Walk this Way

Our bar review course suggested that we stick to a healthy diet and get some exercise to help relieve some stress during bar study. I'm doing my best to comply. Let's face it, I wasn't exactly the poster child for healthy living my 3 years in law school. But I'm trying to turn that around. The parents and I are trying to walk every night. Tonight I put in my 4 miles in 1 hour. Hopefully I can stick with that this week and maybe increase it by a mile next week. Depends on how much perseverence I have.

We do our walking up at the high school and middle school because there's a way that if you walk the right pattern, you walk 2 miles without having to do laps. Though there's a walking path at the Jesus Town park, about 90% of the Jesus Town walks at the high school.

Tonight, I saw a sight that took me back a few years. There were at least 2 cars that kept braking suddenly and never got over about 5 miles per hour. Then I figured it out. They were learning how to drive in the parking lot with their parents. I recognized the sight because that's how I learned. It was a moment until I realized that that was 12 years ago. Then I got all depressed and tried not to think about it.

Color Me Employed

I got a call tonight that can be summed up in 2 words:

Job
Offer

That's right kiddies, I got a job. And color me ecstatic. It's with a firm that I've been interviewing with over the past two weeks, which I absolutely adore. And I couldn't be happier that I can stop stressing about it and just focus on the bar.

I'm still crossing my fingers for my fellow job seekers out there. It's gonna happen, I'm sure of it.

Incidentally, this will be the one and only post about my job, because I've decided that if I keep blogging it will be all non-law related. Not that there was much law to it to begin with. So basically, nothing will change.

Except there's likely to be fewer Jesus Town posts in the future, as I'll be moving out soon to my own apartment. It will be the Mom and the Dad's job to keep the Jesus Town alive on this blog. I have faith.

I'm my own Grandpa.

Ok, I know a lot of people will disagree with me on this, but I find a 57 year old great-grandmother giving birth to her own twins to be wrong. Biologically, I don't think we're supposed to have great-grandkids who are older than our children.

The article says that the couple has a 6 year old son and had in vitro to get pregnant with the twins so that the 6 year old won't grow up an only child. To which I thought: There are worse things in life than being an only child. Say having your parents pass the average life expectancy before your high school graduation.

And while I'm on my soap box, I've heard many older women use the argument that men can have children later in life, and there's no stigma, so why not them. I can think of no less than a dozen reasons, but I'll only name a few. (1)a man doesn't carry a child so he doesn't suffer the physical consequences on his body, (2) when 80 year old men have kids they usually do so with a 30-40 year old woman so if the man dies, the woman is still there to care for the children, (3) when a 60 year old woman has a child, her husband is generally her age or older, so the chances of one spouse surviving past the child's age of majority are decreased.

I'll stop there on in writing, but the reasons go on in my head.

The Commenter hath Died

Long live the boring poster.

Star Wars Comment: With a small spoiler.

Ok, if you've not seen Ep III yet, and don't want to know a small spoiler, stop reading now. You've been warned.



I was reading a forum on IMDB, and someone posed the question of how Darth Vader knew that Luke and Leia were his children since at the end of the movie Vader is not sure whether his child survives, and isn't aware that there were even twins. One response made me laugh so hard I had to share.

Credit to Memnoch_TP on imdb forums.

"Vader's wife was very pregnant when she died 19 years ago. All of a sudden a 19 year old who is very strong in the force and has a distinct resembalance to him in his younger days rolls in from Vader's home planet with his old Master Obi-Wan (Who was the ONLY other person preset at the time his wife died. And to boot, the kid's last name is Skywalker.

So in answer to your question, he knew Luke was his son because his name is Darth Vader, and not Darth Retard."

The Painful Truth

All of this week, I've been attending the PMBR study course preparing for the multi-state potion of the bar. In the morning, we take a 50 question multiple choice test, and then you grade it and are disappointed about how you really don't know anything. I've been averaging between 40 and 45% on the exams so far, which I'm told is normal. I also haven't really been trying too hard because they spend 3 hours telling us what we need to know, so I'm not putting forth my best effort.

The sis and I were returning from a trip to Walmart, and I mentioned how I had to drive to Indy tomorrow for my last class, which happens to be property. And she asks me why I hate property so much or why I find it so hard. And I explained that I haven't had any property classes since 1st year, and that the topic never really whipped me into a frenzy.

The sis doesn't quite understand since her life is property. She's never been to law school, but has spent the last 5 years working as a title researcher and abstractor. I mentioned to her that I had all of these multiple choice questions that she could try her hand at if she felt up to it. So, never having attended a law class, she sat down and answered the first 10 questions in the property section. And when graded, she got 8 correct, i.e. an 80%.

What I learned from this: 3 years law school = 40%. 5 years real life non-law experience = 80%. Go figure.

TWOP quote of the week.

I love Television Without Pity [aka TWOP for those down with the lingo.] I was just checking recaps for some of my shows and saw that they recapped the new Spears/Federline disaster white trash-athon show on UPN. [It is with much joy that the Jesus Town does not have UPN on the cable network.] And like a bad train wreck I had to see what they were saying about the Britster. The recap ended with this jewel.

"And then there are the closing credits; in a better world, Kevin Federline would not be the "Executive Producer" of anything but a myriad of unloved babies from different trashy women."

Let the Wookie Win

6 years ago, when Episode I came out, my sister and I took the bro to the first showing as part of his high school graduation present. We even stood outside the theatre for an hour beforehand so that we could get good seats, even though we already had our tickets.

3 years ago, we went on opening day, but at a more decent hour. Then about a month ago, the sis and the bro start talking about how we have to carry on "this tradition" and go on opening day again. I guess I didn't realize it was tradition, but whatever.

So we went tonight, and I'm happy to report that Episode III is much better than the last two. Hopefully Hayden won't be railed for his acting again. It's a shame more people haven't seen "Life as a House" where he really shines. But this time, people may actually think he's more of an actor.

It goes without saying that the bro has a lot more Star Wars knowledge than the sis or I. Which I think is pretty typical of males. A few years ago during a snow storm he took me on marathon of the first 3 movies and explained all my question along the way. So I've got a pretty good handle on things. My sister, not so much. We're walking out of the theater and all around us I can hear people talking about Darth Siddius and Mace Windu, etc etc, and the sis is trying to explain something about the movie that she thought was dumb. I overhear her and she's saying, "you know, that head dark guy, the leader of the bad guys."

Apparently she's not one for the Star Wars terminology.

My Two Moms

We put a graduation announcement in the local paper to announce my graduation and reception that is being held tomorrow. It ended with, "Heidi is the daughter of [The Mom] and [The Dad], of Jesus Town, Indiana." Except in typical Jesus Town Paper fashion, they misprinted it and left a letter out of my dad's name. Thus his male name became a female one.

Luckily, I haven't left the house much this week so it hasn't been brought up to me. But my sister sure has enjoyed the barbs from her friends and coworkers. Shocking that such a conservative town would tolerate the implication.

The dangerous lives of cats.

This post has a happy ending. I promise.

The Jesus Town Times has been plastered with stories of the fire I posted on the other day. This evening, a special article was dedicated to the family's cat, which I've interspersed with info from my brother-in-law for this post. Apparently when the fire was burning, the family kept directing firefighters to where they thought the cat would be hiding. But with the explosions and backdrafts, they were unable to keep searching, and the family was heartbroken.

Cut to a day later when the family and the firefighters entered the house to salvage some items. While rummaging through a bedroom, someone stumbled upon the cat. She had chewed a hole into the bottom of the box springs and crawled up into it. And survived. When they pulled her out, her whiskers and eyeleashes had been burnt off, but other than that, she was in great shape. And the family was pleased.

The family has said that they're renaming the cat. She's now called 2.5. They said this is because they figured that's how many of her 9 lives she has left since they're certain she used at least 6 of them in the fire.

Pet Peeve #383

The word is especially.
It is not exspecially.
Nor is it ecspecially.

Let's say it all together now.

Surreality

I just got back from graduation a little while ago. And it doesn't really seem real. It kinda felt like going through the motions, albeit wearing enough material to clothe a small village.

But it was great seeing everyone, and I was trying not to think about how it is one of the last times we would be all together like that. Deb gave an amazing speech, and I got to sit between two of my close friends. So life is good.

Now I have a week of break before bar review, and I'm planning on sleeping in and watching the entire 3rd season of my Gilmore Girls dvds before week's end. I also need to consolidate loans, clean the house, list my law school books on amazon, mass mail my resume, create and mail invites for my open house, etc, etc. Maybe this isn't such a vacation after all.

Keeping them under wraps.

I went to a graduation party for a couple of my cousins tonight. It was quite a show as everyone ran around taking pictures and such. The mom and I had great seats from the couch. At one point, my great aunt was trying to take a picture and was going on and on about her camera. Her son was checking with her to make sure she was using the flash, and her response was, "I'm going to flash you in a second."

I tried to bite my lip to keep from laughing as I turned to the mom prayed that she didn't.

Burn Baby Burn

I've mentioned before that my brother-in-law is a volunteer firefighter. Which means he has all the glory and none of the pay. Usually his duties include directing traffic at accidents within his township, but occassionally he gets the much coveted structure fire. Last night was such a night.

The sis calls me at some point last night to inform me that he had called her a few minutes before, prefacing the call with, "I'm alright but you might hear some rumors so I wanted you to hear it from me first." Apparently while fighting the blaze, something exploded in the house and caused chaos. The Jesus Town paper described it as such:

A half hour after several responders from numerous fire departments arrived, a thunderous boom was followed by the sound of shattering glass as the house exploded, its doors hurtling outward as shattered window glass flew outward and the roof caved inward. During the explosion, a firefighter who was up on a ladder was knocked to the ground. The firefighter got up, but it was not immediately clear if he sustained any injuries from the impact or debris.

Said firefighter was the brother-in-law. He apparently was 10 feet up on the ladder, which for him is still a bit much because he hates heights. Apparently the injury from the fall wasn't as big as the injury to his face. He tends to not wear his face shield down when outside of the house, and the backdraft burned his face, burned his eyebrows off, melted his eyelashes together, and caused some as of yet undetermined eye injury. Nothing really serious.

And though I haven't talked to him, I'm quite certain he's proud of his battle scars. He's always wanted to be a full fledged firefighter, but those jobs are few and far between in rural midwest. So he takes anything he can get.

Anyway, the brother-in-law has yet to determine if he will be able to attend graduation on Sunday. His work schedule may interfere with his strong desire to show up and embarrass me in any way possible. But if you see someone there that is practically glowing in the dark, follow the trail and I'm sure it leads to me.

DONE!

Need I say more?

Party Like You Deserve It

Friday morning is my last final. Ever. And it is for several other people. So in the grand old tradition, we're going out afterward to celebrate. So far Kelly P, Deb, and I are in and up for anything, but we're going public in an attempt to get others to join us. (Public in the manner that only about 10 people read this blog). Tentative plans are that we're going to meet in the atrium after our finals at 12:30 on Friday. All our welcome, but non-graduating students (if any actually read this blog) may expect to be hounded to buy drinks for the graduates. I cannot be held responsible for other's actions.

If you are planning on joining us and want us to keep an eye out for you in the atrium, shoot me an email. My school address is my first initial and my last name. If you don't know how to spell my last name, look it up in the stalker book. If you don't have a stalker book, you can access it here if you login with your student ID. If you don't have a student ID, stop stalking me. If you don't have any clue what my last name is, email Deb or Kelly P as they are infinitely more recognizable than me and you're more likely to know who they are.

Anyway, cheers to all and hope to see at least some people on Friday.

Smash, wham, bangup job.

I generally like to start the mornings of my exams relatively stress free. So far, I haven't had much luck with this. First it was the migraine on Saturday morning, and today it was a car accident. Though I hate to use the word "accident".

I was getting off of the interstate, and stopped at a red light. It was one of those where after you stop and check, you can turn left since it's a one way to a one way. So I stopped to check, and the taxi driver behind me didn't. Not much of a hit, but just a little jolt.

But I get out of the car, look, and of course there's not any damage to my plastic bumper, and none to his. We exchange info, and in the process, one of his taxi friends shows up. And I'm guessing that guy spotted the "school of law" license plate holder on my car. He insists that we call the cops.

And of course he has no phone, and wants me to call. I have no numbers for the cops, and it's 45 minutes until my exam starts. So we have to call 911. And my 911 call was really nice. "Hi, uh, we've had an accident, well not really an accident, but there were no injuries, and there's no damage, but the other guy is insisting on calling, etc etc." She transfers me to the state cops.

Go through the same routine with the staties, and then we wait. And wait. And statie shows up with 20 minutes till my exam. And he tells the guy what I told him before. We can exchange info, or sit and file a report, even though there's no damage. I opt for exchange of info, and the guy reluctantly agrees. Since I'm the one rear-ended, unless I file something, nothing is going to happen, but I can understand the paranoia. So the cop leaves, and as I get back in my car, the taxi driver is taking pictures of my car and his car, which , admittedly, is a good idea. But no matter how many times I assure him everything is fine and there is no damage, he's still looking at me like I'm ready to whip out the lawsuit right there. The reputation of lawyers.

Ironically, the taxi driver was of foreign descent, and I'm assuming he was an immigrant. And I was on the way to my immigration exam. Coincidence?

Last minute graduation prep.

I picked up my cap and gown today. I'm happy to report that I can fit myself, along with the 10 family members accompanying me to graduation inside my gown.

Tonight, I need to call the voicemail of our assistant dean to leave a message pronouncing my name. She sent out an email saying that if we have difficult names to leave them "5 or 6 times" on her voicemail. I've already come up with all sorts of words that rhyme with my name to leave. By the end of the night, she'll be able to say my name in her sleep.

I didn't order graduation announcements, so in usual tradition, I have to make my own and mail them out. I don't really care except that we're having an open house in a few days, and we can't really rely on the Jesus Paper to acurrately get the word out. So it's the old fashioned way for me.

That's all for now.

Hey lady, what's your color?

Some of my friends are always saying that they see people in colors. I'm not sure if this has anything to do with "auras" and the like. But I'm wide awake (the result of the overdosing on caffiene to get rid of this weekend's migraine) and I took one of those "what color is your aura" tests. And here is my results:

We don't need a psychic to tell us that you're giving off a Emerald vibe. Your bright, refreshing, grass-green aura tells us that you're a relaxed person with a laid-back attitude. Into living a healthy lifestyle — from eating right to trying yoga and aromatherapy — you're down-to-earth and always easy-going. You bring calm and peace with you wherever you go. A bit of a flower child, you're as unpretentious and open-minded as they come. Everyone is invited to your party. Chances are you have quite the green thumb, too, as well as a knack for healing people — both emotionally and physically. Sensitive and compassionate, you're as reliable as the earth and as natural as herbal tea and organic vegetables.
You may have adult Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), a condition your doctor can help treat. Take a brief screener to find out if you may have the symptoms. Visit AdultADD.com.

Wow that's amazing. I don't think it could have been more wrong. I think every single line in that is the exact opposite of me. Maybe I'm a closeted tree hugger? And I love the last line. I know it's supposed to be an ad, but it's just right there and reads like part of my profile.

Finals are a pain in the neck.

[Edited to note that I typed this post before I read about Kelly P.'s weekend headache. There must be something in the water.]

I went to bed on Friday night with a headache, and woke up on Saturday morning at 4 a.m. with a full on migraine. Which was convenient since I had to get up at 6 to make it to a final by 9. After a few excedrine migraine pills, a heat pack, and laying on the couch with my head hanging off the end, it was still raging at 5:30. Have you ever seen one of those medical shows where the guy is rushed to the emergency room with a knife sticking out of his skull? I felt like he looked, only more nauseous. It was seriously one of the worst of my life.

Fortunately, my mother has a standing declaration that no matter what time of night it is, I can wake her up so she can try to help me get rid of it. Unfortunately, the mom is at a conference in Texas until Thurs. So at approximately 5:40, I gracefully woke the dad up with my sobbing and wailing and snot running down my face. It was really a shining moment for me.

But the dad served as a good fill in, but everything we tried didn't work. Several stretching exercises, this stuff called "Biofreeze" on my shoulder muscles, and still no luck. But after a good shower and a nap, it had subsided enough that I could drive to school and take my final. And thankfully, I wasn't taking a 6 hour tax exam final.

All is well however. A few more hours of nausea, but I survived. The last time I had one of these this bad, it was brought on by a friend named Pinot Grigio. This one I'm certain was the result of 31 hours in front of my computer over the course of 3 days. So I've been taking a break from the computer this weekend. But it's back to the grind tomorrow for my 2 remaining finals.

I just keep reminding myself this is the last time ever I will have to do this.