7:46 PM

That’s the moment I got my LSAT score.

86th percentile

I’m not completely sure how to react.


On Tuesday, I called a university in Mobile, Alabama. I got voice mail:

“Thanks for calling. We are currently closed for Mardi Gras.”


So, I called a colleague who lives in Georgia.

Me: “Did you know the university is closed today?”

Him: “Yeah, well, it’s Mobile. They claim they invented Mardi Gras. The whole town shuts down for the day, and usually part of Wednesday, too. Even the public school district closes, and the city.”


Fast forward to Wednesday afternoon. I’m in the car, running to the store to grab some lunch, listening to an audiobook. The Right Attitude to Rain by Alexander McCall Smith, about philosopher Isabel Dalhousie, who lives in Edinburgh, Scotland. Edinburgh, mind you. And I hear this:

“Mobile, Alabama, . . . invented the Mardi Gras. New Orleans thinks they did. But they’re wrong.”


Of Sorrow and Sin

It’s almost as if there is a strain of Christianity that holds that sorrow is an aberration caused by a fault in its sufferer and therefore must be remedied. This fix usually involves . . . a remonstration to pray more and perhaps to read a spiritual book.
. . .
For many of us, the last mistake we want to make in that situation is to tell the wrong Christian friend how we really are, that we just feel beat up and forgotten and not at all where we thought we would be. In our darkest times, we just can’t bear the resulting lecture.
. . .
[I]f everyone around you is pretending like he’s happy and life is bliss then you’re inclined to pretend the same thing. Wouldn’t it be a shame if our churches were filled with far greater sorrow than we knew, only most of us were hiding it for fear of not fitting in?

-Tony Woodlief, Is Sorrow a Sin?

Antici. . .

I haven’t talked about it much here, mostly because I didn’t want to jinx it. Stupid, I know.

On Saturday, February 7th, I took the LSAT. I had studied for over a month, with varying degrees of success. My mood vacillated between enthusiasm and despair. The real problem is a combination my own ridiculous desire for perfection and an excessive degree of self-criticism. God bless Handsome for putting up with me.

That weekend morning, I was anxious. No surprise there. My biggest fear was being the oldest person in the room, which was alleviated by a handful of others my age or older. And then there was the ice-breaker.

One perky pre-law student from UT thought we would all relax a little if we shared our names and majors. *snort* Ohhhkaaay. Had to be a cheerleader. Or a sorority sister. So cute.

Anyway, we proceeded to break the ice. There was the guy who planned to take the LSAT till he got a perfect score . . . because his dad was paying for it. There was the sick girl who ended up coughing through the exam. There was the dumb guy who had to ask how to fill in the little circles . . . below his name. One conspiracy theorist who believed the LSAT was a plot by the LSAC to sell study materials. And that other guy who didn’t realize you could study for the test and then proceeded to freak out. And, finally, the much older lady who sat in the wrong seat and delayed the exam for a half-hour, because the proctors decided to retrieve, recount, and re-distribute the exam folders in the proper order.

What a motley crew.

Five hours later, I felt surprisingly confident in my performance. And completely giddy at finishing it in good time – which is really the hardest part of the LSAT. I floated on a cloud for a couple days after it was over.

In any case, exam results are due later this week. I’m feeling a little anxious. Only a very little. At least, I haven’t thrown up. Yet.

Update: March 2, 2009. That’s the big day that test results are emailed. T minus five days and counting.

Jennifer + Handsome Sitting in a Tree

How long have you been together?
Together for 15 1/2, married for 8 1/2.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We spoke on the phone once before we had our first date. The first time I saw Handsome, I forgot my name. Really.

Who asked whom out?
Can’t remember. Probably him . . . I was a bit more shy back then.

How old are each of you?
I’m 35, and Handsome is a bit older.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
That’s a hard one. About the same I think. I have one sister; he has one brother. We don’t see either of them as much as we’d like.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
This usually revolves around our respective work loads, and how much time our jobs take away from each other. We are really jealous of the time our employers consume. And really, we’d be happiest going to work together every day. At the beach.

Did you go to the same school?
Not even close.

Are you from the same home town?
Again, not even close. We met in my hometown, but his family had only lived there a few years.

Who is smarter?
I think Handsome is smarter. And he’s creative and funny. I read a ton and have a steel-trap mind for details and trivia, but he processes data and information and finds conclusions faster than I do.

Who is the most sensitive?
Me. Without a doubt.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Mangia Pizza. If you’re ever in Austin, you must eat here.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
Venice, Italy. That was a trip.

Who has the worst temper?
I think Handsome does. He thinks I do.

Who does the cooking?
That would be me. I love spending time in my kitchen. Handsome can cook, but he doesn’t much. Usually he loiters in my kitchen, and I usually kick him out. Poor guy.

Who is the neat-freak?
Me, again. It’s a compulsion.

Who is more stubborn?
Three for three. When I believe I am right, there isn’t much on the planet that can change my mind. I’m trying to get better about it, though. You may find me saying, “it is possible that I am wrong about this, but I doubt it” or “I am willing to be wrong here” or (occasionally) “it’s possible that you’re right.” That last one doesn’t happen too often.

Who hogs the bed?
Handsome, most definitely.

Who wakes up earlier?
I do. Mostly because my work requires earlier hours than Handsome, but also because he’s a serious night owl.

Where was your first date?
Pleading the fifth. I am not willing to reveal this information.

Who is more jealous?
Neither of us is the jealous type. Well, not jealous of other people. We are equally jealous of things (jobs, school, etc) that take excessive amounts of time.

How long did it take to get serious?
For me, about thirty seconds. For Handsome, a bit longer.

Who does the laundry?
Mostly me, but he is completely capable and willing to do so. He even separates the delicates, hanging them to dry. He’s very conscientious.

Who’s better with the computer?
Handsome. Without a doubt. I don’t want to know how it works or why it works; I just want it to work. Handsome likes to rebuild computers from scratch, experiment with software, test the limits of computing power. I *heart* my geek.

Who drives when you are together?
Mostly me. Because I want to be a race car driver.

Tag: Leah, Lucy, Jeff, anyone/everyone else who drops by and wants to play. You know what to do.


Last night wasn’t a great night.

First off was my foul mood. Mostly attributable to the miserable fog that hung on all day yesterday, and also because I’m a real brat who likes her own way.

Things got better after a long walk with Handsome, though he did have to put up with the previously mentioned mood. That man is worth his weight in gold, I tell ya.

Got to sleep (relatively) early only to have incessant chewing gum dreams. All night long.

And finally woke this morning with a crick in my shoulder. Odd place. And it’s inhibiting my range of motion, and it hurts like hell.

But. But! But, it’s a beautiful, glorious, gorgeous spring day.

Wishing I was out there in the middle of it.

Side note: Is any one else mildly amused by the phrase Stimulus Package? No? Just me, huh? Well then. Guess it’s just Jennifer’s inner 12-year-old boy snickering, again.