In a month and a week, I'll be back home in NJ.  I'm anticipating the change with a mixed amount of dread and eagerness. First, it'll be wonderful to be free from school and the law for some time. I plan on taking a massive month-long break where I mainly go to the beach and the movies, by myself, if need be. But I love my neighborhood here in Brooklyn. Everything is within two minutes' walking distance from me, and I'll sorely miss living in the city.  On the other hand, my brother has an XBox 360 upon which I will happily wile away hours and hours of free time. But even the image of sitting alone playing XBox 360 doesn't make me that happy. It'll be lonely and quiet.  It's disappointing that when we're finally free to party and make happy, my friends and I will be separated by unfathomable amounts of time and distance.  Well, I exaggerate (don't I always?).. but it'll seem that way, since I'll be an hour (in no traffic) away from the city. No fun times. No "come over and let's watch the Doctor Who while eating copious amounts of indian food!" No "wanna get brunch?" 

The fact that my mind has already skipped over the blank-ness of this oncoming month of July just shows how in-denial I am about this whole Bar exam tribulation. I'm already planning the novel I'm going to write in my time off, while I look for a job.  If I write that novel, I've already planned out my pen name under which it'll be published. Heh. Last night, I fell asleep pretending to be a guest on Conan O'Brien's Tonight Show.

"I never thought I'd make it here! I'm such a huge fan, Conan. Why, yes, I did write the novel right after law school. No, I never thought it'd be such a huge hit! I'm just relieved I never actually had to go through with becoming a lawyer!"  The crowd laughs.

Seriously though, once I'm a lawyer, my parents could feasibly hire me. As their attorney. And as their attorney, I'd recommend they hire a real attorney. You know, one that knows stuff and can do it.

Speaking of pipe dreams, I'm still running as often as I can (about two or three times a week) and I've actually stopped dying on the treadmill after ten minutes. Mini-wave in celebration of ME!

Also, I love Aaron Sorkin. Just started watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Too bad it didn't survive past its first year. I love that he lives in a world where men are noble, women are in charge, and bromances are more important than romances. It's so sweet. 

This is redundant, having posted it on my facebook already, but I wanted to mark the day for future reference on my xanga.

Finished!  What do I feel?  Tired.  Joyful!

I had dinner with my roomie, who has actually now moved out but I prefer to continue calling her "roomz." We had a delicious sushi dinner, an entire bottle of champagne, and some good heart-to-heart conversation.

Now, slightly slushy and woozy, I am making a to do list of life maintenance activities for tomorrow. This lists includes: Laundry, lots of it. Stamps. Buy scent-free detergent. Sleep until the cows come home.

In no particular order, I will do all those things tomorrow. And then tomorrow night, I'll be going to a Mets game to watch them trounce the Braves.

Afterwards... who's to saa--*yawn*--ay.  okgnite

I'm proud to announce that I've made some progress on the running thing.  I've stuck with it, and today, for the first time... maybe EVER, I went running for two days in a row.  Maybe I should say... two days running.  Har har.

Also, I got a $20 gift certificate to a nice Scandinavian restaurant.  I haven't had anything Scandinavian since I "had" that cute trombone player in that Scandinavian band when we stayed in the same hostel in Scotland. lol. Kidding. Who knows what kind of Scandinavian STDs that guy was carrying??? Still, he was hot.  And watching Sex and the City reruns all night long will seriously do a number in your head.  Mostly, I end up thinking... Why am I not having as much sex as these girls? Then I listen to this hilarious song, called "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me" and sing along.

I've had some wine, but that's irrelevant to the purpose of this post.

On Friday, I'm getting fingerprinted.  The U.S. gov't has me on their national fingerprinting database already (because I'm a trouble-maker and they've got me in their crosshairs) but now the ABA is also going to have me in their files.  The lesson here?  Don't become a lawyer if you ever plan on pulling off a grand bank vault heist, at least if you want to do it gloveless.  Thankfully, I have many stylish gloves.

Oops, that's a lie.  I have no stylish gloves at all.

Yesterday, I dreamed that my boy-that-got-away came back and swept me off my feet.  I woke up thinking, "Why is my dream life so much better than my real life?" and then I studied all day, went to class, watched the Mets lose another stupid game, suffered a headache all day long, went running again, shook my fist at the rainy, cloudy sky, collapsed on the couch and realized... pain is good.  It makes sleep and dreaming just that much sweeter.

This is why the Mets lose:
 


By the way, if you want lose weight, you've got to stop eating lobster bisque at 11 pm. Just a helpful reminder.

And finally, I have one week of classes left in law school.  Three exams and one five page paper left in law school.  One ginormous and stressful bar exam left until the next phase of life.  One yawning chasm of jobless abyss left until the next phase of life.  May I just take this opportunity to say?...

DANAAANAAAAAANAAAAAAAA.... IT'S THE FINAAAAAL COUNTDOOOOOWN!  DANANAAANAAAAAADANANANANANAAAA


Now, I'm gonna do the boring thing and post some lyrics, but maybe it'll help if you picture me drunk and screaming them at the top of my lungs with drunken dancing? Complete with Gob-from-Arrested-Development-Dance-Moves? Yes?  Does that help?  Especially for my fellow law school sufferin' buddies... you know who you are. ;) ;)

We're leaving together!
But still it's farewell!!!
And maybe we'll come back,
To earth, who can tell?
I guess there is no one to blame
We're leaving ground
Will things ever be the same again?

It's the final countdown!!!!!!!!11!

I don't have a job!  If I don't get a job by July, I'm gonna have to move back in with my parents in NJ.  Who knew when I decided to go to law school that I'd be stuck in this situation, with an economic collapse and a legal industry in the shambles?  It seems extraordinarily unfair, but since I'm not one of the Madoff victims or someone similarly devastated by the economic situation, I won't cry.  Too much.  Still, it seems like the timing couldn't be worse.  I'm graduating right when no one's hiring.  In a year, people will be hiring again.  Last year, people were hiring.  It just so happens that no one is hiring.  Right.  Now. 

I thought by now I'd have a job.  I thought I'd be able to plan for a Bar Trip to an exotic locale.  I thought I'd be able to splurge a bit and buy season tickets to the Mets.  I thought I'd be apartment hunting.  I thought I'd finally be able to live a grown up life, supporting myself, paying my bills, living and working in NY.

Instead, I'm faced with the prospect of asking my parents for help, moving back in with them, and doing... what?  Urgh.

I'm stressed and I'm scared, and I can't do anything but stare with furrowed brow at the news and then change the channel to something mindless (like Rachel Ray's 30 Minute Meals) and eat chocolate.

Any good news, you ask me?  Err... baseball's back.  I love baseball so much, I could take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant.  ... what?  I don't know.

My trip to Nevada Smith's--the soccer bar in NYC--was exhiliarating.  The sheer energy and crazed fandom frenzy engulfed me and my friends, and we were only too willing to give in to it.  It was a regular season game between the NY/NJ Red Bulls and the brand new Seattle Sounders, but all the cheering, chanting, singing, jumping, and drinking that led up to it seemed (to me) only "appropriate" for games with serious championship consequences.  So my night was colored with a slight wistful longing.  Why can't the American culture of sports fandom be this crazed and enthused for... say, baseball?  It was starkly clear that this energy for the game was directly inherited from the ex-pats that brought it here from across the pond.  You would never get Mets fans gathering like this, everyone wearing jerseys, singing and chanting and yelling at the tvs, all for a regular season game against an unknown team with no existing rivalries.  I wanted to bottle up the fervor so I could study it, tap it, and release it into all dull, quiet sports bars.

The evening DID cross a threshold I didn't want to witness, however.  Two fights broke out that night:  one was too far from me to get a clear idea of what happened, but the other was way too near.  I was maybe two feet away from the monster of a guy doing the pounding--close enough to hear the impact of his fist on the victim's face--and I didn't know how to react.  I did the only thing I've been trained to do, which is to say... nothing.  I froze on the spot and stared in horror.  My stuttering brain did sigh, "Well, I'm close enough to get hit is all I'm sayin.." Finally someone had the sense to pull me back and then I came to my senses and cowered behind someone at the bar. 

I learned several things from this experience.  1.  That is the closest to real-life violence I've ever come and I never want to get closer.  I've managed to avoid becoming desensitized to violence and graphic images through tv and movies, which I always thought was a good thing.. but if I've managed to suppress my whole animal instinct of fight-or-flight (and instead, did my own version of the two F's, freeze-and-fluster).. well, that's not good.   2.  I was totally impressed with the quick reaction from the people around me who clearly had experience with bar fights.  They immediately leapt on this guy (no kidding, he was a big guy - at least 300 pounds) and, although it took about 7 of them, grabbed hold and steered him out the door.  (as he passed, I got a good glimpse at his crazy eyes.  yikes)  3.  Chivalry still lives, and whether you think it's good or bad, it can still melt a girl's heart (and I'm not talking about my own on this occasion). 

Anyway, baseball season is (finally--sigh) starting up soon.  I'm still on my quest to find a Mets bar with that much spirit.