Bar/Bri Day ___: Uh Oh.

I've lost count. All I know is that July 4th is here much too quickly. That's bad. Not because I don't like the US or birthdays--I like both in fact, very very much--but rather because everyone who has taken the bar has said that July 4th is the Rubicon: there's no going back, and it's the point where the bar exam becomes real. You have no excuse but to put your nose to the grindstone-- you know, as I'm typing this phrase, it occurs to me that putting your nose to a grindstone would hurt. Seems apt I guess. (Although, on further research, you only put your nose near it. No pain. Phew!)

Today, as we're listening to day 2 of 3 of the Evidence lecture, I noticed a growing chorus of groans everytime a Massachusetts distinction, from myself included. See, the bar exam in most states (not all--hello California!) is 2 day affair: 1 day testing general "multi-state" law, which is either federal law or common law that a majority of states follow, and 1 day testing any and all law specific to the particular state. Bar/Bri teaches from the starting point of multi-state law, and then points out state distinctions along the way. It's usually pretty efficient since no one state really veers all that much from the majority.

At first, I'd well up with pride, Ramona Quimby-style, whenever we came across a Massachusetts distinction. "That's MY state!" I'd think to myself. Real life has offered many occasions on which to be proud of Massachusetts jurisprudence. While it overall tends to the paternalistic, it definitely has the average joe's best interests at heart. But now. Oy. Everytime I hear another Massachusetts distinction, I and everyone else in my class groans at the thought of having to learn one more blackletter rule of law... and we can't take it anymore.

Loose Ends.

I'd been meaning to write some follow-ups so here goes. I know, I know, it's like waiting for the last episode of Lost or Battlestar Galactica around here (the latter being far, far, far, far, far, far superior).

1. Firefox v.3 doesn't get along with Skype. I've changed 3 things since the displeasure of June 18. First, I reduced the cache. Second, I limited the number of backtrack pages. And third, I got rid of a Skype installation, which I had recently installed in v.2. So far--knock on wood--I've been able to reset the cache with no crashing. Hopefully, I can reset the number of backtrack pages. It's my guess that Skype and v.3 don't get along.

2. In much more important news, I just came back from WALL-E. It's good. Boy howdy.

3. In slightly less important news, I finished reading A Confederacy of Dunces, which I had tried to read 4 or 5 years ago because it was a "cool" book to read. I picked it up again because I'm working my way through the Pulitzers. You know how Greek comedies aren't all that funny? Sort of like that, but with more farting. Seriously.

4. The Dunkin Donuts flavor trial is all done. Herewith:

Raspberry: B. Surprisingly better than blueberry. Maybe it's because I think raspberry is a more distinctive flavor and so it can hold its own better, or maybe I'm just being silly.

Toasted Almond: C. Completely irrelevant. Take that two-worded-flavor. You think you're so special because you're toasted. Who wouldn't be? Minus points for trying too hard.

Hazelnut: B+. Classic! This is the only way I can get my hazelnut fix. I'm allergic to them. Yup, that means no Nutella, either.

Caramel: C+. I can't remember what this tasted like. I'm guessing caramel.

5. "Sackbut" is a real word.

Adventures in Car Insurance: Part 2.

I called GEICO today to cancel my policy. I hate calling corporations to cancel things. I'm always suspicious that they will try and do something, anything, to overcome my weak will and keep me as a customer. Credit cards do it. Gyms do it (remember the Friends episode?). Cell phones do it. It's not a far stretch to think that insurance companies will do the same.

Turns out, it's not GEICO that was the headache, but rather my states of transfer. North Carolina requires cancellations of policy to be in writing, and Massachusetts -- well, they seem to be the holy water that sears the skin of car insurance providers. Lucky me! I'm crossing my fingers, because despite the red tape, I'm making progress towards finishing this little sojourn into middle class adulthood. Like I said, I'm just passing the time until I grow up.

Adventures in Car Insurance.

I like Geico. They've been good to me. In general, I hate insurance -- our family has been screwed over more times than Britney on a good day by insurance -- but Geico has been pretty decent. Something about Warren Buffett's aura must infuse that place. The only problem is that Geico doesn't insure in Massachusetts. It insures in all 49 states and the District of Columbia, but not Massachusetts.

See, Massachusetts used to have the state legislature set auto insurance rates. That way, the evil corporations couldn't take advantage of families in lower economic strata. But since April, Mass has been relaxing its paternalistic grip and letting the butterflies go. Progressive rushed in like gangbusters, but Geico hasn't yet. This means that I have to switch insurance, even though I'm only here for a couple months.

Like I said, Progressive has been advertising like a banshee, so I took them up on their offer, and it turns out I get a better policy with them at a lower price than I had with Geico. That doesn't mean anything really since it's a different state, and I have yet to see how Progressive actually deals with a claim (*knock on wood*). Regardless, I pulled the trigger. I didn't realize that old insurance, my ex-policy with Geico, will get pro rated back and refunded. Sweet! The market works sometimes.

Except that the same reason that allows Progressive and Geico to be so cheap is the current stitch in my side: because they are direct insurers (eliminating the middleman agents of yesteryear -- well, and Massachusetts), I don't actually talk to anyone in person. And it turns out that Massachusetts, God bless them, requires a specific form to be filled out (the infamous RMV-1 -- Google it! And then burn it in effigy for me!) that requires title information.

That info is HARD to come by. I don't have title to my car yet. Still paying that good ol' principal and interest, amortized (I actually know what this all means thanks to law school of all places). Apparently, the old insurance agents doing this in person knew how to do all this with one hand tied behind their backs, but Progressive's a little regressive here. I called around and finally figured out that the bank financing my car does have the title, just not readily available, so they have to mail a copy of it to me.

Then I can call Progressive back, have them fill out the forms, and FedEx(!) the RMV-1 form to me, so that I can go to the Massachusetts RMV (that's Boston speak for DMV), and convert my registration and license, get new plates (tags to you Southerners), and then get my car inspected such that I may burn $4/gallon without fear of a moving violation, so that I can pass the character & fitness portion of the bar exam. Yup. It's all one full circle.

A Weekend Away.

I took a much needed (ie, ill-advised) weekend away from all things Bar/Bri (ie, I only took one Bar/Bri book with me), and went out to the country to a gathering some friends of mine were having. It's funny to say the country, seeing as how most people when they see the town I live in think I already live there.

So, despite the fun gas prices, I didn't carpool (ostensibly to retain the flexibility should I freak out and need to drive back to study--I didn't) despite the fun gas prices. The best thing about road trips in my mind is the fact that I have no choice but to eat fast food for every meal. And it doesn't count! I mean, when you don't have a choice, it's not fair to include it in your calorie count for the day. So both going there, and coming back, I made sure to stop at McDonald's and get their Southern-Style Chicken sandwich. Deeeeeelicious. (And it doesn't count!)

The hinky thing about the whole shebang was that I was charged a "Takeout Tax" of 30 cents on a 6 dollar bill. No percentage. Nada. This is highly suspect given that as a roadside service area, every meal is takeout at this McDonald's.

I'm on to you Ronald. My 6 readers will destroy you.

Displeased.

I totally bought into the Mozilla Firefox v.3 hoopla because I've been a faithful Firefox user since way back. Not only is it a kickin' browser (I mean whoda thunk that tabs would be so awesome?), but it was made expressly to combat the worst thing about Internet Explorer. See, the smart folks at Microsoft thought it'd be wise to write IE code directly into the mainframe shell of the Windows operating system. In short, hackers have a directly line into your personal computer, and you can't delete IE (because that would be like trying to delete your computer itself).

And yet, good reader (<--intentional singular), I write this entry on IE. Why? (other than the fact that Netflix currently only supports instant-watching on IE) Because my spanky new Firefox browser has stalled at least 5 times already, and it has been less than 24 hours. I checked out the cache, and it was sucking up 450 MB of RAM. What the? Unacceptable. UNACCEPTABLE. Now I have to figure out what's going on. Of course, I went to the Firefox help site (on IE), and found out that v.3 is supposed to reduce the RAM requirements.

Don't toy with me Firefox. I'm so mad; I could kick David Archuleta.

17.

Boo. Yah.