89 Days and Counting

So I have 89 days left until I get to repeat what was previously the three most enjoyable days of my life. I can't begin to explain how little I am looking forward to the month of February. I feel like I'm about to have my parole revoked as I will be forced, yet again, to immerse myself in the wonderful world of 13+ (depending on how you count certain subjects like crim and crim pro) of what are now my least favorite academic subjects of all time. Not knowing what else to do, I started downloading the PMBR cds onto my iPod. I've tried to listen to some of the stuff, but after about 3 seconds, utter boredom sets in and I start to daydream about anything but the lecture, thereby negating whatever benefit I might derive by listening to Daniel Fessler's discourse on the vagaries of consideration. I guess this weekend I'll start getting organized. This in all likelihood won't involve much effort on my part, probably just print out some outlines and put them in a binder or something. Although I get that gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach from just thinking about the bar, it still seems to far off to really start doing anything about it. I'd probably feel better if I did something, but then again, I don't want to burn myself out and have to repeat this fiasco a third time.

Thanksgiving - the Aftermath

Actually, despite my dire predictions, Thanksgiving wasn't the looming disaster I predicted it to be. Granted, I got really drunk and remember very little of the evening. But the the good thing is I haven't heard any stories about me making an ass of myself either. I also don't remember being barraged with questions about the bar, which was great. If I had to guess, someone probably made the rounds and told everyone in advance that they shouldn't ask me about it, probably in the same way that they would caution each other not to discuss my predilection for PCP in advance of an intervention, if I were so inclined. Nevertheless, not an entirely terrible night. Could have done without the sweet potato marshmallow surprise - have no idea why someone always insists on bringing that disaster in a casserole dish - but the single malt scotch that I so generously helped myself to, was superb.

Thanksgiving

Until this week, Thanksgiving was probably my favorite holiday. Now, I can't wait for it to be over. I'm already preparing myself for the barrage of cringe inducing questions involving all things bar related. A close relative, who did happen to pass the bar, will also be there, and I can't wait to be stuck in the same room with her while she gets peppered with congratulations and "are you glad its over" and other inane questions centering around what it feels like to finally be an attorney. I have a feeling that I'll be plastered with the type of sympathy one receives after being fucked out of all his money and then having to auction off a kidney to pay off credit card debt accrued to get in at the bottom of some new pyramid scheme, or what I imagine one would get after learning on national television that your wife cheated on you with the entire hockey team. More akin to the "sucks to be you" category of sympathy made while privately snickering behind my back.

I feel like I'm damned if I do show up, and damned if I don't. If I do show up, I'm pretty certain that it will be a fairly humiliating experience, but if I don't go I know it will only add fodder to fire of faux sympathy and allow them to talk about how poorly I'm handling this and "isn't it a shame he didn't feel up to joining us this year." So I'll take my lumps and show up, doubtlessly well on my way towards getting plastered, and hope that the night mercifully passes somewhat quickly.

So What Do You Think Happened?

By far and away, this is the question I get most often. It's also really starting to get on my nerves. Obviously I failed the bar, what the fuck do they think happened? If they are hoping to receive an extended discourse by me, eminent bar failure extraordinaire, concerning the various pitfalls that I assume resulted in my failure, then they most certainly should not hold their breath. I always answer that I have no idea what happened, and that I won’t know until December 11 (somehow I think December 7th would have been a more fitting day to release the tests), while pledging to myself that even if I did know what had happened, I certainly wouldn't tell whoever is asking. Those individuals raised with good manners and possessing a modicum of social grace always leave it at that. On the other hand, bottom feeding cretins invariably insist on posing a follow- up question along the lines of, “but what do you really think went wrong?” To whom I can only respond, “hell if I know.” I'm guessing that this answer will eventually evolve into something more succinct involving the words 'fuck' and 'off.'

I wish I could say that I was struck down with an exotic disease that prevented me from completing my test, or that I encountered one of the myriad doomsday scenarios meticulously outlined by Professor Von Schnickelfritz (or whatever his name was) during the course of his otherwise less than stellar homilies on the joys of the performance test and how to avoid the various meteorological phenomena and encounters with sleeping pills that have previously felled hapless bar takers. Nor did my computer fuck up like everyone else around me, so I can’t blame it on the piece of shit that I obtained in response to the “special 1L discount,” which doubtlessly resulted in some sort of kick back to the administration’s Hawaii slush fund so that the dean and his entourage could engage in some serious team-building exercises in order to devise new ways to screw hapless law students out of their loan checks.

Nevertheless, I have to say that I’m starting to wonder myself. At this point, if I had to guess I would say that it was the contracts essay that most likely put my name in the do-over category. But then again it could have had something with the fact that the actual multiple choice questions had little to do with anything PMBR or Bar/Bri threw at me. No sense in over analyzing this one, at least until the mandarins who run the clusterfuck that is the Bar allow me to plunk down an additional eleven dollars plus however much it costs to get the damn form notarized so that I can see how I did on a test that I had previously paid a small fortune to take in the first place. Stay tuned, I guess….

Day 4 - What Next?

After arriving at work today I was immediately ushered into my supervisor’s office to discuss “my future at the firm.” I spent the weekend more or less dreading this moment, as I was pretty sure that I would be unemployed by Monday afternoon. I work for a small law firm that operates in a highly specialized area of the law. I was expecting to continue working as an associate after the bar, but also had the distinct impression that I would lose my job should I manage to fail the bar.

Fortunately, I learned this morning that I wouldn’t be let go and that they will continue to pay for my health insurance and gym membership when I take time off to study for the February exam. Naturally, this brought up a whole new line of questions that I had tried to avoid during the weekend. What the hell am I going to do about studying for the bar a second time?

They asked me if I was going to take time off or work part time, I have no idea. I spent the morning on the train trying to figure out if I wanted to try to find an alternative career and avoid re-writing the bar. This idea is rather appealing, except for the fact that I’m afraid that I’ll constantly have nagging feelings of failure for the rest of my life. I have no idea what kind of job I could find and also wonder whether not being bar certified would hurt my non-law employment odds or be seen as some sort of intellectual failure on my part. I more or less put this idea to rest, but have no idea what the hell I’m going to do about the February bar.

Do I want/need to take the monumental rip-off otherwise known as Bar/Bri again? The idea of listening to Professor Whitebread say “review Californians review” a million more times is not particularly appealing. But then again, do I really have a choice? And if I do re-do Bar/Bri, should I take the entire time off? My sense, borne out of the sheer desire to never have to do this again, is that I should suck it up and take the entire time off. I don’t know, I need to pony up another small fortune to the California Bar for the privilege of writing this test a second time by the end of the month, but I guess I can figure this one out while tuning out all the advice I’m sure to receive during Thanksgiving dinner.

Day 3 - Depression

Today it’s really starting to sink in, and I feel utterly depressed. Next week I will not be sworn in, or do whatever else one does when they pass the bar. I was really looking forward to finalizing the three-year trip that was law school. But now, the only thing I have to look forward to is even more time with those torture devices better known as contracts and property. Outwardly, I’ve tried to put the best face on the result as possible, but I can’t help but feel like an utter failure.

I’ve begun to regularly answer my phone again, but now consider this a mistake. Everyone is obsessed with telling me stories about people they knew who previously failed the bar and that I shouldn’t worry because they were able to pass the second or third time. This isn’t the best tack to take in their vain efforts to cheer me up given the fact that these same people told me the exact same stories in July to illustrate their beliefs that I shouldn’t worry because everyone they know who failed the bar was idiot and so their failure was more or less a foregone conclusion. Needless to say, I now feel like an idiot as well. So, I’ve once again stopped answering my phone and have no intention of doing so until hell freezes over or the year 2020, whichever comes first.

I also made the mistake of looking at the actual pass list. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it either. It’s demoralizing to see that certain classmates who couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag managed to pass. I’m really starting to dread the idea of potentially having to discuss the finer points concerning my recent failure with friends and family over Thanksgiving dinner. At this point I would rather spend the day at the dentist than have to deal with repeated expressions of concern or questions about what I think might have gone wrong with the test. Being depressed is apparently exhausting as I passed out at 9:00 p.m.

Day 2

The enormity of what had occurred the night before hit me shortly after waking up. Vaguely remember calling my Dad (who is an attorney) last night and delivering the news. Tried to put my best face on and responded with platitudes about picking myself up and studying 20 times harder next time.

Was supposed to celebrate with family that day, but the thought of talking about what had happened the night before seemed far from appealing so I canceled my plans and tried to process the news. If last night I felt numb, this morning I feel like I've been hit over the head with a baseball bat. Searched for my phone, apparently I kicked it under the couch the night before, and discovered that I had 17 new voice mail messages and 10 text messages. Went out that night and got drunk with a recently discovered long-lost friend who had no idea that the bar doesn't involve alcohol.

Day 1

This may have been the longest day of my life. Woke up, went to work and tried to focus on whatever it was I was supposed to do that day. Spent the majority of the afternoon receiving inane emails and text messages about how drunk my fellow classmates were going to get before 6 p.m., and innumerable wishes of good luck.

Couldn't force down my lunch so I went for a drink with a co-worker and tried my best not to think about what was to come. Mostly I remember cursing the California Bar for making me wait all day before releasing the results. I can't imagine that there is a reason for this other than to make 8,000 nervous wrecks squirm a little more. I would like to think that there is a special place in hell reserved for those who are responsible for all things bar related. Started smoking again today and went outside my office to have a smoke. Later, began to vividly recall the contracts essay and individual multiple choice questions and to wonder whether I gave appropriate consideration to the trusts question.

Finally left work and made my way home to sit in front of the computer and watch the countdown clock ever so slowly move towards the moment that always seemed so far off yet too close at the same time. At exactly six o'clock, probably due to the vodka, I felt like I was watching myself from across the room as I calmly entered my file number and hit the enter button. One second, two seconds, three and finally a feeling of utter disbelief as I stared at the phrase "The information that you have entered does not match with a name on the pass list..." Took a shot of vodka and just stared out the window. Never felt so numb in my life.

Despite wishing more than anything that everyone had lost my phone number, began receiving an onslaught of phone calls doubtlessly asking me if I passed. Still feeling numb, I text messaged a few people the news and then turned my phone off. I don't remember the rest of the night...

Introduction

Three days ago I learned that I failed the July 2006 California Bar Exam. In light of the dearth of material for the 48.2% of us that will not be receiving a bar card this month, I've decided to create this blog to write about what is destined to be a long hard road to February.

I guess the purpose of this blog is to catalog what I imagine, if the last three days are any indication, will be three of the shittiest months of my life. To say that my life has been thrown into turmoil as a result of my bar result is an understatement. The last three days have been a truly isolating experience and I hope that a few of you out there, who unfortunately also find themselves in the same situation, will read this blog and identify with what I have to say.