Metro Observations...

• DC natives always start walking in the same direction as the train when it pulls into the station. I think the theory is that there are more available seats at the front of the train. I'm not really sure what it is, but I do it too. One of my friends will NOT walk with the train. Since he reports on trains - I defer to him, although it kills me.
• Kids get so excited about riding Metro. To them it's a "real train." My friend's son Caleb, train enthusiast age 4, was rendered silent by the awe and wonder of being on the Metro. - nose pressed to the glass, whispering "train" every few seconds, his words clouding the window. The absolute best Metro stop for kids: National Airport. Both trains and planes - it's nearly too much. Kids come pretty damn close to levitating. I wish I could get that excited about simple things. Maybe I do - I get a little thrill when I travel by air. It's the whole thing, leaving responsibilities and worries behind - at least for a little while. Feeling like an adult (for once, I might add.) My parents travelled with us A LOT while we were young, and I'm thankful that they did. As worrywartish as they both are, they instilled that when you're travelling as long as you have your passport, a toothbrush, and access to a source of money - you're good to go. (Apparently, I have the formula down cold, since I emailed it practically word-for-word to a friend.)
• Public transportation cultivates the cult of anonymity. Most people treat their commute as a little oasis of silence. Time to catch up on a book, read the newspaper (to the motor skill-challenged who can't do this without throwing 'bows - seriously, read The Express - it was designed for you), listening to music, or in some other way acting like you're the only person on the train. Subways compromise personal space and I think retreating into a silent bubble is a way of recreating that space. In an odd way, it's the polite thing to do.
• I love that Metro riders wait for people to exit the train before boarding. You can always tell when someone is from out of town. Recently, one woman commented to her husband and two kids, "Look! They wait for people to get off first!" Then she turned to me and said, "We're from New York." You don't say.
• Johnny Depp is SO much prettier than me

And so it begins...

I start BarBri (i.e. the Bar review tomorrow.) I have a shelf-full of materials - literally, if I started reading right now, I doubt I could read through it all by the end of July (i.e. D-day(s).) Sadly, I've been looking forward to preparing for the Bar. I've set myself a schedule and I'll be able to focus on one thing for once.

Having said that, it's not entirely accurate. In addition to taking (and PASSING) the Bar, this summer I need to sell my place, finalize and take a post-Bar trip (not that I'm complaining), and ... move. I hate, hate, hate moving. I have lived in my place for 4 years. In college, I lived in the same house for 3 years. I'm not a mover (although I am a shaker.) Luckily, the firm is paying for the move - so, hopefully, all my stuff will be magically packed and whisked away and then whisked back into place when I find new digs. Ah, elves - you gotta love them.

I'm nervous and excited about starting Bar review. The end of law school has been pretty anticlimactic. Out of the frying pan and into the fire - I'm done with law school and exams....except for the Big One. Lawyers talk about the Bar exam like veterans talk about "the War," or mothers talk about labor.