Hey, if you had to study a book called "The Texas Procedure/Evidence Workshop," you'd need a beer too. Especially one with an alcohol content of 7.2%, which technically makes it "Malt Liquor."

I've been studying at Rice University's Fondren Library the past few weeks and finally got around to walking around the giant courtyard in front of the library. While on a stroll (study notes in hand) the other day, I stumbled upon this inscription on the side of the Physics and Astronomy lecture hall.

I asked my mom what it means because I can't read Hebrew without vowels. It says: "He who respects knowledge is respected." So to all my fellow bar-studiers out there - RESPECT KNOWLEDGE AND THOU SHALT BE RESPECTED.

I'M PG BITCHES!!! Those fucking fucks down at the blog rating agency have their heads too far up their asses to know what the fuck is going on. Fuckers.

Anyway, for July 4th, I celebrated by NOT studying. I drank beer with friends, watched Pirates 2 (mediocre) and Boondock Saints (excellent), and watched the fireworks. It was a good day.

And I also said FUCK a lot.

I live in Texas and I am pretty sure its July. Today was the first day in over a month I wanted to take my motorcycle out to enjoy the sunlight. I hate the cold, the rain, and clouds in general. I don’t care about crops, fuel, or forests, we are all going to die in a nuclear war or the apocalypse anyways if cancer doesn't get us first. I assume that we have enough people studying genetics these days to figure out how to make stuff grow even if it’s a little warmer and if California falls into the ocean I think the Tool song “Aenima” had it right when they said learn to swim. I want my sunny days year round and nobody telling me I cant take my 17 MPG v8 at 130 miles per hour just because it’s a nice day and I have nothing better to do. For all the hype around global warming these hippies better deliver soon cause this rain is pissing me off.

Evil I

I have never felt like i knew so much about the law than i do now, and yet i have never felt so unprepared for a test. For anyone considering law school, please reconsider. I haven't slept in three? four? weeks. I don't even remember graduating. I don't know what day of the week it is when i wake up most mornings. Eating is the highlight of my day. Well, eating has always been the highlight of my day, but now it's, like, my sole purpose. I was put here to eat and study law. Or maybe it's eat law.

My classmate today really summarized it well. I said that my brain was like a shelf: for every piece of information i put on the shelf, another piece falls off. He said, "Shelf? SHELF? I only have a ledge. Screw shelf." You heard it here first. Screw shelf.

My lease with Hamster Boy and Kinda Normal Girl was over at the end of June and I have temporarily moved in with a friend, Rat. Rat has been out of the country for two weeks so it has been solo living for me. Rat lives a very primitive lifestyle: no cable TV (he doesn’t even own bunny ears) or satellite or phone line or internet (gasp!). Last Tuesday, I went home to a house with no water. I live in a house with no cable, no internet, no running water. Awesome. Welcome to Little House on the Prairie. I call the management company and they send a City of Dallas water maintenance man on Wednesday to fix the water problem (Rat did pay his bill, it was a problem with the pipes). I get home on Wednesday, and the water man asks if I have water. ALAS! I have water! I can shower! I thank the water man and all is well. Fast forward to Friday, I get home, and water man is in his car waiting. I walk into my house and 22 seconds later, I hear a knock. It’s water man. I open the door and water man asks if my water is still on. It is. Water man is starting to be a little creepy but whatever, if I had his job, I would probably be kinda creepy too. I get home last night (Monday) and guess who is waiting for me? WATER MAN! Is the City of Dallas water man stalking me?!

On a positive note, I will be sitting on a beach in 18 days, with a margarita in one hand and a Corona in the other. Ole.

-Pajama Grrl

Your job between the hours of 8 and 4 on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of this week is to pray as hard as you can to whatever deity or force that strikes your fancy that I do not f*ck up on the Bar exam. Your other job is to send any positive brain activity going on in your head to the Palmer Events Center in Austin, TX.

If you happen to be in Austin on Thursday night and you want to get a drink, find the nearest drinking establishment to Palmer and there I shall be.

since p-man is distracted I can make a mindless blog post and he wont criticize my bad punctuation grammar or speling but anyways I just bought tickets for the simpsons movie and I am excited so you should be excited for me

good luck to all you future lawyers by the way and try not to be the bottom 17 percent

Evil I

I, too, purchased my tickets to see The Simpsons Movie. Woohoo!

-Pajama Grrl

Some of the dreams I've had lately, likely resulting from the stress and insanity of the Bar (more on that Bar thing later):

Dream 1

I'm in a physics class taught by none other than an aged Samuel L. Jackson. He has long gray hair and he's wearing a lab coat. We had a homework assignment. One of the problems (#30) was particularly difficult. It asked: "Is there any way to be in two places at the same time?" Dr. Jackson asked, "Did that question drive you guys crazy or WHAT! Who has an answer for me?" A tall-ish girl stood up and said, "I have an answer. You can be in more than one place at the same time as long as your presence is only known by one all-powerful being at a time." Meaning, I suppose, you can be in more than one place at a time as long as for each place that you are, only one all-powerful being (God?) knows that you are there. Maybe this is possible because you could be in separate universes, each of which has its own all-powerful being? Who knows.

Dream 2

I arrived at my apartment after being gone all week and everything is gone. The structure has been mostly dismantled. All that remains is the frame of my little garage apartment. I walk around the remnants wondering what the hell went wrong and where my stuff is. I find that most of my belongings are in a gigantic hole next to my apartment. At that moment, I find a strange middle-aged woman giving me dirty looks. I ask what happened. She looked at me incredulously as if I should know. She didn't speak English (or perhaps couldn't talk), so she directed me towards a small piece of wall that remained on my apartment where she had apparently scribbled her response to my same question asked by someone else. I guess someone else had asked where the hell my apartment had gone.

She scratched out a few things and modified the previous response (which was in English) to help answer my question, and I gathered that my landlord was no longer the landlord, that I had a new landlord, that she (this woman) was a tenant of the new landlord, and that I had not paid my rent. I argued that I had paid my rent to my old landlord and she looked surprised. She shrugged and walked off to her apartment, which appeared to be underground down a flight of dingy carpeted stairs whose white walls were covered with various markings.

Those are just two of my dreams. There have been other strange ones, but those are the only ones i can remember clearly.

As for the Bar, the new rule I'm following with myself and my friends is that I will not talk about the Bar. It was too stressful, too difficult, and too long. I'm glad it's over and I hope I never have to do it again. If you plan on taking it any time soon, let me know, and I will tell you everything you need to know.

Last night was my last "night out" in Houston. I invited pretty much everyone I know in Houston, and if I missed anyone, I was hoping the ones I got would spread the word. It was a good time. I got really drunk, but not stupid-sloppy three-sheets to the wind drunk. I even shot tequila - something I reserve for special occasions (like waking up in the morning). (Just kidding).

Last night was one of those nights when your various pockets friends finally meet. You know what I mean. You have friends that have never met, but whom you talk about with your other friends. So you end up talking about people you know with other people you know, who don't know those first people (get all that?) Basically, my worlds were colliding.

In other news, packing sucks. I have way too many books. And I'll be giving away like six pairs of shoes I haven't worn in a year. I have no idea why I have these shoes. They were probably on sale and I felt compelled to buy them. Damn sales. Damn effective marketing strategies.

I move to Dallas Wednesday. I'll be moving in with my new roomie Pajama Grrl. No, PJ and I are not dating. Anyone getting ideas can just kill those ideas. However, she might catch a glimpse or two of my manly hairiness. I like walking around in my boxers. I bet I just created a wonderful image in all of your respective minds.