The more things change, the more they stay the same.

For the last three years running, I spent the majority of the month of December hunched over a computer, furiously trying to cram three months of material into my brain long enough to spew it back to the professor. The kitchen table was inevitably piled three feet deep in books, notes, and outlines.

During idle daydreams, I often dreamt of that magical December after graduation. I would have my December weekends and evenings free. After law school, my holiday season would be one long cookie-baking, party-hopping, eggnog-drinking, family-loving binge.

So where have I found myself this particular December weekend? Hunched over a computer, furiously trying to cram three days of work into just a few short hours. Between swearing-in ceremonies, family visits, apartment hunting (blech!) and office Christmas parties, many projects were left untouched until this weekend. These projects which all have the same due date: Monday 12/12.

Strangely, after three straight years of December toil, working this weekend just *feels* like Christmas. A peppermint candle is burning, the Christmas tunes are rocking the iPod, and it looks like a paper bomb went off in my apartment.

Yes indeed. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

A penny for your thoughts, oh internet.

I have something to tell you. Something absolutely astounding.

December is here.

I know! It's shocking! My initial thought was "Holy crap, I need to turn in my billables today." Guess that's what passing the bar will do for your thought processes. But my second thought was even scarier.

"What the hell do I get my husband?"

You see, my husband's birthday is a few days after Christmas. It's a significant birthday this year. A nice, even, round number. We were in Hawaii last year for his birthday. But this year, on his oh-so-significant birthday? He'll be driving a moving van full of our possessions southbound down I-5. And that, my friends, is kind of a let-down.

So help me out. What do you get for a man who is one of the most loving, caring, amazing people in this world? The kind of person who supports your biggest dreams and helps you find a way to make even the worst days a little better? It doesn't have to be big or expensive. It just needs to mean something.

Good thing I still have a month. I'm going to need all the time I can get.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

Yep, I haven't seen the gutter (much less a shot of tequila) since the night exam results came out. Since then, I've been busy. Working hard, playing hard. Being thankful. You know. All that stuff.

Oh, and apartment hunting. Lordy, how I HATE apartment hunting. If any of you know of an amazing, somewhat large apartment in SF for a reasonable price with parking, pet-friendly, I will love you forever. If said apartment happens to come with a dishwasher, I will love you forever AND cook you a big dinner.

hmmmm

I'm drunk. Really drunk. Like, smoked a cigarette drunk.

But I passed. That's all that matters right now.



The spins.

I have the spins.

But really, fuck the spins.



I passed.

That's all that matters.

I passed.

what is it with me and the freaking neighbors?

My neighbors here in SF, I must tell you, SUCK ASS.

That is all. My drunk ass is now moving toward the bed. And frankly, I seem to be able to type better with one eye open and one yeye closed. So that's what you bitches are getting this evening is a one-eyed trashed mo-fo who "tentatively passed" the mofoing bar tonight...at least until the paper results come out tomorrow. Or whenever.

Fuck.

It's time for bed. No more demon alcohol.

Negative Ghostrider. The pattern is full.

Three more days. Three more days. Three more days.

Holy moly.

All the news that's fit to print.

My nerves, in all their glory, have made an encore appearance. Case in point: spontaneously bursting into tears today. Yep, pretty much reverting to my pre-exam state.

Ayyyyeeeee matey.

Sometime in September, an associate warned me that no matter how confident you were in the month of August, come November you'd be convinced you failed. Completely. Utterly. Failed.

Well, the calendar says November. And he's right.

So, to lift the collective spirit of bar-waiters everywhere, I though I would reprint a joke. It's seasonally appropriate (although pirates are always appropriate, dontcha think?). It was shared with me on the eve of the bar exam by the most lovely two-timer I've never had the pleasure of meeting.


A pirate walks into a bar.

The bartender says, "Hey, do you know you have a steering wheel down your pants?"

The pirate says, "ARRRG, and it's drivin' me nuts!"

Maintaining a state of suspicious alertness.

Some of you might be wondering what I'm up to, since I haven't been posting anything here. In the last few weeks, I have:

0) Missed my husband like nobody's business. It's much more fun when he's around.
1) Been working, yo.
2) Seen the "Jarhead" trailer no less than four million times. Hence the title of this post. I also have a sudden inclination to read strange fact patterns at work and exclaim "hoo-rah."
3) Figured out that in order to get my hands on true, non-waxed, organic Washington apples I will be driving to Whole Foods in SOMA roughly 2.5 times a week. Damn you Washington state with your addictive apples. To think I always took great apples for granted.
4) Mastered the art of cooking for one. I have reverted to college cookery - grilled cheese sandwiches, salad from a bag, and mounds of those Dole fruit cups from Costco.
5) Realized that part of the art of cooking for one is knowing when to stop feeling guilty and just throw away the half-used loaf of stale bread.
6) Made new friends.
7) Felt homesick and missed old friends.
8) Pondered whether my ongoing low-grade cold has anything to do with the ongoing, low-grade stress of the bar, moving, and missing my husband. Or, it could have something to do with seeing the Jarhead trailer every 10 minutes while watching baseball on Fox.

Hoo-rah.

Murphy is a beyotch

Murphy's Law = the day you cancel your Comcast appointment for high speed internet, the neighbor decides to put a security key on his wireless signal.

Apologies for the silence - I'm still working on putting together another blog, and will email you directly with the address when it all comes to pass. That's all for tonight - gotta do some surfing and catch up with all I've been missing out on these last two weeks.

Duh.

I'm a complete idiot. I managed to lose the box of fabric softener in my apartment. Keep in mind, my apartment is roughly the size of a (very) small dorm room. I spent 10 minutes looking in every cabinet, cubby, and storage box around. Nothing doing.

Until I looked in my laundry basket.

Is this a sign that I should be applying for FEMA?

Honeymoon's over

I still love my firm. However, they have a blogging policy. The policy can be summed up as "if you've got a problem, take it to us, not the internet." So, in light of that policy, I think I would be wise to shut this baby down.

I'll still update you on the end results of the bar experience, but no more semi-regular updates. I'm thinking about starting a blog for friends and family, so if you'd like to tag along shoot me an email or comment and I'll send you the info.

Honeymoon

I love my firm. That is all.

Girls! Girls! Girls!

You know you've arrived in this world when you get to walk by Larry Flynt's Hustler Club each and every morning on the way to work.