desired amount. Remove from skewers and enjoy.
Happy Friday!
July 13, 2006
Bar: hints for those who are dense like me
Say it with me now: DO NOT THINK.
The California bar wants to see that you can memorize an outline and do a cursory recitation and cut-and-paste.
Issue spotting is really just pasting an outline into the answer and filling in half of the items with, "this is not an issue because there are no facts to indicate..."
Take for example, an essay question that says, "Bob moves for summary judgment on the grounds that he was not legally responsible for Peter's injuries. Did the court properly grant his motion?"
Please forget about every motion for summary judgment you've ever read or written. This is not a motion for summary judgment on the grounds of lack of "legal causation." Sure, it might look like that is the issue of law upon which relief is requested. But no.
In bar land, a motion for summary judgment says to the court, "I say there are no issues of triable fact, tell me otherwise." The whole burden on the moving party thing... yeah, ignore that. The burden is never on the bar examiners.
Just follow the outline, do one paragraph with a heading for every element of negligence and ignore the fact that an MSJ usually asks the court to find identified and argued issues to be true or false as a matter of law. They wanna see their duty, breach, causation, and damages even if they don't ask for 'em.
They wanna see their outlines. I'm supposed to give 'em back their outlines. Why is this so hard for me to understand?
Say it with me now: DO NOT THINK.
The California bar wants to see that you can memorize an outline and do a cursory recitation and cut-and-paste.
Issue spotting is really just pasting an outline into the answer and filling in half of the items with, "this is not an issue because there are no facts to indicate..."
Take for example, an essay question that says, "Bob moves for summary judgment on the grounds that he was not legally responsible for Peter's injuries. Did the court properly grant his motion?"
Please forget about every motion for summary judgment you've ever read or written. This is not a motion for summary judgment on the grounds of lack of "legal causation." Sure, it might look like that is the issue of law upon which relief is requested. But no.
In bar land, a motion for summary judgment says to the court, "I say there are no issues of triable fact, tell me otherwise." The whole burden on the moving party thing... yeah, ignore that. The burden is never on the bar examiners.
Just follow the outline, do one paragraph with a heading for every element of negligence and ignore the fact that an MSJ usually asks the court to find identified and argued issues to be true or false as a matter of law. They wanna see their duty, breach, causation, and damages even if they don't ask for 'em.
They wanna see their outlines. I'm supposed to give 'em back their outlines. Why is this so hard for me to understand?
July 12, 2006
Bar: Multiple Choice Questions Question
Do any of you have an opinion about the "released questions?"
Seems to me like they are the easiest set of questions I've done for every subject that I've done 'em for. Easier than the BarBri simulated exam. Way easier than the PMBR questions, along the lines of the BarBri introductory questions for the topic, if not easier.
I've heard many people claim that PMBR questions are more indicative of the type of questions you will see on the MBE. But I was under the impression that the released questions in the Barbri MDR were actually NCBE questions.
So, I'd love some feedback from those of you who are in this madness or who've been there before.
If I only have time to do one set, should I take solace in the released questions or keep pushing through on the PMBR questions?
Thanks in advance.
**UPDATE: So, thanks to Frolics & Detours we have a theory: the released questions are easy because NCBE doesn't release their tricks. Makes sense. Also, I thought you could order actual MBE questions from them, but it turns out, you can only order "sample" exams, one of which is reproduced in the released questions in the MDR. So, PMBR it is.
Do any of you have an opinion about the "released questions?"
Seems to me like they are the easiest set of questions I've done for every subject that I've done 'em for. Easier than the BarBri simulated exam. Way easier than the PMBR questions, along the lines of the BarBri introductory questions for the topic, if not easier.
I've heard many people claim that PMBR questions are more indicative of the type of questions you will see on the MBE. But I was under the impression that the released questions in the Barbri MDR were actually NCBE questions.
So, I'd love some feedback from those of you who are in this madness or who've been there before.
If I only have time to do one set, should I take solace in the released questions or keep pushing through on the PMBR questions?
Thanks in advance.
**UPDATE: So, thanks to Frolics & Detours we have a theory: the released questions are easy because NCBE doesn't release their tricks. Makes sense. Also, I thought you could order actual MBE questions from them, but it turns out, you can only order "sample" exams, one of which is reproduced in the released questions in the MDR. So, PMBR it is.
July 11, 2006
Bar: the final ascent
Today was the last BarBri lecture. Now it's just me, enough books to load 2 llamas, and 336 hours 'til the exam.
Overall, I'm okay. Grumpy. Tired. Not excited about the next 14 days. But, I will do what I can do and that will be that.
On the bright side, I can already imagine what it's going to be like to have a life again. Evenings. Vacation. Cooking. Just not right now.
Today was the last BarBri lecture. Now it's just me, enough books to load 2 llamas, and 336 hours 'til the exam.
Overall, I'm okay. Grumpy. Tired. Not excited about the next 14 days. But, I will do what I can do and that will be that.
On the bright side, I can already imagine what it's going to be like to have a life again. Evenings. Vacation. Cooking. Just not right now.
July 10, 2006
July 9, 2006
Bar: You're Kidding Me
Just got another essay back from the good old barbri graders. I passed! There's a first time for everything, I guess.
Only, I'm fairly certain I should have failed. Compared to the sample answer, I went off on quite a few tangents and didn't spend as much time on the "big issues." This has been the reason I've failed in the past and what I need to avoid doing on the bar.
Thanks for the positive feedback barbri grader, but I'm not buying it. Back to learning how to be a clone.
Just got another essay back from the good old barbri graders. I passed! There's a first time for everything, I guess.
Only, I'm fairly certain I should have failed. Compared to the sample answer, I went off on quite a few tangents and didn't spend as much time on the "big issues." This has been the reason I've failed in the past and what I need to avoid doing on the bar.
Thanks for the positive feedback barbri grader, but I'm not buying it. Back to learning how to be a clone.
What you need?
Apparently, there was a piece on NPR about Bonobos. A stopped by last night and gave us her rendition of the interview. We laughed with E2 (who leaves for China today!) 'til it hurt.
The woman was crazy. She believed she was one with the Bonobos. They substitute sex for aggression. They throw feces. She taught them to give her their feces. So they did. Every time they saw her for 4 years. I'm thinkin' they were doing a little experimentation of their own...
Apparently, there was a piece on NPR about Bonobos. A stopped by last night and gave us her rendition of the interview. We laughed with E2 (who leaves for China today!) 'til it hurt.
The woman was crazy. She believed she was one with the Bonobos. They substitute sex for aggression. They throw feces. She taught them to give her their feces. So they did. Every time they saw her for 4 years. I'm thinkin' they were doing a little experimentation of their own...
July 7, 2006
Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy
Last night was the best night I've had in a while. My top 10 favorite things?
1. A dream where I got to hang out with my Papa.
2. No studying after 5 PM!
3. A 4-mile run with E2.
4. Friends.
5. Cowboy Caviar.
6. Carne Asada Tacos with home-made guacamole from E2.
7. Spicy shrimp from D.
8. A sour cream chocolate cake.
9. Dark chocolate icing (in hindsight, I should have used the sour cream dark/milk icing recommended by Nigella, but I didn't have enough sour cream).
10. Staying up talking 'til 1 AM and then sleeping in my own bed with E.
I'm ready to put in a few good days of attack now (starting with a nap this afternoon...)
Last night was the best night I've had in a while. My top 10 favorite things?
1. A dream where I got to hang out with my Papa.
2. No studying after 5 PM!
3. A 4-mile run with E2.
4. Friends.
5. Cowboy Caviar.
6. Carne Asada Tacos with home-made guacamole from E2.
7. Spicy shrimp from D.
8. A sour cream chocolate cake.
9. Dark chocolate icing (in hindsight, I should have used the sour cream dark/milk icing recommended by Nigella, but I didn't have enough sour cream).
10. Staying up talking 'til 1 AM and then sleeping in my own bed with E.
I'm ready to put in a few good days of attack now (starting with a nap this afternoon...)
July 5, 2006
Introspection
I am, you see, what some would refer to as wound up. Overly protective. I'm an introvert who often successfully masquerades as an extrovert. But even at my most extroverted, I have to think about the majority of the things I communicate before I let them go free. I'm often jealous of the spontaneous joy and sadness that my extroverted friends express in public.
But. I do not work that way. For the most part, I like to think about how I feel before I express it.
Which is why this whole spill my guts about the bar on the blog thing is weird. Often, I'm expressing my thoughts and feelings before I've had a chance to fully process them. I find my response to the bar is very human, the way I write about it on the blog.
I read my posts to see that I am being selfish. That I am focused on me and my life to the exclusion of humor or the news. I'm overly concerned with details that won't matter in the future and I'm talking about them. I'm silly. I over-react. I'm not thinking enough. I'm boring. And what I write doesn't sound like how I want my words to sound.
I'm sure this is a combination of many things (what I'm doing with my life on a daily basis isn't how I'd like to spend it, stress, and the fact that my filters aren't on when it comes to bar posts, to name a few...).
Regardless, I think one of the hardest things about the bar study period is that it brings out some of your worst qualities. On top of everything else. Who needs to deal with their failings as a human in the middle of this mess?
Oh. Right. That's how we grow into better people. Fun. Please excuse me while I go grow some more.
I am, you see, what some would refer to as wound up. Overly protective. I'm an introvert who often successfully masquerades as an extrovert. But even at my most extroverted, I have to think about the majority of the things I communicate before I let them go free. I'm often jealous of the spontaneous joy and sadness that my extroverted friends express in public.
But. I do not work that way. For the most part, I like to think about how I feel before I express it.
Which is why this whole spill my guts about the bar on the blog thing is weird. Often, I'm expressing my thoughts and feelings before I've had a chance to fully process them. I find my response to the bar is very human, the way I write about it on the blog.
I read my posts to see that I am being selfish. That I am focused on me and my life to the exclusion of humor or the news. I'm overly concerned with details that won't matter in the future and I'm talking about them. I'm silly. I over-react. I'm not thinking enough. I'm boring. And what I write doesn't sound like how I want my words to sound.
I'm sure this is a combination of many things (what I'm doing with my life on a daily basis isn't how I'd like to spend it, stress, and the fact that my filters aren't on when it comes to bar posts, to name a few...).
Regardless, I think one of the hardest things about the bar study period is that it brings out some of your worst qualities. On top of everything else. Who needs to deal with their failings as a human in the middle of this mess?
Oh. Right. That's how we grow into better people. Fun. Please excuse me while I go grow some more.
July 4, 2006
Bar: Sigh
Happy Fourth of July. I'm home. Exhausted, but happy to be home, despite the holiday of studying.
I take a small bit of pleasure in the knowledge that at least the poor folks at BarBri are working too. I received an emailed response to yet another essay.
Fail.
At least I'm failing in the same way. I'm actually gratified to see that I think I've identified my problem correctly. This grader actually came right out and said,
"ADVERSE POSSESSION IS A BIG ISSUE HERE - YOU NEEDED TO RECOGNIZE THAT, AND GIVE EACH OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR IT A HEADING, AND AN IRAC TREATMENT."
Oh. Right. Silly me. I only gave it a general heading and two paragraphs. I wrote this essay back when I thought "BIG ISSUE" meant something that could go either way and was worthy of discussion. I thought they were looking for issues that were actually interesting to discuss, like something that would actually change the outcome of the case or go to court instead of settle.
But now, I'm slowly getting the point. "BIG ISSUE" means a big black heading in the BarBri outline towards the front of the topic. If I see one of those, I am to devote much time to its discussion, even if it's apparent from the facts that the issue is truly a non-issue.
Slowly, slowly, my practice exams are metamorphosizing into outlines with blanks filled in by a monkey with a typewriter. It's too bad a monkey isn't on the list of crap you're allowed to bring into the exam.
Happy Fourth of July. I'm home. Exhausted, but happy to be home, despite the holiday of studying.
I take a small bit of pleasure in the knowledge that at least the poor folks at BarBri are working too. I received an emailed response to yet another essay.
Fail.
At least I'm failing in the same way. I'm actually gratified to see that I think I've identified my problem correctly. This grader actually came right out and said,
"ADVERSE POSSESSION IS A BIG ISSUE HERE - YOU NEEDED TO RECOGNIZE THAT, AND GIVE EACH OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR IT A HEADING, AND AN IRAC TREATMENT."
Oh. Right. Silly me. I only gave it a general heading and two paragraphs. I wrote this essay back when I thought "BIG ISSUE" meant something that could go either way and was worthy of discussion. I thought they were looking for issues that were actually interesting to discuss, like something that would actually change the outcome of the case or go to court instead of settle.
But now, I'm slowly getting the point. "BIG ISSUE" means a big black heading in the BarBri outline towards the front of the topic. If I see one of those, I am to devote much time to its discussion, even if it's apparent from the facts that the issue is truly a non-issue.
Slowly, slowly, my practice exams are metamorphosizing into outlines with blanks filled in by a monkey with a typewriter. It's too bad a monkey isn't on the list of crap you're allowed to bring into the exam.
July 3, 2006
Bar: kick me while I'm down, why don't ya?
I think I've established that I suck at the essays. I've got a plan that involves much outlining, many practice essays, and much reading of sample answers.
But I thought I could at least relax about the MBEs. Guess Again. I just graded a chunk of 50 PMBR questions. I was looking forward to the break. It was one of my favorite topics. One of my strengths.
Or so I thought.
Try 44%.
Not 44% wrong. 44% correct.
Looks like I won't be swapping out the multiple choice for more essays after all...
***UPDATE: I counted wrong. The good news is, I'm back in the comfort land of passing this subject. The bad news is, I've lost the ability to count and do simple math, and I'm clearly lacking the skill required to evaluate things that seem out of the ordinary and look for facts that would explain their existence. Which brings me back to why I suck at the essays...
I think I've established that I suck at the essays. I've got a plan that involves much outlining, many practice essays, and much reading of sample answers.
But I thought I could at least relax about the MBEs. Guess Again. I just graded a chunk of 50 PMBR questions. I was looking forward to the break. It was one of my favorite topics. One of my strengths.
Or so I thought.
Try 44%.
Not 44% wrong. 44% correct.
Looks like I won't be swapping out the multiple choice for more essays after all...
***UPDATE: I counted wrong. The good news is, I'm back in the comfort land of passing this subject. The bad news is, I've lost the ability to count and do simple math, and I'm clearly lacking the skill required to evaluate things that seem out of the ordinary and look for facts that would explain their existence. Which brings me back to why I suck at the essays...
July 2, 2006
Bar: Romance
Last night, I drove to the nearest big city to my hometown to pick up E from the Amtrack station. From there, we drove to the cute old town area and picked a restaurant on the river for a late dinner.
A night off! A date with my husband! It was glorious.
Towards the end of dinner, we took our wine glasses outside to the balcony on the river to watch the fireworks display. We silently looked at the sky and held hands, basking in the sweet romance of the moment.
That is, 'til I busted out with,
You know...back in the day, fireworks were considered an ultrahazardous activity and so you were strictly liable for any harm that resulted from their use. But now, they are so common place that they are governed by ordinary negligence standards.
Do I know how to whisper sweet nothings, or what?
Last night, I drove to the nearest big city to my hometown to pick up E from the Amtrack station. From there, we drove to the cute old town area and picked a restaurant on the river for a late dinner.
A night off! A date with my husband! It was glorious.
Towards the end of dinner, we took our wine glasses outside to the balcony on the river to watch the fireworks display. We silently looked at the sky and held hands, basking in the sweet romance of the moment.
That is, 'til I busted out with,
You know...back in the day, fireworks were considered an ultrahazardous activity and so you were strictly liable for any harm that resulted from their use. But now, they are so common place that they are governed by ordinary negligence standards.
Do I know how to whisper sweet nothings, or what?
July 1, 2006
Quote of the day: Ecstasy-fed pumas
Valleywag's take on Marissa Mayer's (VP at Google) Businessweek interview:
[Google VP Marissa] Mayer says:
There certainly are some engineers who tire of working on one
particular task and want to move on to a new task.
Mayer means: "You've heard of Geek A.D.D.? Add that to a PhD and a sense
of entitlement, and 'herding cats' becomes a woefully inadequate
metaphor. Try 'herding ecstasy-fed pumas.'"
Valleywag's take on Marissa Mayer's (VP at Google) Businessweek interview:
[Google VP Marissa] Mayer says:
There certainly are some engineers who tire of working on one
particular task and want to move on to a new task.
Mayer means: "You've heard of Geek A.D.D.? Add that to a PhD and a sense
of entitlement, and 'herding cats' becomes a woefully inadequate
metaphor. Try 'herding ecstasy-fed pumas.'"
June 28, 2006
A new view
This morning, I found out my dad is back in the ICU. So, I skipped barbri and drove to my hometown while listening to Fessler (PMBR contracts, I actually find him hilarious, but I'm a dork). Then, I did the whole visiting with family, supportive sister/daughter, talk with the doctors, emotionally draining thing instead of studying for a few hours.
Also, on my way to the hospital, I got a speeding ticket. In a construction zone.
By the time BarBri rolled around, a bar review class seemed like a nice break. So, I drove out to the local PM video class (that is on the same schedule as the one where I live) and I found that I could outline my way through the majority of the essays reasonably well.
4 hours later I called the ICU to hear that my dad was sleeping peacefully and doing a little better. Now, I'm at my dad's house, less than a mile from the hospital should I need to go, studying for a wee bit before some sleep.
Sometimes, when it rains, it doesn't really pour. It's just a change in the weather.
I'm not the least bit angry today. I'm just thankful. It's a nice feeling.
This morning, I found out my dad is back in the ICU. So, I skipped barbri and drove to my hometown while listening to Fessler (PMBR contracts, I actually find him hilarious, but I'm a dork). Then, I did the whole visiting with family, supportive sister/daughter, talk with the doctors, emotionally draining thing instead of studying for a few hours.
Also, on my way to the hospital, I got a speeding ticket. In a construction zone.
By the time BarBri rolled around, a bar review class seemed like a nice break. So, I drove out to the local PM video class (that is on the same schedule as the one where I live) and I found that I could outline my way through the majority of the essays reasonably well.
4 hours later I called the ICU to hear that my dad was sleeping peacefully and doing a little better. Now, I'm at my dad's house, less than a mile from the hospital should I need to go, studying for a wee bit before some sleep.
Sometimes, when it rains, it doesn't really pour. It's just a change in the weather.
I'm not the least bit angry today. I'm just thankful. It's a nice feeling.
June 27, 2006
Gourmet leftovers
If you ever find yourself with the following leftovers that are on their way out and need to be consumed:
1. 1 cup buttermilk
2. 2/3 cup sour cream
3. eggs
4. prosciutto (6 slices)
Let me *strongly* suggest the dinner course we had this fine evening:
buttermilk-sour-cream-waffles (with prosciutto)*
2 C all-purpose flour
1/2 t salt
2 T sugar
1 1/2 t baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
2/3 cup sour cream
1/3 cup half-and-half (could probably use water or milk, but we only have half-and-half for the coffee, so when milk is needed, it's half and half or nothing)
2 eggs, separated
4 T butter (half stick) melted
1/2 t vanilla
canola oil for brushing the waffle iron
1. combine dry ingredients, stir well with a whisk.
2. combine dairy ingredients, vanilla and egg yolks, stir 'til smooth.
3. Mix dairy mixture into dry ingredients with whisk 'til smooth.
4. Whip egg whites 'til soft peaks. Fold in.
5. heat waffle iron to 3.5/5. Baste with oil when ready. Spoon in slightly less than half a cup of batter and cook 'til done.
6. Serve warm, with 1-2 slices of prosciutto each. Fold and eat like a sandwich. Consider adding a tomato.
7. Mmm... savory breakfast for dinner....
*modified by the ingredients in my pantry but adapted from "Rich Buttermilk Waffles" in How to Cook Everything.
If you ever find yourself with the following leftovers that are on their way out and need to be consumed:
1. 1 cup buttermilk
2. 2/3 cup sour cream
3. eggs
4. prosciutto (6 slices)
Let me *strongly* suggest the dinner course we had this fine evening:
buttermilk-sour-cream-waffles (with prosciutto)*
2 C all-purpose flour
1/2 t salt
2 T sugar
1 1/2 t baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
2/3 cup sour cream
1/3 cup half-and-half (could probably use water or milk, but we only have half-and-half for the coffee, so when milk is needed, it's half and half or nothing)
2 eggs, separated
4 T butter (half stick) melted
1/2 t vanilla
canola oil for brushing the waffle iron
1. combine dry ingredients, stir well with a whisk.
2. combine dairy ingredients, vanilla and egg yolks, stir 'til smooth.
3. Mix dairy mixture into dry ingredients with whisk 'til smooth.
4. Whip egg whites 'til soft peaks. Fold in.
5. heat waffle iron to 3.5/5. Baste with oil when ready. Spoon in slightly less than half a cup of batter and cook 'til done.
6. Serve warm, with 1-2 slices of prosciutto each. Fold and eat like a sandwich. Consider adding a tomato.
7. Mmm... savory breakfast for dinner....
*modified by the ingredients in my pantry but adapted from "Rich Buttermilk Waffles" in How to Cook Everything.
June 26, 2006
Bar: the outsider's perspective
Tonight, I continued to express my frustration with my increasing understanding of the reality of the essay section of the California bar exam, and how it's a test of giving them what they want, instead of a test of applying the correct law to the facts for questions presented.
E said:
You know, it's not like it's the most suprising thing in the world that the exam that determines whether you are qualified to be a lawyer really just tests whether you can figure out how to game a system...
[laugh] Right.
Tonight, I continued to express my frustration with my increasing understanding of the reality of the essay section of the California bar exam, and how it's a test of giving them what they want, instead of a test of applying the correct law to the facts for questions presented.
E said:
You know, it's not like it's the most suprising thing in the world that the exam that determines whether you are qualified to be a lawyer really just tests whether you can figure out how to game a system...
[laugh] Right.
June 25, 2006
Meeting the neighbors
It's never good when the first time you meet one of your neighbors is when you sack up and go over to their house to apologize for the 1 AM noise you and your friends were making that woke up their child.
Sure, it was the right thing to do. I even showed up with wine and spoke to them in their native language. But, somehow, I just don't think we're going to be friends.
Oddly, that makes me sad.
It's never good when the first time you meet one of your neighbors is when you sack up and go over to their house to apologize for the 1 AM noise you and your friends were making that woke up their child.
Sure, it was the right thing to do. I even showed up with wine and spoke to them in their native language. But, somehow, I just don't think we're going to be friends.
Oddly, that makes me sad.
Bar: I am so angry
There is no other way to describe it. I am ANGRY at the sample answers. I am ANGRY that my brain does not work like other people's. I am ANGRY that there seems to be some secret decoder ring telling people that even when the call of the question asks for A, B, and C, they should be sure to discuss Q, and avoid discussing Z.
I'm beginning to think that the Q's are just a list of issues that we are expected to memorize and find a way to discuss on the bar exam, regardless of what the questions ask for.
That's fine. Stupid, but fine. Gimme a list of stuff I'm supposed to discuss no matter what, tell me to fit it in to the best of my abilities on the given facts, and I can do that.
Unfortunately, this is only a suspicion, and nothing that has been confirmed. I'm compiling my own list, but it's slow going. And annoying.
Near as I can tell, the written portion really is just a test of memorization of the list of important topics, and not *really* a test of your knowledge of how the law applies to the facts (because at least half of the writing barbri seems to want is all about how the law doesn't apply to these facts).
Ugggh... I'm just so angry.
There is no other way to describe it. I am ANGRY at the sample answers. I am ANGRY that my brain does not work like other people's. I am ANGRY that there seems to be some secret decoder ring telling people that even when the call of the question asks for A, B, and C, they should be sure to discuss Q, and avoid discussing Z.
I'm beginning to think that the Q's are just a list of issues that we are expected to memorize and find a way to discuss on the bar exam, regardless of what the questions ask for.
That's fine. Stupid, but fine. Gimme a list of stuff I'm supposed to discuss no matter what, tell me to fit it in to the best of my abilities on the given facts, and I can do that.
Unfortunately, this is only a suspicion, and nothing that has been confirmed. I'm compiling my own list, but it's slow going. And annoying.
Near as I can tell, the written portion really is just a test of memorization of the list of important topics, and not *really* a test of your knowledge of how the law applies to the facts (because at least half of the writing barbri seems to want is all about how the law doesn't apply to these facts).
Ugggh... I'm just so angry.
June 24, 2006
Why, hello there
My internal buddhist monk has been fairly silent these days. Occasionally, he grins at me from his lotus position while I'm baking as my study break (this week's madeira cake with reisling soaked blueberries, nectarines and plums was a big hit.) But, for the most part, he avoids the barbri buildings.
Imagine my surprise when he briefly showed up during the practice MBE and felt the need to speak.
[BT turns page]
Law-talkin' BT: Oh, thank goodness. Question 185. Only 15 more and this will be all over. I can go home.
[BT excited at the prospect of being done]
Monk BT: You know. This *is* your life. You chose it. You're not getting another one. Do you really want to wish your time away like that? *Live* this experience.
Law-talkin' BT: [grudgingly, but knowing the monk is right] O.K. I'll try.
I told E about it last night. I was impressed by the power of my philosophical self to break through the bar ridiculousness and remind me about the important realities of life. It was damn hard to fully immerse myself in the moment while doing multiple choice questions, but I did try.
Thank goodness the monk sat quietly meditating in the corner and left me to my insanity 'til I only had 15 questions left. I don't know if I could have kept up the fullly aware approach to the bar for much longer. It was exhausting -- the nature of the exam, what it represents, the stress of the other people in the room, my stress, the heavy breathing of the guy with the cold, the characters in the questions, their actions....phew. I wish I could say I did better on those last 15 questions than the rest. But no. I did slightly worse than my average overall. Approximately what you'd expect at the end of a long day of testing.
E and I both agreed that it would probably be best if my inner Buddhist monk could keep his philosophical points to a minimum during the actual Bar Exam. He's useful when I need to calm down or change perspective, but he demands attention in a way that can be quite distracting.
This *is* my life, monk. You are right. Feel free to visit during studying, lectures, and even practice exams. But, if you don't mind, I'd like to do the actual bar exam in a way that this madness is only one 2.2 month period of my life. That may require me to avoid the full awareness. I'm just not there yet. Cut me some slack.
My internal buddhist monk has been fairly silent these days. Occasionally, he grins at me from his lotus position while I'm baking as my study break (this week's madeira cake with reisling soaked blueberries, nectarines and plums was a big hit.) But, for the most part, he avoids the barbri buildings.
Imagine my surprise when he briefly showed up during the practice MBE and felt the need to speak.
[BT turns page]
Law-talkin' BT: Oh, thank goodness. Question 185. Only 15 more and this will be all over. I can go home.
[BT excited at the prospect of being done]
Monk BT: You know. This *is* your life. You chose it. You're not getting another one. Do you really want to wish your time away like that? *Live* this experience.
Law-talkin' BT: [grudgingly, but knowing the monk is right] O.K. I'll try.
I told E about it last night. I was impressed by the power of my philosophical self to break through the bar ridiculousness and remind me about the important realities of life. It was damn hard to fully immerse myself in the moment while doing multiple choice questions, but I did try.
Thank goodness the monk sat quietly meditating in the corner and left me to my insanity 'til I only had 15 questions left. I don't know if I could have kept up the fullly aware approach to the bar for much longer. It was exhausting -- the nature of the exam, what it represents, the stress of the other people in the room, my stress, the heavy breathing of the guy with the cold, the characters in the questions, their actions....phew. I wish I could say I did better on those last 15 questions than the rest. But no. I did slightly worse than my average overall. Approximately what you'd expect at the end of a long day of testing.
E and I both agreed that it would probably be best if my inner Buddhist monk could keep his philosophical points to a minimum during the actual Bar Exam. He's useful when I need to calm down or change perspective, but he demands attention in a way that can be quite distracting.
This *is* my life, monk. You are right. Feel free to visit during studying, lectures, and even practice exams. But, if you don't mind, I'd like to do the actual bar exam in a way that this madness is only one 2.2 month period of my life. That may require me to avoid the full awareness. I'm just not there yet. Cut me some slack.
June 23, 2006
Bar: wanna trade advice?
My suspicion that multiple choice was going to be my strong suit is proving to be correct. So far, I've taken the PMBR early bird course and I've done approximately 50 additional PMBR questions from the Red Book per subject (0 for crim and only 25 for torts, but 50 each for the other subjects). Additionally, I've been doing all of the questions assigned by the BarBri paced program more or less when they are due.
Today, I took the simulated MBE that barbri gave and I got a 150/200. I'm going to keep studying and shooting for that elusive 80%, but overall, I think I need to switch gears and focus on the area where I suck.
So here it is. I'm offering my (albeit untested on the real exam) study plan for the MBE in exchange for any helpful tips those of you who seem to have any clue about this essay business can offer for someone who is all OVER the place and failing like mad. I seem to have trouble knowing what to focus on in the fact patterns, what assumptions to make and what issues to discuss for long bits of time vs. short ones. The best advice I've heard so far is review as many sample answers as you can get your hands on. But, I'm hoping someone out there has something a little more concrete in the way of a study plan to attack my particular problem. See, I'm a weirdo. I arrive at my conclusions via the odd road, generally. Knowing the right answer isn't getting me squat on the essays. I need to learn how to be "normal" and fast.
So, for those of you that are curious, here's how I've been studying for the MBE (YMMV, of course):
1. Do all of the reading and questions that barbri has assigned on the paced program.
2. For every set of multiple choice questions I've done (PMBR or BarBri), sit down and hand write, underline, and make sure I understand the rule behind every question I got wrong. Put those notes in the binder for 3(c) below.
3. When a subject is assigned for review, do one of the following:
You will note, I do not review the questions I got right. In a perfect world, sure, I'd do that too because no doubt I'm getting lucky with some of my guesses and might get it wrong next time. But, I figure with limited time it makes more sense to focus on the stuff I know I need to learn, as opposed to the stuff I *might* need to learn.
Last, but not least, if you think what I've listed above is a ridiculous amount of work, I present, in my defense, the guy who finished 3381 MBE prep questions by June 18.
The mind boggles at how much power this exam has over us, the formerly sane.
My suspicion that multiple choice was going to be my strong suit is proving to be correct. So far, I've taken the PMBR early bird course and I've done approximately 50 additional PMBR questions from the Red Book per subject (0 for crim and only 25 for torts, but 50 each for the other subjects). Additionally, I've been doing all of the questions assigned by the BarBri paced program more or less when they are due.
Today, I took the simulated MBE that barbri gave and I got a 150/200. I'm going to keep studying and shooting for that elusive 80%, but overall, I think I need to switch gears and focus on the area where I suck.
So here it is. I'm offering my (albeit untested on the real exam) study plan for the MBE in exchange for any helpful tips those of you who seem to have any clue about this essay business can offer for someone who is all OVER the place and failing like mad. I seem to have trouble knowing what to focus on in the fact patterns, what assumptions to make and what issues to discuss for long bits of time vs. short ones. The best advice I've heard so far is review as many sample answers as you can get your hands on. But, I'm hoping someone out there has something a little more concrete in the way of a study plan to attack my particular problem. See, I'm a weirdo. I arrive at my conclusions via the odd road, generally. Knowing the right answer isn't getting me squat on the essays. I need to learn how to be "normal" and fast.
So, for those of you that are curious, here's how I've been studying for the MBE (YMMV, of course):
1. Do all of the reading and questions that barbri has assigned on the paced program.
2. For every set of multiple choice questions I've done (PMBR or BarBri), sit down and hand write, underline, and make sure I understand the rule behind every question I got wrong. Put those notes in the binder for 3(c) below.
3. When a subject is assigned for review, do one of the following:
- 25-50 multiple choice questions from the PMBR red book
- all of the flashcards from the PMBR stuff (I'm a big fan of walking around the neighborhood while going over these. My neighbors must think I'm insane.)
- go over the charts/notes in my binder (charts/notes I've collected from BarBri, PMBR, etc. that make sense to my head)
You will note, I do not review the questions I got right. In a perfect world, sure, I'd do that too because no doubt I'm getting lucky with some of my guesses and might get it wrong next time. But, I figure with limited time it makes more sense to focus on the stuff I know I need to learn, as opposed to the stuff I *might* need to learn.
Last, but not least, if you think what I've listed above is a ridiculous amount of work, I present, in my defense, the guy who finished 3381 MBE prep questions by June 18.
The mind boggles at how much power this exam has over us, the formerly sane.
June 21, 2006
bar: demoralization
Nothing will help your mood about your prospects for passing the bar quite like getting a failed essay back. Unless it's two.
Oh, wait, and unless the reason you failed was for missing issues. And there were comments scrawled across the page like, "What about Equal Protection?" And "Use Case Blah in your policy analysis."
And, of course, the kicker is that I DID the equal protection analysis. On the next page after the scrawling red comment, the second and third words were "Equal" and "Protection." I had also used Case Blah in my policy analysis. It just wasn't on the page where the grader decided to look for it.
The combination of the 2 minutes per essay grading and my "I never think of things like other people" approach is not looking good, my friends.
I'm not sure studying more will help, either. The more I know about a subject, the more likely I am to stray from the standard approach.
In other good news, my grades for last semester are all in. It's official -- I'm a MUCH better student when I don't study too hard or try to learn the material. If only I had known it earlier in law school. This time around, my grades are perfectly indirectly related to my knowledge of the actual subject matter.
Thankfully, I am actually amused (and not angry) that one of my worst grades in law school is in Intellectual Property. And, of course, one of the best is in Corporations, where I didn't buy the book, missed the most classes of any class I took in law school, and had no pre-existing knowledge to fall back on.
I'm thinking the take home message should be that I should stop studying for the bar right now.
Nothing will help your mood about your prospects for passing the bar quite like getting a failed essay back. Unless it's two.
Oh, wait, and unless the reason you failed was for missing issues. And there were comments scrawled across the page like, "What about Equal Protection?" And "Use Case Blah in your policy analysis."
And, of course, the kicker is that I DID the equal protection analysis. On the next page after the scrawling red comment, the second and third words were "Equal" and "Protection." I had also used Case Blah in my policy analysis. It just wasn't on the page where the grader decided to look for it.
The combination of the 2 minutes per essay grading and my "I never think of things like other people" approach is not looking good, my friends.
I'm not sure studying more will help, either. The more I know about a subject, the more likely I am to stray from the standard approach.
In other good news, my grades for last semester are all in. It's official -- I'm a MUCH better student when I don't study too hard or try to learn the material. If only I had known it earlier in law school. This time around, my grades are perfectly indirectly related to my knowledge of the actual subject matter.
Thankfully, I am actually amused (and not angry) that one of my worst grades in law school is in Intellectual Property. And, of course, one of the best is in Corporations, where I didn't buy the book, missed the most classes of any class I took in law school, and had no pre-existing knowledge to fall back on.
I'm thinking the take home message should be that I should stop studying for the bar right now.
June 19, 2006
Fast Food Evolution
I'm not really a fan of fast food. Truth be told, I'm somewhat of a food snob. I like fresh, locally grown produce, slow food, home-cooked meals, and, when circumstances call for it, I sincerely enjoy haute cuisine.
But, I do have a guilty pleasure of Taco Bell. About 12 times a year, usually on road trips, I indulge in the bell. It's good in a deliciously terrible way. E and I had the bell on Saturday. Mmmm.... Nachos bell grande with a side of jalapeños.
I imagine the sinful pleasure I experience from the occasional bell indulgence must be one of the reasons that some people make fast food a regular part of their diet. But I can't relate. Even after my very much enjoyed sin in the not-anything-like-south-of-the-border, I'm cured for a good while afterwards.
Usually, I'm glad that I don't like fast food. It's long on calories and short on nutrients. The whole process of enjoying a meal is condensed into an almost clinical experience when you indulge in fast food at the restaurant. And if you're going to take it home... why not go for something else?
Why not indeed? This weekend, when my dad needs food and I need to study, I've had more fast food in the last few days than I have in weeks.
Guess what? Things have changed. Perhaps I'm a few years behind the times, but I'm happy to report that there are decent salad offerings at fast food joints these days.
Today, Dad sent me to Wendy's to pick up lunches of their Southwest Taco Salad. The produce was fresh. The "tortilla strips" (looked like little bits of doritos that weren't quite good enough to make it out of the factory in a doritos bag) and the sour-cream-alternative were not for me, but the salad itself wasn't half bad, and the dressing was actually fairly tasty. Apparently, they intend for you to put the chili *on* the salad. But, I ate it on the side. It was ... not so great, but it's not obviously poisonous either, which is impressive for a meat-based option from a fast-food joint, in my opinion.
Inspired, and unable to find Subway (my default pseudo-fast-food option), I pulled into Carl's Junior for dinner. Turns out, the Carl's Junior charbroiled chicken salad to go is also not bad. The chicken breast was somewhat decent and the produce was also fresh. The dressing could use some work, but then again, I'm generally of the opinion that almost all pre-prepared dressings suck, so their balsamic vinegar based offering wasn't any worse than what I'd expect out of a bottle off the grocery shelf.
All in all, I was impressed.
I was amused too. Because just this Saturday, while indulging at the bell, I was appalled to see their latest advertising campaign for the fourth meal. (Anyone have time to figure out why they need to know your age for entrance to the site?)
Now, I see that the one fast food option I crave is clearly the worst of the worst. Which is heartening, in an odd way. Clearly I need to branch out and gain a better appreciation for mainstream America. I'm too judgmental. The fast food nation has evolved and I should appreciate how. Stay tuned over the next few weeks as I sample the salad offerings from McDonald's, Burger King, and/or any other joints I can find in my quest for quick healthy food.
Okay, truth be told, once I'm home I'll probably go back to the pre-stocked healthy food in the fridge with subway as the default, but still... I like to pretend I've got spare time to run silly experiments. Ooh, how sad is your life when you are disappointed that you won't be able to run the fast food salad experiment...
Man. I need help. Badly.
I'm not really a fan of fast food. Truth be told, I'm somewhat of a food snob. I like fresh, locally grown produce, slow food, home-cooked meals, and, when circumstances call for it, I sincerely enjoy haute cuisine.
But, I do have a guilty pleasure of Taco Bell. About 12 times a year, usually on road trips, I indulge in the bell. It's good in a deliciously terrible way. E and I had the bell on Saturday. Mmmm.... Nachos bell grande with a side of jalapeños.
I imagine the sinful pleasure I experience from the occasional bell indulgence must be one of the reasons that some people make fast food a regular part of their diet. But I can't relate. Even after my very much enjoyed sin in the not-anything-like-south-of-the-border, I'm cured for a good while afterwards.
Usually, I'm glad that I don't like fast food. It's long on calories and short on nutrients. The whole process of enjoying a meal is condensed into an almost clinical experience when you indulge in fast food at the restaurant. And if you're going to take it home... why not go for something else?
Why not indeed? This weekend, when my dad needs food and I need to study, I've had more fast food in the last few days than I have in weeks.
Guess what? Things have changed. Perhaps I'm a few years behind the times, but I'm happy to report that there are decent salad offerings at fast food joints these days.
Today, Dad sent me to Wendy's to pick up lunches of their Southwest Taco Salad. The produce was fresh. The "tortilla strips" (looked like little bits of doritos that weren't quite good enough to make it out of the factory in a doritos bag) and the sour-cream-alternative were not for me, but the salad itself wasn't half bad, and the dressing was actually fairly tasty. Apparently, they intend for you to put the chili *on* the salad. But, I ate it on the side. It was ... not so great, but it's not obviously poisonous either, which is impressive for a meat-based option from a fast-food joint, in my opinion.
Inspired, and unable to find Subway (my default pseudo-fast-food option), I pulled into Carl's Junior for dinner. Turns out, the Carl's Junior charbroiled chicken salad to go is also not bad. The chicken breast was somewhat decent and the produce was also fresh. The dressing could use some work, but then again, I'm generally of the opinion that almost all pre-prepared dressings suck, so their balsamic vinegar based offering wasn't any worse than what I'd expect out of a bottle off the grocery shelf.
All in all, I was impressed.
I was amused too. Because just this Saturday, while indulging at the bell, I was appalled to see their latest advertising campaign for the fourth meal. (Anyone have time to figure out why they need to know your age for entrance to the site?)
Now, I see that the one fast food option I crave is clearly the worst of the worst. Which is heartening, in an odd way. Clearly I need to branch out and gain a better appreciation for mainstream America. I'm too judgmental. The fast food nation has evolved and I should appreciate how. Stay tuned over the next few weeks as I sample the salad offerings from McDonald's, Burger King, and/or any other joints I can find in my quest for quick healthy food.
Okay, truth be told, once I'm home I'll probably go back to the pre-stocked healthy food in the fridge with subway as the default, but still... I like to pretend I've got spare time to run silly experiments. Ooh, how sad is your life when you are disappointed that you won't be able to run the fast food salad experiment...
Man. I need help. Badly.
Bar: A consistent problem
I continously fail to accord the appropriate weight to the issues (says BarBri).
I discuss things that deserve 1 paragraph in pages.
I discuss things that deserve pages in 1 paragraph.
I discuss things that Barbri doesn't mention for multiple paragraphs.
I've checked the outlines. I'm not getting the law wrong. It's not that I'm mis-reading the call of the question. These issues are there in the fact patterns. But for some reason, I'm supposed to know to skip 'em. Or to relegate them to the basement. Or to pay 'em lots of attention.
I'm not too happy 'bout this. Right now, I'm a big party of fail-o-rama on the essays.
I'm reminded of how, back-in-the-day there were those pictures where you would stare and people swore there were outlines of images within the chaos. "Can you see the sailboat?" my friends would ask. "No. Can you see the dinosaur?" I'd respond.
I never thought this particular oddity in my personality would bite me in the ass so badly.
How, exactly, does one learn to think like a bar clone?
I continously fail to accord the appropriate weight to the issues (says BarBri).
I discuss things that deserve 1 paragraph in pages.
I discuss things that deserve pages in 1 paragraph.
I discuss things that Barbri doesn't mention for multiple paragraphs.
I've checked the outlines. I'm not getting the law wrong. It's not that I'm mis-reading the call of the question. These issues are there in the fact patterns. But for some reason, I'm supposed to know to skip 'em. Or to relegate them to the basement. Or to pay 'em lots of attention.
I'm not too happy 'bout this. Right now, I'm a big party of fail-o-rama on the essays.
I'm reminded of how, back-in-the-day there were those pictures where you would stare and people swore there were outlines of images within the chaos. "Can you see the sailboat?" my friends would ask. "No. Can you see the dinosaur?" I'd respond.
I never thought this particular oddity in my personality would bite me in the ass so badly.
How, exactly, does one learn to think like a bar clone?
June 17, 2006
Bar: the good, the bad, and the ugly #1
The good
After 3 or 4 days of reviewing topics I supposedly learned in anywhere from 1 to 3 semesters of study in law school, I can successfully answer enough % correct on simulated MBE questions to pass the exam.
The bad
When this counts, I will not have 3 or 4 days of reviewing each topic before I am handed a nice collection of questions that 1) are conveniently labeled by topic (so I can limit my selection choices to topic-appropriate answers); and 2) are grouped by topic (so I can avoid context switching and getting confused by all the details from other subjects).
The ugly
I don't even want to talk about the essays. Good thing they are only 2/3 of the points. Oh, and professor property, I still hate you the most of all of my bar topic profs. Congrats.
The good
After 3 or 4 days of reviewing topics I supposedly learned in anywhere from 1 to 3 semesters of study in law school, I can successfully answer enough % correct on simulated MBE questions to pass the exam.
The bad
When this counts, I will not have 3 or 4 days of reviewing each topic before I am handed a nice collection of questions that 1) are conveniently labeled by topic (so I can limit my selection choices to topic-appropriate answers); and 2) are grouped by topic (so I can avoid context switching and getting confused by all the details from other subjects).
The ugly
I don't even want to talk about the essays. Good thing they are only 2/3 of the points. Oh, and professor property, I still hate you the most of all of my bar topic profs. Congrats.
June 16, 2006
Let me give thanks
For my health, which took a brief dive into a cold/sinus/chest annoyance that made me miss my brother's birthday, but has returned in time for me to go hang out with the family for father's day. Sure, a cold isn't a big deal, but boy, do I take breathing for granted.
For E, who is dealing with my unavailability, unpredictable moodiness and incessant baking (read: turning the kitchen into a disaster area) with admirable patience.
For my friends, who selflessly travel to my house to come share their happiness and normalcy and laughter with me over wine and barbeque on my one scheduled night off per week.
And finally, for my dad's stubborness and resiliance in the face of his cancer. The blood markers for his tumor are almost back to those of a normal person after 6 cycles of chemotherapy.
I'm gonna work my ass off tonight and tomorrow so I can focus on what really matters this weekend: Father's day.
For my health, which took a brief dive into a cold/sinus/chest annoyance that made me miss my brother's birthday, but has returned in time for me to go hang out with the family for father's day. Sure, a cold isn't a big deal, but boy, do I take breathing for granted.
For E, who is dealing with my unavailability, unpredictable moodiness and incessant baking (read: turning the kitchen into a disaster area) with admirable patience.
For my friends, who selflessly travel to my house to come share their happiness and normalcy and laughter with me over wine and barbeque on my one scheduled night off per week.
And finally, for my dad's stubborness and resiliance in the face of his cancer. The blood markers for his tumor are almost back to those of a normal person after 6 cycles of chemotherapy.
I'm gonna work my ass off tonight and tomorrow so I can focus on what really matters this weekend: Father's day.
June 15, 2006
Bar: Odd comparison, no?
My head keeps flashing back to gymnastics camp these days.
Back when I was a young teenager, my gymnastics team and I would head up to the mountains where the air was thin and the sun was strong. We'd work out on apparati set up outdoors. Every day. For at least one week. And for those of us who were working for the camp ('cause none of us could afford to pay for more than one week) for close to a month.
There were always other gymnastics teams there. They had their own way of training. Some of them were better than us at things we didn't think we could improve. You knew you'd see them on the competition floor in the fall and it was always weird to see them months ahead of time, struggling to get into competition form, just like you.
In the past I used to look back on those days in the mountains with fondness. I'd remember the views, the funny things that happened, the laughter, and how much fun it was to return to sea level and have superhuman lung capacity for a few days.
But these days, what I keep flashing back to is the soreness. I remember being so exhausted at the end of the day that I could barely walk up the stairs to my dorm room after dinner before falling asleep only to wake up the next day and do it again. I remember the ripped hands that ripped open and bled each day getting worse. I remember the injuries I witnessed. I remember that camp required at least 6-8 hours of hard-core workout per day, whereas summer workouts at home were only 4-6 hours per day.
I'm sure there is some interesting subconscius comparison my brain is making between gymnastics camp and the bar. But I'm not bothering to figure it out. I like the little flashes of memory reminding me who I used to be. I like that I had other memories of camp that I'd forgotten. I'm kind of amazed at that little girl and I like to be reminded of her.
My head keeps flashing back to gymnastics camp these days.
Back when I was a young teenager, my gymnastics team and I would head up to the mountains where the air was thin and the sun was strong. We'd work out on apparati set up outdoors. Every day. For at least one week. And for those of us who were working for the camp ('cause none of us could afford to pay for more than one week) for close to a month.
There were always other gymnastics teams there. They had their own way of training. Some of them were better than us at things we didn't think we could improve. You knew you'd see them on the competition floor in the fall and it was always weird to see them months ahead of time, struggling to get into competition form, just like you.
In the past I used to look back on those days in the mountains with fondness. I'd remember the views, the funny things that happened, the laughter, and how much fun it was to return to sea level and have superhuman lung capacity for a few days.
But these days, what I keep flashing back to is the soreness. I remember being so exhausted at the end of the day that I could barely walk up the stairs to my dorm room after dinner before falling asleep only to wake up the next day and do it again. I remember the ripped hands that ripped open and bled each day getting worse. I remember the injuries I witnessed. I remember that camp required at least 6-8 hours of hard-core workout per day, whereas summer workouts at home were only 4-6 hours per day.
I'm sure there is some interesting subconscius comparison my brain is making between gymnastics camp and the bar. But I'm not bothering to figure it out. I like the little flashes of memory reminding me who I used to be. I like that I had other memories of camp that I'd forgotten. I'm kind of amazed at that little girl and I like to be reminded of her.
June 14, 2006
June 12, 2006
An auspicious start
For some reason, my radio alarm clock switched from mariachi music to country.
I was woken this morning by a twangy male crooning, "Size Matters."
WTF?
It's going to be a long week.
**Update: I decided I must have misheard, so I did a little research. Oh no, it's a real country song.
For some reason, my radio alarm clock switched from mariachi music to country.
I was woken this morning by a twangy male crooning, "Size Matters."
WTF?
It's going to be a long week.
**Update: I decided I must have misheard, so I did a little research. Oh no, it's a real country song.
June 11, 2006
I'm gonna miss you
Oh, Erwin. It was so nice to get back together with you and spend some quality time together for the last two days. I was so impressed by how you just stood there, away from the podium, reciting your poetry from memory.
Everything I see today reminds me of you. [In fact, according to the schedule I can plan on revisiting my loving memory of your clear words and calm approach every day until next Thursday.]
You have no idea how much of a pleasure it was to enjoy you yet again. After the beating I had taken from property, I thought I'd never recover. I was certain I was set up for a long downard spiral.
You lifted me up. You gave me hope.
We've been through quite a bit together and it's been wonderful. You will always have a special place in my heart.
Oh, Erwin. It was so nice to get back together with you and spend some quality time together for the last two days. I was so impressed by how you just stood there, away from the podium, reciting your poetry from memory.
Everything I see today reminds me of you. [In fact, according to the schedule I can plan on revisiting my loving memory of your clear words and calm approach every day until next Thursday.]
You have no idea how much of a pleasure it was to enjoy you yet again. After the beating I had taken from property, I thought I'd never recover. I was certain I was set up for a long downard spiral.
You lifted me up. You gave me hope.
We've been through quite a bit together and it's been wonderful. You will always have a special place in my heart.
June 10, 2006
Eating the Bar: Summer of dessert
Turns out, baking is the perfect study break.
Study, study, study, take a break to mix. Put it in the oven. Study, study, study, take it out to cool. Study, study, study. Eat.
This week's offerings included a dense chocolate loaf and a damp lemon almond cake. Next week, I've got a chocolate cheese cake scheduled. In order to survive this madness, I think I'll just spend my summer oscillating between my alter egos of bar-maniac and wanna-be Domestic Goddess.
At least my memories of the bar will taste and smell good.
Turns out, baking is the perfect study break.
Study, study, study, take a break to mix. Put it in the oven. Study, study, study, take it out to cool. Study, study, study. Eat.
This week's offerings included a dense chocolate loaf and a damp lemon almond cake. Next week, I've got a chocolate cheese cake scheduled. In order to survive this madness, I think I'll just spend my summer oscillating between my alter egos of bar-maniac and wanna-be Domestic Goddess.
At least my memories of the bar will taste and smell good.
June 9, 2006
Collusion?
During finals, my bank's ATM ate my card.
Now that it's the bar, the stakes are higher. Now, my bank has lost a large check that I deposited in one of their on-site ATMs.
I received a very impersonal letter stating, "Your assistance in replacing the check is requested." In other words, you need to go convince the person who wrote you the check that we lost to write you another one before 6/19.
Awesome. I totally have time to deal with this right now.
I called the number, then sat on hold for 35 minutes only, found out that the number in the letter is wrong, was connected to another number, sat on hold again for 20 more minutes, only to be told that it was still the wrong department, and finally I was transferred to the correct place.
There, I was told that the person I needed to speak with had left for the day and that I should call back tomorrow. When I said I didn't have time to call back and that I didn't cause this problem, so perhaps I shouldn't be the one to call back, I was informed that, "normal business hours are 8 to 4" and that they don't actually know whether I made any deposit at all, so they can't take me at my word as to whether I caused the problem or not.
It's unfortunate, because I've been very happy with my bank for the last 8 years, but in the last year they've done two things that have made it clear that they are not very careful with their maintenance of ATM machines. That's a risk I don't have time to deal with. You can guarantee that if this isn't handled well tomorrow I'll be leaving my bank just as soon as the bar exam is over.
During finals, my bank's ATM ate my card.
Now that it's the bar, the stakes are higher. Now, my bank has lost a large check that I deposited in one of their on-site ATMs.
I received a very impersonal letter stating, "Your assistance in replacing the check is requested." In other words, you need to go convince the person who wrote you the check that we lost to write you another one before 6/19.
Awesome. I totally have time to deal with this right now.
I called the number, then sat on hold for 35 minutes only, found out that the number in the letter is wrong, was connected to another number, sat on hold again for 20 more minutes, only to be told that it was still the wrong department, and finally I was transferred to the correct place.
There, I was told that the person I needed to speak with had left for the day and that I should call back tomorrow. When I said I didn't have time to call back and that I didn't cause this problem, so perhaps I shouldn't be the one to call back, I was informed that, "normal business hours are 8 to 4" and that they don't actually know whether I made any deposit at all, so they can't take me at my word as to whether I caused the problem or not.
It's unfortunate, because I've been very happy with my bank for the last 8 years, but in the last year they've done two things that have made it clear that they are not very careful with their maintenance of ATM machines. That's a risk I don't have time to deal with. You can guarantee that if this isn't handled well tomorrow I'll be leaving my bank just as soon as the bar exam is over.
June 7, 2006
Bar: maintenance of denial
The rational approach would be to admit that the bar is merely an exclusionary tactic employed by a monopoly that I want to join. They keep their numbers down by ensuring that the amount of material tested is unknowable in 2 months.
If I could fully accept the former as true, then I could just study what I can, relax, and hope that luck is on my side. If she wasn't, I wouldn't take it personally and I'd sit for the exam again.
But, the entire profession of law *has* to believe that the difference between a pass and a fail on the bar actually means something useful. They *have* to believe that it is an effective filter to keep out those who shouldn't be practicing. Because, if they didn't believe that, well, then the bar exam would probably be an illegal restraint against competition or something along those lines, now wouldn't it?
We're not about to challenge their perspective. Us newly minted JDs were raised and worked our way through a system that taught us that if we just work hard enough, and if we do enough stuff, we will succeed. So, we trick ourselves into believing that if we slog through enough of this crap, if we are just determined and disciplined enough, it will work out fine for us this time too.
But deep down, we are beginning to realize that this test is a crap shoot.
Methinks that's the real reason why we're all so stressed. None of us are ready to switch our religious allegiance from fairness to luck. We want to keep chance firmly in the closet of denial. Each day, we must work harder and longer to push against that door, telling ourselves that if we are disciplined enough, the dreaded fate of not passing won't happen to us. We can keep it at bay, we tell ourselves.
Unfortunately, every additional hour spent studying shows us just how impossible it would be to truly learn all of this material in such a short time. Our resolve weakens and the denial-door cracks. Rays of the bitch-goddess luck stream through the room begging for worship.
Most of us, we don't want to start paying homage to luck. She is out of our control. She doesn't get along with our chosen deity of fairness. She would mean that we deserve less credit than we like to give ourselves. And she doesn't always believe in meritocracy. Even those of us that didn't do as well as we'd have liked in law school, those of us who admitted that there were elements of subjectivity to the grading process that meant the grades were not effective ranking tools, we want to believe that if we could do it again, we've learned some insight tht would make us better students -- we'd be better this time around. You would never hear a recent J.D. say about law school, "Oh, yeah, that 4.0 -- she was just lucky." Some of us might think that the difference between 4.0 and a 3.6 is luck. But, regardless, they are both indicative of a respectable performance, and it would be gauche to point out that neither one is any more impressive. So we keep our mouths shut.
But even those of us who accept that there is no *real* difference between an A- and B+, we refuse to consider that there may be no *real* difference between Esq. and J.D. Sure it may not be fair that any one of the top 15% of the class could have been the summa cum laude speaker, but who cares, really? Luck didn't *really* deprive any of those people something important, did she? It's not like luck kept a large portion of law students from graduating.
There's no way that the difference between passing and failing the bar is governed by luck. It just wouldn't be fair.
So we work like dogs. Even though it's completely irrational.
The rational approach would be to admit that the bar is merely an exclusionary tactic employed by a monopoly that I want to join. They keep their numbers down by ensuring that the amount of material tested is unknowable in 2 months.
If I could fully accept the former as true, then I could just study what I can, relax, and hope that luck is on my side. If she wasn't, I wouldn't take it personally and I'd sit for the exam again.
But, the entire profession of law *has* to believe that the difference between a pass and a fail on the bar actually means something useful. They *have* to believe that it is an effective filter to keep out those who shouldn't be practicing. Because, if they didn't believe that, well, then the bar exam would probably be an illegal restraint against competition or something along those lines, now wouldn't it?
We're not about to challenge their perspective. Us newly minted JDs were raised and worked our way through a system that taught us that if we just work hard enough, and if we do enough stuff, we will succeed. So, we trick ourselves into believing that if we slog through enough of this crap, if we are just determined and disciplined enough, it will work out fine for us this time too.
But deep down, we are beginning to realize that this test is a crap shoot.
Methinks that's the real reason why we're all so stressed. None of us are ready to switch our religious allegiance from fairness to luck. We want to keep chance firmly in the closet of denial. Each day, we must work harder and longer to push against that door, telling ourselves that if we are disciplined enough, the dreaded fate of not passing won't happen to us. We can keep it at bay, we tell ourselves.
Unfortunately, every additional hour spent studying shows us just how impossible it would be to truly learn all of this material in such a short time. Our resolve weakens and the denial-door cracks. Rays of the bitch-goddess luck stream through the room begging for worship.
Most of us, we don't want to start paying homage to luck. She is out of our control. She doesn't get along with our chosen deity of fairness. She would mean that we deserve less credit than we like to give ourselves. And she doesn't always believe in meritocracy. Even those of us that didn't do as well as we'd have liked in law school, those of us who admitted that there were elements of subjectivity to the grading process that meant the grades were not effective ranking tools, we want to believe that if we could do it again, we've learned some insight tht would make us better students -- we'd be better this time around. You would never hear a recent J.D. say about law school, "Oh, yeah, that 4.0 -- she was just lucky." Some of us might think that the difference between 4.0 and a 3.6 is luck. But, regardless, they are both indicative of a respectable performance, and it would be gauche to point out that neither one is any more impressive. So we keep our mouths shut.
But even those of us who accept that there is no *real* difference between an A- and B+, we refuse to consider that there may be no *real* difference between Esq. and J.D. Sure it may not be fair that any one of the top 15% of the class could have been the summa cum laude speaker, but who cares, really? Luck didn't *really* deprive any of those people something important, did she? It's not like luck kept a large portion of law students from graduating.
There's no way that the difference between passing and failing the bar is governed by luck. It just wouldn't be fair.
So we work like dogs. Even though it's completely irrational.
June 5, 2006
Bar: Oh, just shut up.
I had my first bar-induced freak out yesterday. Minor, but I definitely didn't handle the juggling of the 10th detail I was supposed to handling in my normal manner (which would be to simple forget whatever it was I was holding and set it down so I could go on an hour-long hunt for it later). Instead, I handed the telephone back to E and informed him that he could tell the person that I just couldn't handle what they were asking me to do just then. I didn't trust myself to do it nicely, as I'd already tried to subtly get the point across, but it didn't register. I was concerned that attempt #2 would result in me being a jerk (or rather, more of a jerk than I had already been), so I handed the phone to E.
In other news, BarBri apparently thinks it's reasonable to construct a 6 page outline and 8 page response (both single-spaced) to an evidence question that is supposed to take 1 hour.
Shut up barbri. No one can do that. No one.
All right. With that out of the way, I'm going to take my grumpy self back to evidence and hope that the next essay question is a little more reasonable.
I had my first bar-induced freak out yesterday. Minor, but I definitely didn't handle the juggling of the 10th detail I was supposed to handling in my normal manner (which would be to simple forget whatever it was I was holding and set it down so I could go on an hour-long hunt for it later). Instead, I handed the telephone back to E and informed him that he could tell the person that I just couldn't handle what they were asking me to do just then. I didn't trust myself to do it nicely, as I'd already tried to subtly get the point across, but it didn't register. I was concerned that attempt #2 would result in me being a jerk (or rather, more of a jerk than I had already been), so I handed the phone to E.
In other news, BarBri apparently thinks it's reasonable to construct a 6 page outline and 8 page response (both single-spaced) to an evidence question that is supposed to take 1 hour.
Shut up barbri. No one can do that. No one.
All right. With that out of the way, I'm going to take my grumpy self back to evidence and hope that the next essay question is a little more reasonable.
June 3, 2006
Science experiment (aka freedom)
E & I recently acquired a body fat analyzer scale. Yeah, that's what happens when you give people a gift card for their wedding present. They just may buy a body fat scale and some replacement sonicare heads with it. Sorry if you had something else in mind, but we took the "good on any item" slogan to heart and this is what we chose, so thanks.
Anyways, since the scale arrived, we've been running all sorts of experiments. See, I spent several years trapped in spandex at the gymnastics gym and then later at the pool. I loved my time there, but HATED the role that the scale played in the lives of the majority of the girls'/womens' lives who surrounded me. They were fearful of the scale. It meant something about their self worth. It represented everything about who they could or couldn't be. It was a terrible thing. So, between them and my mother, I've been on strike and never really had a scale to play with on a day to day basis.
But now, I do. And I'm studying for the bar. So, I'm going a little crazy. And here are some of the useful tidbits I have learned from the scale:
1. If you don't like the % bodyfat readout that the personalized scale gives you, and you are female, just tell it you are a male. That'll fix it right up. Other options include rounding up your height and decreasing your age. (I'm still puzzling out the algorithm that takes the bioimpedance and combines it with the personalized data you give it to come up with a number.)
2. A 4 mile run in 85 degree heat results in about 2% of my body weight in water loss. The scale has at least some commitment to reality of body fat, because it did at least show that my body fat % went up despite the lost weight.
3. A 6 mile run in 70 degree heat results in the same thing as 4 miles at 85 degrees. Take home: for overall health, it's worth waiting 'til later in the day to take that run.
4. A night of sleep after a barbeque and 4 glasses of wine/champagne results in 3.5% of my body weight in water loss. Ergo, if you want to lose weight, clearly, you should drink and sleep more instead of exercise. [grin] I'm kidding, of course. The real take home is that you shouldn't work out in the heat after a night of drinking. How amazing is it that you can lose 3.5% of your body weight while sleeping? Granted, I was the girl whose coach required she bring a towel to gymnastics practice because she was so sweaty, so maybe that's not normal. But still, I'm in awe of the human body.
5. A super burrito for lunch, sitting still for barbri and bar studies all day, and mexican food for dinner (mas chips? si, por favor!) results in 5.1 lbs of weight difference between the AM and the PM. 5.1 lbs in the positive direction. In one day. That's a large weight change for anyone. I'm not a particularly big person. But I do have a big appetite. Even our favorite server knows so, he came to our table tonight and asked me, "Tienehombre hambre?" and then looked at E and laughed, saying, "Ella tiene siempre hombre hambre." E, of course, responded, "Es verdad, mi amigo!" I didn't disappoint. Good thing I can sweat out almost all of those big appetite pounds I put on by putting away a few stiff drinks and going to sleep...
Anyways, the plan for us is to watch both the weight and fat percentage numbers to make sure they don't move too much in the upward direction. It's barbeque season and we have a tendency to swing a little too far in the voluptuous direction by labor day than we'd like. Plus, there are always pictures at labor day. We're always at our laughable fattest come labor day. Other than avoiding bad labor day pictures, we've hit the point in our lives where we should probably watch our weight as an act of health. So, we're doing it.
It's refreshing to finally be free of the scales I knew as an athlete and young female. This instrument doesn't represent the self-hatred and desire to measure up that so many scales in locker rooms have represented to me in the past. This instrument doesn't remind me of the scale my mother kept in her bathroom for her entire life and used as a reminder that all she was going to do was eat carrots for the day. This scale has nothing to do with my enjoyment of food and the other things in life. I don't need to rebel against this scale. It is merely something to help us maintain our life for as long as possible. It's just our cute little appliance that has been tricked into thinking I'm a boy. It's just a silly scale.
E & I recently acquired a body fat analyzer scale. Yeah, that's what happens when you give people a gift card for their wedding present. They just may buy a body fat scale and some replacement sonicare heads with it. Sorry if you had something else in mind, but we took the "good on any item" slogan to heart and this is what we chose, so thanks.
Anyways, since the scale arrived, we've been running all sorts of experiments. See, I spent several years trapped in spandex at the gymnastics gym and then later at the pool. I loved my time there, but HATED the role that the scale played in the lives of the majority of the girls'/womens' lives who surrounded me. They were fearful of the scale. It meant something about their self worth. It represented everything about who they could or couldn't be. It was a terrible thing. So, between them and my mother, I've been on strike and never really had a scale to play with on a day to day basis.
But now, I do. And I'm studying for the bar. So, I'm going a little crazy. And here are some of the useful tidbits I have learned from the scale:
1. If you don't like the % bodyfat readout that the personalized scale gives you, and you are female, just tell it you are a male. That'll fix it right up. Other options include rounding up your height and decreasing your age. (I'm still puzzling out the algorithm that takes the bioimpedance and combines it with the personalized data you give it to come up with a number.)
2. A 4 mile run in 85 degree heat results in about 2% of my body weight in water loss. The scale has at least some commitment to reality of body fat, because it did at least show that my body fat % went up despite the lost weight.
3. A 6 mile run in 70 degree heat results in the same thing as 4 miles at 85 degrees. Take home: for overall health, it's worth waiting 'til later in the day to take that run.
4. A night of sleep after a barbeque and 4 glasses of wine/champagne results in 3.5% of my body weight in water loss. Ergo, if you want to lose weight, clearly, you should drink and sleep more instead of exercise. [grin] I'm kidding, of course. The real take home is that you shouldn't work out in the heat after a night of drinking. How amazing is it that you can lose 3.5% of your body weight while sleeping? Granted, I was the girl whose coach required she bring a towel to gymnastics practice because she was so sweaty, so maybe that's not normal. But still, I'm in awe of the human body.
5. A super burrito for lunch, sitting still for barbri and bar studies all day, and mexican food for dinner (mas chips? si, por favor!) results in 5.1 lbs of weight difference between the AM and the PM. 5.1 lbs in the positive direction. In one day. That's a large weight change for anyone. I'm not a particularly big person. But I do have a big appetite. Even our favorite server knows so, he came to our table tonight and asked me, "Tiene
Anyways, the plan for us is to watch both the weight and fat percentage numbers to make sure they don't move too much in the upward direction. It's barbeque season and we have a tendency to swing a little too far in the voluptuous direction by labor day than we'd like. Plus, there are always pictures at labor day. We're always at our laughable fattest come labor day. Other than avoiding bad labor day pictures, we've hit the point in our lives where we should probably watch our weight as an act of health. So, we're doing it.
It's refreshing to finally be free of the scales I knew as an athlete and young female. This instrument doesn't represent the self-hatred and desire to measure up that so many scales in locker rooms have represented to me in the past. This instrument doesn't remind me of the scale my mother kept in her bathroom for her entire life and used as a reminder that all she was going to do was eat carrots for the day. This scale has nothing to do with my enjoyment of food and the other things in life. I don't need to rebel against this scale. It is merely something to help us maintain our life for as long as possible. It's just our cute little appliance that has been tricked into thinking I'm a boy. It's just a silly scale.
June 2, 2006
Eating the Bar
I think it will be helpful throughout this process to keep in mind the sage words of the stranger from one of the greatest movies ever made:
Sometimes, you eat the bar. And, well, sometimes, he eats you.
In the spirit of the former, I present the salad I served at last night's barbeque. As a bonus, there are several steps which can be spread out while studying and used as "rewards" to get you through some chunks of work:
Spicy Turmerik Barley Salad
1. 1 lb pearled barley. Soak for several hours 'til tender. Drain.
2. Mix dressing ingredients (listed below) and pour over barley. Allow to soak an hour or so.
1/2 C olive oil
1/4 C lemon juice
1/4 C apple vinegar
scant white sugar
1 T black pepper
1-2 T turmeric (I was on the phone and I thought I was using cumin, so the recipe took a completely different turn, but it was a good one.)
dash of oregano
3. Toss barley and dressing into a sautee pan. Bring liquid to a boil and briefly stir barley until liquid is evaporated down. Allow to cool/chill.
4. In a food processor, chop the following on pulse until they are in small colorful chunks. Mix into barley. Chill and serve.
2 cucumbers (their own food processor cycle)
5 medium round tomatoes (I used orange, they were pretty, they got their own cycle and became fairly liquified, but it was fine.)
1/2 red onion (I combined these last 5 ingredients in the last cycle)
2 jalapeños (the other mistake, I was shooting for 1 but was mid-conversation and had a helpful sous-chef who just kept chopping)
3-4 cloves garlic
1/4 bunch parsely w/stalks
2 times around the food processor with EVOO.
I think it will be helpful throughout this process to keep in mind the sage words of the stranger from one of the greatest movies ever made:
Sometimes, you eat the bar. And, well, sometimes, he eats you.
In the spirit of the former, I present the salad I served at last night's barbeque. As a bonus, there are several steps which can be spread out while studying and used as "rewards" to get you through some chunks of work:
Spicy Turmerik Barley Salad
1. 1 lb pearled barley. Soak for several hours 'til tender. Drain.
2. Mix dressing ingredients (listed below) and pour over barley. Allow to soak an hour or so.
1/2 C olive oil
1/4 C lemon juice
1/4 C apple vinegar
scant white sugar
1 T black pepper
1-2 T turmeric (I was on the phone and I thought I was using cumin, so the recipe took a completely different turn, but it was a good one.)
dash of oregano
3. Toss barley and dressing into a sautee pan. Bring liquid to a boil and briefly stir barley until liquid is evaporated down. Allow to cool/chill.
4. In a food processor, chop the following on pulse until they are in small colorful chunks. Mix into barley. Chill and serve.
2 cucumbers (their own food processor cycle)
5 medium round tomatoes (I used orange, they were pretty, they got their own cycle and became fairly liquified, but it was fine.)
1/2 red onion (I combined these last 5 ingredients in the last cycle)
2 jalapeños (the other mistake, I was shooting for 1 but was mid-conversation and had a helpful sous-chef who just kept chopping)
3-4 cloves garlic
1/4 bunch parsely w/stalks
2 times around the food processor with EVOO.
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