My cousin wants me to start a legal blog called “The Gift of PersuAsian”, it’ll be about my endeavors to become a lawyer in the real world. Given the popularity of legal shows (hi, suits, ally mcbeal, boston legal, franklin & bash, and anything david e. kelley has ever created), it might be fun. Then again, there’s no dearth of legal blogs out there, written by people with snarkier chirps, and more access.

In the meantime, I took the fuckin’ bar exam. No, wait, I took two bar exams: NY & MA. I feel confidently bad about both of them, and can’t wait to receive the news that I failed in November. I already know how it will play out: The list of “passed” students will come out, listed by their assigned seat numbers. I won’t see mine. I will be immediately crushed. I will then suspect I mis-remembered my seat number, and in a faint glimmer of hope, look up my assigned number again. Nope, it’ll be as I remembered it. The reality will become definite: I failed. My big plan is to land a solid employer before the bar results come out in November, and swindle them into loving me so much they’ll keep me on. I know, it sounds like a Telemundo character’s scheme for snaring her husband through a fake pregnancy until she can get actually pregnant. Funnily enough, human deception is almost always the preferred course of action during human desperation.

Currently, I’m seated at JFK waiting to board my flight to South of France for my “bar trip”. Who created the idea of a bar trip? Certainly not graduated lawyers with $150k+ of debt and no job prospects on their hands.

Interruption: I love me some New York, but the mouthy girl in the Elvis Costello tshirt sitting next to me is not my preferred medium. She’s clearly with her mother, and they’re playing Words With Friends together. Adorable, I know. However, she keeps swearing at her mom “not to lose her shit”, and “to stop fuckin’ freaking out”, and it’s obvious this girl has no self esteem yet (probably because she’s overweight) and gets it all back by picking on her white-haired mother. If this was my PersuAsian daughter, I would probably pinch her ears. RIGHT MOM? Don’t worry, I will continue your cycle of scary parental-hate regime!

I'm clearly mental. ONWARD TO LONDON AND FRANCE.