Sunday, July 18, 2010

Obviously, I have a love/hate relationship with the internet

It's the little things...Like when you check your Sitemeter, and find out that some of your hits are coming from Facebook, and it occurs to you that maybe someone out there has recognized your brilliance and "shared" on Facebook, and tons of people are "liking" the smart and interesting things you just said. Or something. It's always novel and exciting to me to think that people I don't know actually read this little corner of the internet. Hi, strangers!

...and if you, dear reader, are that Facebook-posting person: I am currently stoked. Please, if you did "share," don't tell me if it was something along the lines of "and this person is totally a dufus!", ok? I'm enjoying basking in my very feeble 15 seconds of internet fame.


Related, sort of: A very wise person (and we know she's smarter than me, because she had the good sense not to go to law school) emailed me yesterday to say:

[You will pass the bar]. You will. BarBri does this on purpose, just like the Marines do. They break you down and then build you back up so that, when you DO pass, you'll sing the praises of BarBri to every single person you've ever met in your life, including the cashier at Walmart. That's how they are the #1 rated Bar prep class. And, just like your secret blog said, you're just the scared child whose parents left him/her alone in the grocery store. Except that this time, your parents left you on purpose so that you'd stay RIGHT NEXT TO THEM when you went to the grocery store the next time.
Touche, my friend. Touche. She's so right. Onward and upward, my friends!


Two other things:
1. You guys are awesome. Thanks.*

2. Does the bar make anyone else fly wildly between soul crushing lows and prancing around the living to Honky Tonk Badonkadonk?**

No?

Just me?

Ok, then.




* Ok, most of you. Some of you leave nasty anonymous comments, and for that I say: Fie on you! If I want to be belittled and sworn at, I've got a lifetime's worth of former coaches and customers that are up to the task, thankyouverymuch.


** This is my oh-so-klassy act of scholastic rebellion. You can't break me, Barzam! I don't have to know torts to shake my booty. So there.

6 comments:

Eliza said...

1. Fuck anonies. They can kiss my Bar exam fattened arse.

2. Stay stoked. Believe in the story that you make up. Example...AL has a pass rate of about 79% for out of state takers. Here is my rationalization...R U ready? (I am going to offend people with this. Before you flame, realize that this is MY RATIONALIZATION based on no data and I really don't necessarily believe it). People who test in AL from out of state are disproportionately people who could not get in an accredited schools in AL. Because of this and an unwillingness to go to an unaccredited school, they chose to go to a school that does not give them the skills to take the bar. (OK, I am being mean to 3rd and 4th tier, so sue me for creating my own story for why I am not going to be one to fail.).

Stupid, you bet. Get me throw the day? Absolutely.

Brittany said...

Your post made it's way around a few of my FB friends, all good comments I promise.

Also, it wasn't honkey tonk badonkey donk, it was "live your life" by TI, on repeat, while I drove around town aimlessly.

Legally Fabulous said...

I know a lot of dumb idiots who have passed the bar. That's the only thing keeping me going.

Liz Johnson said...

After you take the Bar (and pass), you will probably have nightmares about Honky Tonk Badonkadonk. I know this because I had the MacGruber theme song in my head while I was in labor with my 2nd kid, and I can't hear that song without my uterus wigging out.

mjg said...

Chuck Shonholtz passed the bar. QED.

Sara said...

Oh goodness, studying for the bar exam was the worst experience of my life. Absolutely fucking terrifying. I feel for you sister. My husband and I vowed that if we passed, we'd never ever ever leave our state because we couldn't bear the thought of taking it again. Hang in there!

All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson