I've said it before, and I'll say it again: "No more f*cking ABBA!"

The thing is...flashcards are WAY better over beer.

I'm not drunk, I'm pre-funking for the bar exam.

We've got a thing that's callllllllllled...Radar Love.

Only, maybe courthouse love.

I love reading the CL Missed Connections - I don't know why. No one is ever really looking for me (although someone was once looking for a friend of a friend, and when I sent it to her she was like "Oh my God, I remember that guy, he was SOOOOOO creepy" - see rest of this post), but for some reason I like them. I used to like them more until someone posted this big thing once about how now stalkers are using the Missed Connection forum to find the people they are stalking - they pretend they are looking for an old friend, and then one of the person's dumbass friends emails the stalker with all the info...and VOILA...instant stalker gratification. Is nothing sacred anymore?

Are you lookin' at ME?

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

Uh. Yeah. Ms. Spatula? Yeah. This is Jane from your apartment complex? I just...uh...wanted to...uh...let you know that...uh...we were doing a walk-through of the grounds today...and...uh...I need to ask you to get rid of the...uh...trash and...uh...debris on your porch? Well, and...um...I need you to do that...because...uh...well...I would...ummmmm...REALLLLLY hate to have to give you...uh...10-days notice. So. Yeah. If you could...uh...pick up that trash. Yeah.

***************************************************************

Sadly for Jane, I am filled with aggression, have achieved something approximating minimal competence in Landlord-Tenant Law, and have nothing better to do than plan what I will say when I call her back in the morning. They want to give ME 10-days notice? For trash that isn't even f*cking mine? Did anyone on this so-called expedition of the grounds bother to effing look up and see that, HEY GUESS WHAT???, the neighbors DIRECTLY ABOVE ME have about 10 pots balanced precariously on the ledge of their balcony and, HEY GUESS WHAT???, the "trash" and "debris" on my "porch" is actually, HEY GUESS WHAT???, potted plants that seem to have somehow mysteriously fallen RIGHT OUT OF THE F*CKING SKY! Wow!!! It's a MIRACLE!

Needless to say, I was thrilled to come this evening and spend a few of my precious minutes picking up my neighbor's trash. No one bothered to even call and ask if it was mine before making what is essentially a threat over THREE POTTED PLANTS that CLEARLY came from the neighbor's balcony. Jesus! Oh yeah, if I don't make this girl cry tomorrow I will give you a dollar. Really. OK, not really.

In other news, I bought flouride rinse. Dental health is so important, don't you think? It's right up there with penmanship. PENMANSHIP COUNTS DAMNIT! As an aside, thank GOD I can type the bar exam.

Also, watch the Hearsay Video. It will make you happy. Don't forget the sound, or you won't remember the song when you're taking the bar.

I talked to Guacamole Kid tonight. He's doing good, still studying for the bar aboard his boat. He was a little tipsy and I was jealous. He's up there with his family, doing what he loves, studying for the bar knowing that he's still out earning a living, enjoying the beautiful Alaska summer, and drinking beer. That lucky bastard.

I'm reaching panic stage. As in...HOLY CRAP, there is NO WAY I know enough to pass, no way I'm going to learn the rest by next Tuesday, and no way that I can write 24 essays in 2.5 days on all these subjects (most of which I didn't have in school) that I haven't even learned yet, let alone memorized. PANIC PANIC PANIC. Hopefully the flouride rinse will at least keep me from getting a cavity, and maybe I'll get to make someone cry tomorrow. One can dream.

The ratio of people to cake is too big. TOO BIG!

Number of hours spent trying desperately to cram Commercial Paper and Secured Transactions into my head today? 12.

Number of ounces of Diet Coke (yeah, I mean ONLY today!)? 84

Number of times I checked my email? Infinity+1

Number of emails I actually got? 2

Number of times I spelled "County" C-U-N-T-Y in the essays I wrote today? At LEAST 10.

Number of times I got to say "And so, the sheep is collateral then?" today? 1

Number of golden retrievers who ran out in front of my car, causing me to stop, try to call the owners, and then let the dog sit in my car on my lap until finally the owner came down the street looking for the dog and then when I had to give it back I cried and cried? 1

Number of pounds of Mega M&M's I've consumer since Bar/Bri started? 3

Number of red Diet Coke bottle caps I've saved since Bar/Bri started with the intention of entering them into my online Diet Coke account for points towards free merchandise that I don't want and/or need? Probably close to a hundred.

Number of times I've cried since Bar/Bri started? 4

Number of flashcards I've made? Over 12 packages of 3x5 cards

Number of cupcakes eaten this weekend? 2

Number of miles walked this week for pseudo-exercise since I refuse to go to the gym when the weather is actually nice? 17

Number of pterodactyl's seen on late-night walks with friend? 0 (damnit)

Number of bar subjects mastered? 0

Number of bar subjects I think I can bullshit my way through? 4 or maybe 5 (out of 21)

Number of times I've considered just not going to the exam, sleeping through all three days, then telling everyone I took it and failed? Infinity+2

Number of times today I said "I have absolutely no freaking idea" when asked a question about any subject other than Family Law? Every. Single. Time.

OK. I'm done. Must go to sleep. Have to pick up ex-Roomie in the morning to get started early - 8am until ???pm. I can't f*cking wait until this crap is done. My brain doesn't even hurt anymore, it's just totally shut down. 18 substantive essays + 6 PR essays = THE DEVIL.

Name. That. Lobster.!!!!!

I am, for some reason, completely fascinated by this genetic mutation of a lobster found in Maine. Maybe it's my new job in the commercial fishing industry, or maybe I just like creatures that are a little bit odd looking in a "he's got character" way (but not a "is that a bolo tie and top hat he's wearing?" kind of way). Anyway, no lobster, no matter how neat looking, could ever usurp Darwin as this blog's mascot, but I do think this guy is pretty cool.

Let's have a participatory game since I don't have time to blog, but I love checking comments.

NAME THIS LOBSTER! Best name wins...uh...worldwide recognition on my blog which is read, well...not worldwide. But I try.

It's the little things...

Me: patting pockets of jeans and sweatshirt...

Ex-Roomie: "What are you looking for?"

Me: "I'm trying to find my key card so I can go to the bathroom and still get back in the study room."

ER: "Oh...ok."

Me: "Yeah, I promised myself that if I finished this essay I could have a bathroom break, I've had to pee for like the last 20 minutes."

ER: "Nothing like giving yourself a 'reward' that's a real 'indulgence.'"

Me: "God. My life sucks."

I'm OK!

The stories of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Spatula - lost in space.

Be vewy qwiet, we awe hunting wabbits.

Very tired.

Memorized quite a bit of commercial paper today...boo hiss on negotiable instruments.

Went walking with my friend tonight, and another friend, no pterodactyls. I think we were too loud. But, we saw an otter.

Must go to bed. Tomorrow is the last day of Bar/Bri. A blessing and a curse I think...I just want this to be over so I can start working and getting a paycheck and move out of my shithole apartment and live a semi-normal life again. My brain hurts and my emotional craziness is reaching a volume of 11. Or a really loud 10.

An open letter to the douche who stole my Diet Coke...

Dear Douchebag McDoucherson,

You Sir (or Ma'am, but somehow I just know you're a Sir), are a pig-f*cker. I mean, I was pissed the other day when someone (presumably you) stole my lunch, but this really takes the cake. Diet Coke is like liquid gold to me. I guard my daily Diet Coke more closely than the Mexican restaurant across the street from the law school guards its guacamole, which, from the amount they charge for one small scoop, you would think is made out of crushed diamonds or pure coke cut only with angel feathers and the tears of virgins.

I just hate you so much. Due to your total inability to behave like a normal person and quit stealing shit that doesn't belong to you, I am going to be forced to put my bar studies on hold while I plot my revenge. I am going out right now to buy (another) Louisville Slugger, a jar of honey, trashbags, carrots, matches, cod liver oil, sour cream, and handcuffs. And an armadillo. You better watch your back.

XOXOXO

E. Spat.

The dirty weed.

Tonight we went to a bar to study (a bar that is generally not crowded and allows lots of spreading out to do flashcards and drink beer) and there was a softball team there sitting outside that was, ahem, indulging in some outdoor smoking of products that did not seem to be of the "legal" variety. We were sitting near the door to the patio and it was like WAVES of pure, unadulterated weed, washing over us. None of us mentioned it until finally Ex-Roomie was like "Does anyone else smell that?" and we were all like "Oh my GOD!!!"

You gotta love the TVPNM where you can smoke the dope right out on the front patio of a bar that is (from my personal knowledge) frequented by cops. Anyway, in honor of the outdoor celebratory mood, we did CrimLaw/CrimPro flashcards. Yay!

That's my stapler!

Work? No!

Essays? No!

Beer? YES!!!!

New bar? YES!!!!

New fun bar in my new hoped-for neighborhood? YES!!!!

SCREW THE BAR!!!!! YES!!!!!

What just happened?

The practice exam was a little bit like being abducted by aliens (or so I've heard).

I saw a bright light, then I don't remember anything else, and now my ass is really sore.

First things first.

Tomorrow is our first practice test. We have six essays...not quite the 9 per day we'll be having on the real exam, but close enough.

Supposedly we'll be "surprised" at "much we know" that "we don't know we know." Or something.

Eh.

I'm productive!

I had a study session tonight that was actually pretty productive, and I knew A LOT more than I thought I did. SUCCESS! Of course, that doesn't help me in the other 20 subjects, but whatever. Had a long talk with a friend about all the weirdness the bar exam brings out.

Here's some stuff "they" don't tell you about bar review.

1. You WILL start to have every unresolved issue in your life come to the forefront. Self-esteem, spouses, parents, kids, abandonment, self-doubt, dependency, self-abuse...oh yeah. All of 'em.

2. You will spend a lot of time wondering how you actually spent the last six hours and why you don't have anything done.

3. You will comfort yourself in whatever way is the most physically, emotionally and mentally destructive.

4. You will cry because you think your friends hate you because you're sure that some random thing they said was actually directed against you.

5. You will be sure that whatever "bad" things are going on in your life (even ones you never knew or cared about before) will never end or be resolved.

6. You will sometimes eat ice cream in the middle of the night just because if you don't you might die.

7. You will have a dream about whether your boyfriend moving on to your side of the bed in the middle of the night constitutes an easement (this happened to Ex-Roomie, obviously not me).

8. You will have a nightmare that your parents called you up and found the blog and disowned you.

9. You will eat a lot of snacks and/or drink more caffeine than any human heart should be able to handle.

10. You will feel guilty no matter what choice you make.

I'm off to bed. Because I feel guilty about not studying. Or, alternatively I feel guilty about not getting enough sleep which makes me paranoid and weepy and fearful and probably drives my friends bonkers. I might even feel guilty about the fact that I am too tired to read more than one page of the book I've been "reading" for over a month before I fall asleep, face in my pillow suffocation-style, and sleep like the dead until tomorrow morning. When I will feel guilty for hitting snooze too many times, for not blow-drying my hair, for not reading for class, for not making time to flashcard before class, for not going to the gym, for paying more to park so I won't have to walk so far to class, and for eating too many snacks in class to stay awake.

Bar Review Studiers - We Produce More Guilt Before 8am Than Most People Do In A Year!

Happy 3 Weeks Until Bar Exam Starts Day!

I promised myself that today was the cutoff point for getting serious about studying and memorizing and writing essays and all that shit (yeah - no Multiple Choice here - just 18 essays on substantive subjects the first two days, then 6 PR essays the 3rd day).

So, I spent the day catching up on some flashcarding. Then my friend and I killed off a case of beer, I made some Mexican food, we watched beautiful fireworks and I'm going to go to bed and wake up in a new frame of mind tomorrow - a working, serious about my future, not taking this lightly frame of mind.

Shut up. It could happen.

Truer words were never spoken!

This article about the "Seattle Freeze" should be required reading for anyone considering moving here. I'm breaking the TVPNM cone of silence to put this article up because it is EXACTLY what my experience here has been like - EXACTLY! I sent it to Ex-Roomie and she read it, looked across the table at me, and went, "Oh my GOD! I totally thought I was the only one experiencing this - it's exactly true!"

I have lived in about 20 different states/countries and this is the loneliest I have ever been on a consistent basis, and definitely the longest it has ever taken me to make friends. All of my good friends except a couple are transplants like me.

We're sitting here excitedly chattering in the library about how validated we feel, and how we really were starting to think it was us and it's so nice to just know that it's EVERYONE who's not from here! The Seattle Freeze -it's The Suck!!

For the record.

Last night, over beers, the talk turned to post-mortem wishes for our remains. Why? I have no idea. We all talked it over and here's the consensus on my disposition.

I would like to be cremated, mixed with glitter and pink rhinestones, and the sprinkled over Belgium.

Or, alternately, I would like to to be cremated, mixed with glitter and pink rhinestones, and then placed in a hideously guady urn...something that would make Liberace go "Don't you think that's a little much?" Said urn will be placed in M's front yard with a birdbath on top of it.

I tried to get Ex-Roomie and her bf to agree to divide up my ash/glitter/rhinestone mix into tiny little bags, like the sachets you get at weddings, and then have a big party and hand me out to everyone as a party favor, but they weren't going for it.

I pointed out to Ex-Roomie's bf that, in reference to cremation v. burial, "They'd probably stick me in the oven and all you'd hear is WHOOOOOSH! as my beer soaked body went up in flames."

We also discussed that thing where you can get your ashes pressed into a diamond...I guess it's kind of like a CZ or something. Ex-Roomie's bf said they come out really yellow and weird, and Ex-Roomie goes "Why?" My answer? "Because humans are filthy, disgusting creatures!" And I think it's probably true. Because I'm a scientist.

I turned in a graded commercial paper essay today - should be interesting to get it back. I am picturing a hit squad coming to my house and taking me out before I can pollute the legal community with my idiocy.

I was hoping for some Chimay in my Chimay.

Ex-Roomie, her bf, and I decided to try a new bar last night that is across the street from the favorite Chimay-on-tap bar. The new bar ALSO has Chimay on tap (these must be the only two places in the city!), so of course that's what I ordered. Well, when it came, it looked and tasted a little funny. I knew it wasn't Chimay, and I thought it tasted vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. So, Ex-Roomie's bf tasted it and he goes "Oh my God, that's Mac & Jack!" M&J is our local fave microbrew - it's served in every bar and we always get it, so that's why I recognized it. At any rate, the waiter came back and we (tactfully) told him that the Chimay was actually NOT Chimay and suggested maybe the taps were crossed since they were right next to each other (we're not complaining, we're doing a public service). He went back, got a half glass of each and brought them over to the table and it was OBVIOUS just from looking which one was the Chimay - it just LOOKS smooth and sort of creamy - it has a really thick (in consistency) but thin-ish head. So, finally we determine that the bartender is getting married in like 3 days and is just tired and not paying attention. She was really nice and came over and apologized and left all the M&J's, which Ex-Roomie's bf drank happily.

Anyway, I only had two beers last night, but I was a boring rambler for some reason. Ex-Roomie and her bf deserve a medal for putting up with me, I was just all weird and taking a LONG and boring walk down my own memory lane, which of course no one is probably the least bit interested in. I'll pick up the next round in honor of them loosing an entire night of their lives to my inability to shut up.

Today...more flashcard goodness. How exciting.

Lemon bars and toilet bowls and total notes.

P.S. - I had to put this at the top because I totally know you don't read all the way to the end of these long-ish posts - there are still LOTS of unclaimed songs on the Ipod meme - frankly I don't think my music tastes are quite SO obscure that no one has ever heard of these songs!! C'mon - you know you want to show everyone what a musical genius you are! Now, on to the real post...

I cleaned my bathroom today. Finally. And, in semi-related news, I'm making lemon bars. This flurry of activity is directly related to the fact that a couple of my fellow Bar/bri sufferers are coming over this afternoon to sit by my pool and do flashcards. I'm most excited about the lemon bars companionship of my friends. I also got my Super Big Gulp this morning. I haven't been getting them every day like I used to because we sit at these long desk/table things in lecture, and I'm afraid it'll get knocked off and land on someone's head/computer/lap/etc. I've been drinking Diet Coke out of the bottle - OK, I suppose, but not the Super Big Gulp. And, lastly but not leastly, someone stole my lunch out of the office at school and I told ex-Roomie I was "totally going to write a total note" and post it on the fridge. She wrote me back and said "I'd love to see what a 'total note' is"...so, here you go...a total note.

Dear Complete and Utter Waste of Human Life that Stole My Lunch,

I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate coming upstairs after sitting in the library, hunched over my books (because unlike you I actually go to school here, you thieving piece of shit) for hours on end, only find out that instead of buying your own lunch, you stole mine. Assuming that you aren't Robin Hood, and therefore did not steal my lunch in order to give it to those less fortunate than yourself, the only choice I have left is to believe that you somehow mistook the law school procured refrigerator for your local Safeway. What gave it away? The long aisles filled with grocery carts and tasty Keebler treats? The cashiers waiting breathlessly to take your money for the food you purchased and sell you a lotto ticket? The free sample lady handing out tiny pieces of buttered toast?

Oh. Wait. You mean you didn't think the fridge was perhaps a strange tiny mini-mart placed into the law school by grocery loving aliens, sans cashiers and aisles, for you to browse in and sample items from at will? Barring a head injury or a severe mental defect, I just can't imagine what would possess you to steal my lunch. I mean...frankly, I was going to eat it! I (unlike you) went to a grocery store, where a disaffected teenage boy with terrible acne took my money, put my items in a bag, asked half-heartedly if I'd like help out to my car, seemed relieved when I declined, and then went back to talking about Grand Theft Auto with his friend. That took time! That took money! That took patience! Patience that I do not have to deal with people who just steal things from my lunch bag willy-nilly in order to stuff my expensive pita chips right down their filthy gullet, all the while probably laughing at me for being so gullible as to leave my LUNCH in the FRIDGE provided FOR THE EXACT PURPOSE of coddling my lunch softly and safely in its loving arms of cool breeze goodness!

At any rate, you wretched excuse for a human being, I sincerely hope you enjoyed my lunch. If there is any justice in this world, you got food poisoning and are right now crouched behind a bush like a dog, clutching your stomach and praying for death. You are, truly, The Suck.

Go To Hell.

E. Spat.