it took me this long to get close enough to a computer to
get myself to write this journal. during that time, i tried
to come up with the best adjective possible to describe the
bar. surprisingly that didn't take very long. "grueling"
that's what it was, i thought to myself as i painfully
climbed up the last hill of my neighborhood in the biggest
heat wave the city had seen. it is fucking grueling.
yet the thing that i dreaded the most, about this test that
held such swway over my life was that i would have to be
grouped with 999 other type-A, paranoid sociopaths for what
was known as the "registration process."
now imagine yourself in a room with chipmunks. you've seen
a chipmunk out in the wild...it's not a happy creature.
that bitch is looking left and right, with his little heart
rate racing a million miles a minute damn near 23 hours a
day. now give this chipmunk some stimulants...oh say,
cocaine or coffee. now put the biggest damn acorn it has
ever seen in front of the chipmunk. then you will
understand the magnitude of the "registration process."
we all bumped into lines uncomfortably (the convention
center, of course, being way too small to hold this many nut
jobs) trying to jostle our ways into our respective
Alphabetic sortation. and i knew, i knew, and i knew that
no matter what line i was in. i would have some assclown
try to jimmy his way up to the front of the line by cutting.
yet little did i expect that such assclown would be what
appeared to be a 60 year old man.
and as i had expected some girl next to us (she had been
line enforcer for the past 5 minutes) would call him out.
now think about that for one moment. how many times in real
life have you called someone out for cutting in line? or
doing something else that should really only be a minor
inconvenience yet seems to be the greatest affront to your
hell how many times have you ever seen ANYONE call someone
out? exactly. never. so that's what i'm going with. so
he get's called out and he turns to the girl and says:
"hey sweetie, are you here taking the bar or are you just
offering moral support to your boyfriend here?"
i cannot put into words what happened next. wait, yeah i can.
Line falls silent.
Girl's jaw drops.
Man starts laughing.
Girl blows up, screaming at him for the next 10 minutes
while he serenely moves up the line.
and that my friends, is registration process.
the exam itself was GRUELING. 9 essays a day, from 8 until
4 pm with an 1 1/2 breaks (1 hour lunch, half hour break).
the most excruciating moment was when we had our exams in
front of us, the second hand was ticking towards 8 and the
proctor kept on saying; "now don't open your exam books
of course the true entertainment came from the fact that we
used computers. well the software we use locks down your
computer and boots you up in a quasi-safe mode. well the
problem is htat, as reliable as the program is, it will
inevitably fuck up.
now it's a mother-fucker when your cmoputer freezes up. Now
imagine that freezing up during the biggest moment of your
there weren't nearly enough tecchies there to take care of
this in time. people we f-r-e-a-k-i-n-g out. going so far
as to yell in the room, which was always followed by a swift
and stern acknowledgement by the proctor. the poor tech
guys were running around like world athletes while getting
screamed at by irate law students. i really hope those
guys were paid a million dollars to deal with that bullshit.
but now it's over. here i am, not a care in the world.
other than of course needing a job. but for right now, just
this very moment,i feel that i am better off enjoying what
may be my last month of true freedom in a while.