Well, let's start with what I hope will be the last example of Bar Exam Brain, a process by which otherwise relatively intelligent people do completely stupid things. Tonight, I decided to go to Schmidt's Sausauge Haus, a German restaraunt in Columbus, for dinner. (They have terrific food, and I will only eat terrific food while taking the barzam, thank you.) I travelled there with my Conviser Mini Review so as to study for the essays tomorrow. Got in there, and noticed there were some tables towards the front where no one else was sitting around, so I thought I would get some peace and quiet as I sat there. Asked to be seated there, and the host obliged me, setting up a table.

Once I sat down and was situated and into my appetizer of sauerkraut balls, I thought, Gee. If I weren't taking the bar and were possessed of all my faculties, might I have thought that were I seeking quiet, I shouldn't have sat next to the set of drums, microphone, amplifier and accordion? As it turned out, the two guys who were utilizing said instruments were good and didn't even distract me that much from Corporations. So, that was good.

All right, now back to today. I had the pleasant thought today that, if all goes well, this will be the last time I have to fill in my name with little bubles. I flashed back to the first time we took the CAT (and yes, it was the CAT at that time) in Mrs. Ihde's class in first grade, the first time I ever met little bubbles. I didn't like filling my name in then under my name, and I don't like it now.

Anyway, the morning's exam, I felt like I kicked some major MBE. Questions rolled along; I felt like I was doing well.

Lunch. OK, the girl behind me; she should be good at adverse possession, 'cause she was certainly hostile. The cafeteria at Vets' Mem is like most cafeterias, where you'll have to stand in line and go past all sorts of food you don't want to get to the food you do want, and then wait to get to the cash register. Well, this was apparently not "logical" enough for her, and she thiks everything should be "logical," since this is "the law." (No, sweetheart, this is the cafeteria, and prolly not run by lawyers, either, a fact for which we all oughtta be very grateful.)

OK, so, to get Ms. Hostile out of her misery at the illogical cafeteria, I asked her where she went to school. She said Case Western. I did not point out I applied there and got wait-listed, because I had no desire to plumb the depths of her superiority complex. I then asked her where she was from, and she said originally Ohio, but she'd lived in New England for a long time. I asked her which she liked better, and she said she didn't particularly care for either of them. (For some reason, this did not surprise me.)

So then, she asked me where I was from, whereupon I said Port Clinton which -- surprise -- she'd never heard of. I asked if she'd ever been to Put in Bay, and she said, "Once, but I was so sick I barely remember it." I indicated many people have that experience. (For you out-of-Ohio'ers, Put in Bay is basically one big drunken political subdivision, actually home to the world's longest bar.) I told her that if she'd been to Put in Bay, the boat she was on probably left from Port Clinton. "Oh, no," she said. "We drove."

As politely as I could, and without calling her a liar, I indicated I found the idea she'd driven to Put in Bay, which is, after all, an ISLAND, highly unlikely. (If she had, I suspect she'd have found it more memorable.)

Not to be deterred by this, Ms. Logical pressed on. No, she was quite sure they drove. They stayed five minutes, and then came back. OK.

Surprisingly, I did not choose to sit next to her for lunch.

The afternoon MBE questions seemed MUCH more difficult to me than the morning questions. Part of it was I think just normal afternoon malaise, part is that they actually were more difficult.

All right, I'm sure there's more, but I'm losing my train of thought and it's time to get into bed. I talked to Kylie from Arizona tonight, who is DONE. I can't wait to sound as good as she did. :)

Thirteen hours, people. Thirteen hours.