Enigmatic Female

*Update*Update*Update*

I found out this morning that I passed the NY Bar Exam. I also found out that there was someone on the Today Show holding a sign that said, "I passed the NY Bar Exam." Dork. I moved back to NY the weekend of September 11; back into the apartment I rented with a friend from law school in April; back into the life I felt I put on hold since last summer when I had to return to school. There are some significant upgrades since last summer, such as my totally too sexy boyfriend, Richard. (Some of you may recall some sappy posting from last summer.) I'm still crazy about him. I love my job. I am not 100% about NY, but will keep that to myself for now.

Back to School

There are so many babies up in this piece that we now have a "Lactation Room."

It's Time to Move On, It's Time to Get Going...

As I put law school and the Bar behind me and prepare to start my new life as a working adult next month, I've decided to not post to this website anymore and to focus on other creative projects instead. I've toyed with this several times in the past, but always found one more thing I wanted to share. This time, it's for real. Thanks for reading!

Rejoining the Human Race

The Bar wasn't too bad; I'm still alive, and feeling good about it. Taking the NY Bar in New York City is a singluar experience. It is administered at the Javits Convention Center in what is, perhaps, the ugliest area of NYC, falling between 34th and 39th Streets on 11th Avenue. You know, near the tunnel, near where cabs get repaired, near where they have multiple gas stations in Manhattan? Yeah, not so helpful if one was planning on getting lunch between test sessions. The first day I had a hotdog from a vendor, the second day we had more time, so I hiked around with two friends til we located a slice of pizza---NOT brain food, though, by any means. The shitty location was further emphasized by ugly weather and rain, which is notable since the Convention Center is over 1/2 mile from the nearest subway stop.

When I walked in, there were people EVERYWHERE. I am not sure if many of you can imagine over 4,000 recent law school graduates in one place, but that's what we were dealing with. That is a larger group than my graduating class from the University of Maryland, and almost 4 times the enrollment of Columbia Law School, or coincidentally, my high school. Once we realized what was actually going on, it became apparent that we needed to be in one of several lines where we would wait to exchange our admission pass for a green bracelet...the kind of bracelet you get at a bar crawl or club that you're not supposed to remove if you're 21 and want to drink. We were supposed to leave this neon green bracelet with "NYS BAR EXAM" printed on it for both days, meaning overnight and in the shower. I, not being a fan of this plan, put my bracelet on extra loose and took it off whenever I wanted. I'm so badass.

Walking into the convention hall where we actually sat for the exam was overwhelming. It was divided into thirds; I was in the last third, having registered for the exam a day before registration was due. Most of my other CLS friends were in the first third, having been totally on top of the registration process. There were 50 rows of roughly 18 people per row in my section. That's about 900-1000 people. The other sections were larger. So, imagine an enormous room with three sections of tables at least 50 rows and 10 columns, with two people per table and a fleet of proctors, and that was the exam. The loudspeaker was all "Sunday, SUNDAY, Sunday" as it echoed around the concrete room, and the proctors were a bunch of asshats who had no fucking clue about how much time we had or how to be of any assistance at all. Asshats!

Now that it's all over, I'm becoming human again. I slept well last night, and am about to go to the gym and do laundry today. I'm going to give myself a manicure, shave my legs, and veg out for the rest of the afternoon, followed by a small "The Bar is Now Over" party where I might get belligerently drunk in from of family, friends, and my guy, who is so wonderful that he called me every night I was gone, and sent me a card that was waiting for me when I returned home.

It's Time! It's Time! It's Time!

That's right, folks. Later today I will board a train to ENYCE to take the much hyped NY Bar Exam. My non-immediate family members and neighbors keep asking, "Do you feel ready?" The look all expectant, like I should spout some great wisdom or give some profound answer, or in some way reassure them that I will, indeed, pass this exam. Instead, I have repeatedly told them, "No, I don't feel ready. I should have studied more." They walk away disappointed. I'm hedging my bets, really. I don't "feel" anything just yet. I feel like I know some stuff and hopefully that will be the stuff they decide to test on; if I fail, I'm fucked. So, do I "feel" ready? No. Would I feel ready if I studied for 2 more months? Probably not. It's far too early to know how I feel about it yet. I won't know how I "feel" about it until I'm sitting in the exam and the proctor says, "You may now open your exam booklet." And I like it that way. I like knowing that with my adrenaline rush and severe fear of failure comes nerves of steel and heightened intelligence. (Or so I've told myself repeatedly when I haven't studied enough for exams that I've ended up doing well on.) So, do I "feel"ready? No. But am I ready? I'm ready enough to pass, and you know what? That's good enough for me.

P.S. I'm on my way out the door, but had to take a moment to thank my younger sister for getting me some GUMMY WORMS and JELLY BELLIES to eat during the exam! She rocks! I am afraid I look hopelessly casual for someone taking the Bar tomorrow. I fit everything into a backpack, am wearing cargo khakis and Pumas, and am going to do this entire 3 day NY trip with only ONE pair of SHOES. Egad!

I'm a Planner...

Today I was lamely looking for some outdoor date ideas for this afternoon, and came across www.coolestdates.com. It sounded perfect for what I was looking for, splitting down dates into different types, like Outdoor Dates, Adventurous Dates, Girls' Choice Dates, etc. After looking through a few of the different lists, I realized that this type of dating was not done on the fly, and would likely end our relationship. Here are some of the best worst ideas ever (which would probably end in an actual arrest where I live):

1. Go and shoot your own turkey. Bring it home and clean it and dress it for dinner.

2. Procure large empty boxes from a furniture store.  Using craft paint, paint each others' boxes. Then go to a mall and windowshop wearing the box designed by your date. WTF?

3. Get a police friend to arrest the person you want to ask on a date... (I would print the rest, but this is already way too fucking weird.)

4. Go to a wedding reception of someone you don't know.

5. Tour a mortuary. 

6. Pick up your date and blindfold them. Then drive around for a while so they get really confused. Finally stop in the middle of a large cornfield (WHAT?), and guide them to the middle where you've got a couch and TV set up to watch a scary movie. Your date will love the creativity!

7. Eat cereal by candlelight in an empty parking lot.

8. Go "Goofy Golfing" with a bunch of people. Tie your hands and feet together and golf like that...

9. Visit a local fish hatchery. (I wouldn't even know where to begin.)

10. Plan and carry out a date centered around a certain color. If your car is red, dress up in red, eat red meat, red beans, have cherry pie, etc. on red plates with red punch to drink. You can choose any color.

Length over Girth

I resolved in February to let my hair grow out.  I resolved to grow it for 6 months and see what happened. It's been just under 6 months, and it's not quite as long as I expected it to be by now, but the response has been overwhelming. Critics agree that this length is the best length for my hair. Some critics would do better to keep their opinions to themselves, ahem, dad and nosy next door neighbor? I don't give a flip that you think it looked "too butch" before. You guys aren't exactly the mavens of high fashion that I turn to for style advice, especially since you're so mean. Other, nicer critics, like my mom and sisters, think it's adorable...full and cute and curly. My younger sister thinks I shouldn't grow it any longer, but just leave it how it is now for the foreseeable future. I was almost inclined to agree with her. I have been tempted to get it cut several times in the last month or so when I've felt it's just totally out of control like it was this morning. Luckily I've resisted and made it to a landmark moment: my first ponytail since I got it cut off over 3 years ago. It's a sad, pathetic little tail that perches on top of my head like Pebbles Flintstone's ponytail did, but by God, it's up there and it's keeping my hair out of my face. This little victory has steeled my resolve to keep growing it until I have a real ponytail that can be twisted into a bun, and swishes in the back when I run. I am trusting that somewhere on the great island that is Manhattan, I will find the advances in technology needed to tame the wild beast as it grows. I need a good stylist and some products that will help me win the war on frizz.

Warning: Emotionally Fragile When Stressed

This was one of those mornings where I wake up feeling unstoppable. The sun was shining, I was cozily nested under 2 pleasantly heavy blankets, and I had a smile on my face that is an almost permanent fixture these days. By the time I checked my email, though, I was all kinds of emo. Why, you ask? Well, I don't really know why. I haven't cried in a really long time--not since I read The Notebook and bawled my eyes out for the last 50 pages or so.  Maybe I'm just emotionally overloaded, or stressed out, or PMSing. Whatever it is that causes girls to cry for no good reason was messing with me this morning. When I opened my inbox, there were pictures of my friend Ben's new puppy, and when I opened the first one, the tears welled up. At a PUPPY. You know, a puppy---it's cute, it makes you smile, it's playful and feisty? Yeah, so I choked them back like a champ feeling utterly ridiculous, but am now tempted to just put my head on the desk and let go. The Bar can't be over soon enough.

I was hoping this was gonna be a happy ending...

My friend, D***, called me yesterday. (Some of you may know him from Law Revue, CLS '03.) He asked how studying for the Bar was going, he asked how things were, he seemed edgy. I was ecstatic to hear from him after not talking much this past 9 months or so. I told him how happy I was that he called me, and suspecting the best, asked "So, what's new with you?" And he said, "Well, something is new." At this point I was hoping for the best, which was a wedding, the second-best, which would be a pregnant girlfriend and a wedding, and dreading the worst, which was a breakup from the girl he moved to California to be with at this time last year. He left me hanging for a second and said, "D----- and I are engaged." "CONGRATULATIONS!" I said a bit too loudly and enthusiastically, "How did you do it?" He gave her a secret family recipe printed on a card, and she said, "Uh oh, I'm not supposed to be seeing this, it's only for members of your..." He said her eyes got big, and he kneeled down on one knee, pulled out what I am sure was a gorgeous ring, as he has great taste, and asked her to marry him. And she said YES! They are planning a Fall 2005 wedding, which is apparently going to be the season where I get to see everyone who graduated a year ahead of me getting married :) I am so happy for these two. He said both of their families are delighted that they each locked in the other one. Sweet, no?

One Week Out

The Bar is a week from today, and in the sense that  I know what needs to be done before then, I'm almost ready. Today will be my last day of furious index card production, finishing off with Contracts, Agency/Partnership, Wills/Trusts, and Domestic Relations. This is much more than I've accomplished on any other single day, but I took a bit of a holiday yesterday to realign some of my negative thinking and get back on track. I did laundry and went to the gym, then went out to dinner and had a walk. I feel like a new woman today, ready to take on the rest of this crap. In fact, for the first time in 5 days, I haven't woken up to shooting pain in my arm--a definite sign of improvement. Tomorrow I will work on essay questions all day, Thursday will be MPT day, and the rest of the week will be spent working through multiple choice problems and learning the corresponding law a bit better, hopefully memorizing a good deal. Whenever I have doubts about my readiness, I think about what one of my friends said, "There are a lot of dumb people taking the Bar." Word. My motto is "I won't be in the bottom 20%, I won't be in the bottom 20%, I won't, I won't, I won't, I won't, I won't be in the bottom 20%." (If anyone can tell me what this quote it adapted from, you get a gold star.)

In other news, unrelated to the Bar, last weekend was full of things I didn't write about yet.  First, my dog (she's very old and in not so great health) got bitten by something on Saturday morning on her muzzle, which caused it to swell up so much on the right side that her eye got swollen shut. Her muzzle was like an inch thick. The vet thinks it could have been a spider or something. The poor, pathetic dog!

My two young cousins came to visit that same day and the 14 month old is adorable. I called her a "fish kisser," because she's all about the open mouth kisses. She opens her mouth, like a fish, and leans in for you to kiss her. It's hilarious, but not as funny as what she does when she sees someone else with food. She opens her mouth like a baby bird and stretches out her neck to let you know she'd be interested in whatever you're having. And then later, when we had ice cream, I thought she was going to bite the bowl off the spoon the way she was attacking it. A very funny kid.

Probably the strangest thing that happened was my brother storming around our kitchen and cleaning it. When my dad asked what he was doing, he replied "Cleaning the kitchen. This place is a fucking mess." My brother said that? The one who tracks piles of grass into the house and once had 14 soda cans strewn about his room? Yes, that brother. Then he cleaned his room and did his laundry. A definite Twilight Zone moment.