Schmar

So, here is how my final day of the Louisiana bar exam went. I was awakened at 3am by an urgent throbbing of my bladder which portended a totally unexpected and badly timed UTI. For a brief moment, I actually considered going to the ER. Brief moment because this little ditty pretty much sums up my ER experiences in the past. Except for that time one of my ovaries exploded. But that was in South Korea which has a much better healthcare system.

After laying there awake all night between fruitless trips to the toilet and popping all the cranberry pills in my cabinet, I started thinking about how retarded this whole urination thing is. Maybe we should just sweat more. I live in New Orleans and sweat a lot. Therefore, I do not need a urethra that doubles me over in pain the night before the last day of the biggest test of my life. And all day. As if losing sleep wasn't enough. At least I can blame my bladder for missing any constitutional issues.

My time is far too valuable to waste urinating. It's not like I can do something at the same time. Reading is out. Even flashcarding is out. Just not enough real commitment to the task at hand. Peeing is a chore, and for someone who drinks a lot of fluids in a crowded place with one toilet, a geniune inconvenience. And of course, the lines for the ladies is always too long anyway.

I think peeing being a chore is more the case for women than men. Men that I have seen urinating in my life (images clogging up valuable memory space) seem to lend almost a jovial aspect to their pissing duty. Several I know have a particular fondness for balconies. Women however squat like we are gathering grubs and occasionally manage to leak on ourselves. And forget peeing over balconies since we'd likely fall off in the process. One more gender inequality.

Plus there's the extra time wasted to scrub your hands (twice) and open the door with your sleeve or a paper towel because you just saw someone who didn't wash their hands touch the same handle and you don't want cooties. Actually, I noticed people not washing their hands a lot during the bar. Honestly. It makes me look at people differently when I know they don't wash their hands, just like it makes me look at them differently when I know they're those silly peeps who cover the toilet seat with paper and then leave it on there. I've memorized their faces so in the future I will know to go wash my hands after shaking theirs.

It's too bad I'm not privy to this same info on the male side.

Useful

I provided a much-needed service to a stranger in Columbus, Ohio today who performed a google search entitled "is doug kershaw dead" and thereupon stumbled unto my blog where I provided the ready answer. Nope, he's not and to prove it I have a picture of him performing live in really tight pants.

People should really start paying me.

Bar

This video (yet another Little Britain find) sums up exactly how this bitch is going to conquer that mean nasty bar.

And one day to go. Warning to all my friends who keep prematurely congratulating me - I ain't done 'til Friday!!

Little Britain

For those of you who haven't yet seen this show you need to get on it. It repeats and builds and you find yourself madly in love with every deplorable character.

Like Anne, who reminds me a little of myself while studying for the bar.

Pontificate

So, the highlight of my day has been making a journalist's blog.

I seem to hold this great attraction for people wanting to know my political opinions. I find this slightly funny because my political views are all over the map, and I'm totally unreasonable about them. But I'm happy to offer them as long as they don't devolve into fruitless discussions (see below). Maybe I don't like to be contradicted, or maybe I just don't see the point sometimes. We are all going to do what we are all going to do anyway. That's being human.

This political solicitation happened rather vividly back in 2004 when I was back in North Carolina. A friend and I went to the Concord, NC Young Democratics meeting. There were about sixteen of us. And we were the only ones that really qualified as "young."

Anyway, I got interviewed, said a lot of very harsh things about George W., and my parents got harassed about it for weeks. At least the local newspaper seems to have a wide readership. It also confirmed my status as a total outcast of the community which was coming anyway since I was not married, knocked up and working in a shift job by age 25.

I'm actually not an attention seeker who craves this publicity, and I don't understand people who are (nor trust them or their motives). I'm uncomfortable in front of crowds. I only made it as a teacher because I would imagine everyone naked, but then stopped being able to do that when my students were kids. I get nervous. I can't breathe. I can write the speeches but I can't deliver them. I forget my sentences midway through. I fake it a lot (which is really obvious if you read my quote in said blog).

I'm so much more comfortable in the written word. So much less information to process, no body language to read, no eye contact to measure, no hands fidgeting or gesticulating between anger and supplication, no mistrust to prove. I get to stay at home and produce, I get to live through typing.

God, I want to write so badly.

Pleasure part II

Getting my Visa for Vietnam back in three days. Somehow it's so neat having a visa that says "Socialist Republic" on it.

I'm going to fill up this new overly-patriotic passports with stamps of many colors. Can't wait.

Pleasure

Two things give me true pleasure these days.

The first is reading "The Iliad" out loud to my dog as she lays on my chest in bed.

The second are these blueberry muffins:

2 cups whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking sode
1 1/4 cup buttermilk
2 egg whites
1 ripe banana mashed
1/3 cup canola oil
1/2 cup honey
1 cup frozen or fresh blueberries (or any other berry)

Sift baking soda and flour together. Separately whisk all wet ingredients together until frothy. Add blueberries to wet mixture then pour into dry and stir until just combined. Spoon into a muffin tin and bake for 25-30 minutes at 350 degrees.