Acid Dropping as the Toddler Returns and Watches the Fastest Tracts.

I left my blog hanging from a cliff (and not one of those half masticated kid's Clif Bars that Chaya strews about like flower petals in a wedding aisle), missing my husband and child and speculating about the particular contours of my life and death with whatever Raynaud's associated nastiness a rheumatologist might discover. Then I was like "wait, break-time it's Mardi Gras and we've got a toddler preschool Valentine's Exchange and parade to do!"

And, as always, I'm still alive! And not currently living with any diagnoses except Raynaud's, odd-body-syndrome, and probably some kind of all purpose psychological label involving the words "neurotic" or "generalized anxiety"

Chaya and Andrew had a great time tromping around in the mountains. As I was not there Chaya was vergingly angelic on the plane ride. She was intimidated by the dog but also delighted. She tromped in snow. She took her naps and slept at night (or so Andrew thinks, but then again I've seen how much he can sleep through, so who knows what wild nonsense she got up to once he was in bed!) And she didn't universally reject me upon her return. In fact, little changed in our relationship, although I think maybe she and Andrew have a little more confidence with each other now. And no doubt Andrew is further convinced that I am either (1) making up some of the wearing joys of primary parenting, or (2) bringing out Chaya's most demanding and boisterous side. Guilty as charged I'm sure on the latter, but that is the world of primary parents. Really.

 And, after various spells of wallowing and Dr. Googling myself, I mellowed into a pretty jammin' routine of eating moderately, walking, wandering, and watching two of the millions of comic book movies I've missed in the intervening years since childbirth. The last film I watched in the theaters was Avengers 2 (which nearly triggered premature labor at the time). Then I visited my own parents, ate moderate and safe foods, and packed up some more of my stuff from the old house that my mom is just about to sell.

I also moved onto my first round of the sugar pill phase of my new birth control. Lo and behold, my body decided to menstruate (TMI, my toosh - you've been through oh so much of the nitty gritty, this barely scratches the surface). I surely thought it'd forgotten how to do that! Even Dr. Cho was selling birth control as a great option in terms of never having to have a period again (given my history). Ah well. This becomes challenging since Chaya has a magnetic attraction to maxi pads (stuffed animal diapers basically) and bandaids. We never have either readily available for use in the home, despite them typically being scattered every which way like tinsel on a tree. But it's still heartening to know my body occasionally does things it's "supposed to."

And so, things continue. Kids came back. We had a reunion with Chaya's besties from way back at a nice Mexican restaurant a week ago. I got a haircut this week. We live exciting and crazy lives!


Chaya's about to up her preschooling to twice a week. She enjoys it so much (and I have so many
darned appointments to keep up with, that it's becoming necessary at this point!) There was some confusion about which day and how to coordinate, but I finally just decided to drop her off today. I think they would take her every day if I weren't too dilatory about compensation.

And...

Last week I had my long awaited appointment with a rheumatologist. We're still waiting on bloodwork, but based on a physical exam and family history, she is skeptical that I have an autoimmune disorder. She investigated my hands for signs of "pitting" and ulcers (common with secondary Raynauds) and did a nailfold capilloscopy, which also suggested my capillaries were normal. She was bemused at a faint orangey hue, but finally speculated that it was likely something to do with eating a ton of carrots and squash (actually this is plausible based on a list of foods people might eat to acquire caratonemia  She thought my face had a redness but nothing malar (lupus butterfly rash).

I went through my long list of symptoms and she bandied them back at me:

1. Raynaud's, vasovagal syncope, flushing face and skin, peripheral neuropathy, benign palpitations... are all under the control of the autonomic nervous system. believes they're related. Didn't call it dysautonomia exactly, but suggested I may learn to control these parts of my body through a practice of biofeedback or meditative practices like Qi Gong. She said it would be interesting to see how longer term use of birth control might affect things. Boy is my life always "interesting," particularly to medical professionals.

2. Dry mouth. She agreed my mouth was dry and that there weren't really any medications to blame. But she also didn't think it showed signs of sjorngren's level of dryness or the associated damage.

3. Dry eyes. This one was an easy bandy since I have a family history of dry eye syndrome and have had LASIK. .

4. LPR (silent heartburn symptoms that include constant hoarseness, throat pain, lump in throat, difficulty eating, etc). She said that was fairly common among the population, and not a huge sign of autoimmune dismotility in and of itself. She recommended enzymes and dietary modifications. She also suggested going back on Claritin as allergies have some overlap.

5. Other stuff: hormones and thyroid and not her wheelhouse, but "interesting".

6. Aches and pains. Not joint or connective tissue related as much as sciatic or the like.

So, pending a blood test, I'm more or less back on my own for a bit. But I ain't done with the specialists here.

I am seriously considering consulting an accupuncturist who also offers private qi gong instruction, since I do know that she takes insurance and it has a decent track record of helping. It's amazing I've lived in Bellingham and Mt Vernon so much and yet never seen one at this point.

I am also still waiting on a neurology appointment in several more months, which may or may not be relevant (Raynaud's IS a neurovascular issue, and autonomic nervous system functions are neurological...)

And then there's the miserable reflux. I think I will try changing birth control next cycle, since this seemed to be contemporaneous, but I'm not sure if it will help. I may also consult an ENT or have other testing to see what the balance is between mechanics, hormones, allergies and whatnot.

LPR, if this is what it is, is a special form of reflux. It's harder to see the direct cause and effect, but I can tell that if I eat quite a few of my favorite things, or if I eat much at a time, OR if I eat anywhere near bedtime, it sucks. I get mucusey. I feel a little food creeping back up or just have a difficult time swallowing. My throat suddenly gets sore if I lean forward or backwards. And eventually it turns into post nasal drip. I have read some fairly credible consensus that this is triggered off by acid reflu aspirating up very fast and bringing pepcin (a digestive enzyme) into the nose/throat/larynx, and mouth. The reflux is probably due to a loose valve somewhere, but once it happens, it's a self-perpetuating cycle. Pepcin stokes the acid and feeds on acidic conditions. It slowly dies in alkaline environments.

That's part of why acid blockers are often useful BUT the really effective ones (PPIs) (1) have a crappy efficacy with LPR, (2) totally screw with the stomach's ability to absorb several vitamins and minerals. Huge risk of deficiencies and osteoperosis, which I'm already at risk for. And there's a dependency and rebound effect that makes it harder and harder to get off of them. It's still an important intervention but not one to be taken lightly.

I've also seen some peer reviewed studies that dietary interventions (Mediterranean diet and alkaline water) were technically more effective than PPI use. So while we wait to see how things pan out, I'm watching my diet again, at least as much as it is limiting me.

 It's really a bummer here. I finally manage to get out from the lode stone of being underweight. Break some of my orthorexic tendencies and get to a place where my body actually seems to do things like "respond to hormones". And now I can't eat much at once or much of anything without some serious punishment.

There are a handful of different "GERD/LPR Diets" out there. (GERD is the medical term gastroesomethingsucks reflux disorder - e.g. "frequent heartburn and other reflux issues"). Every case is idiosyncratic and every sufferer has different triggers. It's harder to figure those out with LPR, so it can be helpful to have a really minimal diet of generally safe foods and then slowly reintroduce other foods to get the trigger.

As I've said, there's credible research that a low acid diet might help to heal the acid damage of LPR, particularly. There are two major takes that approach it from this angle. One is called Dropping Acid, started by an ENT who pioneered a lot of research into Silent Reflux. The competing "low acid" version is called Acid Watchers, also concocted by an ENT several years later with a little updated research.

 They both have a "healing phase" in which the patient eats only foods above a PH of 5 (and avoids other known triggers) and then a phase in which you work things back in. They differ in the nitty gritty.

They're both very healthy diets, except that they may come a bit from the assumption that people with reflux could benefit from losing weight and probably were eating 3 bigger meals a day. Revolutionary to move up to a whole 6 times a day! Given how little I can eat at a time, that is NOT enough. In fact, many people I've spoken with feel that their difficulties eating have caused them to drop weight. And it's challenging to get enough food, given it all takes preparation time and money.

There's a third one that's particularly cultish, called Fast Tract Diet. This was developed by a microbiologist to treat something called SIBO, but he's expanded his opinion to credit heartburn with this as well. It's all a very complex algebraic take on the Low FODMAPS diet (on steroids). His theory is that it's all about how fermentable foods are. Food ferment in the stomach and that feeds SIBO, which in turn causes every kind of woe. Basically it includes a ton of common trigger foods and it low carb. People swear by it, but it scares me. Oatmeal and bananas are bad? Really?? In fact it's kind of nuts in terms of how little fruits/veggies/whole-grains one can have. Seriously, Wonder Bread is more highly recommended than oats. And it's super high fat.

There are also more generalized diets. The common sense stuff is semi-based in science, but not super well reviewed.

I'm loosely following the Acid Watcher Diet, but I think there's a dizzying degree of whooo in it.

Of course there may well be some underlying intolerance or allergy going on. I definitely have allergies generally. And there are connections. But of course I have no idea what they are and how they interact.

Or this. Because every support group for any medical condition has one of these (this is a poster who posts almost the identical comment on EVERY SINGLE post from a new user).

"Just a bit of information. Raynaud’s is often the first sign of an impending autoimmune disease invading your body. Yes, dress warmly and keep your core warm, but while you do that and live your life, leaky gut has done a job on you and invited disease to take hold. It might be lupus, Scleroderma, Sjogren’s, arthritis or a gut issue, but it will be something. I’m living the lack of knowledge...ha you have Raynaud’s so keep warm. Well I am now in possession of 5 autoimmune diseases. Read all you can because you can stop this in its tracks and just deal with Raynaud’s by removing all wheat, rye and barley from your diet. Are you celiac because that is one major way leaky gut gets started. Get tested because if you have it, so does your family and they too will have issues but they might be different from you and none of them could be gut related. Read...read. I like The Autoimmune Fix by Dr Tom Obryan and his site TheDr.com. Leaky gut comes from eating inflammatory foods and can only be fixed by removing all 100% of those foods and that’s not just bread and cookies, but hidden foods like soy sauce and bouillon, barley is beer. I can say this because I have done the research and I just want to let you know there is an answer. It’s not easy at first, but it’s really not easy battling sickness that takes your life away. Give it 3 weeks to see some beneficial change.

So, I totally disagree on so many counts, but actually some of my symptoms could indicate Celiac by modern research, so I may ask about that and if things don't clear up I may consider a FODMAP style phase to figure out if anything is triggering me.

In the meantime I'll be "doing the research" and/or staring at Facebook while trying to figure out what I can give to Chaya that she'll actually eat that WON'T be problematic when she then decides she'd rather feed me the rest of her meal.

The J.D.-But-Not-Attorney Party Doesn't Have the Same Ring as Bachelor Party Does It??

Tomorrow I officially get sworn in to the Washington State Bar as an Attorney at Law. That's right, I will no longer just be THE LAW DOCTOR (J.D.'s gotta mean something, right? And I've gotta be obnoxious, don't I??). I will be a tried and true shark authorized to tell people things that my malpractice insurance shall rue twenty years down the road! Yes, this time tomorrow, I will be completely allowed to hold the lives/livelihoods/trust/finances of others in a terrifying fiduciary relationship. Be afraid!! Be very afraid!!

The swearing-in is a ceremony involving oaths given by officials and a major lifetime commitment (that can ended with a fair deal of public embarrassment), so basically it is like getting married to WSBA. It's the culmination of three years of investment, planning, sacrifice and struggle and will be a deeply emotional time marking a milestone in my life. It is also, as mentioned, a commitment full of promises about future behavior and dedication.. Leading to this point was a blood-chilling level of time, emotional energy and money thrown into making this day possible.

Instead of wedding invitations and save the date cards, I have business cards and announcements in the bar news. Instead of a new (optional) last name, I get a WSBA number. Instead of a white dress, I'll probably wear a suit (ok, my getting married won't involve a white dress either because that is *so* not my color). On second thought, maybe I really should wear a wedding dress to my swearing in. Instead of my parents "giving me away," my mom - as mentor and boss - will be "introducing" me. Oh and there will be handshakes and hugs and many congratulations from people I somewhat know, but mostly know of. 

So, since today is my last day as a non-lawyer, what I wanna know is: where is my legal equivalent of a bachelor party? Do I get to go out tonight and break every single rule of professional conduct? Draft wills giving myself big legacies for non-family members? Contract for media rights to clients' stories? Make defamatory comments about judges? I just don't know. Or do I celebrate one last day by defying the lifestyle itself - e.g. Not drink heavily, suffer depression and anxiety, or pet my smartphone more than my cat?? Do I dress up as a fairy princess, make completely visceral comments on recent press-covered jury trials, and use the word "clearly" without any kind of "well it depends" qualification?

Also, do I get a bar-swearing-in cake? First dance??

Advice? Suggestions? All will be considered.


Also, I can't seem to cut and paste the official bar announcement with my photo, but this was the announcement my mom published in the Bar News:

LawOffice of Pamela E Englett, PLLC is proud to announce that Adella Thompson, daughter of Pam Englett, is joining the firm.  Adella will be sworn in on November 4, 2011.  She graduated with honors from the University of Washington Law School and will be practicing Family Law.  She has a couple years of mediation training and practice and has completed the Collaborative Law training.  She comes with a background that includes dancing and teaching Argentine Tango and was the Dance Sport Champion of the 2007 Star Ball in Seattle.  She is accepting new dance students now and will be accepting Family Law clients after November 4, 2011! J

Today is just a little bit more the first day of the rest of my life

Shakily leafing through handfuls of ads and bills, I stood in the little cul-de-sac where my mom lives. There it was: "to Adella Thompson, luv the Washington State Bar Association" typed neatly in more official words on the outside. The dreaded envelop of life changing portent! Inside that innocuous white paper lay the key to my career or the agony of at least six more months of bar-angsting agony. Standing there, judging the weight to decide if it was heavy enough to be an acceptance letter, I had one of those "red-pill-blue-pill" moments. But it was too late to turn back. Ripping open the outer seal, I saw forms. Forms are good - things to fill out, checks to write... these are good. Anything but a slim sheet of tersely worded "NO" is good. There were demographics surveys. That was good. But there would be no release until I saw those words "We are pleased to inform you..." Surely they wouldn't be pleased to break my heart and crush my dreams. Surely!! Right??? YOU HAVE PASSED THE BAR. Six months of dizzying panic, tears, gnashing of teeth rushed from every pore in a not-entirely-comfortable catharsis. I screamed "oh thank god," startling the children playing near by, and crunch over in a sudden onset of tears. I remember these tears. When the report on my mom's hysterectomy came back with stage ONE (i.e. "highly treatable"), they were the same tears. Sheer and utter relief and the dying thralls of those omnipresent lingering "what ifs" that seep between our human optimism. "IT" was over.

Not wanting to scare my mom - waiting patiently inside - with the teary eyes and staggering shakes that were coursing through me, I took a moment to breathe and compose myself, wandered into the house and nearly whispered "I passed." We hugged. I cried a little bit. I'm pretty sure she cried a little bit. The hug lasted roughly the duration of the Reagan administration. There were forms. Yes, forms. Before telling any one else, there were forms. To make it real. I wrote the licensing check three times in decreasingly chaotic scrawl, still shaking and shaking my head. I filled out each additional form, liberally crossing out the unrush of typos and misinformation that gushed from my pen in the haze of relieved stupor. Envelops? Of course not. But minor details.Finally, I reclaimed my backpack, laden with the Barbri books I was too superstitious to get rid of until I knew I wouldn't be needing them again. Books went into the recycling.

At the end of the day, this is the end of limbo! Even before the end of the day. At the end of mail service. The hold placed on my life this last six months (three years?) has officially been lifted. Now it's business cards, advertisements, malpractice insurance! In two weeks, I will be a sworn in member of the legal profession authorized to "practice" and boy had I better practice, because I am breathless at the kind of responsibility I'm about to acquire in my newly formed fiduciary relationships.

Over the next two weeks, it is slowly going to settle in - those questions and feelings and fears that I might have expected at graduation, but was too busy to reflect upon. For now, though, forget what it means to have the future wide open and to be forming a permanent professional relationship with the same pomp and commitment as the marriages I'm planning to help dissolve (ok, hopefully the marriages that won't need my services)... for now, let it rest merely with this: I never ever ever have to take the bar exam ever again!!!!

Seattle, Collaboration and 'Cross

I am now steps closer to being a Collaborative Attorney (oooooh aaaaaaaaah). This means eventually I will have to start initiating legal actions by finding the respondent's attorney and throwing flaming pitchforks at said attorney screaming "OUT VILE CUR!!!" Darnit! Also, since I'm not an attorney, per se, probably doing so may be a slight issue of unauthorized practice of law (and, uh, ok for old time's sake arson in the the 1st degree, assault in the 1st-2nd, and probably theft of a flaming pitchfork in the 1st degree - thanks Bar Exam for learnin' me some gud law!)

 The final hurdle remains hanging in the air in a poor sword of Damocles imitation involving this coming Friday and an increasing anxiety over the mail box. Dammit, Bar results really will get mailed out after this long phase of denial and deferral! And yes, I am having the requisite flashbacks and anxiety dreams. I would like to request that people defer their "oh I'm sure you passed" and "after next week when you're an attorney" support, because it really does just make me feel more anxious and in my typical attorney way, it is more comforting to me to work on my "if I didn't pass" plan in tandem with my "if I did pass" plan and weight them both equally for the time being in terms of likelihood. Ok, enough of that crap. Bleck. Yes, this paragraph is probably liable for Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress.

Hanging in legal limbo

BUT, I have my facilitative dispute resolution training more than satisfied and after this weekend also have my actual Collaborative Law training... I'm not sure exactly how much extra I learned on the final training, which may have fared better on the usefulness scale had I been more rutted into the mindset of the "traditional attorney." This was a constant theme - shifting our paradigms, except the paradigm they were assigning to non-collaborative law was simply alien to me. This is not only a result of my other mediation training, but because all of my practical skills classes at UW teach from a client-based/interests-based-negotiations model that is far more akin to the Collaborative Paradigm than the "Litigation Model" that they were touting, in which lawyers are cold, bossy, adversarial, fact-pattern monsters who think they know best and want to duke it out in gladiatorial combat instead of recognizing that emotions play a huge part to an effective resolution of any legal issue.

Collaborative divorce requires changing the narrative of what divorce is. It isn't failure, it isn't brokenness, it isn't eternal conflict. It's a major life transition, in which there will be fear and grieving, but also unprecedented opportunity to redefine the future for both parties and take agency over the closing of one chapter of their lives. 

This gels well with my experience of divorce-as-opportunity. I was a little taken aback when a child specialist attending the training told me and another attorney trainee that (1) all children think divorce is their fault, and (2) that even into adulthood, they wish in some part that their parents would get back together. Maybe I did and am suppressing those feelings, but I'm pretty fucking skeptical. I honestly think divorce was one of the best things that happened to my parents during my life and that I'm not really sure if I'd have a relationship with my father if not for the divorce. Anyways, regardless of all of that, analogizing from break-ups and other major life upheavals, not ending is without a beginning and these tumultuous events often are what give us the impetus we need to make changes we were too afraid to make when it risked losing the status quo.

 It's always interesting to wonder - going over the plethora of people skills - why on earth attorneys should be at the center of these facilitative models. Unquestionably, the training for this approach is available in law school, but it is not the dominant set of skills taught (although arguably, the ability to connect with people will be the ultimate gauge of future success far more than most of the learned skills). I have seen the value of involving attorneys in the mediation process, particularly because knowing the law contributes more than you'd imagine to the holy grain of ADR: the durable agreement. I also think that knowledge of the law is extremely helpful in mediation or collaboration as a resource for objective measurements if parties are stymied, for reality testing (they didn't teach this per se, but essentially did under the name of "client education"). And I suppose, not just knowlege of the law, but that ability to foresee all possible snags and contingencies that might make an otherwise great plan deflate. Still, that we are the ones meant to be managing the process, well ok, if any part of the attorney stereotype resonates it's that attorneys are control freaks and we're more than familiar with process, so maybe it works out pretty well.

Incidentally, the pictures above were taken at the site of the training, Hotel Deca, which is gorgeous and surprisingly located in the middle of the U District.

*** Abrupt Transition Please ***

Between and after training, there were my typical Mr. Wright related sundries with-special-guests... his Dad and Uncle who were up from California on a road trip that surely could qualify as a winner at the next Sundance Film Festival should anyone have thought to record it. Andrew's Dad brought us presents - mine being an extra large shirt that reads "Love an Engineer" (which I do, if we accept that "engineer" is more an internal quality than a piece of paper/job description... or maybe he suspects I'm having an affair with one of Andrew's classmates), and Andrew a large silver thing that looks a bit like a trumpet or a horn of some sort and which we postulate may have been one of those huge airhorns they put on semis.My shirt was extra-large so I could wear it both in my "present condition" and any "future conditions that might result from my relationship with his son" (badabing badaboom, I think even if Mr. Wright didn't hear that one out loud, there was a chilled disturbance in the parents-embarrassing-me force, which cracked me up)

. But seriously, I love Andrew's dad: he's completely adorable. I want to buy some kind of kettle corn or other family-type-comfort food from him.

Naturally, since Andrew had guests, he had to race for them, so we found a cyclocross race that he would not have ordinarily attended out in Tacoma. Of course that it was in Tacoma would sound like an excellent reason he might not have attended, but actually it's just that it's a different group putting it together and they have lots more stupid rules. And more people as it would turn out. And more people meant more crashes. Some fairly spectacular wipe outs, actually. Glad to say that nobody got too badly injured and the rain maintained a steady low of mist instead of all out spectator-hostillity. Andrew's Dad was tickled pink, his uncle was disappointed there weren't more crashes, and I was just glad that I actually had forethought enough to pack some food this time around. Oh yeah and Andrew thought he could have done better, but I'm mostly just happy he's alive.

I think my favorite moment from the race was a little father-son heartwarming that did not originate in the Wright blood lines. Across the way from Andrew's truck there was a dad with his son. As the cyclo-cross motto "what happens in the parking lot stays in the parking lot" pretty much guarantees that few people have the residual modesty to cover themselves while changing, the father drop kit entirely when getting into his shorts. It's something you just kind of get used to diverting your eyes from when it comes up... and hoping that they are not doing this changing right in front of one of the driver's side mirrors as is sometimes the case (objects in the mirror really are larger than they appear?? I'd hope so!). In this case though, the son was acting as voice of modesty and actively trying to block the public view of his father's derriere. He didn't look ashamed, but fully resolute in his duty to protect his father's dignity. I thought it was cute anyhow. Here's a photo of them both fully dressed.

Speaking of children at 'cross races. This child is insane! He was at the begining of the cat 4 men and stayed there.

not a short adult - that's a kid

Anyways, all was well and I came home to an excitingly hectic week of two trials and another Continuing Legal Education day (retirement assets and family law!). I probably should stop taking these before being admitted to the bar, since I'm wasting all kinds of credits that could be going to the mandatories. But then again, it's a good distraction and just in case I do pass, it might be good if I'm semi-competent going forward. I am after all, a law school graduate and finally have the damned paper to prove it:

That only took uh more months than my math savvy is willing to count

Life After Bar

There is in fact such a life... I think. We'll see. It's been an odd feeling of emptiness and confusion, mixed with a lingering phantom panic/guilt that I am not in fact practicing essays any more. I am going through the stages of bar exam, I think: there's some denial (see above), bargaining ("please, if I failed something, let it be PR!!!"), anger (random flashes of irritability and fatalistic conclusions based on the slightest triggers), depression (or really unprovoked crying jags, at least, for the first few days... they seem to have dwindled now that I've gotten sleep), and acceptance (mixed with an oddly sanguine conviction that I have, in fact failed and that will probably be kind of embarrassing to have to explain to people since I am such an ordinarily clever girl in the top 10% of her fairly prestigious law school and thus will have let my school, my friends, and the WSBA down... and yes, that's what makes the sanguinity so odd).

And yes, if you had a hard time reading through all that last sentence with the weird formatting - you've experienced the joy of being a bar exam grader. Lucky you!! Wait, I forgot the parenthetical numbering. I shall attempt to remedy this defect immediately!

Baby shark gets her wings and flies to the rescue!!

In order to completely divorce my brain from the post-bar-PSTD, I have done quite little. Well this isn't entirely true. I've drooled. I've watched a number of riveting features of Shark Week (see it's SHARKS and I just finishing the bar exam and see, lawyers are sometimes called sharks so it's like totally appropriate). Sharks are cute and some species have 2 penises, which is not what makes them cute necessarily but it's interesting. 

I have expanded my dietary range from peanut butter and bread, which is the best travel staples ever. I briefly encountered my sister, brother in law and 3 nephews (yep, there's THREE of them now, although I suspect the new one is actually an animatronic muppet) before they fled to Canada.

Oh and I have looked into finding housing now that I live in Bellingham (sort of, anyways). By "looked into" I mostly mean (1) opening up various search sites and listings (2) panicking (3) screaming "these all look the same!!!" (4) alternating between writing various management companies to schedule meetings and defaulting to my facebook respite. 

Anyways, just before I had to pull the trigger on actually looking at an apartment, I heard from my friend Matt who may have a room for me in his house. Since he is one of very few people I could ever imagine sharing a living space with (considering our respective levels of neatness, introversion, and general temperaments...), AND it would oddly satisfy my sense of narrative circularity that he is one of my two close friends from my turgid teen years and I've already been roomies with the other one.

 Anyways, I don't want to talk myself up into too much enthusiasm until we meet up tomorrow to iron out details, but I could dig it. Since I am officially moving my stuff, minus staging related furniture, out of the Seattle place on Thursday... well it would be nice to have the living situation sorted out before my sister and her brood return from their vacation within vacation

I also saw a real live(ish) movie and everything: Friends With Benefits. The undeniable appeal of this movie needs little explanation, but mainly it is that the stars are hot and fairly funny physical comedians, and there is a pretty fantastic supporting cast. 

The drawbacks of this movie are mostly that it is extremely dated, and I can't help if this movie was meant to be a period piece set in the, say, mid-2000's. Or at least the mix of "ooooh what is this novel thing where friends have sex but don't get into a relationship that the kids are doing these days" (which I'm pretty sure was a well-known and heavily experienced arrangement since before my first stab at college), the basic idea of parodying the rom-com genre while making a rom-com film (kind of been done a lot with possibly more to say), and the "A FLASH MOB, you say? What the dickens is a FLASH MOB?? How delightful!" smacks a bit of corn... yes I know, nothing new under the sun. On the bright side, I like to imagine that having been featured in a romantic comedy such as this, flash mobs have officially been consigned to the history books as that "momentarily charming but increasingly ANNOYING thing that essentially inspired the television show Glee and myriad other evils." (That's not fair. I've never seen Glee and have no sense of its evil)

But no, I guess what intrigued me most was that they made a rather pointed homage-parody-rip-off of the famous Harry Met Sally speech, both in their mock rom-com movie and in the inevitable final scene (with a FLASHMOB? What the dickens...).

 I do think in many ways, this movie strove to be something of an update to Harry Met Sally, but gave up before reaching that level. In the first case, the question was "can men and women be emotionally intimate without it getting complicated?" and in the latter it has the veneer of the complementary "can they be physically intimate..." except actually they were asking "can men and women be both emotionally intimate and physically intimate without... uh" well it does linger on the valid question of what's left to a romantic partnership other than these two intimacies and I credit them for working well with that.

Additionally, the films both revolve around an evolving dialogue between the leads about a romantic movie (Casablanca in the first place, and a fictional rom-com caricature in the second) and around conversations that bubble up only between men and women who are not dating, about their outtakes regarding dating/sex experience (the "I'll have what she's having" deli fake orgasm being the obvious example).  

I will say that I have heard from my dvd special features that Harry Met Sally actually was never intended to end happily - that  it would just be too complicated and they would be forced to part ways after the relationship went to that physical level. And in some sense, you can feel that tension and inherent doubt in the movie.We don't get that from Friends With Benefits, in which it is patently obvious from the first five or so minutes exactly how the entire romance is going to pan out.

 The writers seem to present the rom-com formula (mockingly at first) and make an outright declaration that it will be followed. Most glaringly being that - unlike the protagonists in HMS - the FWB leads are obviously perfect for each other, and although there's that emotionally unavailable thing... it just doesn't have the same repellent magnetism that really makes you doubt for a minute that they actually are already together in essentially everything but name. 

So what I'm saying is, I think I enjoyed the movie, but I wish they hadn't evoked HMS, which managed both to define and transcend the rom-com genre and which set the comparison standard rather high. But of course, as said, there are some pretty dazzling displays of semi-nudity and intermittent flashes of hilarity/profundity, and the actors really are quite good. 

Also, it was not The Smurfs, which I have been achingly tempted to go view based largely on a mix of masochism and devotion to Tim Gunn who is in a probably painfully featured in a small role.

It has been taken - Post-Bar blathering

Taking the bar is a lot like flying transatlantic three days in a row. That's the closest analogy that springs to mind. You are tired, passing through multiple security lines (and yes, things have to be in certain sized plastic bags), you have to present your seat ticket and i.d. to get anywhere, you're stuck with very limited carry on, you have earplugs, there are times when you are not allowed to leave your seat or move around the cabin, your biggest concern is your bathroom schedule and you're perpetually dehydrated.Seriously, I feel more jet lagged than anything else.

The additional terror of the exam has nothing to do with the actual questions (ok the looming terror of that question you are totally unprepared for is still there..) Mostly though, it's that it all rides on our computers! I had two close calls where the software didn't load quite right and nearly had to hand write. I was just putting pen to paper when they brought my laptop back in functioning condition (each table has a pink card that you hold up if you have a computer problem and magical computer elves come and fix your problems).

 And it's not just whether the computers function during the test. The way the software works is that it locks the answers in a file on our computer. We then must later upload these when we get internet access. Meaning between the bar and the upload... ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN. Especially since we are not allowed to bring our laptop bags in with us. This means that around the testing room there are droves of tired, stressed out, underslept examinees carrying laptops in one hand and coffee in the other - all the while navigating a floor strewn with power cords.It's a melt-down waiting to happen. Glad to say that all files have been uploaded, although there's always that chance one of the files is corrupted somehow... oh the joy of technology!

Anyways, really, sincerely I have no idea *how* it went except I suspect that really isn't an appropriate question. Short of "passing" I never ever ever want to know how I did. There were some fun questions - no kidding, I got a real kick out of a combined sales and secured transactions question for no good reason other than perhaps a full on fit of Stockholm Syndrome. I typed like a dervish and was mildly concerned to find myself finishing re-reading and editing my answers with about twenty minutes to spare on most sessions. But then again, it was nice to have a few moments of silence (they let you leave early unless it's the last ten minutes and then you have to wait a really long time while they pick up test materials, so finishing early is a huge boon). And my seat-mate was a nice guy... good travel companion. Turns out that we were both 2011 UW grads, although he transferred in from California (smart man).

I'm a little flummoxed with life after the bar. It doesn't quite have a tangible meaning yet. I know that there are all kinds of activities I once enjoyed. That I have *friends* and have once been capable of - what's that called - interacting with other human beings?? I'm not entirely sure. I was telling my seatmate that I think that Barbri and other prep courses are really missing out in not offering some kind of post-bar rehabilitation program to get us all back to functioning human beings. In the meanwhile, People's Court seems to be an appropriate transitional aid... or at least it works for the caffeinated brain dead drooling.

Life Lessons Bar Style

1. If you obtain a job by claiming to have lots of experience as a bartender, chef, etc. this is fraud and you probably shouldn't do it, because inevitably it will end up with your employer finding out somehow, defaming you in public, before taking your possessions, threatening you, and locking you in a closet or walk-in freezer for hours before the owner's wife lets you out. You will probably have pneumonia and health complications.

2. If you're planning to get married on Christmas day and your fiance gives you a wrapped package with a prenup inside... well, it probably won't be enforceable if you sign it, but it's not a great sign for the future of your marriage.

3. Nobody ever sues anybody until the day before the Statute of Limitations runs out. It's a rule.

4. All administrative judges are insane, probably hate you and never make written findings of fact (you'd think they'd get fired more often). Actually, judges generally hate you and think your opponent deserves to recover a lot. They'll probably say so to the jury during your trial. And the prosecutor... he thinks you're guilty and live in a brothel and he'll tell the jury as well.

5. If you're in a partnership of some sort, your partners will immediately go out, get drunk and run into somebody while on the job. They will also steal all your business opportunities and trade partnership services for the benefit of your relatives. Never be in a partnership.

6. The first thing a tenant will do upon moving in is to bolt a bunch of things to the wall and cieling (don't worry, they'll rip them out before moving) and possibly black out the windows, concrete up all the plumbing and release their hordes of rats. Landlords will regularly enter the property and steal. If something goes wrong with the apartment, tenants will never notify landlords until the situation gets waaay worse, and when they do landlords will never fix it. Never rent.

7. If you enter into a land-sale contract, be aware that probably the property has been adversely possessed, your seller is going to execute some weird deed that only gives you a life estate, and somewhere along the lines the place will burn to the ground. Never buy property either.

8. If you ever write a check, somebody will either indorse and then lose it or add a few thousand dollars to the amount.

9. Any time a seller ships goods via truck to another merchant, this truck will explode, crash, or vanish somewhere between point A to B.

10. Don't take drugs: they are always tainted and either you or your underage girlfriend/cousin/friend will die and if you don't die you'll get really mad and go out and light somebody's car on fire, which will make them angry and suddenly they'll be assaulting you and trust me, when you get arrested and ask for your lawyer, you are not going to do it unambiguously enough to actually trigger your right to counsel (and remember: your judge and the prosecutor already hate you and all your jurors have photos of you that they found hacking your web page)

Babybri Story Time!

I am a little agog, remembering how many of my fellow 3Ls were currently or pendingly with child, and trying to guess how many of these are going through the Bar prep nonsense that I am with a tot. So I thought I'd help.Babybri (TM, but not really) helps you study for the bar and read to that little bundle of res that you spawned in your 3L year and will probably be entitled as an omitted child to that will you theoretically executed to his or her intestate share:

(Once upon a time, in December 2004, while living in Vancouver WA, Dave worked for Bart’s Busline, a company headquartered in Portland Oregon, that provided chartered bus service throughout the Northwest.

On December 20,2004 Digger Dave drove a large group of Forest Denizens to a casino owned and oeprated by a federally recognized Indian tribe on tribale reservation land within the magical kingdom of WA. While Dave helped passengers exit the bus, a casino-owned van driven by a tribal employee plowed into the rear. Patty Potammus, a non-Indian passenger on the bus, fell out the door, struck and injured Dave, and fractured her hip. Patty was transported to a nearby hospital.

A replacement bus was delivered while the remaining group gambled. Afterwards, Dave drove the new buss off the reservation toward Wenatchee, to take his passengers home. On a Chelan County road, Dave drove too fast for the conditions, lost control and collided with a dragon driven by Sally Sloth. Sally was taken to a nearby hospital with a broken tail. No other injuries were reported.

On December 21, 2004 the Chelan County Sheriff interviewed Sally, mistook her for a wanted felon, arrested her, and placed her in the county jail.

Then, Milly the Wizard accidentally dropped some time freeze from her magical potion store and suddenly it was almost three years later! Just before the expiration of the statute of limitations on tort claims! When they unfroze, Dan, Sally, and Patty shook themselves off and raced to different courthouses with appropriately pled complaints. They all served each other in various inadequate ways in the wrong venue and then they laughed "ha ha ha ha" and went and got ice cream sandwiches (which were naturally tainted by leaking chemicals in an improperly installed ice cream maker contracted for installation by Fauna the Ferret and produced by Gnomes, Inc. in China who exclusively do business there but do maintain an active website...)

And they all sued each other ever after

The End

***

Addendum:

I don't have to do much to improve on the magnificence of some of these bar questions. Here's a dime novel introduction from Commercial Paper (checks and negotiable instruments) - and I present it to you with the automatic presentment and transfer warranties of no material alterations:


It was a dark and stormy night, so Helen was in the office catching up on her business's paperwork instead of leading her usually very popular VolcanoLights tour. Warm August nights were typically busy for the Couger, WA, business but if Helen had learned one thing during the summer of 2004, it was that no one wanted to look for exploding volcanoes in the rain. While the volcano might have been quiet, when she opened her May, June, and July bank statements, Helen herself erupted in anger.

More of the same but on Sunday!

Well I've officially *exhausted* (har har - it's a standing administrative law/civ pro joke ha ha... ha... ha) my constitutional law essay review questions on the first day of substantive review (no more lectures or new material!) for the omnipresent bar exam. 

I've gotta say, the next person who criticizes a disfavored political actor from EITHER party as having done/said/opined something "unconstitutional" (ever notice how common that charge is even though few people - and there is an inverse relation between people who've studied constitutional issues and their claim to understanding what the hell it means - have any idea what that term means except that it's magic and meant to send chills down our respective spines!) will receive little sympathy from me for the reaction that they receive. This day has cemented three year's of law study confirming my hypothesis that the constitution was created solely to torment law students and bar applicants. I should write a book about our founding fathers and how they hated lawy students, really. People might believe me and/or give me money for it. Just saying. Y'all have been warned. 

Naw, "conlaw" has nothing really to do with that whole piece of paper some dead white dudes signed. It's way more fun and involves totally convoluted legacies of Supreme Court decisions, the WA state constitution and this whole administrative agency EVERYTHING (since agencies control the world). That said, the document receives some vicarious vitriol just having started this whole rigmarole in the first place. If only we had a monarchy! Or a CONSITUION! I want one of those. 

And in additional fairness, the field can be fun, if ambiguous, but I do feel that the questions for this portion of the exam are particularly obscure and that nearly identical fact patterns yield drastically different "model answers" in terms of what issues we were apparently supposed to address. I often feel like shaking my essay book and screaming "what do you want from me?" Because I do feel that maybe the conlaw portion of the bar is a little bit passive aggressive.

That said, it's just one more pit stop on the way to pure August oblivion, so can't complain too much. I even managed to see my family and significant other a bit on Saturday. Wooowooo.

Well hello there July

Well, the trees agree: it's officially summer in the PNW.  Yes, Summer. That elusive but eidetic oasis of a season in the midst of what many describe as persistently grey and oppressive blech. Being descended from bog-dwellers, I'm not so averse to the drizzle, but the odd perfect day is alright with me as well. 

And let it never be said that staying indoors on this lovely summer day to watch lectures about Professional Responsibility (bottom line, don't have sex clients while doing drugs procured with money another client gave you as an advance fee while you should be at a hearing) doesn't come with a sense of summer whimsy.

Y'all do see Mr. Birdie, right? I mean I'm not claiming a strong sense of reality here, but... you do see him?!?

Studying is fun, really. See, it's all a game (as found by Molly in - you'll never guess - Skymall): 

Fun fun fun!!! Sadly, targeted at the Multi-State, and not WA. 

Midway point

This week was the dreaded SIMULATED EXAM(!!!!!!!) that Barbri offers to get us mentally prepared to (1) figure out whether we want to list our J.D. on our application to Barnes and Nobles (2) know what to expect - in miniature - and hopefully identify any problems that might arise at the actual exam before we get there. It's not exactly a mirror image of the bar exam itself, being only one day versus three. But it is slightly more realistic than the mini-exam segments that we have been self-administering.

The highlight of my exam experience came the evening before, when - with full expectations of peaceful review evening - I arrived at the apartment arms full of groceries to discover that all of my possessions had been wrapped in plastic and left in the middle of the room and the walls were in a sundry stage of being painted. Ultimately, not a hugely shocking event, considering the place is undergoing extensive renovations in anticipation of my moving and the subsequent resale, but ... well, it might have caused me to blink a bit in the most sane of circumstances and - as mentioned before - I am experiencing the emotional stability of a pregnant teenage girl with bi-polar disorder. 

Anyways, Andrew took me and my groceries in and I managed to make it to the exam and everything.

The exam itself wasn't so bad. I mean, of course it was bad, but once you're there, you're there and you just have to work through it. The mental fatigue probably doesn't really kick in until day two. As it was, this wasn't too far afield of a regular study day or maybe two lawschool exams on the same day (ok, that sounds awful). And, yes, yes, I did "better than I expected," but to all of you reassuring people who aren't familiar with the bar and hold the conviction that I am kicking ass based on prior success or innate intelligence... well "better" means "closer to passing." You have to average a score of 7 on all the answers to pass. I've gotten a decent slew of sevens, but they might still be pulled down by the 5's and 6's. Still some work to go, shockingly enough. If not, I guess I'd feel pretty ripped off by the $3k bar prep fees (or would if I hadn't gotten that scholarship to cover them... but the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers might feel a bit peeved)

Our essays are scored by various people who also score the real exam essays, but we get feedback. It's both entertaining and terrifying to note the variations in temperaments of the 30 odd scorers we get. Some of them are definitely more generous than others. Some are super supportive with their "good rule"-"nice issue spot"-"great font!" type feedback, while others say virtually nothing, and still others will basically rewrite the entire essay for how you should have written. 

My favorite is when the stylistic advice given by two graders contradicts each other: it's like being the child of recently divorced parents with different concepts of discipline. And although it's not clearly mathematically related to how the final "scores" are tallied, they have kind of a scoring sheet of issues and rules expected in the model answer, and I will say some scorers are more or less generous about giving you credit. So, ultimately, I'm learning that the bar exam is hugely subjective and impossible to predict and maybe the switch to multiple choice isn't that horrible a thing.

And of course, I am never ever moving (to anywhere that doesn't have reciprocity with WA) once I have a WSBA number. Although, if this bar thing doesn't work out, I guess could go the way of the new USA show "Suits" which apparently is all about some high powered corporate attorney who hires a new "associate" who just happens to be a "brilliant" slacker college drop out and of course hijinks ensue as he practices law and pretends to be a Harvard grad... my question about this: don't they assign bar numbers in New York (I assume it's in NY)? Doesn't the "firm" have an HR department? I'm perplexed, but not enough to watch.

Also, honestly, how is this anything less than a watered down take on the show about the brilliant slacker who pretends to be a psychic to work for the police (Ok, I enjoy Psych). Or the story of the brilliant conman who works for the man finding insider traders? ... I'm sensing something of a USA theme here, maybe (I mean other than the "All Law and Order:SVU/CI 25 hours a day" of which I have to say I thoroughly approve - or the "ridiculously bad-ass hot blond women in some kind of interesting niche of law enforcement" theme). Oh apparently, the brilliance of the Suits dude is that he has a photographic memory. I'm unclear exactly how that's a particularly pertinent trait to the practice of law.

 Ok, so by "go the way of" I don't really mean be an idealized representation of the modern American male who still lives at home, can't hold down a relationship, and is otherwise an overgrown child, but it works because he's super charming and smart (sorry, *most guys in your twenties*, you're probably not brilliant), but more like "watch a lot of USA tv shows while I cry."

Sequential Harms/Loves/Long-Long-Weekends

Hello from the hole (yes, that is a picture of "the hole" and no, I didn't draw it). Thought I'd poke my head back into cyberspace for a second to insist that y'all know how I'm doing (or at least that I'm still alive-ish).  I'm a wee bit... haha, ok really really really tired. Amazing that I have another month to go. I'm told I'm about a week away from "hitting the wall" - yes we're unsubtle about our endurance sports metaphors. Anyways, yes, the prep is exhausting, but far more exhausting has been trying to squeeze the prep around an otherwise pretty jam-packed June. And kind of an emotional wringer of a June.

The first weekend of prep, I came up to Bellingham (it's kind of a theme) to attend a PeaceHealth fundraising Gala at which my Dad recieved a really awesome award and made a particularly moving speech (tears, of course and A LOT of socializing with people in evening gowns and tuxes). Of course to do this, there was a lot of shifting around of the study schedule (which does not rest on the Sabbath I will have you know), and the general logistical headaches that arise when an on-edge insanely punctual girl rides to the 'ham with a laissez faire boy who doesn't always keep track of time when he's out riding and they hit some fun traffic on a hot day! And it was a fundraiser for the new cancer center, so many tears were shed for many speeches and inspiring stories. I even saw my boss from my first legal internship with PeaceHealth and got to spend much of the evening with my extremely pregnant sister who'd flown out for the event! Fun, exhausting and I didn't get any sleep naturally.

The second weekend of prep, I actually stayed in Seattle shockingly. We had rescheduled the ballet to Saturday from the weekend before and the next day was GRADUMACATION. Think I talked about that briefly, so you know ... the usual mix of inspiration, harried rushing, panic, a pass at musing at the meaning of three extremely significant years that failed to compute. And didn't get any sleep, naturally.

And this last weekend was the big event: the marriage of my M&M's (Molly and Marcus - my bestest buddies other than the imaginary unicorns who whisper bar answers to me after ten or eleven hours of catch up after weekends like the last three). 

There was a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner the night before at Semiahmoo (virtually, but not actually Canada). I began to suspect the dinner might last until the actual wedding given the insanely lugubrious service schedule (I was furthering suspecting that we'd all died, and this was some Satrerian hell to which we'd all been condemned), after which I drove halfway home from Semiahmoo before "realizing" my cell phone was MIA. Knowing I'd had it in hand as I fled the dinner hall (apparently when you are in the resort, Verizon believes you are in Canada so I had been receptionless for upwards of two or three hours!!!), so I was utterly convinced that I must have dropped it in the parking lot. So panicked drive almost all the way back only to hear the faint chime of my apparently still present and intact cell phone. After a good fifteen or more minutes of border guard level searching, it blithely alit from the heavens and appeared in an auto cranny. And of course, as is tradition, I got lost a few times. So I got home somewhere long after ten to the boyfriend who had been alone waiting at my mom's house since he got caught in traffic around 6 p.m. and figured there'd be no point in coming to the rehearsal dinner at that point.

Then of course the wedding. Such a rush of every possible emotion. I will say with all the other things going on, I have deferred the pre-programmed female crises that automatically pop up on the loss of one's last and best female friend to the snares of holy matrimony - for now those can stay in the movie Bridesmaids until I have a chance to process the whole law school thing. Mostly there was a melange of everything going wrong all at once, stress levels exceeding bursting, and pure ecstatic "oh my god you look so beautiful and you ARE GETTING MARRIED!!" The ceremony was gorgeous and they did this really beautiful bit at the end where they brought Molly's son up and exchanged vows to him. Every one, of course, cried. Oddly probably the coolest thing for me was signing the wedding certificate as a witness. Maybe I'm just a law geek, or maybe it was just such a private moment, it was particularly meaningful to be there.

 Oh and did I mention, it was my anniversary with Andrew? It was. We stayed out at the resort to celebrate, but after all the ado, the celebration mostly involved staggering into the room, making a pass at the pounds of pretty that the stylists had given me and staring at the wall for a few hours before trying to go to bed in the room that had been set to about 74 degrees all day. He celebrated by napping in the extremely hot room all day. We decided that given our mutual low-to-unemployment that we weren't going to front the price of the swanky breakfast, so of course when I woke up starving the next morning, it became rapidly crucial for us to go home quickly! And of course  from there, I had the day of bar prep to sludge through (they saved Constitutional Law for this special occasion, because they loooove me so!) Needless to say, I did not really sleep.

And yes, I promptly tore a hole in
this dress w/ my heel

 So, I may be recovering. I'm not sure. There were some days there were I was so wrung out that I could really cry for no reason. And I don't mean "for no reason" as in "at the slightest provocation," I mean for literally and absolutely no reason. But I seem to be a bit caught back up and am planning a particularly dull and uneventful study filled weekend. With about ten hours of sleep per evening, I think I'm possibly recovering for a second wind. One can knock on wood.Maybe the wall I'm predicted to hit will be wood so I can knock on it??

In the meantime:

Some Barbri Characters

So I sit in the front row by habit, possibly why I didn't recognize so many of my graduating colleagues last weekend, and I've continued the tradition. This is mostly because I refuse to update my prescription until the bar has wreaked its final havoc on my myopia and because i am a teacher's pet, goody goody who likes to pay attention and nod and take notes and such sundries. It may have interfered with really getting to know my fellow bar-preppers, but there are some interesting characters in my general proximity.

Mostly, there is the little Chinese lady next to me. Note, this is not a reference to her ethnicity (although that is presumably also Chinese), but to the fact that she has a heavy accent, hails from Taiwan, behaves according to many familiar cultural tropes of a Chinese lady in her sixties, and praises the boy behind us as being so handsome because he is half Chinese. And I call her little, because she is little. Anyways, every day she comes to class with the most astounding conflagration of JUNK FOOD I have seen outside of a 711. It's possible on her way to bar prep, she gets stoned and robs at the nearest convenient store, as it is definitely a Harold and Kumar go to Bar Prep array of munchies.

And of course, she feels a fundamental imperative to share - started with me, then the girl behind us, then the boy across the way. Pretty soon she really will have to arrive with a grocery cart or pallet to satisfy her exponentially expanding need to feed. Every day I will look away for a minute and suddenly a huge pile of day-glo Doritos, a coke, and a tower of cookies will be perched on the edge of my book. It's a little baffling, since while I am the world's biggest food scavenger I am terrified of Doritos, can't drink regular soda because the sugar goes right to my stomach, and... ok, I'll eat the cookies. But it's also very rude to refuse food (in general and in most any culture that encourages the excessive giving of food). So I will often nibble quietly, wait for her to leave for a break and then sneak a huge handful of treats back into her enormous baggies of them. Sometimes she will notice that I'm running low and restock me at this point. If this happens, I leave with an enormous paper towel of ORANGE that may hide in the nearest trash receptacle. It's mildly Vaudevillian.

There is also a trio of fellas behind me for whom I developed an instantaneous and completely irrational contempt. Now, of course I've had plenty of time to make up fantastic self-rationalizing justifications for this contempt, but at the end of the day it is a contempt first, reasons later scenario and I begrudgingly admit it. I think it's something about the way they talk: like jocks. Not in content necessarily (most of the content of their conversations is about their Bar prep and I'll get to that in a sec), but in pitch, pace, drag and idiom.

 But speaking of their Bar prep (see attendant parenthetical), they do seem to have missed some of the point. We were expressly instructed many times to spend a little bit (NO MORE THAN 2 HOURS) reviewing the material we cover in lecture and make checklists (very big picture views of issues that will definitely come up) and then get into doing the essays so that we can practice recall, writing and making it up when we don't necessarily remember a rule. Their conversation is usually about their "outlines" (law school term, which I admit I use, but my notes and checklists are nothing like my law school outlines) and how they have spent four to six hours a piece every day writing them and just didn't know how they were expected to condense it down into one page (recommended length for checklists). Yesterday one of them expressed surprised that "we were supposed to be memorizing already???" As they have all been doing their practice essays with all their notes. Including the ones we turn in for comment. So, post-hoc, I roll my eyes at them a lot while trying not to overhear their conversation, and even though it doesn't effect me, I still feel like they're cheating.

I also have a doppleganger, although as all of my dopples, not so much in appearance. My dopples are often bird-like with boyish features and pixie cuts. But in habit, we both insist upon walking up to the fourth floor to use the bathroom there, take the steps two at a time, and always refill our water bottles at the drinking fountain outside. I suppose this could be the grounds for a great friendship, but we're also both awkward and introverted, so it's just kind of a funny matter of timing so that we don't spend too much time following each other and pretending we do not engage in this ritual every day.

Bah Bah Bah Bah Ba ba-rbri (it worked better in my head!)

So, you saw kind of what my summer looks like (thus no doubt anticipating the gamut of dry to barren that this blog might be for the next two months), but I wanted to give you a more in depth look at all the excitement.

Since people who don't go to law school probably don't much care or think about what law school is like and those who did already took the bar... well, probably a primer in all the ways that bar prep/the bar exam is different from law school/law school exams is kind of lost...But both involve "IRAC" (Issue -Rule -  Analysis - Conclusion). Just with different emphases. 

In law school and what's tested on exams is all about A(della... no, wait I really meant Analysis). Analysis adores complicated and nuanced issues that have no definite conclusions, and which teeter atop the rules awkwardly enough to require extended analogies, and a heavy handed peppering of caselaw, arguments, counter-arguments, and counter-counter-arguments, policy/equity considerations and ... so on. 

Bar exams are mostly about the R(ules). Generally, what would be an entire page of any laws schoolish analysis turns into something that looks like "Rule. Here, A did this. Thus A is that." And given the 4200 characters (with spaces) limit per answer... I don't suggest breaking out the law student analysis or failure is pretty imminent. So, a little different

The bar people describe this as "a drive-by approach to law," a "fire drill, legal game" and "a mile wide, but an inch deep" and other adorable colloquialism that are meant to admonish law students to abandon all prior habits and spit out choppy awkward baby paragraphs in a style to which they are fully unaccustomed.

The moral being - they've spent a lot of time at Barbri trying to knock the lawyer right back out of us: "end of sentence, period, move on" is kind of the mantra. I can't help but feel like we've got it backwards and the bar should come before law school so that students have this great wealth of generalized knowledge about the entire field and some familiarity with the rules that allows them to choose their areas of specialty and develop their analytical skills.

 My plan for the future of law is this: bar prep and exam first with a requisite score before schools are allowed to accept you (weed out the profession a bit), then two years of law school with increasing specialization and more focus on practical skills, and finally admittance to the bar by sponsorship of a supervising attorney where you will spend your last year interning. But that's just my opinion on the matter.

Anyways, enough boring words, here is my day to day in boring photo-journalistic approach:

I start my day with an online checklist. It basically governs everything I do. But checking things off it oddly satisfying and it tells me that I'm 10% of the way through.

Before lecture, we read an in depth outline on the substantive law we're covering on a given day. I do it on my treadmill because I cannot sit any more than I already am sitting for all the other stuff and my back really hates me right now!

Then we go to lecture, but I'm too bashful to take photos of this. It's on the SU campus for me which is a gorgeous little campus. It's kind of neat, because we have different lecturers every day and while it superficially resembles class, it really isn't class at all. They ultimately aren't putting their names behind our performance and we don't have to prove ourselves to them. There are no in class discussions (right there you're out of law-law land considering the insanity of law students) and ultimately the "homework" we do, isn't homework. It's not graded, it's not for them to evaluate whether to put their name behind us. It's training. They are training us to do a miniature mental marathon. Anyways, back to pictures!

After Lecture, we compile our notes and make "checklists" which are shortened-form lists of things that are meant to trigger more details. We are also expected to watch an "essay approaches" video. While the lecture focuses more on the rules most likely to be on the bar, this addresses how to organize an answer and just relayers the material a third or fourth time

For lectures and our checklists, we use a shorter outline book, which is much more to the point and laser pointed on relevant issues.

Then comes the fun part! We're not supposed to spend too much time on our checklists and memorizing the material, but to delve right into writing exam essays and learning from all the things we missed. Learning by doing and/or by failing approach. Basically every day is a miniature montage of failure and despair leading up to a vague sense of accomplishment and competency that - of course - degrades to failure and consternation with the next day's material. We do new topics every day, of course, with reviews of old topics over the weekend. Some of these are submitted and returned with feedback of a more constructive nature than "you suck," although that's probably frequently warranted.

They have "model answers" (although since these "models" usually exceed the character limit by leaps and bounds and occasionally entirely skip the "analysis" part and just give us detailed lists of the rules, I'm not sure how fair it is to call it a model anything) and a passing answer after the question, so we can go back and grade ourselves. I usually cross out incorrect or superfluous things and write the stuff I missed or that was better worded in red and then amend my notes. Then I cry softly to myself between rants of annoyance at the sheer inanity of some aspect of the model answer and how it kind of didn't address something sort of obvious etc.

Because it is all about memorizing a billion areas of law, it takes a while to remember. I keep lists kind of everywhere so that i can drill prior subjects when I'm brushing my teeth etc. It's also a snazzy and cheap decorative statement and alternative to wallpaper

Then... the cycle begins again. End of sentence. Period. Move on.