Adventures in Lawyerland (Part 2)

Read part 1 here.


Senior year. I hated a large chunk of my senior year. I made the mistake of living in my sorority house again. I lost the election for president by 1 vote and I was NOT happy about serving as VP under someone unqualified to swat a fly. (Do I still sound bitter?)

Anyway, I HATE tests. I know. No one likes them. But there's just something about having to fill in little scantron bubbles with #2 pencils that makes my brain go to mush. So I did what all completely paranoid pre-law students should. I signed up for every review class known to man, every study group and bought every last damn prep book out there on the LSAT. I knew I'd suck it up on the test, so I had to do everything in my power to guarantee that other people would suck worse.

I finagled my schedule first semester so I only had class on Tuesday and Thursday, with one class at 11 on Wednesday. I was loving my 4 day weekends, but it meant that my Tuesdays and Thursdays lasted from 9 am until 10 pm. LSAT prep was 4 painful hours long each night. To say I wanted to die as I dragged my ass through the door each night is the understatement of the centry. And as I trudged up the winding staircase to my room, my ears were assailed by the blasting music and screaming as my sisters prepared themselves to go out.


I'd given up on thinking they'd be considerate of my studying as they pregamed. But I was going to scream if I had to hear the girl next door squeal ONE MORE TIME about the really really hot guy she hooked up with last night - you know him...the gorgeous lambda chi...what do you mean there are no hot lambdas! He was SOOOOO cute! But what was his name? I never got the answer to that one...she was FAR too drunk.


I bit my tongue as I sat on my bed, covered in text books until the last kids ran off to the bar with their fake IDs. I'd study til 1, get up and do it again the next day. It went on like that until that unseasonably cold day in October where we took the test.

I was stuck in a room with 40 other people – all freaking out. Even on my best practice test, I never topped 150. (180 is perfect – 150 is dead average) The only thing I could say for myself was I was consistent. I always scored within 3 points of 150…but you didn’t want to send in test scores in the 140 range. That would be the kiss of death.

I was the only one who walked in without study materials. I’ve never been one for the last second cram. I regretted it the second I heard the rumors.

We had heard that morning that the “experimental section” would be the reasoning questions. Analytical reasoning was by far my worst section. I can mindfuck anything to death. Don’t ask me why I consistently screwed up these questions...

The test past in a blur. Everyone speculated between sections which one was the “fake” section. I found religion mid-test and started praying that it was the fourth one. It was close to impossible and that was theoretically the sign of the test questions.

I finished the last section quickly. Too quickly. I had to listen for 2o agonizing minutes to the chants of “CORNERSTONE! CORNERSTONE!” as people ran by the windows, throwing study materials in the air as they headed – as quickly as possible – for the local bar. I wanted to be outside that room so badly I could already taste the first sips of the vodka cranberry I would soon be savoring.

Just before the proctor called “time,” I was struck with utter panic. I wanted to tear my test into pieces and run screaming from the room. I KNEW I failed. I knew it with every fiber of my being. Tears welled up in my eyes as I was finally able to leave the room. I was never going to get in ANYWHERE with this score. (And that’s where chapter 3 of our story begins next time)