So, the plans were simple. Post-bar, there would be a party, a day off, a party, a bubbly brunch, and back to SF.

There was a post-bar party - which was great. And a good day off as well. Then on the way to the next party, my car turned wheels up in the middle of the street, at night, with no lights. It was FANtastic, let me tell you. I hoped against hope that it was just a battery thing, but no.

Guess who's the proud owner of a new alternator and battery? THIS girl, right here. Fan-f*cking-tastic.

Brunch was fully of bubbles today, though.

At any rate, I'm going to do my best to get back to San Francisco with all my cylinders intact and then be both efficient and relaxed while I'm there just long enough to get my messy belongings under control and myself packed and down to LA to spend time with the fam before leaving for Europe.

Steve asked if this site gets jettisoned now or after the results come back. I think those are two, too narrow options. Plus, I don't like to think of jettisoning any of my writing. And the net never forgets anyway, so it'd always be cached somewhere (which is very scary, yes). This site will be around for awhile, but I would guess at this point that it will be all but silent except for infrequent law/bar related updates. There may be more Spawn of Phoblog launched soon. Or there might not.

In the meantime, here are some questions I'd love not to answer anymore. Others who have taken the bar or faced similar challenges will understand why I say this. I don't want to be a bitch about it, no slinking off murmuring "I vant to be alone." But I would guess everyone hits these transition points wishing they had a tear-off pad on their chests that would give inquisitors the highlights. Here, then, are the answers to the top 5 questions I don't feel like answering anymore. Because there are no answers:

1.) I felt good about the exam. As good as you can after you block out the MBE. I felt good enough about enough essays and PTs that, should I fail the bar based on my performance on two essays - or even just one essay - I will be crushed because all that hard work and possible accomplishment on the others was for nothing and will mean nothing at all. On the other hand, should I fail outright on many essays and the MBEs, I will be equally crushed because it felt okay and if it felt okay and I got mostly questions that felt strong to me, then what happens when they seem hard. I don't want to fail. I don't want to do it again. So don't ask how it went, because you'll find out when I do, give or take a few days.
2.) I don't have a job and I don't know what I'm doing. I believe I will return to Sacramento and look for work like I used to do, because it made me happy and life is too short and too uncertain to waste time doing what you think you "should" be doing. And yes, I am living in a bubble of my own creation in which I come home and get a job in short order because that's the way it's going to have to work. It just has to. Student loans start coming due in June.
3.) I don't know. I'm going and we'll see. As with points 1 and 2, this is out of my control.
4.) Yes, I'm going for that long. I know it's unnatural for Americans, but seriously, don't you wish we operated that way? I do.
5.) Phoblographer* will still exist. As for this site, it will stay up until the bar process is complete and then we'll figure out what might happen to it next. And, by way of a teaser, in the words of a great old Jedi: there is another . . . .

This is true: 'The law of the sea is finders keepers'.

But not in all countries, mind you. I think it's an excellent summary of the American ideology. In most other countries, what you find in the sea is the queen's or the state's. Here, it's all mine mine mine, just like those seagulls in Finding Nemo.

Fin.

This afternoon's PT assignment was to draft an appellate mediation brief. No big thang. Except the facts were really ungood for our client. So it was an exercise of how well can you bullshit for your client. Hopefully, I can bullshit well enough.

It's all in someone else's hands now.

The only thing I want in my hands is a brandy manhattan. Then a cosmo. Then a beer. Then some more . . . .

Off to chops. And the rest of my life.

Question 4: Civil M'F-ing Procedure! Personal Freakin' Jurisdiction and Res Judicata and Collateral Estoppel. Booyah. My knowledge of nonmutual offensive collateral estoppel buzzwords might still have been inadequate, but all in all, absolute best thing to face first thing this morning.

Question 5: the fabled Contracts/PR crossover. Better than a straight PR question in some regards, but the first contract interog, usually one of my stronger subjects, was a bit of a head-scratcher today. If I lost here, it will be for lack of proper answer organization and a unwarranted bungling of the law. I may have pulled enough out of my ass and tossed in enough headings to salvage. The PR component? Well, despite re-reading those outlines many times, still never really stuck or grasped the best plan of attack with a K crossover. Here, a lawyer represented his client's business legal matters and then contracted with her - maybe - to sell some goods via his independent surplus sales business. The agreement gets all mucked up, he pockets some profits he probably shouldn't have. Discuss. I did, to the best of my abilities. But only time will tell if I'm ethical enough for their purposes.

Question 6: Criminal Procedure with a dash of criminal law (imperfect defense of others - hmm, I didn't use the word "imperfect" come to think of it. And I think it was imperfect, anyway, whatever). Deft assaults and batters a cop arresting his friend. He gets nabbed the next day by cop acting under a precise description from the assaulted officer. She arrests and finds coke in his pocket (the kind in a baggie, not a bottle, natch). Suppressed or in? Then she Mirandizes and he says no lawyer no talkie. He's stuck in a line-up, no counsel present, but THEN is charged. ID in or out? The next day cop re-Mirandizes, gets waiver, and interrogates. He cops to cop beating. In or out? So on parts 1 -3 we got your 4th, 5th, 6th, and 14th Amendments and the exclusionary rule and the exceptions to warrantless searches, etc. Part 4 was whether he got that defense of others thing right. My answer: I don't know, but I filled two grafs with my best guess.

So for those keeping score at home:

Good: Questions 1, 4, and 6; PT 1
On the fence: Questions 2, 5
Icky feeling in the tummy: Question 3, MBEs

The worst thing would be to feel amped now but fail in the end because it means even when things break your way, they don't.

One more session left, nothing to do for it but show up and bring the 1440 game.

Q: What is the sound of one girl winging it?

It's 8:19am. Across the street, they've just opened the doors to the examination hall. I'll leave here in a few minutes, get set up, and breathe deeply until it starts. And then until it finishes.

The rooms in which the exam is administered are the very same in which John Kerry spoke all those conventions ago, before he was the nominee. I remember thinking that I liked him. He was funny enough. He made a joke about his prostate. Gotta love prostate jokes. I thought, yeah, okay, I could back this guy.

The next day, Howard Dean spoke in front of general session and I had found my pony.

I find myself wondering each day if it's a good omen or a bad omen that the test is held where it is. Kerry lost, but overall, I won by leaving school and working for him. Leaving school is what landed me in Sacramento for this particular sitting of the Bar anyway - so I guess there's some kind of circular harmony there. Or something.

That or the room has a loser's aura and we're all doomed. Do they report passage rates by city?

It's 8:22am now. It's time to go. Best case scenario: Civil Procedure (PJxn and/or SMJxn, but no preclusion issues, please); Evidence; Crim Law/Pro (even though I don't feel solid on it). Worst case: CP again, PR on two questions, and Corp because it's the issue I know most thoroughly and thus am least capable of answering in Barese.

8:24am. Almost there . . . .

Law & Order really does help:

Judge: Doesn't res judicata bar this claim?

Cute Girl ADA: No your honor, Mr. Blah blah was not a party to the first action.

Ha! Watch me learn.

I was surprised to wrap up today's afternoon session of the MBE and feel not-exhausted. Don't get me wrong, I was tired, but I think I felt more spent last night than tonight.

But what I do feel tonight is fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.

It came on towards the end of dinner. And then it smacked me upside the head. Hard.

Back at the hotel, I grabbed my stack of outlines and collapsed onto the bed. The subjects ballooned in my hands and suddenly what was a reasonable number of subjects and magic words became an unreasonable amount of stuff I just don't know.

See, I might have lost the game already. That question 3 had a lot of holes in it, I know that. Or the MBEs - they've always been a weakness. I score the same all the time, within a few questions, but that margin could lose it for me too. Or maybe I am passing right now - but I fumble tomorrow. So we don't know what will happen. What's the state of the exams in the box? Too many chips, too many places for them to fall. And suddenly, it seemed insurmountable.

I read over the outlines and things just kept getting worse. Then, I stopped. I didn't stop reading, just stopped panicking. Sort of. Enough. I hate that I can't even even discount what's already been tested. I hate that there will probably be a PR question. I hate that all three of tomorrow's questions could make me feel like question 3. I hate that in a few months, everyone who comes to celebrate with me tomorrow night might know that I didn't pass. I hate that I might know that I didn't pass. I hate that the results come out on the first night of my college reunion. I hate that my boyfriend isn't here. I hate that I am letting myself run on like this when this is, honestly, just another goddamn test that only says anything about me because I'm letting it - because I elected to let it - because I paid them to let it. This isn't me. I was really enjoying being me for the last 8 months or so and I don't like moving away from that standard again.

Phew.

But tomorrow is coming. There are just 3 hours of bad stuff left and then 3 hours of stuff for which I can't study.

So I'll sign off. I hope to look back on this post someday and laugh at myself for being so worried. I hope, I hope, I hope.

I'm going to watch the end of a Law & Order re-run now. Because that's just like studying.

At one point, somewhere around question 158 or so, I looked at my answer sheet and thought, "whoa, lotta Ds there." Then I wondered if there really were that many Ds. I mean, when you're bubbling in the third D in a row it's like, sheesh, another D? What if it isn't a D. I mean, 3 Ds in a row? Why? What if this one is B? But what if this one is D and the last one was A? Crap, that's a lot of Ds. Must not all be correct. I mean, I know they aren't all correct, but still. That's a lot of Ds. Unless it's intentional. They made a bunch of Ds just to mess with our heads.

First thing I hear upon leaving examination room:

Unknown guy to other unknown guy: "Seemed like there were a lot of Ds."
Other unknown guy in response: "Yeah, like in the 150s, just noticed a bunch of Ds."

So that either means I'm okay. Or I'm as fucked as those unknown guys, but just in a similar way.

I HATE the MBE. Seriously, it's such a pile of poo. Not to mention, everytime I bubble in an answer, I wonder if it's the one wrong answer that prevents me from getting to that magic 1440.

I can almost see the dots rearrange themselves to spell out "July" on the answer sheet.

All friends, fans, and non-dangerous stalkers are welcome to join the crew at Chops on Thursday evening. But you really should RSVP if you can (email me), just to be polite to party planners Amanda and Crystal.

My hands are shaking considerably as I type this. Not from fear, just from fatigue. The 50 yard dash that was the last 30 seconds of this afternoon's performance test left my head spinning, my cheeks flushed, and my stomach muscles feeling the lactic burn usually reserved for marathon training. The first day of marathon training.

Now, I'm back where I belong - at PMB, the bar in the lobby of the Sheraton Grand Hotel. I should note here, for later discussion, that the Sheraton has been less than grand in the service department thus far. But I'll be speaking with them prior to the final settling of accounts, I assure you. As one would expect during on a weeknight when the Legislature is in session - it is in session, right - and a thousand ever events are going-on, the lobby here is packed with people who look much more civilized than I do at this point, in my jeans, CMC shirt (Go Stags!) and black fleece. I can't help but look longingly at the smartly dressed young women who look like their doing what I'd rather be doing: that is, not taking the bar, being gainfully employed, rocking the cute spring/transitional fashions, and networking. Soon . . . . soon . . .

Ah - but the part you've been waiting for: so how the hell was today?

Verdict: Good.

My first thought upon reading the task memo for this afternoon's performance test was "dear god, let this be the PR component of the exam." The issue was potential disqualification due to an attorney's alleged violation of the applicable ex parte communication prohibition. I probably should've thrown in a paragraph about that disqualification being either imputed to the rest of the firm or not, but I don't think that will lose me a lot of points - if any. It was a clear set of facts and a clear library of only two cases. In short, it was a walk in Capitol Park compared to the unholy terrors included in BarBri's PT book.

This mornings essays would worry me more if I had any energy left to worry about them. But all-in-all, I can't say that I thought it was horrible. I won't say I think I passed because I'm Catholic and we don't say things like that unless we want to fail. But it could've been much, much worse - and it might still be worse. There's still two days left. And tomorrow is the MBE. It's the final showdown between a blogger and her nemises: 200 poorly constructed, ambiguous, idiotic multiple choice questions. Should be a ball. I'm more concerned about the exhaustive effect of the MBEs on Thursday's performance than I am about the substance of Thursday's questions.

But for now, I've adequately informed you all about the day and now shall return to my brandy manhattan, up (fuck yeah, I'm having A drink, you would too, trust me). There may or may not be a nice dip in the hot tub for me later. And then there's Idol and ice skating (oh if ONLY they were combined). But between now and then, I have to find somewhere in Sacramento to eat dinner that I a) love and b) is least likely to be selected by a significant number of fellow examinees.

Perhaps something in Modesto?

Okay, fair to mild.

Question one: Products liability. My least, uh, good area of torts, but do-able. Probably caught most of what I needed to. Worked in most if not all of the facts.

Question two: Wills? Community Property? Both? Tim divorces Anna. They try to get back together, but don't. He leaves his property to his best friend, Anna. Unbeknownst to Tim, Anna has their extramarital child, Fred. Tim marries Beth. She signs prenup disclaiming all interest in his estate but - ding! - has no advice from counsel before she signs 2 days before the wedding. They have a kid, Sarah. Tim dies leaving $400k CP house and $90k SP cash. Everyone wants stuff, who gets what? We got your pretermitted spouse and kids (and if that's not how that's spelled, bummer for my grader). So there's that question.

Then we get to question three. Three, not so much a magic number today. Real property, landlord/tenent, sublease, an action for waste, a fixtures issue with a subleasee AFTER the lessor is out of the picture, action for ejectment, and a zoning board's refusal to grant a variance that I think was either a Con Law question or my ticket to the July exam. Only time will tell. Or maybe some consensus from a representative number of fellow test takers, with who I don't wish to speak, yet.

Am, in fact, seated in row 1, seat 1, on the edge. Prime real estate. Number 2 is next to me - nice girl, no offensive habits, so that's good. And here we are, back for lunch, sans computer which I was forced to leave there. Phooey. Am typing on a Mac. Difficult.

Time to eat, get ready for PT, and promise of post-exam hot tub.

and wing it.

It can't be over until it gets started. So here goes.

That test is tomorrow, isn't it . . . .

So, here we are. All checked in and ready to . . . sit on the bed contemplating the next move. I should study. Where? I've always enjoyed the lobby bar here. Probably shouldn't be drinking, should I. Could have a Shirley Temple, those are always good. Study down there anyway.

The first thing I saw in the lobby was a sign welcoming the YMCA. Crap, I thought. Fortunately, the Y&G kids checked out today. I love them, but I would've had to kill some, I'm sure.

I asked the bell hop how long I could leave my car in the loading zone out front. He said about 30 minutes because they were expecting two tour buses. Two tour buses full of NBA players, that is. Yup, just me and the Warriors here at the Sheraton Grand. Next week, would've been the Lakers. Bummer.

It's either the lobby bar or Naked Lounge for me now. Can't decide which. This decision shouldn't be that hard. But it is.

There's no Labor Day in Europe, right?

And if not, how do I know when I can wear white?

Everyone's a bookie in the days leading up to the bar. Everyone has looked at the frequency charts, the news, the trends, and everyone has an opinion about what is more or less likely to be on the exam.

This goes double for BarBri instructors, of course. And they all disclaim up one side and down the other, of course. Really, they should keep their mouths shut because no matter how often they say "now this is just a guess," they know their audience is so desperate for ways to pare down the pile of necessary rules they'll jump on any hint of unscientific probability. One of my friends spent most of last week telling me not to spend so much time on Community Property because it just won't be there. It always goes W/T, CP, W/T, CP and summer was CP, see?

No thanks. I don't play like that.

And today, two of my closest friends offered support but not luck because luck has nothing to do with it.

Except, well, doesn't it?

The test is written and printed and waiting to be administered. Whatever is covered is covered. And for some takers, the questions will break in their favor. For others, they won't. So a measure of luck definitely figures into performance.

I've been joking since the start that the only law we know will be there on Tuesday is Murphy's. Whatever subject you hoped against hope wouldn't appear will be there. The monsters will have crawled out from under the hotel bed, followed you to your convention center, and planked themselves onto your exam booklet. But not EVERYONE's soft spot can be tested, can it?

I wonder if everyone's test is different. Not really, no. But, well, see I remember this Twighlight Zone episode where a group of reporters were looking at an airplane. Each one saw a different plane, though. The numbers on the tail were different, etc. I wonder what my plane will look like?

Probably another reason to keep the lip zipped about the substance of the exam after each component.

Well, the question I referred to in the next post down is the worst case scenario.

The worst that can happen during the bar:

-Question 1 is on real property and involves free hold estates. The word "destructability" is in it.

-Question 2 is a Wills/Trusts question with an emphasis on Trustee duties.

-Question 3 is on Community Property.

-The first performance test requires a "case plan."

-Question 4 is a procedural due process question.

-Question 5 is a professional responsibility question that requires knowledge of the differences between ABA Model Rules and Code.

-Question 6 is a defamation question that somehow brings in questions of nuisance, products liability, and the rules governing the admission of character evidence in civil trials.

-Performance Test 2 is another PR related issue requiring some bullshit, unknown task.

So that's as bad as it gets for me. And I can muddle through it.

It would be great if there were some indication of exactly what knowledge we a) are supposed to have or b) are presumed to have.

The SATC way of explaining the point of this post: in the courts, a judge can take judicial notice of notorious facts verifiable by independent, accurate sources. But in the court of life, how do we know what we know?

Two cases in point:

1.) This is what the BarBri essay book says about what the bar examiners expect you to know for professional responsibility questions. I will add snark in blue, where appropriate:

The rules of professional responsibility tested on the California essay exam come from a variety of sources: the ABA Model Rules, the ABA Model Code, the California Rules (partly based on ABA rules, ABA Code, and partly on a prior set of California rules), relevant portions of the California Business and Professions Code, and leading federal and state case law.

Why does the ABA get two bites at this apple, exactly? And the Model Code is so over. Everywhere. Except where it's the basis for California law, apparently. And again, this information begs the question: I'm taking the exam to be licensed in California, no? So what the f*ck do I care what the ABA thinks I should do - or what I should have done 20 years ago under the no-longer-applicable Model Code - when I'm practicing law here? My malpractice insurer will probably require a higher standard to maintain coverage anyway.

The ABA Model Rules represent the modern majority view while the ABA Model Code represents the minority view.

Right, so, why clutter the mind again?

If the question instructs you to apply a specific set of rules, then do so.

Thanks for that.

If you are directed only to discuss "ethical violations," apply the ABA Model Rules, along with any relevant California rules and calse law.

That means, by the way, discuss all rules completely inapplicable in California, rules that might have once been applicable, what's now been deemed applicable, and a bunch of other crap totally irrelevant to the question, but expected so you can make sure PR fulfills it's other acronym-erific role on the exam: Public Relations. Look! I'm ethical. I'm ethical!!! This whole subject area can be boiled down to a simple principle: If you have to ask [you probably shouldn't be doing it]

Unlike the Multistate Professional Responsibility Examination ("MPRE"), you are not responsible for rules governing judicial conduct, although these rules are discussed in your BarBri Professional Responsibility outline.

Why, I almost forgot! Wasn't I already made to take a pricey, bar-mandated standarized test to prove my understanding of professional ethics? And didn't I pass that test? If you answered "yes," you're correct. In fact, you can't be licensed without passing the MPRE. But why let that stop us from showing the word how good'n'ethical we really are. Let's test it on the Bar too - with even less direction and with even more stuff around it to distract us!

Then there's the sample question in the book that begins the interrogatories with "Under the ABA Model Rules and the ABA Code of Professional Responsibility" and ends with "Note: please answer according to California law as well." Grrrrrr.

The inclusion of this subject - and the way in which it is included - makes as much sense as my Hastings PR class, which I took the semester before the ABA released a new set of Model Rules still test me on the about-to-be-irrelevant Rules AND the about-to-matter rules. Fantastic!

2.) Then there was the horror that was July 2003, Question 2 - labeled a Remedies question. After a recitation of facts that implied a property or perhaps contract question with even a hint of tort or criminal law, the call of the question asked what remedies "based on trust theories" might the actors pursue. "Trust theories?" I thought. "Holy sh*t, this is a trusts question?" Always the sound voice of reason and calm, the BarBri commentary offered this helpful advice for handling the question:

Be sure to drink your Ovaltine.

Oh wait, just kidding. That's what the Performance Test guy's advice was. What the book really said was:

This question illustrates the importance of knowing every aspect of the law. While at first glance, resulting and constructive trusts may not seem to be a very popular or recurring bar subject, this question required a detailed knowledge of the area. This bar question reaffirms the need to be prepared in all areas.

OH DOES IT? DOES IT REALLY? SO YOU'RE SAYING ALL I NEED TO KNOW TO BE PREPARED IS EVERYTHING? I mean, c'mon. You wrote this damn book KNOWING that the trusts lecturer wasn't going to cover "Purchase Money Resulting Trusts," etc. I'm not saying I expected you to get every nuance of every conceivable area of testing into us in just a few weeks.

I mean, Jesus Mary and Joseph, who says stuff like that?

Time for me to go mix up some Ovaltine. Down the hatch!

- If they let you bring extra materials into the exam, would everyone's desk look like a church picnic table on bingo night? Am I disadvantaged if I don't have a lucky troll?

- There's a guy over there with a shirt that says "Your retarded." My first thought: that's not the correct form of "your." My second thought: ah, well, that's confirmed.

Roomie B has impeccable taste in bar gifts. She surprised me today with these fabulous DVDs. I didn't even know about these SATC editions. Each of these three is dedicated to a particular topic close to the show's heart: Breakups, Lust, and Romance. Breakups features the classic "The Post-it Always Sticks Twice." Romance has two of my all-time favorite episodes, "Hop, Skip, and a Week" when our Charlotte reunites with Harry and the perfect series finale. B thought the DVDs would be good for post-exam cool-downs. Definitely smart thinking. When I get a job or rob a bank I think I'll buy the big, fancy complete series DVD set.

I didn't start out liking the show. I think I disliked it for two reasons. One, liking it would be akin to laughing out loud at Friends (which is only acceptable for like two episodes of that show, possibly just one - the "moo point" episode because I like the "moo point" joke). Two, the first time I started watching the show regularly was during Season 3 when, let's face it, the girls were pretty repugnant. Okay, that's a strong word, but I didn't find much to like about them during those middle years. Going back to the start and watching the character development, however, led me to love the show. The last few seasons, especially, display more heart and less callousness. And by Season 6, they all look and act their best. The show might also have the best series finale ever. Which I now, as mentioned, have on DVD. Rad!

See, had breakfast again this morning - but regret opting for a new dish over the known winner granola that's carried me through the weeks so far. Won't make that mistake again.

It rained all morning, as I've mentioned, and it even hailed at one point. I felt really bad for this pooch outside. But he weathered the weather just fine. Not sure what kind of dog he was, but he sure was cute.

I started the week in flips and a tank top and ended it in a down vest and scarf.

With the mercury in the basement and hail on the ground, my studies have been much more somber.

Yesterday, in my usual window seat overlooking Carl & Cole, a man collecting his things leaned over and said "the weather makes it easy to daydream, doesn't it." I nodded and turned back to the window.

It's not the weather, of course - though rain certainly does hold one's attention. It's the bar and the promise of things to come.

1.) I don't know all the law.
2.) On Tuesday morning, there will be issues that I don't spot.
3.) On Tuesday morning, there will be issues I do spot that require elements of law that I don't know.
4.) I will initially lock up and panic.
5.) I will regain my composure and choke out a passable answer.
6.) I'm good enough, and smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.
7.) Ditching the review portion of PMBR will not cause me to fail. If I do fail, it was not because of PMBR.
8.) Going to England for four days will not cause me to fail. If I do fail, it was not because I went to England.
9.) If I pass, it will probably be because I went to England.
10.) On Tuesday, it's just me against the music and it's all going to be okay.
11.) The BarBri essay book is shamefully full of typos that interfere with my focus and my retention. I will they would fucking proof-read already. It's not like their writing a blog there.
12.) The MBE questions will read like stereo instructions but without the helpful pictures or the promise of eventual entertainment. At least 34 questions will cause me to say "you bastards," 12 that will induce "fuck you," and 154 that will bring on uncontrolled eye-rolling.
13.) At some point over the 3-day exam, I will fight with a proctor and I will win. Because during big exams, some proctor always pisses me off, and that proctor never wins.
14.) There is an end point.
15.) I have amazing, supportive, caring friends who have been continuously calling to wish me luck, offer drinks, and even bring me really cool presents (Rock on, Roomie B).

My valentine's gift arrived today and was waiting patiently for me to get home from studying. I like the orangey, pink-edged one a lot. And the pale blush in the middle is my favorite. (*can't take credit for the post title - that came from the flower-sender. I'd say "guess the reference" but he'd just beat y'all to it anyway since he has the unfair advantage). There isn't much in the world that isn't made better by the arrival of flowers. And bar study is no exception.

Tonight my mom asked if I was eating. I snorted. Oh, that I were the girl who stopped eating when she was stressed and not the girl that couldn't stop eating when she was stressed . . . . To be fair, however, I have been relatively disciplined lately - especially since my workouts are the one item in my planner consistently not struckout by the end of the day. Staying out of the house helps both productivity and consumption levels: there may be more attractive, high calorie offerings out of the house, but I'm made to pay for it - very disincentivizing.

Metroblogging readers will recall that last spring I lived at Cafe Evolution down the street from my house. It had everything: good menu, free wifi, a sunroom, a lovely backyard, and few customers. Unfortunately, that few-customers part led to its conversion into a vegan raw food restaurant called Cafe Gratitude. I am ungrateful. For the first few years of law school, I lived at Reverie in Cole Valley. Now, however, I have acquired an adverse possessory interest in Crepes on Cole - "a crepery" its tagline so helpfully informs us. It's a sunny, corner storefront that's easily walkable and MUNI-able on two lines. The food is good. On weekdays it isn't that crowded. For the next two days it will be jammed and I'll feel bad about occupying space, but not so bad that I'll leave. I am a good customer. Over the course of 8 or so hours per day - oh yes, e-i-g-h-t, as in one more than 7 and just shy of compete insanity - I buy two meals and two hot drinks. I think that's adequate rent.

For a better understanding, I now present you with a series of still life studies on my days and my, uh, studies.

Monday: Granola And Torts

Tuesday: Basil Crepe And Real Property

Wednesday: Granola And Community Property and Proof of Location

Thursday: Decaf Almond Nonfat Latte and MBEs (note: not at C-on-C)

Friday: Granola And Everything. With Mango!

So there you go Mom, I'm eating. The granola full of necessary fiber, the yogurt is lowfat, organic, and full of helpful active yogurt cultures (if I'm not active myself, at least something in my body is). There's a bunch of fruit in there too: in fact, just because I thought this dish looked pretty, I've now come to like plain yogurt, bananas, blackberries, and raspberries more than I ever thought I would. The crepe has long been a favorite. It's stuffed with fresh basil, tomatoes, sometimes spinach (unless I'm not in the mood), goat cheese (pinch hitting for the usual feta), cheddar cheese, and today, for a treat, bacon.

We don't get to eat the crepe very often for obvious reasons.

So there's my life. It's only been that habitual for about a week. But remember, to be a habit, a behavior does not need to be repeated over a long length of time.

I was forwarded a link to a BBC poll about British attitudes regarding the balance between civil liberties and, uh, not civil liberties and one of the questions was:

7. Last December's conviction of a man for the murder of a City banker John Monckton was the first high profile case in which a defendant's previous bad character had been used against him in court. The change in the law allowing this was hugely controversial among lawyers.

A) A fair trial is not possible if the jury is told about the defendant's previous bad character

B) It is only fair for juries be told of the defendant's record to help them make an informed judgement

My first thought, of course, was, shit, I really need to get those character evidence rules down before Tuesday.

Sacramento's premiere party planners have arranged for a little post-bar Phubar celebration at the appropriately named Chops. If you're in the Sacto area and aren't a completely stalker - or if you are a stalker, but one with a lot of money (kidding, honey!) - stop by!

Email me for the evite (link over at Phoblog). If you're in the Capitol, you really have no reason for not stopping by.

With the last-minute swiftly approaching, it is time to begin the final planning stages for the exam's logistical aspects.

I have my hotel reservation at the lovely, union hotel across from the convention center. Too fancy? Definitely, but hey, I roll in style. And there's no way I was commuting in from the Arden area or wherever the hell the Bar had reserved bar-rate rooms.

Check-in is at 3pm on Monday. I have requested a room by the stairs on a lower floor (in case the elevators get crowded - yes, I sipped a bit of the PT guy's kool-aid). I have also requested a mini-fridge for $25. I'll likely - okay definitely - be paying the $10/day or whatever idiotic rate they charge for net access as well. Parking is a bargain at $13/day or it will be free when I pawn the vehicle off on one of my area friends.

On Monday I'll hit the grocery store for supplies. Milk for the tea I'll bring from home. Bread for the toaster I'll bring from home. Other breakfasty items in case I decide the trek to Fox & Goose is just too far.

Panisi's is across the street from the hotel and the convention center so it'll be yummy sandwiches for me - and for which I will send my sister before the lunch rush. In the evenings, who knows what I feel like doing or eating or if I'll even want to talk or blog at all. American Idol should provide some brain release on Tuesday and Wednesday nights and Veronica Mars on Wednesdays is always something to which I look forward.

I'm really glad I elected to take the exam in Sacramento - not that there was much doubt about that choice. I feel like I have a home field advantage. I can job around the Capitol in the mornings. I know the good bars (where I can't really drink, but at least I know they are there). I know the food. It's a manageable city - everything I need, including some really close friends, are within walking distance of the hotel and the exam. If I were in Oakland, I wouldn't know anywhere to go for food and would be stuck with the herd, which can't be good. In LA, even though it is a literal hometown, I'm sure it would be the same. No, Sacramento is the best for me. I'm usually happiest there generally anyway.

I have to think about packing on Sunday night. Packing for almost a week too since I get there on Monday, test Tuesday through Thursday, party Thursday night, hair cut on Friday afternoon, party on Saturday night, and hit Ink's bubbly brunch on Sunday (because for my money, there is nothing better than a mimosa-filled Sunday Sacramento Brunch. It's just our thing). That's a long time to be away from home. Nothing compared to what's ahead, but for my current state of mind, it's a lot to consider.

For now, it's back to the MBEs I'm slowly plodding through today.

Today is a down day of sorts. I've run all the subjects now - triaged the strengths and weaknesses and familiarized myself with a lot of format and vocabulary trip wires that I don't want to kill me on game day(s).

This afternoon will be some extra remedial attention to Community Property and Wills/Trusts before Bar Boot Camp this weekend - drilling 4 subjects a day, just trying to get the magic words to stay put in my head long enough. I know there are some areas that won't be mastered. So the goal between now and then is to make sure if I face them on Tuesday or Thursday, I stay calm and work through them. In most cases, even if you get the specific rule wrong or can't remember in your head, you can get there the longer way - which I hope just costs time and not points. Hard to tell for sure though. There's a lot that gets lost along the way right now. All the dishes are spinning over my head, some will break, but as long as 65% stay up, I'm fine.

It's a strange sort of euphoria here in the homestretch: the thrill of seeing the light and no longer caring that it is, in fact, an on-coming train.

As my 7th grade band instructor, Mr. Mitchell, used to say: Kick it . . . .

It's an odd and probably unrealistic idea to think that the 4 full days I have left are adequate time in which to commit to memory the whole of as-yet unlearned law in 12 discrete yet intertwined areas of law.

But 4 full days I have, and the odd idea must be true.

Random grammatical thought of the day: that comma in the above sentence bothers me. I don't think it is correctly used or placed, but I can never remember the rules for commas and "ands."

Horrible realization of the day: bloody hell, did I just type "4 full days?" Is it really only four full days. Some hand me a paper bag please. Oh my god . . . .

Pillow Fight!!

Following Amber's lead, in lieu of valentines - which I still love, for the record, I too will accept adjectives via this little personality typer thingy.

I fear it will only prove how few readers I have, but who knows, maybe some of you will come out of the wood work. I bet this belongs on Phoblog where there might be more readers. Is cross-posting this too self-centered? Only one way to find out!

The loveliness of Paris
Seems somehow sadly gay
The glory that was Rome
Is of another day
I've been terribly alone
And forgotten in Manhattan
I'm going home to my city by the bay.

I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill, it calls to me.
To be where little cable cars
Climb halfway to the stars!
The morning fog may chill the air
I don't care!
My love waits there in San Francisco
Above the blue and windy sea
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
Your golden sun will shine for me.

Take a moment and check out this photo set from Derek Powazek. He's a blogger (sometimes) on the Metblog and I really enjoy his photography. All dogs are, by nature, as expressive as his Bug. But how many people can really catch their dogs most compelling moments? I can never grab Patches at her best. Thes photos of Bug at the beach make me happy.

So, under this set of facts, did Dick Cheney breach the duty owed to fellow hunters?

Vice President Dick Cheney apparently broke the No. 1 rule of hunting: Be sure of what you're shooting at. He also violated Texas game law by failing to buy a hunting stamp.

Cheney wounded fellow hunter Harry Whittington in the face, neck and chest Saturday, apparently because he didn't see Whittington approaching as he fired on a covey of quail in Texas.

Did he fail to act as would a reasonable hunter? Does his failure to buy a hunting stamp as required by Texas game law give rise to negligence per se or was the purpose of the statute something other than protecting people from bad hunters?

Defenses?

Hunting safety experts interviewed Monday agreed it would have been a good idea for Whittington to announce himself — something he apparently didn't do, according to a witness. But they stressed that the shooter is responsible for avoiding other people.

Ah, was Whittington contributorily negligent? Does Texas follow contributory or comparative negligence? If comparative, pure or not? Perhaps he assumed the risk just by engaging in this - uh-oh, strict liability? - inherently dangerous activity? No, no TNT, nucular waste, or captive bears here.

And with all that talk in the article about comments to the press, etc, are there any defamation issues? Invasion of privacy? Public disclosure of private facts? No, not on the facts presented, and anyway, there is a fairly strong case for Cheney being a public figure and since the alleged publication or publicity would have occured in a newspaper, that's NYT Malice, so not much hope there.

Oh! Oh! And then the article goes on to bring in some cops. Any crim law issues? Crim pro issues? How about jurisdictional conflicts? Con law? Civ Pro? There's a statement towards the end made to the Dallas Morning News that Cheney is a great shot and safety conscious? If Cheney wanted that statement admitted, could he? At what point? And for what purpose?

[Insert Howard Dean yell here]

So when there is absolutely, positively, no factual support for making a legal argument or throwing down some elements you should definitely discuss it? But when there's some factual support, you should manage your time better and ignore it?

WTF.

Pressing past gnawing pangs of liberal guilt, I weighed my opportunity costs this morning the scales tipped toward paying for clean clothes with money alone instead of the usual money/time combination. And can I just say - fabulous! Not only did I not have to babysit the loads of laundry, scrounge for quarters, lug soap, run back to the house after forgetting dryer sheets, etc, but the laundry came back in those cute little blue paper packages and - get this - the laundry was folded! I know! I don't even fold my laundry. It was nuts.

I'll admit my control freaky side was a bit concerned entrusting laundry to someone else's loading and temperature selection skills, but nothing seems faded, it all seems in good shape, and though it's not Snuggle-y soft, it's soft and pleasantly scented enough. My mom will be pleased to read that I think with this farmed out work, the rest can just wait until I'm back in LA.

And in other news: A while back I mentioned that I scored an A+ in Maritime Law. As I found out later that evening, my A+ was, in fact, the highest grade in the class. Due to some endowment or another, the highest grade in Maritime Law is awared a cash-money prize. And a big one at that. Four-digits big.

Guess how much I'll see of it?

Ha! None!

Yes, kids, in a turn of events I was, to be frank, completely expecting though hoping against hope against, it was confirmed to me today that that blood-sucking, bastard leach of a law school/federal government is going to go ahead and just ship that prize back to my loan lender since, apparently, it's institutional aid. Motherfucker! I KNEW those dreams of a fabulous, slightly less financially irresponsible European vacation were too good to be true! I'd be even more bummed about this were I not sitting for the bar in 1 week, 14 hours. And, I suppose, if I'd really tried to win the award to start. I swear to god, this law school thing was so not worth it. None. From my point of view, who gives a SHIT when an extra $X,000 is paid off? Please, like I'm not going to choke on that amount in interest alone anyway.

So now we're back to plan A: who wants to buy my car.

I feel poor.

Again.

Where's my BMW and my job? Where? WHERE?!?!?!!?

Actually, that doesn't really deserve a ! but it gets one because that's the convention.

Yesterday, I received by admittance card from the State Bar of California. As I may have mentioned before, thanks to the urging of my friends Steve and Cheryl and my lightening fast 'net skillz, I am the February 2006 California Bar Examination Applicant #1. In the whole state. So I should get the front, corner seat in the exam room, from what I understand.

And of course, the admittance card repeats the happy news about the results release date.

Even more fun, though, is the information bulletin. We have to be there by 8:30. There are name badges. We can't bring our computer bags (yes, bring that computer, don't mitigate the risk of highly foreseeable harm, and there's no tech support). Passing score is 1440. The following items are allowed in the test center: analog watches and clocks not measuring any larger than 4x4, back support, up to two pillows without cases, pens, pencils, erasers, paper clips, rulers, highlighters (for use on questions only), one book stand, one foot stool, one mouse pad, splints, inhalers, crutches, wheelchairs, casts, hearing aids, TENS units [what is that?], eyeglasses, ear plugs or plastic material normally associated with the sport of swimming [like a snorkel?], medicine, feminine hygiene items, and wallets.

Okay, all of that is predictable - but the bulletin goes on to say "small plastic bags will be provided for carrying prescriptions, medication, hygiene items (i.e. eye solution and feminine necessities [thanks for spelling that out]) and other necessities into the examining area.

So, what you're saying is, on test day, I get to juggle my highly fragile laptop, power source, A: Drive, pencils, pens, highlighters, etc, etc, and once I GET THERE you'll give me a baggie? Thank god I'm staying at the Sheraton (hey kids - guess who will be in the bar at 5pm everyday eating breadsticks and yearning for a brandy manhattan? THIS girl, right here).

I can feel a sudden case of OCD coming on as I spend next Sunday and Monday methodically going over the list of things I'll need for the exam. I predict I will check to make sure I packed my disk drive no fewer than 8 thousand times.

***

Tomorrow is Monday. Tomorrow I will go to the grocery store at 7:30am. I will shark parking at 8:30am. I will park at 8:56am. I will do laundry and a practice exam. I will review Contracts and Crim. I will finish reviewing the pile of incorrect answers from this morning's 7:00am 100 MBE set. I will run. Maybe. I will panic. Definitely. I will marvel that it is February 13. I will become queasy immediately when my eyes open to 8 full days before exam day - 7 days if you factor in the travel time on the 20th.

Seven days. 7. As in, one fewer than 8. As in, 14 fewer than I'd like. But that's always how it is, isn't it.

***

Yesterday morning, 3 blawgers had baked goods outside the Beanery. One blawger said he wasn't worried about passing the bar when I comes time for him to take it. He was, rather, worried that he'd lack the discipline to study enough. I can understand how he sees a distinction at this point. I predict he will learn the following by the time his turn comes:

1) We all worry about and then kick ourselves for our lack of dedicated preparation. Of course it's 3/5 motivation.

2) We worry about not studying enough, not our inability to pass the exam per se, because none of us actually believe we aren't smart - despite what law school has thrown at us. We aren't idiots.

3) He will substantively worry about passing the exam as soon as he really, truly understands that it isn't about what he knows, but whether he can learn yet another new language in 10 or 12 short weeks. He will worry, he will deny it, he will accept it, then he will block it out.

***

I'm scared. Partly for the examine. Mostly for what I'm afraid comes after it.

[crossposted]

A story so amusing it's hard to know where to blog it: A teeny LA city that's had the same council forever, votes to cancel elections every 4 years, and may have authorized some highly, highly suspect action against would be candidates.

Amusing. Kinda. But really - does this work?

There are fewer than 60 registered voters in Vernon, and almost all are either city employees or related to a city official. All five council members have served at least 30 years in office.

"It's kind of a fiefdom," said Philip Reavis, 65, a former Vernon Chamber of Commerce president who ran for office in the city's last contested election — in 1980. "This place is a little anomaly that exists, kind of by accident. In the whole state of California, there's nothing like it."

In the 1980 election, as in this year's, Vernon officials sought to disqualify a candidate by evicting him.

By strictly limiting who can live in the city, Vernon officials handpick their constituents, said Roy Ulrich, a lawyer and former Vernon property owner who has clashed with city officials. "They only allow people who are city employees. Anything that smells like residential property, they disallow."

Seriously, though, if you issue spot this article you get: Con Law, Professional Responsibility, Property, more likely than not some torts, Remedies, and eventually there'd be Evidence also. Jackpot!

After a semi-discouraging set of MBEs, during which I almost jumped out my window in frustration over my inability to divine what in the hell the people writing the questions were thinking the answers should be because the law sure wasn't going to get me to the right answer, I stumbled downstairs to the comfort of my couch, the Olympics, and a cup of tea.

I grabbed a fortune cookie left over from the other night's take-out on the way to the tube, hoping for some good news. This is what I got:


I was initially thrilled, of course. Ah, the universe was giving me a sign. See, it's going to be okay.

But then I understood the message the universe really conveyed.

Do you know what the universe was telling me with that fortune: stop assuming shit on your first-read through, you foolish, bar-failing, conclusory moron. I'll show what I'm capable of, eh? Well, yeah, but that better not be a straight run of 55s and a 128 on the MBE. Dammit! A little help here cosmos, that's all I'm saying . . . .

Perhaps the handy learn Chinese vocabulary lesson on the back tips the scraps overall worth toward "good" and away from "snarkily telling."


We'll know in a few days. And then a few months.

Good-ish news of the day: received confirmation of ability to sit for the bar (ie: Hastings has let the bar-peeps know I completed law school, which would also be circumstantial evidence that I did, in fact, complete law school).

Bad-ish news of the day: the bar will be, as feared, released at 6:00pm on the evening of May 19, 2006.

That would also be the first evening of my five-year CMC (Go Stags!) reunion.

Like the pressure of being unmarried, unemployed, and generally unchanged since college wasn't enough. No wait, I am changed - I'm cuter. Note to self: this is even more motivation to over-compensate by upping the work outs.

Ready, set, starve.

Oh my god, in about 10 days I take the bar. In 13 days I'll be done. With everything. With all the plans I've laid up to this point. Schooling complete. Regardless of bar passage, the plans end here.

So what comes next?

I'm not positive, but I am fairly sure it involves standing in the rotunda with a ream's worth of resumes. Or standing somewhere else. We shall see . . . .

Like this one: Will Work for Favorable Dicta.

Catchy name - always worth points. Nice green layout - we love that! And author Energy Spatula not only has one helluva backstory (well, she has one helluva backstory, but I am assuming she has many backstories, one is just particularly sensational), but she has an open, easy writing style that I find accessible, satisfying, and just plain good.

I don't know her. But I like her.

As the sidebar says, I'm a reluctant blawger. Blogging, no problem. Getting involved in the incredibly self-centered, woe-is-us, one trick pony world that is more blawging - eh. Not so much my bag, though clearly that hasn't stopped me from bitching up a storm about the exam.

Amber has sometimes linked to opinionistas.com which recently Blachmaned itself out to the world as yet another anonymous creation of a struggling associate angling for a book deal (aren't we all). Of course, as with AnonLawyer and James Frey - once we know there's no true story on which anything is based . . . . well, just not the same anymore, is it. If it were, I would also have a book deal and an NYT profile by now.

I navigated over to Opinionista's site this evening and discovered a post about The Associate Who Spent A Year Reminding The Partners About Her Sister's Wedding And Was Told There'd Be No Problem But Who Got Screwed When She Went After Her Deal Didn't Close In Time And Ended Up Leaving The Firm. You may recall the story from 'round the campfire as a child - usually told between The One About The Bloody Hook On The Car Door Handle and The One About The Pop Rocks And Pepsi.

A) Urban Associate Myth.

B) Even if it is based in fact, which I'm sure it is, I refuse to feel bad about situations like this one. Oh, how unfair, right?

No, what's unfair is the generations of associates who allowed the application of this kind of thinking. The thinking that makes the taking of contractually provided vacation days tantamount to openly napping on one's desk or openly mocking clients' fashion choices.

The principle extends far beyond the legal world, of course. But it's true regardless of the field. If you let your boss think that absolutely nothing in the world can reasonably be considered more important than your job, then you should be suprised when that's exactly how you get treated. Who lets themselves be handled in such a way?

Not the the partners are much better - having been subjected to the same crap, they claim their birthright to demanding souls from their own associates. They act a bit like I imagine I would act if I'm ever given the chance to be a 7th grade gym teacher (then they'll all pay - ha!).

But really, who hasn't heard this story? And I just can't get worked up over it. It's a bed of each associate's own making. I find it hard to respect the needs of people who clearly disrespect civilization and its bounty.

What a waste of pixels.

Misvalued House Causes Ind. Budget Woes:

A house erroneously valued at $400 million is being blamed for budget shortfalls and possible layoffs in municipalities and school districts in northwest Indiana.

An outside user of Porter County's computer system may have triggered the mess by accidentally changing the value of the Valparaiso house, said Sharon Lippens, director of the county's information technologies and service department. The house had been valued at $121,900 before the glitch.

County Treasurer Jim Murphy said the home usually carried about $1,500 in property taxes; this year, it was billed $8 million. . . .

Officials struggled to figure out how the mistake got into the system and how it could have been prevented

Might I suggest reading? Thinking? Attention to common sense?

A lack of standing leads to many problems, like a loss of feeling in my ass for too many hours in chair in front of the computer.

And my feeble attempts to get back in the habit of lifting a few times a week, in addition to the above mentioned excessive hours typing, has left me with too noodles flapping from my shoulders.

Who knew the bar was such a physically intensive sport. I knew I should've footed for a trainer.

Remember the joy of first learning about the Constitution? The fun of rattling off the Amendments?

Okay, fine, pretend you're a government nerd. With me?

Anyway - recall the simple pleasure of knowing the chapter and verse for ex post factor and bill of attainder prohibitions? When you first mastered the spelling of habeas corpus?

Then you go to law school and realize the brilliant simplicity and thoroughness of our founding document has been ruined by arbitrary, multi-pronged "tests," none of which have any, dare I say, rational basis other than "crap, how do we solve this problem, let's just make something up."

There's only so long a girl can drill on various levels of scrutiny without weeping for the futility of it all.

After what's left of today, I have 11 days until the exam. This would stress me out more if I weren't so damn eager to get past this bullshit.

While talking to my friend Amanda, who passed the bar this past July, during the Superbowl, I made the off-handed comment that regardless of the outcome, I'm only doing this once. She asked if that were really true - if I don't pass, would I really not try again.

This is the way I look at it right now, for the sake of sanity:

You hear the marathon analogy a lot while studying for the bar. That may be true for the preparation, but the actual event is very much a sprint. Or a triathalon. You go go go on the specific tasks and it's over. What go me through the marathon itself was the thought that each mile marker I passed was the last time I ever had to pass it if I wanted to. I knew that if I crossed the finish line, I never had to run single mile more if I didn't want to. Just get through it and never do it again.

I'm currently looking at my next marathon, by the way, but I think marathons are exponentially more valuable than the bar exam.

My point is this: to get out of bed in the morning, I have to look at February 23 as The End of all things law school related for me.

The past 3 and a half years have been among the most challenging of my life. Not because of law school per se, but because of everything that went along with it as I struggled - as all law students should and do struggle - to carve out a life from what was left of my time. Much of the rest of my life constituted a strong, unavoidable pull away from my legal studies. None of them strong enough. (And you can read that last sentence in 2 very distinct ways).

I'm so ready to put this behind me I can barely articulate it - these efforts notwithstanding. Maybe I'll end up practicing. These days, immigration law seems pretty relevent and appealing. Maybe I won't.

Win or lose, this is the only bar exam I'll take. The only one.

Never again.*

A bunch of kids injured by a bike sold by WalMart brought a products liability suit. WalMart defends that the injuries were caused by bad assembly or neglgect by the kids/parents. They even gave the jury a brand new bike of the same kind questioned so the jury could examine the quick-release latch at issues. Jurors examine wheel mechanism -- and it reportedly breaks off.

[insert howls of laughter here.]

Parents Protest Child's Spelling Bee Loss - and of course, they are threatening litigation. Because this is America and that's what we do.

Tonights episode of Scrubs featured the BBD classic "Poison." I still remembered every word.

I need more law spoofs of popular songs. Clearly, the musical thing works for me.

I need more of this or even just this.

My friends Josh (Go Stags!) and Marisa (Go Athenas!) are having one helluva fantastic roadtrip or so it sounds from Marisa's latest installment describing their adventures. After Josh's release from the Army (served in Hawaii, poor thing), they're taking some well-deserved time off on a multi-month drive through Mexico. I salute them as another example of Americans doing vacations right.

Sometimes reading about people having fun relaxes me, sometimes it makes me frantic. Today, I'm relaxed.

Ish.

I'm working on a practice performance test - a woefully neglected area of preparation thus far.

This particular problem involes the application of the dreaded Rule Against Perpetuities (which has never really scared me as much as it seems to scare everyone else). In the materials, we're instructed to analyze a set of facts under the recently adopted Uniform Rule Against Perpetuities - or USRAP for short.

We are also to analyze the facts under the previous common law RAP in the fictionalized state of Columbia which I have been shorthanded as "C" in my outline of the answer.

Meaning that the previous, state common law Columbia RAP becomes . . . CRAP.

Hey, I just call 'em as I see 'em.

For those who call and what to know what I've been doing that day. Here it is. Everything I do takes up about this much space. It's about this interesting. And it's about this organized and efficient with an equally interesting view.

(If only my essays could be so well organized.)