Remember that bar exam I took back in February? Well, guess what? The freaking results are out! But first, some back-story: After I completed the last portion of the exam, I had to fill out an information card. One of the questions asked where I wanted to have all future exam-related correspondence mailed, and I assumed this included my test results. Scores were going to be sent out approximately 12 weeks after the exam, and since I knew I’d be back in California by then I, of course, put down my California address. The results weren’t scheduled to be released on any specific date, but I figured I’d find out sometime in May because that’s when previous February exam scores were released. And I already had an idea of how that fateful day was going to play out: Okay, I don’t know for sure if I’d be throwing the envelope aside in favor of watching an episode of “Cops,” but I know I would not tear it open the moment I received it. I’ve been dreading this day ever since I took the exam. I didn’t study as hard as I should have; I didn’t do any practice exams; I half-assedly went through a multiple choice workbook–there was no way that envelope contained anything more than a “FAIL!” notice and a b*tch slap. I was sure this was inevitable outcome, and it was probably going to ruin my day. So I planned to put off the whole finding-out-my-fate thing until I had, like, giant elephantiasis balls–or at least balls that were so big they could cushion the beat-down of failure. But waiting it out was most likely going to be difficult… Damn you, talking envelope! Damn you! I’d eventually have to open up the envelope though, because I don’t think my parents or friends would accept hearing excuses like, “I didn’t receive it yet, even though it’s December 2011,” or “I think one of the cats ate it,” or even, “There’s no such thing as a bar exam–stop smoking crack!” But before I did anything, I’d try to purge the aura of failure from the envelope! First, I would give it a human sacrifice! Or, rather, a Hunan chicken sacrifice because human sacrifice = prison. Then I’d bless it with holy water! I had been playing this scenario over and over again in my head, and was expecting all these things to happen–right down to the creepy talking envelope. The only thing left now was to wait for my results to show up in the mail. And then my dad called: He sounded distressed, like something really bad had happened…
Did I just hang up on my dad? OMG! I hung up on my dad! Why did the bar people mail it to my parents’ house?! I wrote down my California address on the card! The results were supposed to be mailed to me so I could grow giant balls, do a Hunan sacrifice, and bless it with holy water! Now everything was messed up and completely out of my control! And on top of all that, my dad was calling me back…
I hung up on my dad again! I am the worst daughter ever! And again, my dad called me back. Posted 5/13/2010 at 4:58 PM
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Thursday May 13, 2010
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