My LSAT Experience

Alright already...I will talk about the damn test.

Though the LSAT is intended to test your ability to succeed in law school, and therefore doesn't have specific subjects to memorize or particular facts to know, you still have to study your hams off (as previously mentioned).  I decided to take my LSAT in October of 2011.  The test is also offered in December and sometime in the summer, let's say June; but I wanted to finish all of my applications before December.  After three months of studying, I believed I was ready.

Test day is no joke.  The rules are set in stone and no one can get around them.  You must register within a specific time frame to get a spot for the test, and testing centers are limited with regard to seats.  I registered  couple months ahead, took that day, and the day before, off from work.  The testing center rules are as follows:

1. Show up a 45 minutes before your test time to check in
2. Bring your LSAT form (printed offline) with a passport photo stapled to it
3. Bring a government issued ID to the center with you
4. Bring old school, #2 pencils along, no fancy mechanical pencils allowed
5. No cell phones allowed in the building
6. No digital watches (but you need an old school one to time yourself during the tests)
7. You can bring a bottle of water and a snack for your break if desired
8. Everything you bring must fit in a quart sized bag (airport security style)
9. No gum or happiness allowed

There could be a few I am forgetting, but you get the gist.  These rules are not able to be bent.  If you forget something or if you bring something you are not supposed to, you're out. They don't care about the $160 you paid to take the test or how many nervous breakdowns a dismissal will cause, the rules are unbreakable.

Thankfully, I prepared in advance.  There were only (3) law school hopefuls that I saw kicked out of my testing center.  I actually wasn't all that nervous.  I studied, I was confident, and I woke up in enough time to even straighten my hair. As recommended, I had driven to the test site the day before to ensure that I wouldn't get lost on test day (showing up late, you guessed it = dismissal).  I also bought an old school watch with hands just for the occasion so that I would be able to monitor my time.  At the beginning of each section, I wound the minutes hand to 12, and closely kept track as it inched toward the 35 minute mark.  As I walked into the test center (which was held at a local public university), I couldn't help but amuse myself by guessing who would make a 136 on the test.  Some kids showed up in pajamas.  Some tried to sport that awful Kanye style and wear stupid glasses they don't need and high tops with some social message about their badassness printed on their shirt (Che Guevara, anyone?).  I shouldn't judge, but I'm a superficial American girl.  Take it or leave it. 

Ohhh I bet he's so deep and intriguing.
I really didn't understand why we had to show up so early.  Every 5 minutes or so, a homely old proctor would come out into the lobby and give the same speech about not having cell phones, needing pictures, no gum, etc., all the things we had been emailed about for several weeks already.  Our testing rooms were determined alphabetically by last name.  When it was finally time to go in, everyone rushed the doors and waited their turn to get their plastic baggies checked.  The proctors were awkward and badly dressed, and they stared at your ID and passport photo like you were McLovin at the liquor store.  Seating was assigned, naturally.  We sat a few seats apart from each other, which didn't really matter since the tests were not identical (sections were ordered differently for each tester). I felt a little nostalgic when filling in the little bubbles with my name, test center code, date of birth, and social security number.  It all reminded me of the same process I had completed for high school.  The LSAT is not a computerized test, like many modern testing is.  I like it better that way, looking from my scratch paper to the computer screen and back again is so maddening; plus I like to mark the hell out of my reading sections. 

Onto the test.  My test was ordered by the following: arguments, games, critical reading, arguments, writing section.  The arguments were a breeze.  I wish I could remember at least one to place here, but there were so many that I can't recall anything.  I did follow the advice I read in my Princeton Review book of skipping the ones that I had to re-read more than once, and the ones that just frazzled my tender little brain in general.  There were perhaps one or two that I just picked "d" on (which I knighted my letter of the day). The next section, naturally, I was initially excited about. If you're not familiar with the games section, please see my previous post, "All the Things You (N)ever Wanted to Know about the LSAT."   I tore open the section, scanned each one of the games, and decided my order.  As I started to work the first game, I realized, I was in deep shit.  The game was a lot harder than it initially looked.  The trick to the games section is, however, not to give up on a game that you have started.  The time invested categorizing the clues and drawing your inferences is too precious to be lost.  As I trudged through it, answering maybe 4 out of 7 questions, I looked down at my watch. Oh Sweet Infant Baby Jesus, it had been 12 minutes.  I had 3 other games that I hadn't even started, and I only had 23 minutes in which to do so.  I lightly shaded in "d" on the questions I had still not figured out.  The next games were a bit of a blur.  You see, testing under pressure is good, but testing under panic is no bueno (see Figure B).  The entire time I was working on the other games, my head was still churning over the first game that I had botched, and I was freaking out about the fact that I possibly wouldn't finish the games section at all.  The study guides give you mixed messages on this.  Some will say that if you are in a bind, it's better to excel on three games and fill in random answers on the one you did not complete.  Others will say that this behavior is too risky, and you should have practiced more, then this built in boot comes out through the pages and roundhouse kicks you in the gut.

I decided to avoid the surprise kick and attempt to finish them all.  This left me with about the same result as skipping a game altogether, because with each game there was one or two questions that I guessed on, plus the three from the initial one.  Overall, I skipped about 7 questions = one full game.  This left me feeling pretty defeated, especially since the most I had ever missed in one of my practice games sections was 4, and I had never run out of time or been completely stumped as I had this time.  There was still hope...since the game seemed very complicated, I kept my fingers crossed that this was the experimental section and that another games section would come up later in the test and save the game.  As you already know from above, I was wrong. LSAT, you are the devil. 

Figure B

The critical reading section was as expected.  There was one tricky side-by-side entry about some environmentalist river testing or something of the like. They didn't seem remotely similar but I drew inferences out of thin air and scored decently.

After the critical reading section, there was a little break.  We had 15 minutes to do whatever we pleased.  Some chose to make out with their significant others (or perhaps they were perfect strangers looking for a little stress release), some gobbled power bars, some told stupid frat stories or spoke to an uninterested audience about the banality of standardized tests.  I hit the restroom then sulked a little about my poor performance in the games section.  Another ID check on the way back in and we were set for round 2.

When I opened up the arguments section, I could literally see the hope of the University of Denver school of law fleeing from my future.  The games section would stand.  I felt defeated by the LSAC gods, whom I was sure were watching from some double sided mirror laughing their asses off.  They let me believe in a dream that I would have another chance, then changed their minds quicker than Romney's stance on abortion.  That was ok though.  It was time to suit up, and that I did.  I excelled in the last section, then breathed easy through the writing portion.

After 5 greuling hours, testing was over.  And good news! I was called into work that day.  This almost came as a relief. I could get random phone calls from needy clients needing 6 pens and a bottle of water ASAP, and that would take my mind off my churning stomach and aching head for the rest of the afternoon.

After the test, several emotions washed over me.  I felt relieved that it was all over.  I also wanted my scores like, right now.  I knew that the next couple of weeks, no matter how much I drank or how many awesome things I encountered, my desire to know my score would be constantly lingering at the back of my mind right beside cats and Latin men.

Two weeks later, results were emailed.  156.  Not bad, but also not great. I had a choice to make.  Test again, or rest easy with a decent score.