What else can I say...

So it looks like the train wreck that has been my 3+ year journey from law school neophyte to wizened bar exam failee may or may not come to a close tonight. Either way, this has been one strange ride.

Although I may post later this afternoon, I just want to take this opportunity to thank my fellow bloggers for sharing their experiences moving through this mess. The total lack of information out there for those who find themselves having to repeat the bar is stunning. Until blogs, there was nothing that cataloged with any degree of depth just how isolating and emotionally devastating failing the bar can be. To be able to read how other people were dealing with this never failed to help keep things in perspective. Finally, a big thank you is in order to the readers who managed to stumble onto this blog and for everyone who took the time to write comments and emails over the last couple of months.

At this point all I can say is that I’m wishing everyone in the California bar exam blogosphere - readers and bloggers alike - nothing but the best of luck tonight!

Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst

Studied Ignorance posted earlier on the issue of checking results alone or with others. Personally, I’m going to go with a plan similar to hers, with a few minor variations.

For the first time in months, I re-read my posts written immediately after failing and was instantly reminded of just how miserable that evening was. Although I did prepare for potentially bad news by getting fall down drunk, this did little other then somewhat mute the general shittiness of the evening. But as bad as the evening was, I think it would have been much worse had I elected to check results with a group.

I have a friend who got together with his study group to have drinks and check results together. Unfortunately for both him and the group, he was the one present who failed. Needless to say, it turned out to be a pretty shitty evening for him even though the group did everything they could to console him, and keep their celebrations to a minimum.

Tonight, I’m going to pack my survival kit for tomorrow, largely consisting of hotel size bottles of scotch, a pack of smokes, a bottle of Tylenol, and an energy bar. I’m guessing that my tolerance for the real world (i.e., work) will be exhausted by lunchtime, at which point I’m going to develop a sudden case of stomach flue, and then proceed to the nearest outdoor bar where I’ll pretend to read a book, chain smoke, and hope that the afternoon passes somewhat quickly.

I've been dreading the momentary pause that comes after hitting the submit button but before the the results page appears for far longer then I'd care to think about. Whether I pass or fail, I'll call my parents, and then send a text message to the few people I know who also took the exam. Either way, I'm guessing that I'll have the mother of all hangovers on Saturday.

Wearing thin

A commenter from the last post pointed to two of the more irritating questions that I’m sure we have all been getting as Friday rapidily approaches:

Damn straight about it being a crapshoot. That's my standard response for all the a-holes who ask "How do you think it went? Did you feel better than last time?" (I love a lot of these people but am ready to take swings at them when they ask me those questions.)

To what should be a running list of banned questions and/or comments I’d add “are you nervous,” and that class of anecdotes invariably involving someone’s uncle who had a cousin who had a friend who failed three plus times only to end up making millions as a dog bite attorney, or some shit like that. I’m also growing tired hearing the endless tidbits of trivia involving the former dean of Stanford, JFK, Hillary Clinton, Antonio Villaraigosa, or any other public figure who previously failed the bar.

I realize that it must be extraordinarily hard to relate to a relative, close friend, or whomever concerning something as arcane and obtuse as failing the bar. I always try to give the most noncommittal answers possible when placed in a corner and forced to talk about the bar. I know that 99% of the questions, comments, and unsolicited advice are probably made with the best of intentions, but whatever level of patience I once had for these naïve, albeit, well meaning questions is wearing awfully thin at this stage of the game.

Tension

I feel neither worried nor excited, just tense. Someone once said that tension is anticipation and uncertainty, I think this sums it up perfectly. Too much water has passed under the proverbial bridge for me to feel any other way. I can’t be excited, because according to the game of chance, you can't be certain that you passed, and indeed would be foolhardy to claim, much less believe, that you had in fact done so.

I do feel a glimmer of optimism that the stars might align this time around and grease my entry into official attorneydom. I did feel better prepared both in terms of mastery of the content, but more importantly, that I had a better understanding of the exam behind the exam, or what the examiners actually look for. I came out of this last examine feeling that I wouldn’t be surprised to find that I eventually had passed.

On the other hand, I wouldn’t be surprised if I failed. I feel like I sort of sleepwalked through the first morning. I feel like I hit all the major areas, but am unsure to what degree I might have merely shuffled through them. I found the MBEs more difficult in relation to last year’s exam, but chalk this up to aftermath of the PMBR infringement lawsuit that likely forced the NCBE to re-write their questions. I felt that the third day was my best by far. By sheer dumb luck, I had spent a bit of time the night before going over the subject areas tested in July just to cover my ass in case they re-tested anything. I guess I got lucky, but I’m not sure that this was enough to make up for two decidedly lackluster evidence and corporations essays.

As far as I’m concerned, the PTs could go either way. I didn’t exactly feel like time was on my side during both afternoon sessions and thus have no idea how I did, or how well I might have hit whatever issues they were looking for.

My biggest fear concern the fact that my computer fucked up several times during the exam. Although they reassured me repeatedly that my exam wouldn’t be composed of a ream of unspoiled blank pages, I have about as much faith in the exam software support and bar exam personnel as I would in trying to watch Bush try to manage his way out of a paper bag.

So, I feel that weird nervous energy that can only come from waiting for the end result of what, in my mind at least, seemingly amounts to a giant crapshoot.

The waiting game

My second countdown towards results has been nerve wracking as hell. Sometimes the days pass quickly, on others I feel like I’m waiting to learn if the State Bar of California has decided to grant my clemency application or whether they’ll use me to blow through a few fuses with Old Sparky.

Obviously things could be much worse - I’ll spare you the Honigsberg-style lecture on how we could all be born in a malaria infested, war-torn country without arms or legs and forced to walk uphill both ways... Nevertheless, its been hard to cut through the waves of panic and dread to think of anything but the 25^th of May. I’m sick of the waiting game, sick of the bar dominating virtually every facet of my life, and ready to move on and away from this shit once and for all.

What Legis said...

Legis recently responded to my questions below concerning job prospects after multiple attempts. If you haven't read the post, much her blog, I highly recommend doing so. Its a welcome addition to the otherwise total lack of information concerning how failing may, or may not, affect individuals in our positions moving forward.

Student loans run amok

Don’t know if any of you caught this, but yesterday the New York Times wrote an article about private student loans and culinary schools. These passages jumped out at me:

[W]ould-be top chefs face a challenge that most lawyers, engineers or nurses do not: few jobs in their chosen field pay enough for them to retire their student loans. As a result, as many as 11 percent of graduates at some culinary schools are defaulting on federal student loans. The national average for all students last year was roughly half that, at 5.1 percent.

* * *

Many of the schools offer two-year programs where the total tuition and supply costs can reach $48,000. Only a slice of that is covered by low-interest federal loans. For example, the most that students in two-year programs can currently borrow in federal loans is $14,125.

So many of them seek money from banks that are usually recommended by the school. The terms on some of these private loans can quickly get a young person with little borrowing experience into financial trouble.

Mr. Park said that when he and his mother met with a financial-aid counselor at the school, they were told that his payments on his private loan, from Sallie Mae, would be about $250 a month. But his first bill after graduation was for more than twice that, said his mother, Elise McClain, an English professor in Florida. They twice requested payment deferments while he looked for a job but when they began repaying the loan, both his principal and his monthly payment had risen again. The balance is now $46,198.88 at just over 16 percent interest.

The private student loan industry is practically begging for regulation. The fact that some of them are charging 16% interest on tuition towards a career that pays so little is totally insane. I’m all for making money, but certainly not on the backs of students at 10-16% interest...