Today I scouted Bratton Hall, the site of the test. It's remarkably non-ugly, given that it's on the University of New Mexico's campus and it hasn't been built within the last five years. It has its own parking lot designated by passes marked 'L' and I'm guessing that 343 students can't fit their vehicles within the allotted half-acre. There are even four spaces near the front of the building marked 'NM Judiciary' whose signs indicate a $100 ticket for parking in them. This creates financial incentive for the desperately tardy to take a parking spot away from a cripple, until one adjusts for karma.

However, they are future lawyers. Maybe karma's a concept you just have to check at the door.

I sat at my kitchen table for three hours and forty-five minutes this afternoon, doing my third LSAT diagnostic exam. I definitely believe practice is the better part of improvement here, since I scored a 162 on April 23 and a 173 today. While I'll feel better having the score materialize in my email simultaneously with the files of the Law School Data Assembly Service, I'm definitely encouraged going into the event. If I actually manage to score a 173, it would put me in the 75th percentile or higher at all law schools but the top eight or nine for LSAT scores.

What that will mean in terms of my applications, I don't yet know. University of New Mexico looks damn good at $5,000 a semester in tuition, regardless of how well I score. Just so the vanishingly small sliver of the Earth which cares enough to read this far will know, my tentative school list is: Iowa, Indiana-Bloomington, Wisconsin-Madison, North Carolina-Chapel Hill, Pittsburgh, New Mexico and West Virginia. University of Texas at Austin is a fantasy I will entertain if my skill check comes back positive. The top four choices also have highly ranked business schools attached to them, important to me because of the JD/MBA option. If the FAA has taught me anything, it's not to rely too much on the market for any one skill, even if the market for law is far more broad.

On a personal note, I met Suzanne's parents this past weekend. I didn't sense immediate loathing, and hopefully I cemented that non-loathing by flipping for dinner at the Standard on Sunday. I'd really like her to occupy more of my time after the Test Which Determines All Else.

13 days, 11 hours, 34 minutes, 59 seconds. Tick-tock, Clarice.

EDIT: Oh yeah, I got my first radar certification at ZAB the Friday before last. If you fly within a hundred miles southeast of ABQ between Tuesday and Saturday, you might just hear my warm, comforting voice. Also, if I tell you to turn thirty degrees left or right immediately, I really need it. Thanks.