Thanks Giving

Somewhere along the way I began a tradition of having everyone at the dinner table say what they are thankful for on Thanksgiving Day.

Because not everyone necessary for a complete giving of thanks will be at my table ( failure to join an indispensable party I think ) I am going to give my thanks here.

This Thanksgiving I am obviously thankful that I passed the California Bar Exam. I am also thankful for all the love and support (including financial) from all of the great people that stood by me while I travelled this difficult road.

April and Julie kept me sane when there was no one else. Ashley kept me insulated from anything that would distract me. John let me study when I should have been working. Eric and the mansion crew kept me drinking when I was about to give up. Kelly sent me her Angels. Mom handed me her Platinum Card and said do whatever it takes. Ronda made sure I was at the Convention Center on time every day and got me wined up with the best Lodi Zinfandel after it was over.

Max reminded me to never quit and I hung my Blue Rope from my rear view mirror as a daily affirmation that I would fight on to complete the mission. With no air conditioner in the 120 degree summer heat that Blue Rope kept me driving on Airborne.

My Wardog family went with me into every exam through the coin in my pocket, and many bought my drinks for me when the exam was over. I could never let you guys down.

She took me in when I was heartbroken and beaten and was my best cheerleader when the fight got rough. As difficult as it was to live with me through all of this she never faltered and never let me give up. This journey, which would have been unbearable alone, has become the most enjoyable journey (so far) in my life.

And I am thankful for everyone else that has encouraged and contributed to my cause for celebration this Thanksgiving.

Thank you all so much ... con todo mi ser, gracias.

Legalizing Marijuana ?

I don't typically take positions on political issues. Law school educates politics right out of you. (Not to be confused with being a politician, a profession many lawyers pursue. I'm talking about political ideology and positions here).

I feel I am forced to take a position on the issue of whether or not to legalize marijuana, however not for political or religious reasons. My position is purely selfish and based in economics.

I was in San Diego last weekend. If you don't already know, a lot of weed is smoked in San Diego, particularly in Ocean Beach, where an enterprising beach bum can acquire a rather satisfactory contact high just by walking in and out of various crowds.

Sunday morning we stopped for coffee and bagels at Einstein's Bagels. As you will soon see, the name should have been Dumbfuck Stoner's Bagels.

OK, so pretend you are the guy behind the counter at the bagel and coffee place. A man and a woman, obviously together, discuss their desires for breakfast then approach you to place the order.

You would take both orders right ?

Not Dumbfuck stoner boy.

No, he enters my order, closes the ticket and mumbles I can pay at the other end of the counter (where the cash register is in plain view). I nod and wait for him to take her order. No, Dumbfuck stoner boy gets offended I remained in his red zone and insists I can pay at the other end of the counter.

Now I'm pissed. I have not even had my motherfucking coffee yet.

It gets worse.

I informed Dumbfuck stoner boy he will now take the rest of our order and I will then proceed to the plainly visible cash register to pay for the entire order. Thinking he is now in compliance with my most reasonable demand we complete the ordering process and slide a few yards to the cashier.

For fucks sake. What do you mean you have to run the debit card twice? That's right, Dumbfuck stoner boy strikes again - two checks.

Facing the competing options of bitchslapping Dumbfuck stoner boy or pissing on his leg I decide that I really need my coffee now.

I not so politely informed the "manager" that we are leaving because rainman down at the other end is a dumbfuck stoner. Manager just gazes through half closed blurry eyes and says nothing. Probably had not completely processed though the haze of weed yet.

So here is my theory.

I believe that most of the "quick service" employees are potheads. Think about it. No drug testing. Free fried food. No drug testing. Simple tasks that can be relearned every week (like washing your hands and asking "would you like fries with that?"). No drug testing. Flexible hygiene standards. No drug testing. Look closely the next time you are grabbing a "quick" bite somewhere. Potheads. You know I am right.

Now, imaging all these Dumbfuck stoners aren't even trying to hide the fact that they are stoned. The "smoke break" takes on a whole new meaning.

You think your Taco Bell order is fucked up now? Wait until weed is legal! Forgotten fries, diet instead of regular, missing meat from your Mc Whopper or whatthefuckever you eat.

And they will all be laughing hysterically behind the counter.

And you can forget all about "fast food" and "quick service." Not that its very fast now but grease the wheels of food production with some weed and watch our entire industrial complex grind to slow motion.

The Dumbfuck stoners will never understand us unless we learn to speak stoner. For example, "dude, like score me some big ass fries and like ummmm maybe like a Mc .. wait ... um nevermind scratch that umm... dude what?" Equals "a number 2 to go with a coke" in the cortex of the Dumbfuck stoner.

Legalize weed all you want. Just not for the fucksticks that serve us our food and especially our coffee.

Shit. Now I'm craving Doritos.

A Horse is a Horse Of Course ...

... of course unless the horse is some blonde scrawny mouth full of teeth chick at my bar.

Seriously, she couldnt even close her mouth with all the teeth. I wonder is she is a mouth breather?

I didn't really notice her right away because of her chubbie friend that was stripper dancing in her seat. I finally understand what "pigs dancing in a burlap sack" really looks like. Its funny how beer and latin hip hop a la Pitbull can get an ugly chick humming on herself.

Our night was winding down and it seemed theirs was winding up. Horsemouth came out of nowhere up to our table as if to graze and asked if any of us were smokers. But her teeth didnt move! Those white boulders of got beat the fuck up by the tooth fairy are packed in her mouth so damn tight nothing moves!

We were all stunned by her sudden presence and HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THOSE FUCKING TEETH that no one responded right away. McLovin finally said some weak something something about smoking cigarettes or something else. This elicited giggles of joy from Horsemouth.

I was able to avert my stare long enough to jump on the set up McLovin gave me, pushing Horsemouth to confess that she and her Chubsketeers had some ganja. Come on, ALL fat and/or ugly chicks have ganja or they will never get laid. I grilled her to the point that she was about to admit to possessing said narcotic when Bosnia Girl ran Horsemouth off. I never even got my badge off my belt.

Amid a chorus of horse noises and breying we finally wandered toward the front door, but not before taking one last look just to make sure Horsemouth wasn't just wearing some kind of fucked up redneck halloween prop.

Nope. Those fucking teeth are for real.

Was it really that bad?

I'll put it this way. I have no idea what Horsemouth's tits look like. Those that know me can tell you thats really fucking bad.

I think we can add a new one to the list of asshole shit to do while fucking a girl: The Lone Ranger - when you mount a Horsemouth and yell loudly, "Hi Yo Silver, Away!!!"

Then try to hold on.

Back to School

I just glanced through the "suggested answers" to the July 2009 CaliBar essays via a link posted by my fellow Bar Exam Survivor - The Grand Poobah.

As I read them I felt that same sick to my stomach feeling I felt the entire bar exam. The feeling that says "I'm just fucking over this shit already." And I am. Over it that is.

So, I'm back in school, come what may. Seems my failure to acquire an accredited undergraduate degree prior to my undergraduate courses aging approximately 20 years has left me exatcly where I started at age 18 - in my "freshman" year of college.

I am retaking the usual general education requirements over the next few semesters through two of Maricopa Coummunity Colleges' local institutions. One is wholly online and the other, well lets just say I like being in a classroom for the first time ever.

Why ?

Short version: Once I rack up 60 credits I am entering an oriental medicine degree program here in Phoenix. Its a 4 year full time (albeit evenings and weekends) professional program in modern traditional chinese medicine (acupuncture, Chinese herbology, qi gong, tui na, and on and on).

Why not?

I already am in study mode. In fact, 14 credits is less work than bar review was. Less time. Less thinking. Less stress.

No, I'm not giving up on my dreams and goals. Law never was the end all be all for me. I just forgot that after July 08.

So if you see me walking around campus say hello and buy me a coffee .... you know you want to!

One More Week and I'll Be Through

"Here we go again... same old shit again...."

The cadence we used to sing in the Army (and when I say sing I use that term in the loosest possible way) were usually geared towards counting down until some shitty thing was over and life got better.

This is so because the thing that we were consumed by was usually rather shitty.

I think the key is that if you cannot change the shitty things then you have to not be consumed by the things so shitty.

I am off to Sacramento tomorrow for the week. For three days of that week I will be writing the bar exam. The bar exam is not going to consume me because at the end of the three days I will walk out still being the same person I am right now. The bar exam is not shitty because I can do anything for three days.

Besides, I am going to a certain Wine Piazzo to taste, enjoy, and acquire some of the most wonderfully grown old world grapes this side of Italy.

Now that my friends is something I will allow to consume me.

Who Is Counting Anyway?

Its not like I'm really counting down the days until Cal Bar Exam III. But its just under two weeks away.

I have my pencils, pens, admission ticket, ear plu.... shit I still need to get ear plugs.

Guess I need to make a list and check it twice?

Well, I'm really not counting.

Its not like I'm a hundred points short of passing. Just 5 raw points.

Feedback from BarBri has been helpful and I am thinking differently about the essays. I see the facts differently. I organize differently (and I didn't really even organize on Cal Bar Exam I). I IRAC - which is different.

I feel more prepared than I have been in the past.

But don't get me wrong. I'm not arrogant about this thing in any way.

I need more coffee ....

In celebration of Independence Day

I am the Infantry.

I am my country's strength in war, her deterent in peace.

I am the heart of the fight, wherever, whenever.

I carry America's faith and honor against her enemies.

I am the Queen of Battle.

I am what my country expects me to be, the best trained soldier in the world.

In the race for victory, I am swift, determined, and courageous, armed with a fierce will to win.

Never will I fail my country's trust.

Always I fight on, through the foe, to the objective, to triumph over all.

If necessary, I fight to my death.

By my steadfast courage, I have won 233 years of freedom.

I yield not to weakness, to hunger, to cowardice, to fatigue, to superior odds, for I am mentally tough, physically strong, and morally straight.

I forsake not my country, my mission, my comrades, my sacred duty.

I am relentless.

I am always there, now and forever.

I AM THE INFANTRY! FOLLOW ME!

Building

Hi. I'm Brook Davis. Not really, but thats the name we'll use here. I am in the process of populating this blog with past blogshit from another location. I am not editing anything (aside from spelling errors) and the dates will reflect the orogonal post dates.

Today I am in the process of preparing to take the California Bar Exam for the third time. More about that later....

What a long strange trip ....

One year ago I was, inter alia:

1) "studying" (read - panicing) for the July 2008 bar exam; and

2) supressing my bitterness and anger about my (soon to be ex) wife's 'sudden' decision to move to Texas.

A lot of my blogging then was laced with that bitterness and panic and most of my faithful readers seemed to rather enjoy my angry prose. It seems that as my anger has subsided, so has my readership and kudos. I don't know if it was the FML flavor of my blogs or the underlying disposition that no matter what, I was not going to roll over and take it.

Whatever it was my life is tempered and calm now. No drama. Really, I mean no drama. Nada.

We are all moved into the new apartment now and have unpacked enough of the boxes that we can walk from room to room, see the furniture, eat dinner at the table, and relax a little.

For all the moving I have had to suffer through in the past year this move was different. Everything really just fell into the right place at the right time. I am rather accustomed to having things just fall into place in my life and I suspect I have reached a turning point.

So it seems I have no bitterness, no anger, no jaded outrage to share with you. All I have is a smile, a warm heart, and the calm that only comes with knowing that someone has your back no matter what comes along.

Bar preparation is progressing and I start the essay course this coming Sunday. I am excited and determined, happy, and I wouldn't change a thing....

Clap Clap V2.0

I received my scores from the February 09 Bar Exam and I was 15 points away from passing, closing the gap halfway from last July.

I enrolled in Bar/Bri's EssayAdvantage and PerformanceAdvantage courses via iPod in order to get the more 'hands on' writing instruction for each tested subject. This way I am modeling my essay writing on passing essays rather than mythical "model answers" that were written over several months instead of an hour.

"Everyone takes Bar/Bri" is a mantra long repeated in the halls of law schools and bar exam centers from coast to coast, and I want my essays to look like the essays written by those who pass.

I have a reasonable study schedule in place and already have all the substantive law lectures reviewed. I am still focused from last time and daily my focus is sharper.

I am absolutely determined. I'm not sure I can say that about July 2008. I was still responding to my sudden life changes and, quite honestly, I was being a bit dramatic, and a complete asshole.

As fun as it was, I'm not going to rinse and repeat what has almost worked. I have a new system, new materials, a fresh start and renewed purpose.

I am calm and happy actually. The only stress was money related and that issue is moot.

I took five minutes and revisited why I was taking the bar in the first place and my perspective was refreshed. I'm happy and I know it.

Clap Clap

Whatever it takes...

I was a casualty of the 33.5 % overall pass rate for the February 2009 California Bar Exam.
But don't tell me "I'm sorry" or "That sucks" because its nothing but a thing.

When I started this "thing" I pre-determined I would finish. No matter what. And I will Whatever it takes.

For the last couple of months I have been listening to all the substantive law lectures in my car driving back and forth to the office so I already have reviewed 'The Law.'

Thanks to the very generous (and often unwarranted) support of my Mom I am enrolled in a extensive (and frankly expensive) intensive essay writing program. I know the damn law. I just haven't been able to produce the writing model in my essays that gets the passing scores.

The nice thing about the essay course is its delivered via iPod so I can do it twice or even thrice before July. Whatever it takes.

I am not distressed, or even disappointed. I did the absolute best I could do in February - not something I can say about July 2008. I prepared as strongly as I could have and I fought all three days. I got my teeth kicked in by some of it and I knew it then but I fought on. Whatever it takes.

I am not sad or depressed. I have the strongest and most supportive group of friends and family in my life - the likes of which I have never before experienced. They remind me that there is a big picture and there is life after the bar exam. There is even life during bar review.

I am calm, determined, focused, and intelligent enough to know I cannot simply repeat the incorrect writing style over and over and expect passing results. I am fixing the problem (not so much what I write, but how it is delivered - "a clear, concise, lawyer-like manner"). Whatever it takes.

I will pass the bar exam. Whatever it takes .....

Dust on the Bottle

It as been said that wine is sunshine, held together by water.

A glass of cabernet makes that statement real. A bottle makes that statement inadequate.

Not because you are drunk, mind you. Because you are intoxicated. There is a difference.

Wine is more. Wine is the expression of dreams. It is the expression of hope for something that does not yet exist. Wine is the final product of an emotional equation, the calculus of which is not written in any book of science.

Yet we can find the formula readily in our history, our poetry, our fiction, and perhaps in our heart.

First, lets exclude the mass production $6 a bottle variety of vino. That swill has no place in any meaningful conversation. If you want to get sloshed you can get cheap vodka as easily as Boone's Farm berry wine. Its not the same animal.

Next, lets go ahead and acknowledge that I am, inter alia, a snob of sorts. My coffee and my wine, my steak and my beer, and even the ties I wear, all have strict minimum standards.
Now lets see why that is so.

We all find a dream around 6 or 7 years old. We articulate some great thing we wish to do or be or see as we transit this existence. We do so without knowing the iconoclastic reality of this world and we, for a moment, have a purpose. If you stop and truly remember you will agree with me.

A vine is deliberately placed under stress. To coax the very best out of a grape it is tortured almost. It is starved in dry soils. Water often in abundance is deliberately withheld. All to prevent the berry from becoming lazy. Can you imagine a wine that had a marked sense of entitlement?

If you have never tasted the juice from an oak cask containing a small batch of family grown Zinfandel out of Amador County then I truly feel sorry for you. If you have, you know that the sparkle in Mr. Boitono's eye is distinctly identifiable in the glass. His smile is the warm introduction that covers your palate. And in the afterglow you suddenly see hundreds of years of growth, birth, death, and re-growth. You taste the ancient soil.

Wine is not water. It is tears. Good wine simply will not exist absent a struggle. Such a wine would be passionless, limp and impotent.

And in the end, in the bottle, in the glass, wine is happiness. Wine is peace. Wine is the final answer to the questions that we do not quite understand. It all just makes sense at the bottom of the bottle. But only if that bottle contained the passion and failure of its maker.

Wine represents the quality of the human spirit that will prevent our complete demise - we carry on. We pick ourselves up in the face of a purported failure and we get back into the thrasher. We endure crushing criticism from those that claim to look after our well being. We slowly morph and change and liquify.

We sit dark and cold as time passes, protected perhaps, yet we know ultimately we must soon face our demise. We label ourselves to preserve our faces as if to say "I was here." We cork our emotions at the risk of loosing them entirely.

I am passionate about my wine because it tells my story. I am selective about my wine because I refuse to settle for mediocrity. I savor my wine because I know that one day the bottle will be empty.

And when that day comes frankly I hope my glass is full to the rim with a sweet late harvest Zin that I can sip on into eternity.

There is a reason that the fable tells the story that the water was made into wine. In wine we find our reasons, hopes, desires, and limits.

If all this were true would you really want some cheap ass bottle of crap to represent you?
Rhetorical question. I had enough Cabernet tonight that I already know the answer.

Los Dias Diez, Dios Mio

I managed to make it until 10 days before, before I started to think that I can't stop thinking about. Yep. That's right. Its bar exam results time again.

I bet my few remaining loyal readers have truly enjoyed my complete lack of drama this time around. Or perhaps you have missed the chances to realize maybe my life sucks more than yours?

I have been rather busy since "February" so I apologize for not blanching words in this blogiverse. Let me share.

Immediately following the bar exam Daun drove out to Ontario with the kids (read: critters, pups, shit makers, trash eaters, bastages, etc) to pick me up. We spent the day at Disney. It rocked.

As soon as we got home I had to shower and shave, put on my badge and gun and like the song says I was off to the rodeo. I did see Johnny with his pecker in his hand and although I'm not sure if he really is a one ball man, he pissed me off. Fucking jerk. Get on my nerves.

So all weekend on duty and it was over. The final tally was the largest ever and more than $75,000 was/is being donated back into our local community.

Then it was Luke Days Air Show. Thank buddha everyone finally realized I really am 40 and not 27.

Then the FTX and then an in residence course and then and then and then.... dude where's my car?

We just found our new home. We get the keys in a week and start the (yay) moving process. Piss me off... I hate moving remember?

So Friday the 15th is a big day. I get to strap on my Glock and wander the NRA Firearms Law Seminar all day. (OK, I carry my Glock everyday but not everyone knows that right?) Then we get to pick up a big freakin truck to move everything.

And somewhere in there I get to go online and enter the numbers and press click and see what the screen says.

And then I get to find out what the next 71 days of my life have in store for me.

At least its not 40 below.......
11:30 PM

The short bus and burnt popcorn...

OK why is it that the person who burns the fucking microwave popcorn can never smell it?

The entire fucking building can be wafting with the stench of blackened butter burned popcorn that sat in the nuker on super-high for 13 minutes causing the smoke alarms to go off.

But no, fatty in the kitchen just yaps on her cell phone obivious to the negative environmental impact she is causing. Someone call Masry & Vititoe already !!

And that smell just doesn't go away. Its a special kind of stink. Kind of smells like the short bus. Old piss, BO and blue jeans.

And why is it the short bus anyway? With all the fucking retards in this world you would think someone would have the fucking idea to put them on the long bus instead.

Put the normal people on the damn short bus. After you get the burned popcorn smell out of it that is....

What would you do??

What would you do if you were a 19 year old girl on Spring Break? What if you were in Rocky Point Mexico? We all know what you would be doing.

So what would you do if a local radio station in Phoenix, Arizona called your cell phone while you were in Rocky Point for spring break and wanted you to be a "reporter" for them on the air? Keeping in mind this radio station is nationally known for its hijinks and conflict based shows, such as "Spring Break Busts."

Would you tell them about how you ate mushrooms and ended up tweaking yourself into the local 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped? And if you did would you then tell them how the next night you smoked some meth and eneded up again in the same 'emergency room' to have your stomach pumped again?

And if you did would you really be justified in literally shitting yourself when your father (and college financial aid source) breaks into the conversation and asks you if you have "lost your fucking mind?" Or maybe its the meth effect that made you bust ass all over the random hook-up in bed next to you. We want to know about him next!

Is Daddy pissed because you ate shrooms and smoked a little meth on your very first spring break to the wilds of Ole Mexico and he paid for it? Or is he pissed because yes, you are really that FUCKING DUMB that you would talk about it live on the radio?

Perhaps I am overly suspicious, having been through four wives, three midnight bug outs, two hostile fire zones and a restraining order in a pear tree. But if a radio station called me and wanted me to say some shit about me on the air.... come on are you REALLY that fucking STUPID ?

Another gimick they have is to call and tell you that you won some free flowers and who do you want to send them to. Come the fuck on!! Whoever you pick you can bet the OTHER person, the one you SHOULD have sent them to, is listening in on the conversation. Really ???

But the one that really makes me question are you really that FUCKING stupid is "Confession Wednesday" where they give free concert tickets to the best (and usually criminal) confession. Then they promptly turn over the recordings to local law enforcement and the FBI. Now I realyize that if you have not gone to law school the protections of the Fourth Amendment regarding search and seizure are a concept you dont completely understand but you still know the cops need a warrant right? Well the radio staition is not the cops and they don't need a warrant. And you just confessed to killing so and so or some other gradiose crime ??? Are you fucking KIDDING me ?

Come on people! It amazes me how a couple minutes of airtime and some free tickets can compel you to completely and irrevocably fuck yourself!

So while shrooms girl is at the No Doubt concert I hope she is thinking of ways to finance the next three years at ASU. Perhaps she will go into prostitution or drug sales? Then she can talk about it on Confession Wednesday and get some more tickets! Lets just hope she doesn't fall for the free flower bit when her boyfriend (pick one) gets suspicious and has the same DJ bust her out.....

If a radio station calls me I'm just going to hang the fuck up. Well, unless its Jimmy Buffet tickets.... then who knows??

On my porch ....

I did some mathematical, statistical, empirical, and cost benefit analysis of whether or not I should begin studying for the bar exam now, before results come out in May. I also got the opinion of a woman of great opinion and seems I have the humanistic and socialistic perspective on my decision.

Why would I study something I don't have to study? Several reasons. After coming within 27 points of passing the bar exam but not passing, I realize its rather possible to not pass the damn thing. I have to allow for that possibility, empirically speaking of course.

The thing is, its not very productive to figure out a plan of action and build a task list when you are under the emotional and social stress of not passing the bar exam and knowing you are going back into that damn room. Quitting is simply not an option for me so I will go back in the room until its done. Period.

So having a "Plan B" well in advance is the best way to drive through the let down and drama of not finding your name on the pass list. Well perhaps a Plan C.

There are something like 66 days until results come out and that means 66 days of preparation that can be banked which will take the strain off the limited time I would have between May 15 and July 26 to get my collective shit together.

I have a pretty long commute every weekday to the office and back home. On a busy traffic day that might mean 2 1/2 hours listening to traffic reports and music. Well I already know the traffic sucks thank you. The music is the same 16 songs over and over.

So I am using my commute time to re-review my substantive law lectures. There are about 54 hours of lectures covering the bar exam law. That means I can passively re-review the substantive law easily over the next 66 days - twice even ! (No, I'm not that sick, but its possible).

Come May 15, if it turns out I am going back in July I will have saved myself from having to re-do all the lectures as part of my Plan C bar review. And all I had to do is drive to work and home. If I pass then I learn the law better and I can stop studying on May 15. Its a win win.

Studying now is not a reflection of my feelings about "February" in any way. I am being proactive. Thats 54 hours of bar review I already completed before the bar review program even begins.

But I'm not justifying anything here. Its my porch after all...

Dude ... where's my bar exam ???

It seems I managed to get through "February" but I'm not really sure what happened. Well I do remember a few things.

I remember that first Performance Test on Tuesday. I remember thinking "FUCK!!!" and then probably saying it a few times to myself out loud. Fortunately most people had ear plugs in. You know, the material typically associated with swimming?

I remember feeling pretty much knocked out, but I reminded myself to quit being a pussy and told myself to STFU and get back in the game. Besides, most people got their salad tossed by that PT and points is points is points.

Wednesday - MBE. Due to confidentiality, copyright and non-disclosure agreements all I can say is yeah, I took it.

Thursday. How did it get to be Thursday ? They tested California evidence as a full essay and I got the distinctions mostly in the bluebook (actually it was canary or muave or some such shit).

The second Performance Test seemed more straightforward and at least I managed to solve the problem in my head. I'm still not really sure what the law of Luxembourg has to do with intellectual property rights and TRO pretrial attachments.

The best part was Friday morning. Around 7am I woke up to my phone playing "Here" and for half a second my beer battered brain told me I was late for the exam session. Then I realized it was the day after and my girlfriend was calling me to let me know she and the critters were almost to the hotel.

Naptime, again. Then off to IHOP for whatever that was they tried to serve us and after a little light complaining we got a decent plate of pancakes and were off to Disneyland.

First we had to drop the critters at the critter place. OK, yeah ALL of Disney is a critter place, but they have a doggie day care off to the side of the entrance. $40 later the critters were safely trembling in their cozy kennel and we were off to see the wiz.... ok we were Zipidy Do Da through the gate.

Pirates was pretty much the same with the addition of Cap'n Jack popping his damn realistic head up here and there. Creepy a little how much it looked like a person. But I figure a real person would have been pretty pissed when I splashed him with water. No I really didnt do that but you THOUGHT I did and that tells me how much you care.

Anyway, some tossfuck thought it would be fun to get out of the boat or something and we got stuck for 20 minutes in the middle of the ship to shore battle. Then we were off.

You know the rides so I don't need to go over it but yeah, Disney is not just for kids. Pics will be posted soon.

So after all day of Disney we had dinner with good friends and we were on the road again.

Two days of rodeo later I find myself in the office feeling guilty that I was not writing checklists or studying. It went fast. Too fast. I did what I could. I fought a good fight. Either it was enough or ot wasn't.

Either way, you know I wont quit.

May 15, 2009, at 6:00 p.m. is the next R-Day.

This Paratrooper is JMPI'd and Standing In The Door

The time has passed quickly and the California Bar Exam Version 2.0 kicks off next Tuesday morning. I have not blogged much about "February" and I think there are several reasons.

First, I just have not been as stressed out this time around. I have already faced the enemy once and I know its face. I have been in the exam room and experienced the meltdowns and breakdowns. When you are at rock bottom its easier to take a pirate stance and fight back because you are at least on solid ground and you can't go any lower. I may have found myself lying on the ground under the lowness of the limbo bar but the music is still playing and I get another round. This time I am more flexible and can feel the beat of the music.

I also have a cheerleader that believes in me more than I ever believed in myself last summer. She has walked along with me listening to my increasingly annoying discussions about

Dependent Relative Revocation and Abatement By Extinction, and even tolerates my elemental comparisons of common law burglary to modern law burglary. In fact once I toss some Dying Declaration and Present Sense Impression into the conversation she sticks her tongue in my mouth.

I'm still working through memorization and recall checklists, but overall I feel more prepared this time.

Anyway, since I don't have anything bar exam that is interesting to write about I'm going to have to find some new topics for my apparently well read blogshit. Since we are going to Disneyland next Friday after "February" I might have something fun to write about.

Bar Review Version 2.1

No! Not more blogshit about fucking bar review... right ?

Actually, and not surprisingly, bar review version 2.1 is nothing like version 1.0 was.
Highlights of the differences:

I am writing 3 practice essays for each of the 14 major tested subjects and 4 practice performance tests - I submit these to the bar tutors for "critique" which they provide to me via recording.

Following all of that ( 56 hours of handwriting and approximately 500 or so pages of answers and outlines completed in the next 30 days ) I will then set out to memorize some 900 plus specific rules of law and 15 or so mental checklists, write out an additional 75 or so outlines to practice questions and generally absorb "the law."

So once again I am back to making jokes that only myself and other legally minded people understand. For example, "I own blackacre" would make a lecture hall of law student piss theyselves laughing.

I also need regular reminders to eat, use deodorant and go to bed. I manage to remind myself to take showers and brush my teeth however. Provided there is hot fucking water in my house anyway.

All in all life is great, bar review is nothing like before, and the Pilot Pen Company is sending me personal "thank you" notes for contributing to their record first quarter profits.
So unlike last time, feel free to stay in touch, say hello, and show up at my 40th Birthday Party coming up on the 17th. Just don't ask me to explain the "rule against perpetuities" or I might give you a dependant relative revocation.

But if you are in the market I'm selling blackacre....