It’s been a long time, shouldn’t have left you…


So I’m on the last Edgware train from embankment, having stumbled from the Knights Templar– a firm fav owing only to exceptionally priced alcoholic drinks. I am Fucked on a different level. We’re going to soMe place called proud and are on the guestlist but feel a crazy level of hammered.

We don’t have lectures on a Friday, so of course whe my friend suggested a bender I was keen.

Just coming up to proud. Write later x

Cute boy speaks


After hours and hours and hours of painstaking work, I have finished the work for my sgs’.

Aside from that I have discovered that we are finally to have a social! It’s for all law schools at all the inns of court after our induction session. This excites me.

Anyway, before my SGS I decided to have a coffee. I’m no longer rich enough to go to Starbucks, having spent a small fortune there last week (and also, having discovered that there is a little cafe thing in our law school). I decided to have filtered coffee from our so-called canteen. I sat down with the Times and read. After about two minutes The Shagger took a seat on my table and asked if I minded. We spoke about stupid things like how we found the course and a bit about what we did before the bvc. Whilst these were not particularly interesting, The Shagger managed to speak with such charisma, it didn’t really matter that, if written on a piece of paper, what he said to read wouldn’t be particularly interesting. He made what he said come alive. He will make a fantastic barrister. He, understandably, already has pupillage.

Then Cute boy sat down soon after. Not half as charismatic but twice as gorgeous. Is it wrong that he’s a few years younger than me? He doesn’t look it (my flatmate’s retort was- oh yeh, my GFs four, but as long as she doesn’t look it… Idiot!). A few years surely doesn’t matter? Besides, he is mature for his age. And very nice to stare at. Sadly, I cannot see us speaking to each other until the lecture on Thursday, which is not so ideal.

Nonetheless, I went to my SGS with a skip in my step- contact with cute boy has been made!

I soon discovered that half the reading I did for the SGS was pointless. I stayed up late last night to do it, and for nothing it seems.

Anyway, ponce boy (“oh I own half of england…”) and nerdy boy have formed a little alliance, with quiet girl following like their groupie. I have befriended a quirky boy. Neither of us are that eager to make a mark on our tutors and dislike ponder boy alot.

I’m off to do more sgs work. Grr



It’s a week that I’ve been here and the amount of scandals are limited. I am desperate for a big event to:

A. Get to know everyone
B. Have a little bit more excitement in my life than I currently do.

Someone needs to get off their arse and sort something pronto!

Spotted the cutie in my lecture yesterday. Having an Unrequited crush is a horrible thing!

Anyway, now to a weekend of relaxation.

Introducing: The shagger, Miss Well-to-do, and The Joker


So it appears I’m not the only person avoiding eye contact this morning.

Apparently a few people went to the pub down the road after drinks. Some of them knew each other from FRU or something. Anyway, they cleaned up in terms of drinks at the function yesterday (as not many people were there), got plastered at the pub, and then two of them went off on their own and went back to his place! Said girl is in a uni hoodie today (unlikely to be, though possibly, hers), whilst he looks like the cat that’s got the cream. GDL scholarship guy went to uni with the said boy, and apparently he’s always been a bit of a shagger and has not, to date, had a gf. Spoke to him today- he’s quite good looking, and has an accent from Essex. His father set up a building company and he’s allegedly incredibly rich because of it. You wouldn’t know it to look at him; He’s not ‘pretty’ or polished, but a bit scruffy and is quite charming because of it. I can see how he got with arguably one of the better looking girls at bar school.

We all went to lunch together today, and after getting teased for chatting up McWitty (the funny tutor), an equally funny bar school student (“the joker”) that ended up going to the pub started laying into Miss Well-to-do (the person that shagged the shagger). Rather than being embarrassed about it, she relished in the attention and said how she “loved a bit of rough”. She told us how her last boyfriend was a semi-pro footballer and “quite common” (her words not mine), and she said she’d rather it that way; “they’re usually easier to minipulate”. She’s a bit of a wanker but it was funny watching her trying to catch his eye in the lecture theatre in the afternoon and being completely ignored! Easier to minipulate? Yeah. Right.
He was walking with a rather dishy fella, who I hadn’t seen before, and we briefly caught each other’s eye. Okay, I know I’m not 5, but this was the most exciting thing that had happened all day (except for hearing the shagger and miss well-to-do’s liasons).

After the lecture I went in the lift to get my books from my locker and who walks in but McWitty. It was so painful.
He said ‘hello’. I said ‘hello’ back. We avoid eye contact. The lift ride was easily THE longest ride I’ve ever been on. I get off the lift, with a tight fake smile and say bye. I practically trip as I get off. Slick.

Miss well-to-do and a few people I hadn’t met before had a few drinks after lectures, and I managed to be slightly more restrained than the previous night. Our conversation consisted of us bitching about legal research which we HAVE to do. My friends at the Inn said that it was being eliminated this year as a module. They lied. It’s So very long, and So very boring.

Anyway, I managed to make it home with my dignity mostly in tact, and by not insulting people. I think things could be looking up!



I feel utterly horrific. I don’t know how this is possible- I went to bed early, I drank water before going to bed. I should be perky. Instead I feel like crap; my head is spinning, I just feel groggy. Is this a symptom of being 24? Am I unable to endure drinking and then get up early on a school night?This is not a good feeling. I am never drinking again.

My first day


Hello… Is it me you’re looking for?


Well tough.

You’ve arrived at my blog, and I want scandals. Big ones, small ones… Any will do. I want to uncover the naughtier side of the bar. Today, on my very first day of bar school, i was told that the bar is an honourable profession. Babybarista (, whilst being a fictional blog, has taught me that this may not be the case. There are mischievious people everywhere, and I’d quite like to uncover the world that precedes being called to the bar. It may be that I’m bitterly disappointed, and infact, everyone is very respectable. If this is the case, then my blog will simply document my life at bar school for the year. It will not be scandalous. To misquote Oscar Wilde: I enjoy gossip, as long as it’s not about me. (I couldn’t be bothered to google the quote, I’m too drunk, but I read it on a fleeting fancy’s favourite quotes on facebook. I don’t remember who that person is now. That is how much I fancied them).

Irrespective of the quote, if none of you write in with scandals, or if i don’t hear about them myself, you’ll get stories about me going to lectures (called LGS’s according to my course documents) and seminars (apparently called SGS’s). The choice is yours.

When you get to law school, everyone seems to love three letter abbreviations. When I was but a history undergrad, the only abbreviations I had were UG and SU. Doing the GDL up north, I became more acquainted with slightly longer abbreviations. Now that I’m in the big smoke, it seems everything is abbreviated.

Anyway, please send scandals (old and new) to:

In the meantime, you’ve got me to tell you of my life at bar school.

This morning, with my empty suitcase in hand, I embarked upon my first day of bar school.

Whilst I’ve been living in The Smoke for over a month now, I’m still finding it difficult to get used to how crowded the tubes are. I just about managed to squeeze onto a packed central line train (not the easiest thing with a suitcase in hand), and was hit with the fragrance I faced most mornings with my commute to work as a temp; Au du sweat. All those fans of AnchorMan (and residents of London) will know that the smell on the tube is not too disimilar to SexPanther- it’s a formidable scent, it stings the nostils.

As I walked to law school from the tube, I pass a starbucks and as I’m early, decided to grab a latte. Unsuprisingly, it appears half of bar school had also decided to arrive early and get a caffeine buzz. I looked around, sadly no good looking guys around, which is, I suppose, typical. Of course I came to bar school to become a barrister, but if there’s good looking guys to look at whilst doing it, then good. If not, then the rumours I heard were true- guys who do the BVC are unattractive. The only reasonable (reasonable being only just better than average) looking men on the GDL with me, went to do the LPC. I almost believe it’s part of the criteria for city law firms: must go to a good uni, must be reasonably competant, must be attractive to entice clients (into doing deals with us, rather than anything else… But any stories you’ve heard are more than welcome!!). The more attractive, the more likely to get into a magic circle firm. Those guys doing the acceleration LPC must be yum. I will look out for them in due course.

After getting a take away coffee, I get into law school. Everything’s shiny and corporate looking, and not quite how I expected it (I chose this law school having not looked around it on the basis that I was told it was the best).

The day itself was fairly uneventful. I collected my books (the heaviest books ever. If you haven’t seen professional law books before then you’ll have no idea how heavy they are) and placed them in my lovely new suitcase, which once filled no longer looked so lovely. The suitcase zips strained as I attempted to force all the books in. I hoped the suitcase would last the whole day. I met my tutor group and we had to reveal 3 facts about ourselves. I was glad to discover they weren’t all jumped up wankers (but of course there’s always the exception, so when we were asked to say three things about ourselves, one of them told us he owned x acres of land as one of his facts). I also went to lectures, and spotted someone I befriended at my Inn’s scholarship interview before the GDL, so stuck with him generally.

We then had the drinks evening.

To be fair, not many people went, which was a real disappointment. I thought i’d have more of an opportunity to meet new people. This meant more wine for me, and more of an chance to speak to tutors.

Wine + tutors = not good.

One of the tutors who lectured us that day was rather funny (by that I mean entertaining rather than weird). Infact, he’s so entertaining it made him attractive.

He spoke to me and I began to drawl on ‘oh, you’re SO funny!’. He graciously said ‘that’s nice of you to say’. I continued complimenting. It got embarrassing. My new pre-GDL scholarship friend felt uncomfortable and left. I got nervous, so kept speaking, and digging more and more of a hole for myself. He eventually said ‘will you excuse me a minute’.
Oh. Dear.
My BVC tutor now undoubtably believes that I fancy him. I then somehow managed to insult a perfect stranger by talking about pupillage interviews and then complaining about this horrible question about euthanasia (which before the interview I hadn’t formed an opinion either way) and told him that in the interview I said it was terrible. He asked my reasoning for my response, which i admitted was incoherent at best. He then told me that his grandfather had gone abroad when he was in the latter stages of cancer and in unbearable pain to end his life. I didn’t know where to look or what to say.

So all in all, a successful day at bar school!

Despite making an utter fool of myself i merryily got the tube home, and swayed whilst standing up, with my suitcase filled with thick legal books. I walked from the station over-enthusiastically, over the cobbled pavement. The suitcase jumped slightly, my suitcase came down with a crash and I succeeded in breaking a wheel on the first day I used it. Finally I was at the flat and I pressed for the lift. I wait a little while. I was still swaying. I pressed the button again. Still nothing. The one day I was going to be carrying Michelle McManus’ weight in books, the lift was fucking broken. And I live on the top floor. So in a drunken stupor, I dragged my broken suitcase up the 6 flight of stairs. I vowed never to drink again, even though i was sober by the 6 flight.

So here I am now in my bed, on my laptop, feeling sorry for myself. And rightly so!

Was your first day worse or better? I would like stories please, and I may publish them.