The Day Before
Perhaps not, but someone might be wondering what I'm doing today as I prepare for the exam. There's a section of the Conviser Mini Review about New York Distinctions in all of the areas of law being tested. I'm looking at that. Although it's hard to appreciate the distinctions when I'm not all that knowledgeable about the multistate law that it's distinct from. But I'm hoping some of that sticks. I just went to Duane Reade and bought some pencils, pens, tissues, gallon-sized ziploc bags, and looked for a quiet snack (but didn't end up finding one that looked appealing). When I'm done with the Distinctions section I'll try and memorize some statutes of limitations, because that seems important; probably skim the Evidence section again; watch last night's episodes of Entourage and The Comeback; eat a light dinner; go to sleep really early (hopefully 9:00 or so); wake up nice and early tomorrow; make sure to go to the bathroom; plan to get there about an hour early to watch people freaking out; and from there my fate is in the hands of a higher power.
George Carlin has a routine about how people only watch car racing for the accidents. That may or may not actually be the case, but I feel like I sometimes feel the same way about standardized tests. When I took the LSAT, the proctor failed to give the 5-minute warning on one of the sections. I knew she'd forgotten, because I was keeping track of the time pretty carefully, and I couldn't shake the excitement for those 5 minutes regarding what would happen when she called "time."
As it turned out, nothing happened, except for a few audible gasps, but those five minutes were the most exciting part of the whole test.
There's something so controlled about these situations -- such exact instructions and defined procedures -- that I feel like I just can't help but root for something bizarre to happen. For the test booklets to be misprinted. For the power to go out. For the bathrooms to be broken. Some tiny little thing can throw the whole procedure off, and to watch the proctors try to adjust and figure out how to proceed. On the brink of chaos. I root for stories. The exam itself is likely to be unimaginably boring. Whether I pass or fail -- and I honestly don't know that I've prepared enough to come even close to passing this thing -- I want to have something to talk about, something to write about, something to experience. Nothing truly terrible, of course. I don't want a meningitis outbreak at the test center, or a random wild gunman. But someone waxed the tables the night before and the exam papers won't remain in place? Sure, that could be cool. Someone accidentally locks the door and no one can get out for the lunch break? Absolutely. Someone switches the exam and we have to take it in Turkish? Why not?
P.S. Best of luck to Amber, Chris, WT, JCA, Matt, Gabe, Adam, Andrew, and everyone else (with or without a blog) who's taking this thing. It won't be so bad. At the very worst, you can just join me in South Dakota in February. :)
Perhaps not, but someone might be wondering what I'm doing today as I prepare for the exam. There's a section of the Conviser Mini Review about New York Distinctions in all of the areas of law being tested. I'm looking at that. Although it's hard to appreciate the distinctions when I'm not all that knowledgeable about the multistate law that it's distinct from. But I'm hoping some of that sticks. I just went to Duane Reade and bought some pencils, pens, tissues, gallon-sized ziploc bags, and looked for a quiet snack (but didn't end up finding one that looked appealing). When I'm done with the Distinctions section I'll try and memorize some statutes of limitations, because that seems important; probably skim the Evidence section again; watch last night's episodes of Entourage and The Comeback; eat a light dinner; go to sleep really early (hopefully 9:00 or so); wake up nice and early tomorrow; make sure to go to the bathroom; plan to get there about an hour early to watch people freaking out; and from there my fate is in the hands of a higher power.
George Carlin has a routine about how people only watch car racing for the accidents. That may or may not actually be the case, but I feel like I sometimes feel the same way about standardized tests. When I took the LSAT, the proctor failed to give the 5-minute warning on one of the sections. I knew she'd forgotten, because I was keeping track of the time pretty carefully, and I couldn't shake the excitement for those 5 minutes regarding what would happen when she called "time."
As it turned out, nothing happened, except for a few audible gasps, but those five minutes were the most exciting part of the whole test.
There's something so controlled about these situations -- such exact instructions and defined procedures -- that I feel like I just can't help but root for something bizarre to happen. For the test booklets to be misprinted. For the power to go out. For the bathrooms to be broken. Some tiny little thing can throw the whole procedure off, and to watch the proctors try to adjust and figure out how to proceed. On the brink of chaos. I root for stories. The exam itself is likely to be unimaginably boring. Whether I pass or fail -- and I honestly don't know that I've prepared enough to come even close to passing this thing -- I want to have something to talk about, something to write about, something to experience. Nothing truly terrible, of course. I don't want a meningitis outbreak at the test center, or a random wild gunman. But someone waxed the tables the night before and the exam papers won't remain in place? Sure, that could be cool. Someone accidentally locks the door and no one can get out for the lunch break? Absolutely. Someone switches the exam and we have to take it in Turkish? Why not?
P.S. Best of luck to Amber, Chris, WT, JCA, Matt, Gabe, Adam, Andrew, and everyone else (with or without a blog) who's taking this thing. It won't be so bad. At the very worst, you can just join me in South Dakota in February. :)
posted by Anonymous @ 12:40 PM
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