Veni, Vidi...but no Vici

So after having been squashed between a guy from Boston ("You're a lawyer? Oh boy, I'm thinking about taking my LSATs this June!") and a guy who treads on my entire right foot without noticing or hearing me screaming in agony, for a full twenty-odd hours, I arrived back in my little flat in Hong Kong.

The flat smelled a bit damp. While I have been away, it appears Hong Kong has regained its tropical weather and has been humid and hot. I noticed I was sweating even though I was only standing still, surveying my flat. It still looked like my flat so I suppose nothing has been stolen (you never know, I may have been subject to burglary by a very careful burglar, so I will have to do a full scale inventory of the place later). I picked through the pile of post to open up the ones that specifically have my name handwritten on the envelopes. It is much easier to look at your personal post than the bills. But today I shouldn't have done so, I think, because it turns out I have received Yet Another Wedding Invite. At least this one was funny because it invited me to a wedding in Dehli, of all places and it's for four days. Maybe I'll go if I get fired for having failed the Bar exam. Maybe I'll go even if I don't get fired if I've failed the Bar exam.

The Bar exam. Yes, that dratted thing. All those crazed days of memorising bits of law and driving M. crazy while watching 'Law & Order' are now over.

Defense counsel on 'Law & Order': "You can't charge my client of conspiracy, you only have one conspirator."
Me: "Actually, that's wrong. Because New York's Penal Code follows the MPC, you can charge someone with conspiracy even if there is only one conspirator."
M.: "J-A, it's only TV."
Me: "I know that."

And driving along the highway up to Albany to take the exam, I couldn't help myself.

Sign: "Buckle up! New York law requires you to wear a seatbelt."
Me (in seat next to the driver): "Actually, in New York, the fact that the injured party was not buckled up is not a defense in the event of an accident. It can, however, be a factor to mitigate damages."
M. (the driver): "OK...."

I was cooped up in a four star hotel in Albany, New York for four days with a colleague who was a fellow applicant - the Chinese Sad Associate. She was really nervous and stressed, and she told me so.

Chinese Sad Associate: "I'm so stressed. I can't eat."
Me: "You must eat. You've come this far."
Chinese Sad Associate: "I'm so stressed I'm constipated."
Me: "Er. Um. I see. Maybe you should have more water? You know, it's a lot drier here than in Hong Kong."
Chinese Sad Associate: "I'm so stressed I don't think I can drink water. My stomach is not feeling very good."

Chinese Sad Associate then proceeds to go to loo. I flip on MTV, hoping to ignore embarrassing sounds from the loo. Chinese Sad Associate does one better - she turns on the shower and the tap water so I can't hear anything. She proceeds to do this every single time she uses the loo. I don't. Does this make me rude?

It is a stressful event, no doubt, but it was made surreal by the fact that every morning, before breakfast, Chinese Sad Associate read five pages of Buddhist prayer asking the higher ups to help her with the exams. I didn't do any praying. I'm going to kick myself in May for not having gathered the spiritual resources available to me, I'll bet.

The exam hall was huge, and it felt like they had deliberately divided up the candidates according to their nationality. I was placed in the British 'ghetto', but I had a Ghanaian next to me. He had difficulty figuring out how to fill in the ID forms. I'm going to be so pissed off in May if I find out that he's passed and I've failed. I'll be kicking myself for having helped him out on both days of the exams. Only joking, of course I feel the glow of being a Good Samaritan.

The rest of my stay was marked with lots of chocolate cake and wine every day. I tell you, nothing beats that combo. It is just as well, because I have vowed to get into shape. My derriere is becoming cheeky enough to assert its own rights on feeding and wobbling, and I think it's time I stop eating enough for two. Everyone in the office today has commented on how 'glowing' and 'radiant' I look. I fought back the urge to say something about having been with M. for ten days, but instead, I smiled serenely and told them to buy makeup at Chanel.