Friday, October 1, 2010

A Girl Walks into a Bar. . .

Or she just passes it.


I was pretty sure this morning that today was going to suck until about 6pm. First of all, I knew I was going to have to check a bag on my flight home. Second of all, our White House tour got delayed by two hours, which meant I was missing it so I could catch a plane.

I was not feeling much better when I missed the 12:20 MARC train to BWI or when the 1:05 Amtrak I caught stopped in the middle of Maryland so they could inspect the motor. Myself, I would have preferred they check the motor, you know, BEFORE several hundred people boarded the train. But, hey, to each their own. I do not have a good track record with BWI and tonight is D's bachelorette party. I had to get on this plane. I made it, and was looking forward to some down time and an inflight cocktail to rearrange my head.

As I boarded the plane, Olivia called me to inform me that Illinois bar exam results were in. I had a nightmare the other night that the results came in, but my computer kept crashing before the website loaded. My subconscious has a pretty good handle on how shit goes down in my life. I made the snap decision to pay for the overpriced Wi-fi, even after paying way-too-much to check a bag. Computie boots up nicely, I enter my CC info through gritted teeth, say a quick prayer and log on to iBaby to see....

My results are not yet posted.

I blink. I know that Stephy got his results. His last name is later in the alphabet than Lawless.

I try googling it. I get re-directed to iBaby. No results.

Just when I'm cursing the Illinois State Bar and Delta Airlines wi-fi, I refresh iBaby and a notification pops up. Cursing the flight attendants for being so slow with the cocktail I need to steady my nerves, I click it.

"Dear Ms. Lawless:
We are pleased to advise that you have passed the July 2010 Illinois bar examination."

As I type, I milking that $4.95 in interwebs charges and sippin' a G&T.

So, Congrats to all the new Illinois Lawyers!!!!!!

And to close:
"Karen, I'm a laywer. Which means I, unlike you, have actually passed a bar."

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