Thursday, August 09, 2007


I've moved:

I got a new Mac notebook, which has convinced me to fall in love with it. I switched over to Wordpress for my blog because i can't change text color and add code on blogger anymore, and I'm too lazy and unmotivated to figure out how to make it work with my Mac. The Mac that I love.

All the other posts were imported over at the new site, so everything is there and archived.

Update your bookmarks :)

Let the Lazy Begin

So, i'm back. Back from the bar, back from California, back from the beach...and being back home without the threat of the bar exam dangling over my head like some swaying grand piano is pretty nice. I am taking "lazy bum" to new heights, and I refuse to feel bad about it, as I'll have enough to keep me busy when school starts (again!) in a few weeks :)

In the meantime, I'll also be busy trying not to melt. It's just so ridiculously hot. Murphy likes to bolt out of the door whenever we open it so he can eat all the vegetation within a five foot radius of the house. He generally withstands considerable heat to do so, but today, he bolted out, pranced around on the pavement for about ten seconds, and ran right back into the house. He's currently passed out on the tile in the kitchen, trying to cool down. I doubt it's working very well since the heat is just seeping into everything. The (very) slight tan I happened to accumulate over five days of being in the sun is certain to disappear now that I've become a prisoner to the AC.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Why Continental Stinks

Hello my dears! The Bar exam is finally over, and I'm currently living in that surreal place where there is no studying to do and my dreams aren't haunted by the 14th Amendment. The actual test itself was as horrifying and bizarre as I expected it to be, but there were no mental or emotional breakdowns in my testing area to speak of. At least from me. It was very much like a strange little communist world, where we did everything in unison and obeyed one barking voice over an intercom system. Pencils down. Stand up. Return in an hour and a half. Etc., etc. But it's done...and the overwhelming relief is still catching up to me.

After the bar, we didn't quite make it out to a REAL bar because we had to drive back down to VA early in the morning. On Saturday, we were flying out to sunny Santa Rosa, California, to see Jer's parents and to make good on the promise/threat of helping Clare pack up the house. However, Continental Airlines was hell-bent on making our cross country trip miserable.

We had a 50 minute connection time in Houston, which we managed to miss because of being delayed for 56 minutes for "crew rest" and our stupid, stupid Captain. He apparently not only needed rest, but he needed to hold us up 15 minutes more because he thought it was a brilliant idea to wait in line for donuts. DONUTS.

Because he made up time in the air, but not enough, we managed to miss our connection by ten minutes. Which meant we were stuck in Houston for another 10 hours, because I guess Continental is even more worthless than previously thought and didn't fly much to Northern California.

Then they lost our luggage.

And then we remembered my beloved cameras, left behind on the security conveyor belt back in Dulles. I had a breakdown then, I can tell you that much, until Jer called and discovered they had them and would hold them for us. So, unfortunately, there will be no pictures of wine country. And thankfully, there wasn't a security crisis in the airport from my "unattended luggage."

We managed to get into California about 7 hours later than expected, but I did have something that helped to make it better: In-N-Out. I can't believe how jam packed that place is every time and every where I go into one, but I get it. I really do. For those of you not blessed enough to have had a burger from here, I can't possibly explain to you what it is other than the fact that I immediately start salivating when I think of one.

I'm just now beginning to relax, and wine tasting is tomorrow...which I can only expect will be fantastic!

Thursday, July 12, 2007

I need a real Bar. Not the crappy test kind.

Bar study is in crazy, hyper-active mode. Tomorrow, I have yet another simulated multi-state exam (200 multiple choice monstrosities, 6 hours of titillating fun!), and then it's study until the 23rd when the drive up to Albany commences. I have been M.I.A because I've been held hostage by heavy, demanding books and outlines, and it doesn't look to get any better before I have to actually take the if, after reading this, you don't check back until, say, July 27th, you won't be missing much.

In other happy news, ye olde Georgetown University finally decided to open its arms to me and accepted me into their graduate LLM program. For those of you unaware that someone would possibly want to continue judicial education beyond obtaining a JD degree, the LLM is like the next level up. The Masters of Law, if you will. I've been waiting (patiently, impatiently) for a response, and Jer was the lovely soul that delivered the happy acceptance letter.

So, after the bar, I can look forward to another year of legal study. In a subject matter I'm actually intersted in, this time!

Monday, July 02, 2007

We are not discussing this anymore. It's a moo point.

This weekend was, quite possibly, the most boring weekend of my life. There are weekends where you do know, sit around. Watch tv. Snooze. Whatever. They may be boring, per se, but not altogether unbearable. This weekend was unbearably boring. We had 6 hours of multiple choice hell on Friday for our practice Multi-state, and then 6 hours of question by question analysis on Saturday and Sunday. Unless you're doing it (or have done it), you can't imagine how much I wanted to pluck every hair out of my head just to make sure I was still conscious. My brain was fusing to my skull.

On a happier note, it was gorgeous outside today. There aren't a whole lot of non-humid, sunny days in a D.C. summer, but when you get one, hoo boy. It almost makes all those other hot suffocating blanket days worthwhile. Almost.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

So, now I'm generic.

My old license plate has been retired, and I'm now the owner of a new, generically numbered one (but I'm also animal friendly! - my license plate funds are used to support sterilization programs for dogs and cats). Virginia is apparently the capital of personalized plates, and I feel a bit left out now, but I had good reason. The old one said "HEY SUE" because I'm Sue, and this is how people always get my attention.

"Hey, Sue! How ya doin?"

"Hey, Sue, can you come here for a second?"

"Hey, Sue, can you shut the hell up?"

Etc., etc.

Now that I'm a soon-to-be lawyer, however, running around with a license plate that not only refers to my name but also may be interpreted as a glorified endorsement to sue people left and right was probably not a good idea.

In approximately one month, I'll have completed the bar exam. This both terrifies and thrills me. I'm mostly terrified because I have retained nothing of substance from hours of class, and it thrills me because I won't have to spend time laboring over the levels of comparative negligence in tort cases. Until then, though, I have to go through the motions, which include classes both Saturday and Sunday this week. Gross.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

In which the Yankees get made fun of. Repeatedly.

I enjoy shopping at Target. It is one of my vices (along with reading my weekly smut, a.k.a., US Weekly and circling all the things in Vogue I want but would never wear) because I can roam the store and find nearly a dozen reasons why I need everything in there. I was in there today, and instead of buying the store, I managed to pull one of my patented fake-out moves instead.

In law school, I never spoke up unless I knew exactly what I was talking about and that I was 100% sure I had the right answer. Because of this, I would concentrate my attention fully on some obscure law because I knew I would end up being the only one volunteering during class. This led people to believe I was actually much smarter than I was, and the fake-out move saved me from being called on in the future.

I also use this fake-out move in every day life; today, for instance, in Target. I was wandering down the aisle, when an old man kindly moved out of my way so I could get to the Tylenol. He smiled and said, "I'll let you go, even though I normally wouldn't do it for a Yankees fan." I, of course, was wearing Jeremy's Yankee hat.

For some reason or another, this old man took it upon himself to say "your Yankees aren't doing too well this year, are they?"

Now, I love sports. I also absolutely hate it when people wear hats of teams they know nothing about just because it's "fashionable." However, my knowledge of sports is limited to surface facts (i.e., the Yankees play in New York; the Mets do, too), and I almost panicked that I would appear to this man as one of those nit wit girls that wears Yankee hats because Derek Jeter looks hot in uniform.

I was saved because of my fake-out move and the fact that Jeremy is an atlas for sports information. He knows who hit the third homerun in the second game of the 18th World Series. He knows what size shoe Brett Favre wears and how fast Jerry Rice can run the mile. Seriously. Obscure, crazy stuff. When he talks sports, I tend to zone in on the less intricate details of sports news. Like, that the Yankees pitching is going down the shitter. Which I said to the old man.

The old man seemed impressed with me, and proceeded to talk to me further. The only other tidbit of knowledge I had pertaining to the Yankees had something to do with Roger Clements and the fact that he was getting a boatload of money, so I said "I don't think paying Roger Clements $1million a game will help."

I think the old man was in love with me at this point. Apparently, that was completely relevant to what we were talking about. Then, sadly, his wife pulled him to another aisle. He waved goodbye to me. We were kindred spirits at that point.

I'm not sure the fake-out move will help me on the bar, so off for more studying.

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  • I'm happy as a clam in Northern VA
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