Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Blame the Ex!

One of the best things about taking a Bar Exam (aside from the obvious ability to practice in a specific jurisdiction if you pass) is celebrating the end of the exam.  For whatever reason, last time I took the Bar there was no big hooplah after it was over to celebrate the months of hard work I put in.  For those who are wondering, I took and rocked both New York and Massachusetts in 2009, while planning a wedding AND prepping for an international move.  While my friends were jet setting off to get drunk in exotic locales in 2009, I ordered pizza or participated in some other decidedly anti-climactic activity that I cannot recall with my now ex-husband.

This time, I was determined to have a better post Bar Exam celebration. For those not in the know, you must take a Bar Exam for every state (unless you can waive in).  So, even though I'm licensed in NY and MA, I must take NJ as well. 

While an exotic vacation wasn't financially feasible, I planned the second best thing--a weekend in NYC with my amazing girl friends.  As it turned out, a friend of mine, M, had recently relocated to NYC from San Francisco and she was also taking the Bar Exam.  Knowing that we would be stressed to the max and celebrating in NYC after the Exam, M and I invited some girl friends from law school down for our semi annual law school girls reunion weekend--woohoo!

After a harrowing two months of exchanging encouraging but increasingly frantic emails, text messages and phone calls, M and I took our exams our girls weekend began.  Two of our friends (L and N) arrived from Boston and the four of us took to the streets of Manhattan.   We had a blast catching up on life, reminiscing about law school and talking crap about former friends (yes, horse-loving-trust-fund-sour-puss, I'm talking about you!). 


Just a funny pic from SoHo--intended for no one in particular.

The best thing about my weekend with my girl friends was discovering their fierce loyalty.  Although we've been close since 2006, I realized that these women were true friends as they stuck by my side through my divorce this summer.  Now that I'm starting over and moving on, their devotion to me has been realized through a fun game that they made up over the weekend called, "Blame the Ex" (i.e. my ex--his name is used for the purposes of this game in in real life, but I will protect his privacy over the internet because I'm nice).   Note: none of the following are actually his fault.

Any foible in our weekend got chocked up to the fault of my ex even though none of these things could be attributed to him.  Traffic in the city? Blame the Ex!  Long line at the bathroom?  Blame the Ex!  N got food poisoning?  Blame the Ex!  Flight back to Boston was delayed 5 hours?  Blame the Ex!

By the end of the weekend we had six-pack abs from laughing so hard, way too few pictures, plans for a summer get together and a super fun blame game! 

View from Sutton Place--our future homes (after we all marry millionaires)


No comments:

Post a Comment