No Fault

The bar exam is over. Bill, Mike and I tried to turn it into a road trip – Mike suggested we think of it as a sequel to “Crossroads”. We tried not to talk too much about the bar exam so I got to learn about Bill and Mike’s shared obsession for “News Channel 8” and its local news “personalities”. Strange.

The exam itself was horrendous. The hotel was a dump. It rained constantly and it was so cold I spent the entire time wishing I’d brought a sweater. Some of the essays went very badly but I was probably able to compensate with better scores on the multi-choice section. The low point for me was the essay question about No-Fault Insurance. Somehow I hadn’t managed to find much enthusiasm for studying New York’s no-fault insurance laws. Oops.

We don’t get our scores until November so I’m going to try not to think about it. The highlight of the trip for me was walking around Empire State Plaza during the lunch breaks. It must be the most awesome example of brutalist architecture in the world. The four identical buidings at the back of the plaza are called Agency One, Agency Two, Agency Three and Agency Four. Brilliant.

Anyway, here are some photos:


I don't have any photos of my red hair yet but I do have a photo of me in my stupid shirt at the graduation dinner in May.


This was also taken at our graduation dinner. This is the Yale Law School letting loose. Look at those law students go! I think Jen Sung is making an effort but the rest of us look like we're auditioning for a role as the high school dork in a teen comedy (a role I'm sure everyone played to perfection in real life).

. . .

My life now is completely consumed with organizing my move to Vermont. I’ve been trying to throw out as much stuff as possible before I move. This afternoon I went through my pantry and threw out a bunch of stuff that, even though it hadn’t necessarily gone bad, I knew I wouldn’t ever eat. There was so much stuff it took me two trips to the dumpster. In the 40 seconds between trips there was already someone at the dumpster sorting through my stuff. He saw me with the second box and asked if I was throwing that out too. I wanted to keep the box so we started going through it with me saying things like “No, that vegemite is probably too old, and I doubt you’d want it anyway” and with him saying – without any self consciousness I could detect – things like “My wife will love these spices.”

. . .

Some links:

A lucky bunny.

A great new desktop (I have it up on my computer and I can tell you it looks fantastic).