The Waiting Was The Hardest Part

[And, it's overrrrrrr. I have now taken the LSAT. Yesterday was one of those days that feels like it will never end. I awoke at 6AM, stressing that because I never received my admission ticket, they wouldn't let me into the test. I called the test drones, they said it would be fine, and told me, by the way, your test has been moved to Hastings Law School from USF. Good thing I called; if only I'd asked for one other piece of information. Hastings is much closer to my house than USF, so it was just as well they moved the venue.]

[I got it together, and was at Hastings by 7:45. The guard had no idea what the LSAT was, but maybe I should check in over at the building across the street. Well, OK. That guard looked on his computer, and said it wasn't scheduled until 11:30. WHAAAAT?! OK, remaining calm, thinking it's not a big deal that I could've SLEPT IN AND BEEN WELL-RESTED for this thing, I walked back home and waited. Back down thru the 'Loin one more time to Hastings, I was one of the first parked outside classrooms F and G at 11:30 on the dot. 11:45. 12:00. More and more test-takers streamed into the hallway, sat on the floor, and waited. At about 12:20, some harried looking men in black suits (yes, think Men In Black, it was very strange) unlocked the two classroom doors and shuffled in with boxes full of, we presumed, the damned tests.]

[Sometime later, one of the Men In Black came out to announce it would be a while longer, sorryforthedelay, and slammed the doors shut again. People started to get a little (more) restless. I amused myself by gazing at a lovely boy wearing a Roots Canada fleece and a baseball cap. After more waiting, we shuffled in SLOWLY, getting fingerprinted and identified and seated in two very cold lecture halls, with a seat separating each of us. God, it's been a long time since the SAT; you forget how frustrating the petty rigamarole can be, especially when "administered" by semi-literate gorillas who can barely read the test instructions.]

[Roots Canada Boy sat two places away, and let me borrow his pencil sharpener. He was a talkative fellow: a Torontonian, he went to college in the U.S. on a baseball scholarship, and was now (obviously) looking to law school. Chatting with him helped break the tedium as we waited to begin. The test wasn't anything I didn't expect: practicing to the extent that I did really helped. I am loath to admit this, as I'm supposed to be naturally brilliant WITHOUT ANY HELP! It took forever, it was slow torture, and now it's over. (Oh, a few of you will be interested to know that there was an Argument question about synesthesia: the specialist cited called those so blessed with this mix of senses synesthesiacs, rather than synesthetes. Funny how that makes it sound so much more pathological.) The last step in the admission process is an interview at New College sometime this summer.]

[My birthday on Sunday got a bit lost in the LSAT shuffle, but John and I did have a pleasant brunch with Colleen and Frankie in the morning, and my roommates surprised me with a lovely, rich torte-style cake that afternoon. My family's venturing into the city on Wednesday, and we'll do dinner and a show. 32 isn't any particular milestone, and I'm just as happy for it to have passed mostly under the radar.]

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