Originally written October 2, 2006
Ragnarok’s end. There he stood on those battlefields in the great Valhalla, looking over the wrath of destruction and chaos he left in his wake. As he threw his sword towards into the night sky, he watched its path as it traveled towards the heavens and asked the powers that be to never make him fight this particular battle again. For in the end, the battle was won, and although unscathed, the memories remained. There would be no rest for the weary though, as a new campaign bourn from the spoils rose across the horizon like phoenix from her ashes.
The moments surrounding the bar exam were captured by bookend confessions in the appropriately titled Ragnarok and The Best at What I Do Ain’t Pretty. Let me leave no doubt in the minds of my detractors who visit this confessional so often. For the big bad Jay has passed the Illinois Bar exam. Coupled with the fact I achieved the minimum acceptable score on the professional ethics exam last spring, I am, in fact, a lawyer.
On the last day of September, I moved from mainland Mong Kok, one of the most densely populated areas on the planet, to the west end of the island, a not yet gentrified part of the city that still retains its pre-war brick streets and old world touch. I knew that the first time the results could posted online was around noon my time the following day, when midnight to begin October caught up with you. I dreamt of passing the Bar. I woke up in the morning as calm as can be. I took a walk and found some lunch.
Side note: Wandering around the old world streets of Hong Kong I stumble across a Hardees. You cannot even find a Hardees in the states anymore yet here’s one a few blocks away selling the strangest food that has never appeared stateside. End note.
As I walked back the new apartment, I thought that in about twenty minutes the Bar results could be posted and this nine week wait for the results would come to an end. So I did what any Irishman would do…got a shot of whiskey from a little bar. Confidence in hand, on the other of the planet but across the wonders of instant messaging, Cass and I checked the results together. And we are lawyers.
The next ten minutes brought about a range of emotions. Just as I did after finishing the exam months ago, I pointed up to Valhalla, threw back a beer, and sang Baba O’Reily at to the delight of all my little foreign friends here.
As fate would have it on the same day, the Chinese celebrated their communist takeover anniversary. So I had my celebration dinner at Dan Ryan’s Chicago Bar, watched the fireworks shot off from the harbor, and rocked the night away in the Irishman’s style.
I’m a lawyer. With the capacity to get us into and out of more serious trouble than ever before.
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