Clearing the Bar

Crisis averted! I'm alive and well. PTL and thank you Jesus!

Blankity Blank

Well, I'm out.

The test was three blurry days, blurred into one blurry haze. Punctuated with bad homemade sandwiches, a fried egg slapped on wheat bread. A handful of almonds.

And a lot of sweaty biking to and fro from the test site.

And some short excerpts from Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, to help me sleep at night. (Love that book! Good writing!)

And horribly bad breath from dehydration. Can't waste precious test time on trips to the bathroom!

I definitely didn't do the level of work I wanted to. I definitely missed at least one big chunk of points in my last performance test. I definitely guessed on more than half of my multiple-choice questions.

So, it's kind of a crapshoot.

And now the prophecy is true: the worst part of the bar is the time between now and November 21 when the results get posted.

Passively waiting is the hardest thing to do. I imagine this must be what the cancer patient feels like, waiting for his biopsy results. Or the defendant waiting for the jury verdict. Except of course there's less on the line.

But now I have to face "real life" again. And I found myself completely unable to orient myself to life without the bar.

It's like a mild exam-version of the Stockholm Syndrome. Afterall, the bar has held me captive for over 2 months now. We had a symbiotic relationship. The bar told me what to do everyday for hours at a time. The bar flooded my mind, my dreams, my every waking moment.

How do I live without it? Who am I without the bar? What do I do now? It's too overwhelming. I have no more excuses to not live responsibly.

Is this how newly released prisoners feel like? No wonder they deliberately commit a crime to get thrown back in. Life on the outside is too strange.

So far I'm coping the only way I know how: endless reruns of Project Runway on my tivo.

Aufwiederzehn.

Ambivalent

I'll never forget learning the meaning of "ambivalent" in junior high. Or was it elementary school? Or was it high school?

Ok, so I forgot the context of learning the word, but I remember the actual learning part!

It was memorable because it was the first time a vocab lesson cleared up a major misconception for me. Amibvalent does not mean (what I thought it did) that you're like, "eh, whatever, I don't care about the outcome either way, I'm ambivalent"

It means you feel *very* strongly about both opposite points of the spectrum. Like when a guy has to choose between a blonde and a cute brunette. Who do I marry? On one hand, Cindy is so cute and blonde and perky. But on the other hand, Lisa is so mature, and proper, and brunette.

Well I'm ambivalent about taking the bar. On one hand, it's like YES! GET IT OVER WITH! BREATH AGAIN! LIVE AGAIN! LOVE AGAIN! LAUGH AGAIN!

And on the other hand, it's like, no, please, no, please please don't make me go through with this...

But then again, I would really really really LOVE to get this over with.

But then again, I would really really really LOVE to have more time to study...

The End is Near

And it's time to get HARD CORE.

I mean really hard core.

I've disabled my internet AND
deleted solitaire from microsoft games!

Now every. Hour. Counts.

Unfortunately I wasted a half hour perusing the previous years' exam subjects, trying to figure out which subjects I might be able to "skip" studying. Risky, but it's a risk I just may have to take...

Community Property was tested the last two times in a row, probably won't pop up for my exam, right?

It's triage time baby.

Fear Itself

I'm realizing now that by far the most important aspect of the bar exam is psychology.

And I think I'm losing that mind game.

I'm a pessimist, a worst-case-scenario kind of person. Aren't all lawyers?

The old joke the profs told us in lawschool was: Why are you all not in business school?

Ans: Because you're risk averse!

And there is a lot of truth to that, at least in my case. I am uber-uber-risk averse. I seriously *feel* in my gut that I'm failing when I get below 85%. Michael rolls his eyes everytime I predict gloom and doom because time and again, the event passes with such wide margins of error, you could drive a semi through it.

But still...the mind plays games on you.

After all, I barely passed the MPRE.

And I keep failing those damn BarBri essays.

And people do fail...even those from great lawschools, like the former Dean of Stanford.

Because ultimately, it's not a test of intelligence, but a test of guts. How well can you control The Fear?

I have half a mind to check into a meditation clinic the last week before the exam and learn some deep-breathing and visualization techniques. Who needs to know the finer points of law when a mind-freeze could blow everything?

Our last BarBri lecturer told us to practice visualization exercises:

"Imagine you're having dinner, watching some tv. You go to bed, you're nervous and can't fall asleep...but eventually you do. You wake up refreshed, you go to the testing site, etc."

I'm not sure this technique is so great for me. As I start visualizing, my heart beats really fast and my stomach clenches, and I have to pull the plug on this mind experiment before I get a full on panic attack! Not the kind of behavioral reinforcement I want to create!

How do you deal with fear?

Hellathon Week 5.9: All by my lonesome

Tonight my every-loving husband is going to be here, at the local community center ping-pong tournament.

I'll be home. Alone. On a Friday night. Studying. [cue the violins]

That's one of the worst things about this whole bar study experience, the solitude. Although there are at least 50 people in my classes every night, they don't know me from Adam. But they all know each other!

During break times I cast around forlornly, looking for a kind soul to befriend, but so far I've only made a couple abortive attempts.

First there was Bridget, a skinny trendy white girl who seemed alarmed when I accidently blurted out, "Where do you live?" I guess that's kind of a creepy question to ask someone you just met 2 seconds ago. After that botched intro, she proceeded to take a seat far far away from me in the waaaay back of class.

Next there was Mike, a slightly chubby white guy with a full beard and a friendly smile. We made polite chit-chat and then I too eagerly started grilling him about his Barbri experience. How many hours do you study? How are you memorizing your outlines? Did you pass the graded essay?

I think he thinks I'm really lame (for good reason) and doesn't say 'hi' to me anymore.

Everyone else I just can't seem to get any traction with. A smile, some eye-contact--it always get slapped away with a frown. Sheesh people, whatever happened to being friendly?!

So now I'm a total loner, which is probably the hardest part of this whole horrid experience. I can't compare notes, feel reassurance from others' literal and moral failures, or even commiserate with the only people who truly know the special kind of pain that is Barbri.

But it does make me grateful for my number one friend, Michael. Except when he abandons me for the love of the sport. Sigh.

Hellathon Week 5: Bitterness and Gall

I'm entering a new phase in bar study time, marked by intense feelings of rage and bitterness.

I'm starting to hate everyone and everything in sight as my bitterness toward Barbri grows to unprecedented proportions.

I resent their stupid Paced Program schedule that I've never been able to follow. Are they kidding me? I have to work my ass off just to do HALF the things on their damn list!

I resent their stupid study suggestions: 5-8 hours a day. 5-8 hours a day?! Impossible! My back hurts, I've given up tv, I barely check my email, I don't exercise, I eat crap, and I can only eek out at most 3-6 hours a day.

I resent their stupid graded assignments. Go ahead, fail me. Fail every single one of my essays. Fail me for the multiple-choice questions. Fail me for the performance exams. Up yours! I'm starting to nurture a cynical attitude to the whole process. Of course it's in Barbri's best interest to fail students...makes them study harder, lights a huge bonfire under their ass...not much downside for them either...

And I resent this whole notion of having to take the bar at all! I went through 3 years of an ABA accredited lawschool. Isn't that enough for you people?! You're the ones that certified my lawschool in the first place! Why the heck would you certify the school if you weren't assured that its graduates would be competent members of your oh so precious bar?!?!?!?!

Sigh.

Poor Michael. I'm a b*tch to live with.

:-)

Hellathon Week 4: WT"F"?!

Today I got back my first graded assignment from Barbri, an essay on Torts.

I thought I did a reasonably good job. I expected to pass with a pretty good margin. Afterall, I attended all the lectures, dutifully attended to my outline, and gave back almost verbatim all the rules and elements they told me.

So imagine my horror at the big "F" staring me in the face on the last page of my assignment.

An "F" for fail. Are you kidding me?! Usually I would feel embarrassed about failing something, but instead, I just feel pissed off. Really. Pissed. Off.

Now is not the time for misdirection and lack of clarity! Was my essay really unpassable, or was the grader just lacking incentive to grade more accurately? Did I not pass because I didn't apply IRAC throughout, or just because I failed to do so in one isolated area of privacy torts? Why were vast paragraphs unmarked and only one commented on?

The most frustrating part is that I don't think I'll get any good answers to these questions. There's no one to ask! I go to class and watch a video everyday!

Argh.

Hellathon Week 3: Languishing in Barland

There's something about weekends that make you naturally reflective about the past week.

As I reflect on my past week, I see nothing but inefficiency and disappointment. My lofty goal of studying 5 hours a day (aside from the 4 hour lectures) were never met. Not even for one day. On average, I studied a pathetic 2.5 hours per day.

After having a mild panic attack, I vow to do better next week.

I will start memorizing substantive law.
I will take shorter breaks.
I will study 5-6 hours a day!

Nothing soothes the bitter gall of regret like the balm of over-optimism. Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night...

Hellathon Day 7 & 8

Long dry lectures by one of the most brilliant minds in Constituional Law jurisprudence: Erwin Chemerinsky. It was an honor and a chore.

What made it worst though were his constant corny puns. To wit:

Concerning a case about the government taxing wheat:
"I guess the government really wants its dough."
[class groans]
"What? I thought you'd all get a rise out of that."
[class groans more]
"But I'm on a roll!"
[class wretches]

Tomorrow: graduation! Thank goodness I finally get a break from class (but not from the 4-6 hour homework schedule). Sleeping in today felt amazing!

Hellathon Day 6

Tired. In every way.

Must keep reminding myself that this is a pass/fail exam.

The amount of homework that does not get done is rising like a tide. Usually I can do 50% of the assignments. But now with packing and graduation activities coming to a swell, I can do about 20%. Sigh.

Hellathon Day 5: Gimme a break!

Today was my 5th straight lecture day in a row.

We get no breaks for the weekend! Everyday it's the same.

4 hours of lecture, 3-5 hours of homework.
Will I ever get to watch day-time tv again?!
Do people really do all this homework?! Seriously?

Good news about the insomnia. Sonata works! I feel almost human again.

Hellathon Day 4: Sleepless in C-bridge

3d day of insomnia.

The insomnia has taken on a life of its own. It has grown beyond any normal bounds of restraint. Despite my taking OTC sleep aids, reading a novel in bed to relax, and feeling exhausted all day, the minute I turn out the lights...it's there.

Waiting for me. Waiting to devour what precious time I have left and turn me into a lifeless zombie.

So it was time to bring in the big guns--prescription sleep aids. Went to go see my doctor and got some Sonata. This is hope in a bottle.

Hellathon Day 3

2d day of Insomnia.

2d day of Evidence lectures.

The spoon-feeding has turned into brutal force-feeding. Today was an especially horrific "double" lecture day. 8. Hours. Of. Lecture.

How is it that I'm only on my 2d day and already I feel 3 days behind? The insomnia certainly doesn't help. I feel like a zombie. Must resign myself to failing the bar (with a slim chance of a miracle pass!)

Hellathon Day 2

First obstacle: Insomnia.

First lecture: Evidence. Some observations:

(1) Wow, this is what it's like to learn blackletter law. Mmmm, very pleasant to be spoon-fed knowledge.

I wish I had gone to Barbri Law School instead--would've saved me months of pointless classes and gobs of tuition money.

Hellathon Day 1

Today is day 1 of an 8 week course from hell: The California Bar Prep.

One part hell and one part marathon, this excrutiating course attempts to cram in 13 subjects of law in just 2 short months. California has the lowest bar passage rate in the country, around 60%. Eek.


The course suggests that you study 10-11 hours PER DAY if you want a hope of a prayer of a chance of passing. Are you kidding?! I haven't studied that much since...well, maybe never.

Today was a short 2 hour intro to "ease" us into this horrible experience and was mostly memorable for the cheesy lecturer we had. He introduced himself as, "the most interesting guy you'll ever meet" and proceeded to pronounce every word ending in a -y wrongly on purpose.

Example: Does he have any liabilit-IE?
Example 2: I love lecturing on propert-IE.

Just shoot m-IE.