jumping on the bandwagon

Since all the cool kids are posting their schedules for the next few days before the bar, I'm going to join them and do likewise. So here it is in all its glory:

Today: I still have to outline 1 property essay and 1 professional responsibility essay, do one memorization sheet per topic, and try to do about 10 MBEs in each topic.

Saturday: Outline 1 evidence essay and 3 (ha) community property essays, do a memorization sheet from each topic, and try to do another 10 MBEs in each topic.

Sunday: I'm going to do a memorization sheet from each topic (I'm sensing a pattern here...), 10 MBEs per topic, and try to fully write out 3 essays in a row. If the 3 full essays don't happen, I'm not gonna' cry.

Monday: Do the memorization sheet thing, pack, and drive down to San Diego to get to my hotel before check-in, because I'm OCD and am hoping they'll give me a good room if I get there early (not near an elevator shaft, close to ground floor, non-smoking, etc). After checking in, I'm going to wander around the hotel grounds and find which ballroom the exam will be in. Then I'll probably pace around my room until it's time to eat some supper (pasta - it's all about brain food) and then try to occupy myself until it's time to go to bed. I'll probably check out the pool, sauna, and jacuzzi somewhere in there, too.

And that's it. Totally do-able. Those MBEs every day will most likely come from one of those PMBR books, because all the Bar/Bri questions I've marked up to hell and I'd like some fresh and clean questions.

I just can't wait until this whole stupid thing is over with. Okay, back to those 2 essays... Oh and I have to add that I'm so not going to cry if I don't get to the MBEs, either. I've done plenty thus far.

and then anxiety pounced...

So I've been pretty laid back and calm about the exam until last night. I couldn't sleep because I was completely anxiety ridden. And then I woke up 2 hours ahead of schedule to lie awake in bed and be completely overcome with panic.

Anyone else going through the same thing? I mean a couple days ago, I was like 'gee, I wish the test was this week so I could just get it over with...I'm just so tired of studying' and now I'd like another month, thankyouverymuch. Even my stomach is a mess this morning. I just can't shake it off. Augh!

It's called sunscreen, stupid

I thought I'd remedy my cabin fever by studying at the beach for a while this afternoon. I was pretty productive this morning, so I figured I'd just take my memorization sheets and get in some sunny studying. I live about a mile away from the beach, and 'my' beach is usually emptier than those north or south of me. And usually it's fairly nice at the beach, about 70 with a lovely breeze. Well, today, it was the most crowded I'd ever seen it (don't normal people work on a Tuesday afternoon?) and the sand was scorching hot. But I'm getting off the point.

I'm a little OCD (especially right now), so once I got to the beach and started doing my memorization sheets, I told myself I couldn't leave until I finished all the sheets. I went to the beach at 1:00 pm. Doing all my memorization sheets takes about 2 hours. Why I decided to do this during the most cancer-inducing time of day? Well, so I could multitask and TAN at the same time! Brilliant!

*sigh*.

After I got home, I felt so refreshed! Re-energized! Wonderful! It was GREAT! As the evening wore on I started to feel a little HOT. A lot HOT, in fact. It turns out that my studying for the past two months inside has left my skin lilly-white and after a few hours in the lovely Southern California sun, my skin is RADIOACTIVE! So now that I'm slathered in lovely aloe-vera, I'm going to take my nuclear skin to bed.

I have the best friends in the entire world

I'm back to the emotional stage. It all started this morning when I read a contracts essay question and it made me cry. (A contracts essay, for crying out loud.) I managed to keep myse myself together for most of the day, but this evening after a tearful conversation with Husband (who is out of state) I decided to go get myself a bottle of wine and just let it flow.

I got back from my wine run to discover that I have the best friends in the entire world. One friend who is teaching in South Korea for a year sent me a letter with a sticker saying: "I (pic of soda can) DO IT!".

From another friend, I got SEVEN postcards today, ranging from the hysterical to downright sob-inducing. (OK, so maybe I haven't checked the mail for a few days.) In addition to that, this same postcard friend sent me a Charlie & the Chocolate Factory activity book. (I am a HUGE Johnny Depp fan.)

This, this is just over the top. I have been completely reduced to a puddle on the floor. THANK YOU, my friends. You know who you are. And YOU GUYS ROCK.

Carb-O-Gasm, 2005

I know I'm a stress-induced eater, but GOOD LORD I had no idea how much of a stress-induced carb eater I am! It's begining to be a bit ridiculous. I usually eat the majority of my 'naughty' calories between breakfast and lunch, leaving supper for healthier options like salads and soup. This is mostly because if I don't watch myself, I can get truly carried away. If I do feel a pig-out session coming on, I'll just try to drink a ton of water so I feel water-logged or just go brush my teeth and put an end to the chowing down. However, that has all been shot to hell in the past few days.

Take the lunch I just ate, for example. I went into the meal thinking that I would have some mashed potatoes and corn, with some fri-chik*. I ate that, and then decided my ever-growing gut needed more carbs. So I devoured some potato chips (the baked kind). I'm not even a 'chip' kinda' girl - crackers are more my thing, but we're out, and I'm not going to the store. After the chips, I completely lost my head and went a little crazy with the dark chocolate hershey's kisses.

And I place the blame entirely on the California bar exam. Because how can I expect my brain to be in proper working condition unless I feed it properly? So here's to Carb-O-Gasm, 2005: a week of nothing but carbs, carbs, and more carbs.

*Fri-chik is a soy-based meat substitute and comes from this company worthington foods. I HEART it, so I don't want to hear any crap about it and I don't eat real meat. So there.

I've got a mutiny on my hands...

I've been trying to focus for the past 1/2 hour and my mind absolutely, unequivocally REFUSES to comply. Alas, it's apparently in cahoots with my writing hand because that's refusing to cooperate, too.

Even the 'reward' of putting smiley-face stickers on my schedule book (only if I study more than 7 1/4 hours in a day) isn't having much influence. Oh yes, I'm totally reward-based. I say it stems from my childhood when my mom would bribe me with peanut M&Ms to not bite my fingernails. Which perhaps also explains my relationship with peanut M&Ms. (It's more than just junk food, we have a thing. Let it be.)

At this rate, I'm going to be entirely useless the rest of the night. Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to watch TV, which lately has become more of a 'let's just flip through the channels' type of thing because it takes too much work to actually get involved in any particular program. Although oddly enough, I'll catch myself on the home shopping networks. Why? I haven't the slightest. All I know is that if I have to sit here trying to force myself to accomplish anything for ONE MORE MINUTE I'm going to want to take a sharp #2 pencil to the eyes.

Ho hum

So today I don't really care that I'm taking the bar in just over a week. Oh, I'm still studying and all that jazz, but I'm not really freaking out. Of course this is being said before I grade the set of evidence questions I just did. Normally I think I'd be all full of nervous energy and just this side of crazy, but I'm just kind of blah about it today.

Although it could be due to the fact that I went to bed really, really late last night. I wasn't up late because I was studying or doing anything productive, but because I was taking all these fun & silly onlin quizzes. What type of happy bunny am I? The "I hate you so bad" happy bunny. How type A personality am I? A+ (no, I'm not kidding). Oh, I could go on and on...

It's not that I want to be all freaked out for the next week, but I'd like to feel a little more nerves than I presently do. Or maybe I feel cool because I've got it all under control. (HA) I don't know...and this is starting to feel like the ramblings of a very tired mind (when it's only 10:30 am). Off to grade those evidence questions (wherein we hope I score fabulously well so I don't throw myself off my balcony)...

And now I've reached the fragile stage...

Today I completely ran out of toilet paper. I've never run out of toilet paper before in my life. So, I decided to go to the grocery store and stock up on all the food I need for the next week because, well, if you're going for toilet paper you might as well make a whole trip of it.

I was a little worried I might turn homicidal having to deal with so much of the general public when I've been holed up in my apartment, but as it turns out, I was not at all homicidal. Fragile, ABSOLUTELY.

Apparently, I'm so fragile that all the choices completely overwhelmed me. What kind of whole wheat bread do I get? What kind of breakfast cereal? Do I go with the bag of pre-selected oranges or do I pick my own? Do I get the package of 4 tomatoes or do I pick my own? After spending a good 20 minutes trying to track down the mashed potatoes (NOT in the rice/pasta aisle), I thought I was going to have to just sit down in the pasta/rice aisle and burst into tears. I still feel completely emotionally devastated.

And really, who becomes emotionally unraveled at the grocery store? It's just not right. I think I'm going to take a bubble bath and recover.

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UPDATE: the cereal I apparently picked, Honey Bunches of Oats, is not something I'm a fan of. It's a little corn-flakes when I think I was looking for more of a Raisin Bran sort of thing. *sigh*.

How NOT to start your day

Start your day at 5:45 am. Add encounter with the traffic cops at LAX airport. Shake well. Serve chilled with a side of WTF.

LAX traffic is always crazy, what with 35 drivers trying to get right up next to the curb, so I could understand if the traffic cops were, oh, helpful. But they didn't send the helpful traffic cops to LAX. NO. They sent the Angry and Pissed Off Traffic Cops to LAX. WHY? I DON'T KNOW.

I get to the drop-off zone and I see an opening. Of course there's a traffic cop standing between me and the opening, and while I'd really like to take him out with my car, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon might revoke my good character standing with the California state bar. Fantasies aside, this traffic cop uses his index finger and does what for all intents & purposes appears to be a motion for me to move forward. I inch my way forward because, again, I don't want any assault or battery charges against me, and this Angry and Pissed Off Traffic Cop jumps on the front of my car. I immediately start freaking out because this cannot result in anything good. I feel it necessary to point out that at the point he jumped on my car, I WASN'T MOVING. MY CAR WAS NOT IN MOTION.

This Angry and Pissed Off Traffic Cop comes raging around to my side of the car and ORDERS me to roll down my window and then proceeds to CHASTISE me for NOT FOLLOWING HIS ORDERS CORRECTLY. Because obviously he was motioning for me to go LEFT, not forward, where there was a HUGE OPEN SPACE and nobody else gunning for it. Right.

To add to my righteous indignation, even Husband was totally on my side in this and thought that the traffic cop was way out of line. And if Husband was on my side, then you know I didn't do anything wrong! Despite feeling completely vindicated in my anger, I think when Husband flies back I may just tell him to take a cab home (yes, I live that close to LAX).

And now after such excitement, I'm supposed to just calmly pick up the studying and get back to work...just as the fatigue of getting up at the crack of freaking dawn is starting to hit me...

And that's how you feed addictions...

My plan to spend the evening doing my memorization sheets got shot to hell when Husband & I decided to celebrate our 2 year anniversary tonight (a week early), as he's leaving tomorrow for a week and will miss our actual anniversary day. After we had something to eat (& a very lovely red apple martini) we poked into a few stores and this is how you feed my addiction: you suggest that we go into Sephora and Lush. Because this is a good idea.

Let me just say right now that I am ADDICTED to Sephora. Seriously. When I go in there it's like letting a 6 year old loose in a candy store. And as my bank can attest, I rarely make it in there without dropping a small mortgage payment. I've even managed to get my product-free sister into it, which is saying a lot. Although I think maybe she just digs how they gift wrap the stuff you order online. I still consider it a huge success that I've gotten her hooked.

Tonight it wasn't so much Sephora that did me in (surprisingly), but Lush. I absolutely melted into a puddle on the floor. Seriously, it's just not right to take someone who is studying for the bar and under a financial budget into a store designed to make you happy and relaxed and remember that life is beautiful. Fortunately, my brain started working before too much damage was done, but I still made it out the door with bubble bath bars and this fantastic 'smitten' almond/shea butter lotion. Because I need more lotion and bubble bath.

So I think I'm going to slather myself in my new lotion and go to bed.

Thank you, Mr. Cruise

I'd like to give a big shout-out of thanks to Mr. Tom Cruise. Before him, there really wasn't an adequate name to give this stage of studying for the bar exam. Psychopath Stage almost hit the mark, but nothing does it justice like calling it the Tom Cruise Phase. This Phase involves several stages:

1) The Panic Stage: You wake up one morning and are completely panic striken. Not only are you thinking of all the things that can go wrong in the next 2 weeks, but you're obsessing about everything that can possibly happen during the exam itself. You start to hyperventilate while trying to go back to sleep, so you decide to just get up and start studying. You do about 5 minutes of memorization which turns into repeating OHMYGOD I'MNEVERGOINGTOPASS over and over.

2) The 'Are You With Me' Stage: You start to feel foam form at the corners of your mouth. You start to write I'M FREAKED OUT emails to your study pals and find that thankfully, the Tom Cruise Phase has happened to them. You proceed to spend the next few hours feeding the psychosis by swapping "I'm crazier than you are right now" emails with these afflicted study pals.

3) The Mania Stage: Your psychosis is brought home by the fact that your spouse/roommate goes to buy you a bottle of wine at 10:30 am, which you seriously consider cracking open and downing in 2 gulps. But no, MANIA has taken over and you MUSTKEEPSTUDYING, MUSTKEEPSTUDYING.

4) The Stark Raving Mad Stage: This stage jumps in when you receive a sale email from Ann Taylor, and decide to open it because maybe a little shopping will calm you down. You don't care that you are in the middle of outlining an essay, you'll just check it out quick. What then happens can only be described as catastrophic. This little Ann Taylor email completely freezes your computer, so that your essay outline is lost. LOST. IT HAS BEEN RAPTURED AND IS NOT RECOVERABLE. Yes, Ann Taylor is a cheeky bitch for crashing your computer and making you lose your outline. This is the point at which your spouse/roommate may turn to you and say 'you're scaring me'. You may have started jumping on your couch and pounding your fists in the air, although this isn't in the spirit of proving your 'love' isn't just about publicity, it's more along the lines of I'M GOING TO KILL THE BAR EXAMINERS, all the while laughing like you've gone cold-turkey off your meds because it's such a crackpot pseudo-science and is just masking your problems.

5) The Straightjacket Stage: You manage to get yourself slightly back under control enough to keep studying and decide to have a glass of strawberry lemonade instead of wine. You have a few sips and then, in what can only be described as completely debilitating, YOU SPILL THE ENTIRE GLASS OF LEMONADE ALL OVER YOUR STUDY DESK. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You manage to keep your wits long enough to whisk your computer out of the way, but now everything will forevermore reek of strawberry lemonade. Good thing you just bought the 40 quart container of it at Costco, because you'll never again be able to drink it. And another good thing that your study desk is actually the dining room table, which will now forever reek of strawberry lemonade. Thank you, Ikea for making scratch-n-sniff furniture. It's at this point that you start to think that maybe your spouse/roommate has called 911 and that every emergency-vehicle siren you hear is really intended for you and you're going to be taken away, locked up, and highly sedated. And you're not sure that would be such a bad thing.

So THANK YOU, MR. CRUISE. Thanks for giving my lunacy a public face and enabling my spouse/roommate to have such an apt term for this phase of studying!

the joys of apartment life

Is it really necessary for the people living below me to be blasting their music so loud that I could get up and dance to it if I wanted to? And seriously, do they need to sing at the top of their lungs to the music? I realize it's a Saturday morning, but shouldn't they have a little respect for the people who want to sleep past 10:00 am? How about having a little respect for the people STUDYING FOR THE BAR EXAM?

As it gets closer to the bar exam I realize that any patience I might possess in non-bar life is evaporating, but seriously, this is out of control. I mean, what, did they notice that the neighborhood Tourette's birds were absent today and decide to take their place? It's a damned good thing that I'm well versed in criminal law because Husband owns a gun*...and I'm sure a little target practice would do wonders for my general state of mind.

*N.B.: I'm normally a peaceful and non-violent person (except with spiders in my apartment) and usually pretend that Husband doesn't even own a gun. This is just to give you perspective into how studying for the bar turns you into a very warped and angry individual.

the birds

So my apartment is on the 3rd floor and it faces a street lined with alarm-happy cars (a whole 'nother post). There's a tree that's directly in front of my balcony - I could probably climb into it and escape if the fire alarms are ever indicative of a real fire (again, a whole 'nother post). There are these cute little birds that love to sit in this tree, directly in front of my balcony. Cute, sure. Annoying as shit? Absolutely.

It's not that they're chirping or singing about the fact that they're birds and get to sit in the tree all day long. It's that they sound like they've got Tourette's. And it's not just every few seconds, it's like entire chunks of time screaming at the top of their little birdie lungs. I'm not really a violent person, but OMG these birds are driving me stark raving mad. Seriously, I've resorted to sliding open the doors and raging out onto the balcony waving my arms and screaming like a lunatic to get a few minutes of peace.

And as I'm writing this, one has come back and is screaming to his pals to come back. Little shits.

Letter to the people who keep calling my number looking for that business...

Here's the deal, people: that company you keep calling for? They changed their phone number. The phone company (may it rot in hell) gave it to us. Although we asked for the cheapest calling plan, we certainly didn't ask for the company's cast-off number. Be that as it may, there are a few things we need to discuss.

When you call and we don't answer the phone because we know it's you and you hear our very non-business answering machine message, why do you leave a message for so-and-so in the sales department or verifying delivery information? Better yet, why do you start to leave a message, stop in the middle, hang up, and call our number again? You're going to get the same answering machine message.

Those of you who call and hear our non-business message, why do you just let the message run and then hang up, only to call back 3 seconds later and do it again? Do you really think that something will change in those 3 seconds?

Yes, we know you're a very competent phone number dialer and that you checked, double-checked, then re-checked the number and still got us. But things change, people, things change. That's the beauty of recycling phone numbers. Instead of getting an imminently useful "this # is no longer in service" message, you get us. Lucky you.

And those of you who call and are lucky enough to have your call answered, you have a special place in the darkest part of my heart. Initially, I would tell you people that you had the wrong number. We even changed the answering machine message to state that "this is not the number for XYZ company", but you still kept calling and leaving messages. People, we've had this phone number for 14 months. It's time to get with the program. So now when you call, that's why I say "no, this isn't XZY company; they changed their number over a year ago and this number no longer belongs to them."

I know you're hearing is excellent and that you hear me tell you they changed their number, so WHY do you call back again? Do you think I'm lying? I'm not. I'm not even trying to play a practical joke. I'm not even halfway kidding around with you, old pals that we are. And when you call back and we have to go through the whole dance again, do not ask me to look up the number for you. If you're lucky enough to catch me on a good day, I'll tell you ever so sweetly to look in an updated phone book. It is not then a good idea to ask me to look it up for you. I will hang up on you if you do that.

Here's why I don't have time to look up the phone number for you: I am VERY BUSY STUDYING FOR THE BAR EXAM. I do not have time to look things up for you. So people, please, it's been over a year. STOP CALLING MY APARTMENT! I am no longer responsible for what I may say to you over the phone nor what I may do to you if I am able to hunt you down. Please, get yourselves an updated phone book and go on your merry way.

Signs you've been studying for the bar exam...

1. You don't remember when you last shaved...this occurs to you in the middle of working out at the gym.

2. You forget to wear deodorant.

3. You have a vague awareness that your teeth are all starting to feel a bit fuzzy, and can't remember the last time you brushed your teeth.

4. You don't do laundry until you are wearing your last pair of clean underwear.

5. You don't go grocery shopping until you are tired of eating chinese delivery.

6. Your face breaks out like it never had the guts to during puberty.

7. You develop study 'tics' and/or eczema.

8. You start fantasizing about your nightly glass of wine at 10:30 am.

9. Car alarms push you over the edge.

10. The only things you consciously do every 24 hours consist of: studying, eating, peeing, and sleeping.

damn you, study muse

I've finally gotten to a point where I'm feeling really good about criminal law/procedure & so of course, I've lost the ability to focus on it. I just need to write 2 damn essays and 'just checking email' turns into an hour of doing nothing. crap.

Of course it doesn't help that I'm trying to fight off getting sick and just want to curl up on the couch and put on some trashy daytime TV. Although if I'm going to actually get sick, bring it on! Let's get it done & over with so I'm in the clear by test day.

I think what makes this process so ridiculous is that at this point I'm starting to feel like an old hand at this process. Granted, this is only my 3rd time through, but any novelty or nervousness is gone. The first time I think I vibrated the entire 2 months of studying from nerves. The second time I didn't do anything but study - 12 hours a day. This time I've taken a more laid back approach - it's not about how much time I'm spending, but just accomplishing the daily goals.

Which brings me back to those 2 essays that have yet to be written and are mocking me. Time to hustle...

welcome to my world, yadda yadda...

so I think I'm starting to annoy my friends who are out in the 'real' world with the copious amounts of email blatherings I've bombarded them with, so I decided to infect the world instead. Because really, my friends don't have the option of ignoring me but you people who stumble across this can ingore with bliss. And to those of you who choose to get involved, don't say you weren't warned.

I'm taking the bar for the *third* time and as a way of keeping Husband happy, try to get all my venting done elsewhere so he doesn't bear the brunt of it. Poor guy - he has to sit through me bitching and moaning a 3rd time. So perhaps this is an effort to keep the marriage happy.