Ding dong, the LSAT witch is dead!

On the last night of our trip, we stopped in to visit our British friends in Extremadura.  They put us all up for the night, fed us delicious food as always, and schooled us on the proper pronunciation of ...well, of just about everything. We played charades late into the night, drinking Martin's homemade pomegranate and fig liquers, and we lit a bonfire outside.   

The night before we were in Extremadura, The Mister did some online sleuthing and realized that our LSAT scores were about to be released within the next few hours.  We stayed up late, feeling that nervous feeling that you get right before you go onstage somewhere, before deciding that we should call it a night.

The next morning The Mister woke up at 6:45 and took a bleary look at his iPhone to see if there were any emails from the Law School Admissions Council.  There were.  He took a quick peek and then grabbed my hand, pulling me out of bed in jubilation.  I was half-asleep until he choked out my score, at which point I came fully and suddenly awake like in a cartoon when someone gets  bucket of water dumped on them.  The scores were good. Very, very good.

I started jumping up and down in my bare feet and whisper-shrieking, trying not to wake our friends but not able to hush.

It's been a long journey, folks.  Fourteen months, 50ish practice tests, hours and hours spent inside studying while looking longingly out the window.  And it all paid off in the end.

But I have a few things in mind next time we have a big fire that needs to be cranked up (those LSAT books).

Madrid in Pictures, Part 1 of 2

So we had a good time in Madrid this past weekend.  The LSAT felt like it went pretty well, although you can never really tell with that punk test.  The LSAT is like a terrible best friend, the kind that is nice to your face but talks about you behind your back - you can think that you and the LSAT are friends, and put in lots of quality time together, and in the end you can still end up with a knife in your back, looking stupid and feeling tricked.  So cross your fingers, eh?

After the test we wanted to celebrate having survived, and we knew just the place to do it.  There was a faux 50s'-style American diner right across the street from our hotel that was advertising DELICIOUS HAMBURGERS SHAKES FRIES, and one of the benefits about already living in Spain is that I felt absolutely no guilt helping myself a nice juicy burger instead of some more culturally relevant Spanish food.  I eat Spanish food all the time, but I haven't had a burger like that since last summer (we definitely don't have food like that in Málaga), and let me tell you it was DELICIOUS.

Usually "American" restaurants in Spain feature totally un-American things like pizza with tuna and corn or something like that.  This one was a pretty great imitation though - right down to the glass sugar shakers with the aluminum slot to pour out - quintessentially American stuff right there.  So authentic feeling that it was really weird to be greeted by a cheery "Hola! Cuántos soís?" and to see the menu try to explain a Cobb salad in Spanish.

This leads me, however, to my chief complaint against Madrid.  Madrid is a pretty city, quite European feeling in a generic sort of way, but the whole effect was a little...vanilla.  It didn't feel nearly Spanish enough to me.  Where were the chestnut roasters on the street corners?  Where were the street vendors selling flowers? Nothing even closed for siesta.

My first three blocks walking in Madrid, I had seen a Burger King, a McDonald's, two Starbucks, a Bridgestone tire store and a FedEx truck.  Don't get me wrong, I liked the city overall, but I don't think I'll be adding it to my list of favorites because it felt too taken over by the multinational corporate chain city snatchers.  It felt like I could have been anywhere in Europe, in any city, and I missed the Spanishness, because jiminy christmas I love the Spanishness.  I really do.

But see? It was pretty anyway.

To Madrid

Headed off to Madrid today to take this dang test and finally see the capital of this fine country.

Be back Monday with one huge item checked of my cosmic to-do list and stories and pictures of our time in the north.

LSAT, Round 2, because I have a death wish

This coming weekend The Mister and I are hopping a plane to Madrid to take the LSAT (Law School Admissions Test  or Legally Sanctioned Authorized Torture, depending on whether you have a sense of humor or not) (and you do, I know you do.)

We've been studying for weeks, but I haven't really blogged about it because it's boring. Nobody wants to hear details of someone else's academic head-beating, and especially not when it's the second time - that's right, I took it one time before and underperformed.  And by "underperformed" I mean that I scored ten points lower than my practice average, which, trust me, is wretched.

Anyway, the point of this entire tangent has been to tell you that there is not a single pencil sold in the whole of the Kingdom of Spain (totally it's official name) that has an attached eraser.  Spaniards prefer to write with one utensil and erase with a separate one.  The erasers here are not even pink and rectangular like in the States, they are white and square.  And the pencils are not orange, they are black with yellow stripes. And, as mentioned, eraserless.

Now I can rest for the day, knowing that I've provided you all the vital cultural information and hard-hitting reporting you've come to expect from this blog.

Sarah reporting from Málaga, Spain.  Back to you, Tom. Over and out.

Thank You

P.S.

Dear anonymous door decorator:

thank you.

you rock.

you made us smile.

who are you?

handiwork:

We Find Out In Two Weeks

One LSAT expert famously called the LSAT "a six-hour brain humping courtesy of the law school admissions council".

Oh boy, was he right.

I feel completely drained. And relieved. And worried. And nervous. And sick. (oh, I didn't tell you about being sick the day of the test?) (let's just say I'm trying not to think about it.)

You'll Like It.

18 days left. We're in the chute now.

I am terrified, excited, nervous, calm, ready, underprepared, overprepared - individually or all at once depending on mood.

On another note though, you should really check out this poem written by my friend Jacob. I meant to post about it weeks/months ago, but it has fallen by the wayside, like so many other things lately.

The poem is lovely, haunting; at once both painfully personal and achingly universal. And, like life, there is hope at the end.



(P.S. If you like it, leave him a comment and tell him so - he's one of those "aw shucks it's not really THAT good" kind of guys, and we need to show him that yes, actually, it is)

Two Months From Today:

( This is my life right now)

Two months from today, at this time of the afternoon, I will be taking the LSAT.

Two months (and a few hours) from this moment, I will:

• Get to start reading for fun again


• Make something in the kitchen that is neither a sandwich nor a mess (if I remember how)


• Catch up with friends who I haven't seen in weeks


• Need sunglasses to hide my squinty eyes from the sun, since I won't have seen it for about 3 months at that point


• get rid of the entire shelf of study materials


• blog more often


• take more pictures


• not have to sharpen a number 2 pencil

The Mister and I were noting the other day that this is the hardest in life we have ever worked for anything. I definitely never worked this hard in college or anywhere else.

So two months and a few hours from now, I'll also get to have a sense of accomplishment - that no matter how the scores turn out (although please lord let them be good) that I worked my buns off - at least I won't have any regrets.

Breaking News

The Mister and I are taking the LSAT.

(in preparation for a possible law school run)

Test is June 7th.

Major big deal.

Pray for me?

P.S. Despite all the jokes, I am not doing this to channel her: