Chipped Polish & Wornout Jeans

Sometimes I think I want too much out of life. And I don’t mean little things like the fact that I’d love to have more readers on my blog (although I really would) or finally mastering some recipe or losing the fifty or more pounds I need to lose. I want to do so much with my life, and some of it is all so different.

I want to change the world, make it better, and I want to practice law. For so long I’ve wanted to be a lawyer, and I’ve done as much as I can to make that happen. I’ve given up so much to do it. I feel like I lost Jake to my own ambition because I left before I should have; if I had stayed in TN just one more year instead of rushing off at the first change I got, maybe things would have turned out differently for us, and then maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely. But that’s not the point. The point is that I so desperately want to be a lawyer, and I’m so afraid that I may never become one. I don’t what I’d do with my life if I couldn’t go to law school and become a lawyer. I’d give everything to be able to do that.

But I also want to bake; I want to make amazing cookies and cakes. I think it would terrific to be able to make these fabulous creations that make people smile when they see them. How does that add up? I mean becoming a lawyer and owning a bakery, or maybe just a small shop that sell custom orders only. I love baking, and I love being able to be creative in the kitchen. I had so much fun baking my niece’s third birthday cake, and I would love to keep improving. My Grandmother offered to send me to classes to learn stuff, and I’m really tempted to take her up on that offer. It would be great to be able to really decorate cakes and to make those beautiful and adorable cookies I see on other food blogs all the time.

When I said that I want too much out of life, I meant it. You see I want to write. I mean really write. I’ve always been passionate about the written word both reading it and writing for myself. It should come as no surprise that I have read thirty two books towards my goal of reading one hundred books in the year 2012. Someday I’d like to be published. I’d like to write something amazing and brilliant, something worth reading. I have folders full of unfinished works that I just haven’t been able finish. I have so many ideas, and I just want to write everything.

I want so much, and I’m so afraid that I want to much. I want to write and bake and practice law. I want to be happy most of all. I want to be happy.

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In other news I have a new obsession. You can find me on pinterest! I don’t know what makes it so fabulous, but I love it.

Don’t you just hate it when you find a brand of clothing that just fits perfectly, only to have it discontinued? I have been wearing Arizona jeans for years, mostly because they are inexpensive while still looking nice. Well it appears that will no longer be the case. If they stop making shirts, shorts, and skirts, I’ll really be in trouble. Most of my wardrobe is Arizona, which is probably not a good thing, and I only own a few nice long sleeves shirts and sweaters. I have no clothes for warmer weather. I have two nice tank tops and three nice short sleeve t-shirt type shirts; I have no shorts, and no nice tops. Meanwhile I think I own one skirt, a short white eyelet number I bought while dating Jake because I wanted to be a girl for a change. I’m not even sure that the skirt will still fit me, and in any case, my thighs are so fat and my legs so pale that I highly doubt that I will be able to wear it ever again. Besides, I have no reason to dress all girl again at the moment.

I mentioned the fact that Arizona may be discontinued. Well, this leads to any number of problems, one of which is the fact that I have had to seek other brands for jeans. I went two Saturdays ago on a hunt for jeans, and I wound up with Levis. That is not the point of this entry. The point is that I had a minor breakdown over my body in the middle of Dillards because I felt fat and ugly. Let’s put it this way; I hate having to hear the words ‘we don’t have that in your size’ or any variation of that sentence. It never means that everything is too big. All my life I’ve dealt with it. I’ve put on a brave face and pretended it didn’t bother me for a long time. But lately my body image issues have been so terrible that putting on a brave face doesn’t exactly work for me. Sometimes I just can’t. Two sales girls asked us if we found everything alright, and I lied and said yes, even though I wasn’t having an easy time finding pants in my size at all. My grandmother was with us, and of course she tells the girls no that I’m having trouble ‘finding jeans to fit me’. From there it was go go gadget emotional breakdown, and I exited the store through the nearest door to avoid sobbing in the middle of the juniors department.

Here’s the deal, clothes for women my age, early to mid twenties, are generally one of two things: expensive or cut too small for me. I’m a curvy woman with wide hips, a big butt, and a decent bust line. I’m also built tall and long, meaning that everything is too short. I have to buy jeans labeled ‘long’ and unless I flatten my stomach shirts are impossible because my torso is long too. I have broad big shoulders and a wide rib cage, which makes me feel like I’m built like a man most of the time. I don’t feel pretty, and I’ve never felt pretty. It isn’t fair, but it’s what I deal with daily. I want to dress in something other than t-shirts and jeans, but it’s very difficult when clothes are cut narrow and short. My wardrobe staples are jeans, t-shirts with either sponsors for the race cars or my nerdy vintage green lantern t-shirts, and tennis shoes. None of that is remotely feminine or sexy at all.

I started to want to look more feminine when I was maybe a junior in high school, but I’d always been a tomboy. I love clothes and I love doing my nails now, but when I was thirteen and fourteen, all I cared about was four wheelers, horses, and the great outdoors. I didn’t know how to balance it, and I still really don’t. Suddenly I wanted to feel pretty. I wanted boys to like me and think I was pretty. But most of all, I wanted to feel like I belonged. By the time I was in college I was completely on my own again. My boyfriend lived in another state, and I was scrambling to make friends. I had no reason to dress up other than for mock trial, and that only required a black suit and heels.  When my boyfriend returned I wanted to be pretty again, remind him of why he started dating me, but I wasn’t very good at it. I’m still not good at it.

I’ve improved some I suppose. I know how to put on eyeliner and make up, and I know what does and does not flatter me. I like to paint my nails, and I don’t mess them up as much. But I still feel unattractive most days, and I feel like my clothes make me look even worse.

When you are a child you don’t realize how much more there is to losing a loved one than their death. You don’t see the extent of the sickness if they are ill or the difficult choices about medical treatment and care. You only know that your loved one is gone. Being an adult and dealing with it is so much more difficult. I’m learning that now as I sit here, blogging from the hospital room where my Nanny, a woman who has been a very large part of my life, is slowly dying. My Nanny is possibly suffering from a very rare degenerative neurological disease called Atypical Motor Neuron Disease; it is incurable and will eventually claim her life. This has really affected my family, especially my mom who was always close to her mother, and that tears me apart because I am very close to my mom, to the point that I will go to blows with people who mess with her. The family drama that is happening due to crappy relatives only makes this worse.

Right now, as I sit here, my Nanny is dehydrated and a bit emaciated because she cannot eat due to her inability to swallow and she made it very clear that she did not want anything invasive like feeding tubes; my mom and I come and stay at the hospital almost everyday, and early in the week we were actually sleeping at the hospital because we weren’t sure she was going to last the night. We are practically living in the hospital room at the moment. The sad thing is that, while we don’t want a pat on the back or anything, no one seems to appreciate the way we are sacrificing and suffering, and instead either we are ignored or it is implied that we are doing this out of a guilty conscience. We have nothing to be guilty about because we have always taken care of Nanny and been there for her. So all of the drama that is happening on top of my mom losing her mother. Soon I will only have her recipes and the memory of her voice, and I’m not sure how to handle it. I love my Nanny, and I will miss her so much; I already miss her. That is why I’ve made up my mind that the bakery and sweets shop I plan to eventually have will be called “A Taste of Joy” in honor of Barbara Joy Smith, my Nanny, the woman who opened my eyes and introduced me to the joy of cooking.

When I was younger, only about eight or so, I lost my Granddaddy to lung cancer, and I remember only understanding that he was gone. And when I lost my Pa and then my Papa within a few months of each other I was in high school; I was not involved in the decision making process or any of the drama that happened afterward. Now it is entirely different. There are people who must must be called and choices about her care, and most of that is falling to us; the problem is that those who don’t want to make the choices are not happy with the choices we make. It is a painful vicious cycle, and it feels like we simply cannot win. And while I know there is no real victory here, I simply wish there was a way to make things better for my mom, who is suffering because she is losing her mother. I wish my family hadn’t lost their ever loving minds and decided that this is the perfect moment to stir up drama and cause fights, and I wish that we could have peace in this family for once because it is something my Nanny has always dreamed about.

Guess who’s size thirteen jeans are getting to big? Ok, so I guess that sounds like a ridiculous thing to brag about, but for me the fact that my jeans are too big and that I needed to get a tighter belt is a huge victory. I hadn’t been paying much attention to my progress, mainly because I haven’t had time or really been out in public worried about my appearance. Too busy with the remodel and website to care. However, I’m pleased to report that I am approximately one third of the way to my weight loss goal. I’ve lost thirty to thirty-five pounds, which only leaves me with about fifty to lose! I know that sounds like a tiny amount to brag about considering how much I need to lose, but I’m so excited by the fact that I’m making any progress at all.

I’ve taught myself to eat healthier and pay more attention to portion control; this means that I can eat less and still be full! To be honest, my dietary habits were pretty atrocious before, and a great deal of that has to do with the fact that as little kid my family sort of let me eat whatever I wanted. Part of being Southern is the idea that we bond over food; I tend to blame it on the scarcity that came from the War Between the States (That’s Rebel for Civil War). This leads to the fact that people expect me to eat a great deal more than I do now; I used to eat piles of food, and I’m pretty sure only my metabolism and active childhood kept me from becoming dangerously overweight. This fact brings me to my point.

It’s difficult for me to maintain my healthy diet and eating habits when I have my family breathing down my neck about me not eating enough. On more than one occasion it has been insinuated that I am starving myself to lose weight because I ate small portions, and suddenly people seem to notice when I refuse to eat things I don’t like because it makes my already small meals look smaller. Being constantly told that you don’t eat enough can be just as bad as being told that you eat too much. 

Blogging is hard; sometimes as badly as you’d like to write, you have nothing to say. And rambling about how your day sucked just doesn’t cut it. I honestly have had trouble coming up with things to write about lately. I hate to blab on and on about nothing, which is pretty much what is happening right now. I mean, I suppose I can give a brief update, but that’s about all I’ve got.

Halloween is Tomorrow: I’ve got two pumpkins and a ton of candy. I will carve the pumpkins some time tomorrow and hope that we get a few trick or treaters. There will probably be maybe ten I will have lots of leftover candy. Hopefully I’ll have pictures of the pumpkins.

NaNoWriMo Starts Monday: National Novel Writing Month! I am participating this year, and fingers are crossed that I actually pull this one off; I’m going to be working on Redemption.

I have a cooking blog: Check out my cooking adventures at The Sassy Southerner’s Kitchen.

In the land of Nic there has been much unrest. Mostly due to the fact that the job market is for crap. I have resigned myself to looking at retail and temp work since I will not be working in law school. I got some well meaning but bad advice from people, and never got a job during school. "Focus on academics" they said. Well I did, and while my grades were very good, I have zero work experience; this adds to my difficulties in a fairly large way. The main problem around here is that no one is hiring, not even for part time. The temp agency show only jobs looking for two to three years of specific experience for the job. I guess I will just have to keep hunting.

The great sink hunt has come to an end, as has the hunt for a faucet; we ordered the sink this morning and it should be here soon. Operation remodel is about to commence and its going to be massive. Paint colors have been selected, as has the flooring and backsplashes. Everything has been picked out and slowly but surely we are collecting the supplies. It will not be long before the project actually begins. With the racing season coming to a close for my father, except for a reruning of the BG Combo early next month, there will be lots of tearing down and repair and making of messes.

Well ladies and gentlemen of my readership, what few you are, today is the day I stop procrastinating and start getting healthy. I know I've said it a thousand times, but this time I mean it. This time it's become a neccessity, and it's going to be a priority. I know that this seems melodramatic, but my dear readers, I have had it with hating my reflection. Once upon a time I was merely out of shape, now I am down right fat. I am angry and disappointed in myself for ever letting it get this far. The time had come to stop letting my hips, waist, butt, and thighs expand. I am 22 almost 23 years old for heaven’s sake. There is no excuse for me looking like this. None at all. So I'm going to set some rules, just some basic things for me to remember.

Rule One: No more excuses for not working out or doing some sort of exercise. No more of this it's too hot outside to go for a run or a walk. Even if I'm cramping so badly that I want to cry, I will do some sort of exercise.

Rule Two: No more of this nuerotic obsession with certain parts of my body. I'm going to think of this not as "Holy mother, I need to shrink my huge thighs and chubby stomach", but instead I will think of this as I need to trim down all over and get healthy. I know that I need to lose wait, but instead of focusing on OMG FATNESS, I'm going to focus on getting into shape.

Rule Three: No more being a snack/treat nazi to myself. Instead of swearing off all sweets and all snacks (which only makes me run out and binge when I get the chance), I'm going to think of it as a reward. I worked out and got something done today, so I can have a piece of cake or a cookie or a candy. As for snacks, I will have a snack between dinner and supper, but only then, instead of saying no snacks ever.

Rule Four: I will only measure my waist, hips, and chest once every two weeks. I will not focus simply pounds lost, but rather on inches lost. This is not just about losing fat; it's about rebuilding muscle. I will measure success by dropping pants, dress, and shirt sizes, and not just on dropping 30 plus pounds.

So this is a difficult post, but I promised myself that I would write about everything. So here goes. Sometimes in life we make choices that we think are right but in the end turn out to be wrong. Sometimes what we think is the smart move turns out to be a mistake. I am experiencing that now. I got a letter, in June of last year, telling me that I had been accepted to law school in L-ville; after much deliberation I decided to go, even though it was not where I really wanted to attend. At the time most people were encouraging me, and there was always an opportunity to transfer later. So I packed up my life and made the long drive up north; I left my family, my friends, and Jake. I thought I could do it, that even if the situation was difficult and unpleasant, I could power through three years. I was wrong. It was a mistake. I started feeling out of place almost immediately. The minute I started talking and folks sort of stared because I had a funny accent and used strange colloquialisms. I didn't belong there, but I took a deep breath and held my head high, pretended that I didn't need to feel comfortable. I was wrong. I knew something wasn't right, but I tried desperately to power through it. That was a mistake. Leaving was a mistake. I was so unbelievably wrong. Do I regret it? No. I firmly believe that regret does nothing for you. No regrets, just lessons learned. So what now? I guess this is a year of no school for me, which means hunting a job and paying my loans. Hopefully, things will settle again, and I will figure all this out.

I made a huge mistake, and it had so not so pleasant consequences; it feels like right now God is giving me a reset, taking me back to before this happened. Not a rewind or restart, but a fresh start. I need that. I know, short entry is short, but I don't really feel like writing in length about this subject.

After reading an entry from one of my favorite blogs, Nat the Fat Rat, I feel rather inspired. Nat is inspiring because of her faith, her wit, her honesty, and her unending and true love for her husband; she is reading the Old Testament, and her latest entry about the women of Genesis got me to thinking. She found a connection with Rachel and so have I, but we have different reasons. So dear readers, here is another more personal entry at Chipped Polish & Wornout Jeans. The concept of "Let go and just let God" is not foreign to me, and its not a difficult concept to understand. However, it is a difficult thing for me to execute. The ideas that everything happens for a reason, what's meant to be always finds a way, and God has a plan are also not difficult for me. This brings me to the thoughts bouncing around in my head right now. I have always believed that I am the kind of woman who will not get things handed to me; I know that I may always have to fight for what I want. I can handle that. But sometimes life and the universe throw me curves, and I feel like I swing and miss. Lately I've felt like that a lot more than usual. So I've taken a step back, and I'm looking at all of this with fresh eyes. I take hope that God will remember me, and He will eventually put things together as they should be. Maybe it won't be with Jake, but I hope it will.

You see, I had a realization, one Sunday as I sat with Jake in the front pews of his church; he stood up to go lead the next song, and as we all I stood, I realized that God had picked him out for me to be with. And so I prayed that God would help me do what it took to stay with him, and to make me the kind of woman Jake deserves. I pray now that He will help to save my relationship, though it is in shambles, and it that is what is meant to be, I know that it will eventually happen. That realization was not the first, but it was one of many. None of those are blogged about here in C & W because they happened before I started this blog. The first occured the first Wednesday I went to church with him; there I was sitting in the Bible Study, and they were talking about how sometimes we set our minds to some sort of desire and fail to realize that God has other plans for us or refuse to accept it. My hands rested on my wornout pink Bible, and I glanced over at Jake. I realized then that I was doing just that, stubbornly clinging to a path that wasn't leading to where I should be. At that point I wasn't sure where my path was supposed to lead or what my path was supposed to be; I just knew my path was wrong. Then I had another realization, one more powerful. I was riding to church with him, and I was struck by how perfect it felt to be headed there with him. I knew in my heart that I belonged with him and that I was supposed to be on a path toward him, but it didn't sink in well I guess. Then came that Sunday morning, sitting in the front pews with him because he was leading singing that day, his arm around my shoulder, my eyes following along in the text, then watching as he stood up to lead another song. Everything seemed so right; I heard this voice telling me that I had to be strong, that I had to hold on, that I should not lose him. And so I tried my hardest to do just that. Then in January I had this realization, and I knew right then, where I was meant to be. All that time I had spent being a fool felt so wasted.

The story of Jacob and Rachel had special significance for us. Jake kept reminding me of that story, over and over, as we struggled to even be able to see each other. I grew to resent that story a little bit, perhaps because it did not give me the kind of hope I wanted or perhaps because I was just so frustrated and missing him so much. But looking at it now, I see it differently.The basic story goes like this. Rachel is the daughter of a proud and sneaky man, who tells Jacob he can marry her after seven years hard labor, and then pulls a sneaky trick by slipping Leah in at the wedding instead. Rachel is who Jacob loves most, and for Rachel he continues to work for his father-in-law. Genesis 29:20 “And Jacob served seven years for Rachel; and they seemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her.” It was always Jake’s constant reminder that we were so in love that even the longest time apart would seem short in the end. The story continues with Rachel’s struggle to have children, while her sister can easily have them. She prays and prays and begs God for help. Genesis 30:22 "And God remembered Rachel." She kept praying and talking to God and trying. And eventually God answered. That is what I take from the story now. God had a plan for her, and, when it was time, he Brought that plan to fruition. Her prays were answered, and she was blessed. I believe that God has a plan and that, whatever that plan is, He will work with you and bring it about.

Every time Jake and I would have some sort of trouble, be it a set back like my grades or the difficulty we had during Winter Break, I would pray that things would work out. I'd pray for us, pray that I would be a better girlfriend, more patient and less stubborn. Every time I did, I got the same answer "Be strong, have faith, it will all work out. Don't give up." It went something like this:

I had to move to L-Ville and prayed that we could handle the distance: "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up."
Getting into the same law school was going to be difficult and I prayed that even if we didn't we could handle it: "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up."
There was absolutely no way we'd get into the same law school and I prayed for strength and patience: "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up."
Jake and I were not on the same page mostly because I was an impatient fool and I prayed for help to become a better friend, partner, and girlfriend: "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up."
Jake called, deciding we were over and I prayed that we would be able to fix this: "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up."

Now I find myself on my knees praying that we can save us, that all is not lost. I pray that somehow, some way, the story is not over for us. I pray that we aren't broken forever. I still feel like I'm supposed to be with him. I still feel like that is the plan because I am still getting the same answer. "Be strong, have faith, it will all work out. Don't give up." Maybe the plan has changed, but I just don't think so. We'd come so far, and we were so close. We were so in love and so happy. I know that sometimes things happen and couples fall apart, but I just can't shake the feeling that things aren't right because we are apart. It doesn't make sense (but don't get me started on things that don't make sense). So I'm going to remember the story of Jacob and Rachel, and how God remembered Rachel and answered her prayers and brought His plan for her into fruition. And I'm going to keep praying even if the answer remains the same refrain. "Be strong, have faith; it will all work out. Don't give up." I'm going to what I need to do, and I will survive, no matter what the plan.

Last week, around Wednesday night, I finally broke my glasses. I couldn't even tape them to get through the week Harry Potter style. They snapped right in half at the nose piece. That meant that, while I had intended to stay at the Shoebox and work, I had to go home to the Boro for an eye exam to get new glasses and new contacts. I really love eye exams (haha, yeah right), especially the glaucoma test where they puff air at your eyeball. It always, I mean always, takes three or four times per eye to get it right. I spent Friday working on my brief (foul creature though it is) and watching curling. Saturday morning I went for my eye exam and then had a heart attack when I saw just how much it cost me to handle my eye issues. $75 for the exam, $50 for my contacts, $52 for my frames, and $110 for my lenses. That is outrageous, not going to lie. Our insurance doesn't cover contacts and glasses, just the exam, and I forgot to mention the insurance when I did the appointment, but it's really just a big hassle anyway. That afternoon though I got to see my cousin Erica's baby, and she is such a little doll. I didn't think I was ever going to see her (family issues suck), so I was very excited to see her. She looks like her mama, right down to the big blue eyes and chubby cheeks. I failed to take pictures, mainly because she was still dealing with a slight cough and runny nose after her bought with pnuemonia and the lighting was really bad. I promise that the next time I see her I will take lots and lots of pictures.

When I got home last night I didn't intend to go grocery shopping because I was really tired, but after seeing the ridiculous parking situation going on and realizing how much I would have to do tonight, I decided to go ahead and do my shopping. Of course that means going across the river to Indiana, but its not so bad when there is no traffic. I am one of "those people" when it comes to shopping. I don't just grab the first item I see. I am that woman you see studying a cut of meat to determine whether I like the amount of fat or looking through the apples to select shiny ones that are firm and nicely colored. I am a food snob, and I think you should be conscious of what you are putting in your body. Good ingredients make good dishes, and so when I'm picking out veggies to make a tomato sauce (which I can't do in the Shoebox because I have no blender and no room) I pick out the freshest tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions, for example.  On that note, I am making a diluted version of my father's "Savage's Dear God Lasagna", which is a version of my Aunt Bessie Petrillo's delicious recipe, and so I was picking out decent pasta, cheese, ground beef, and pasta sauce (I hate sauce from the jar, but can't make my own at the moment). I hate that I cannot afford several of the needed ingredients and thus cannot make a truly good lasagna, but I will survive. It will provide me with plenty of leftovers for lunches and dinners, which is always a plus.

I am not pleased with the current weather. It was very pretty this weekend, but not its gloomy and wet and unpleasant. Boo weather, you fail. This is not really worthy of a paragraph all to it's self, but its not related to anything else either.

I am well aware of how pathetic my last posts have been. Losing someone you love makes you feel pathetic though. I think that part of my problem is that I've let the pressure of law school, the unpleasantness of being fairly isolated, and the distance (and now the loss) cause me to become something I'm not. I know that I am strong; I've always been a strong person both mentally and emotionally. I'm stubborn, willful, determined, and I never give up. I hold my own even when I'm carrying the weight of the world. I take on everything, and I don't let things knock me down. I am independant. I can get by on my own. I have always said that I can live alone and get by without having someone, but I choose not to do it. I don't want to go through life alone, but if I have to, I can. But lately I've been crumbling. I let it make me soft, pathetic, and weak, and it started long before the recent insanity. Those are not attractive qualities, and this pathetic woman I seem to be right now is not the woman that Jake fell in love with. Perhaps that was part of what caused this to happen. I am working on it though. Yes, I hope that some miracle will happen, and things will go back to the way they were, when everything was good and happy and wonderful. But I'm not going to obsess over it, not going let it destroy me. Will I just forget it? No. Will I give up completely on saving something that means so much to me? No. But I am going to "woman up". I am going dig into my well of strength and independence and manage to get through things. I am a strong independant woman, and its time for me to be that woman again. I know I can do it, and I will.

Well, I have a lot to do and need to get started before I cook dinner. I will now leave you with a fun veiw of my to-do list for the week:

Late Monday night it started to snow, so much so that Tuesday's classes were canceled and we had a delay Wednesday. It's finally stopped, but we have six or so inches on the ground. Wednesday morning when I went out to go to class it took me forever to knock the snow off the blazer and then inch my way over the huge pile of snow where they plowed our parking lot. I love snow, but I don't enjoy the way it affects my usual routine. I'm a fan of snow, but not really winter or cold. On a positive note, until they scraped the sidewalks and the cars drove on it, L-ville was a pretty sight all covered in white.

Ok, so tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and, regardless of whatever relationship insanity I am currently experiencing, I will be spending it exactly as I had planned minus a phone call. I planned to use this weekend to work on my Brief (oh how I hate that Brief) and my outlines; I had also planned on calling Jake and telling him just how much I loved him, talking since we have been apart so long, and perhaps even plotting some sort of adventure to make up for the lack of V-Day fun that we would be experiencing. Now, I will just spend the weekend working on the Brief and outlining and writing a letter. Last Valentine's Day I got all girled up and sparkly, and I baked these killer cookies shaped like lips with red sugar sprinkles. They were brilliant and I was so proud of how they came out. Jake and I went out to Longhorn (My parents were there, only we somehow managed to not cross paths with them; what luck) and then to see The Pink Panther 2 because we had already seen Bride Wars (the only real date movie playing) two weeks prior. It was fantastic, and I still have the card that he gave me. I remember how he spent fifteen minutes or more writing in it while we waited to be seated. I miss those kinds of memories. This Valentine's Day I will spend the day in the Shoebox, surrounded by textbooks and case law. I will make bold, if fruitless, efforts not to cry like a little girl, and I will try to remain hopeful that some sort of miracle will take place.

I love my friends, my married friends, my engaged friends, my when the heck are you going to just give her a ring friends, my dating and happy to with their partner friends, and my single friends. I have friends who are married and not expecting children anytime in the near future; I have friends who are married and expecting their first baby, and I have newly wed friends. I also have friends who have been engaged and are rapidly approaching their wedding days, and I have friends who are newly engaged. I have friends who are dating wonderful people, and I have friends who should stop with the mushy facebook love and just get hitched already. I'm happy for all these friends, and happy for the single ones who are happy with being single. I think of all these friends with a smile and wish them the very best, but then I think of my current situation, which has brought me to tears, brought me to my knees, broken my heart, made me question lots of things, caused me to lose lots of sleep, messed with my appetite, and in general messed me up. I cannot count the number of times that I have reached for the phone, trying to get up the courage to even talk to him. Every time I think that I can manage to just say hi, I panic, drop the phone, and bite back tears. The number never gets dialed, and the text is never even started. There are so many things I want to say to him, but I feel like he is avoiding me, like he will keep avoiding me until I give up on us. But I can't give up, I just can't. He seems to be operating just fine without me, but I'm falling apart inside. I love him. Is that wrong? Am I supposed to just kill those feelings? Because I can't do that. If I could just move on, if I didn't feel like this is all wrong, if I didn't have this feeling that I'm not supposed to give up on us, I would.

I still don't understand why it happened. I'm afraid people think that I hurt him, that I did something horrible. Isn't that funny? A part of me wants it known that he chose to break it off, not me. A part of me wants it understood that I didn't leave him and I didn't walk away. I guess the evil and sarcastic Nic would rather not have the idea that she hurt the man she loves, that she walked away from it, that she gave up on the best thing that ever happened to her, floating around out there. Maybe I'm not so strong and mean and nasty after all. I'm so afraid that I screwed up our relationship; in fact, I'm almost positive that something I did ruined it all. You see, once upon a time there was this woman and this man, and they met at just the right moment in a classroom. They were both a little bit lost, and they found each other. It was good, and it was wonderful, and it was everything love is supposed to be. But she was all damaged, and she let her fear and stupidity get in the way. She thought they could get passed it, and she thought they would be OK despite it all. But it wasn't, and she lost him. I'm so afraid that I did hurt him, that I did do something wrong. It hurts so much. I am so lonely, and I miss my other half. The thing is, I need him in my life, which may say sound insane, but I do.

So much is on my heart right now that I can't just let it build up; I guess I just need to blog it out for now. I don't keep a journal, so this is what I do. Maybe I shouldn't blog about this particular issue, but I promised myself that I would use this blog to chronicle my life through law school and beyond, and this is big part of my life. (Besides, I'm pretty sure I don't have a huge number of readers.)

Make-up miracles are in store in the life of Nic for a while, I think. Black eyeliner and mascara, strategically done in combination with the right amount of concealer and light eyeshadow, manages to cover the puffiness of my sleep-deprived, red teary eyes. Nothing will suck the pretty out of your face like the look of loss, hurt, and heartbreak; the one exception is that when I cry, the gold amid the green in my hazel eyes suddenly pops, and they look all bright and shiney. Funny fact: my eyes are pretty when I cry, the rest of me is not. That is what I've been doing off and on since Thursday night, crying my eyes out. I've also been doing a lot of praying and a lot of dragging myself  through my work at a snail's pace. I know that it sounds pathetic, but nothing seems right anymore. Who am I going to save the world with now? I would gladly let him go into politics and pass the laws that save the world and I will prosecute the offenders. He was my partner, my best friend, my better half. I need my partner back, the man who makes me grin like a fool for no apparent reason, who believed in me when no one else did, who brought me back to life so to speak. I would gladly give up everything I have just to have him back. I'm trying so hard to give him time, hoping that time will bring him around and we will be able to be together again. It feels so strange not to have text message conversations that last all day about nothing what-so-ever. I miss the way hearing my phone ring or feeling it vibrate and seeing that he was calling or that there was a text message from him. I wonder if he misses that too. I wonder if he misses the random, "I love you" texts, the random "I miss you" messages. I wonder if he misses the way we shared our inner hopes, thoughts, and dreams. I wonder if it feels as strange to him as it does to me not to be swapping texts about the little things that make us smile or laugh. I wonder if this hurts him as much as it hurts me. I'm afraid that he's gotten over me, over us, that he finds it so much easier to just move on and forget us. I'm afraid I've lost him forever.

Like I said in the last entry, I'm afraid this all comes from something I've done, and to be quite honest, I'm willing to change whatever that was. I will change my ways, my stupidity, my insanity. I will do anything I can. I will give up my vices, learn to watch my mouth. I will never talk about the future unless he brings it up. I will be nothing but supportive no matter what that means. I could care less about settling down and building the log house and all that. It doesn't matter anymore, and I don't think that it ever did. Everything is in better perspective now; none of those things mattered to begin with because the only thing that really mattered was being together, being there for each other, having each other to lean on, and loving each other. What mattered and what still matters is that we knew each other, we shared with each other, we were close, and we were just us and it was good. I had this happily ever after all thought out, but none of that matters without him. None of it does at all. I'm not sure that he will ever come back to read this thing (I know he used to read it because he would tell me what he thought), but if you are reading this Jake: I'm sorry if I ever made it seem like what mattered most to me was settling down and the future and all that other BS. None of that ever mattered so much as what was good about being together. None of it matters at all in comparison. I'm sorry if I allowed our spark to grow dim, darlin; I should've been paying closer attention. I'd give absolutely anything to fix that. I'm sorry if I did something to make you stop believing in us. I still believe; I really do believe in us. I'm sorry if I didn't show you just how much I appreciated what we had, and I'm sorry if I didn't show you just how much I love you and believe in you. I'm currently writing a letter, one that I don't know that I will have the courage to give to you, one that I'm not sure you will read, one I'm not sure really will matter much at all or do any good because if you have given up on us (a fact that I can barely stand to think about) then it won't really matter whether you know why I think this should be saved, that explains all of this so much better. It may seem sort of crazy  to say this here instead of directly to him, but sometimes I can write or type what I want to say better than I can every say it in person.

Some of my friends, well our friends, are already wondering what went wrong, and I don't know what to say to them. I love my friend Tiff because she is such a sweetheart; she was so concerned and so willing to help. "But you two were so perfect together... it was so obvious that you were good together. When you two were together you lit up the room. It was so clear you adored each other." She immediately wondered what was up with the sudden change and even offered to talk to him for me. I told her not to, that I didn't think that it was a great idea to interrogate him. (The idea that such an action would both make me seem pathetic and would push Jake farther away if there is a chance that I might be able to fix it). If I thought it would help, if I thought maybe it would do something to fix things and get us back together, I would let her ask, let her talk to him about it. But somehow doubt that it would do much good to have that happen. I guess that my best hope is prayer and patience (which I lack) and faith and the strength of heart and determination (which is something I've always had). So right now, I'm wandering about the world right now, pretending that I'm not falling apart, sitting in my classes, staring straight ahead, biting my lip really hard every time Jake's face flashes across my mind, fighting back the tears every time my heart starts aching because I think of something that I want to tell him or want to show him, and in general just taking a deep breath and grinding it out.

Pretty much I'm living this song by the Carter Twins:

Ladies and Gentleman of the reading audience, it breaks my heart to put this into words, and I will do this without using quotes from the actual conversation, simply because I care too much about the other half of this issue to humiliate him or hurt him.

The Jake and Nic show is over, canceled abruptly like Fox cancelled Firefly. It was not mutual, but maybe somewhere down the road, they will get signed for another season, (If I'm lucky anyway). I'm not holding out a great of hope because he seems to have made up his mind. So this will be my last entry tagged Jake and Nic unless a miracle happens. This how we got where we are. Apparently, he was feeling off about us, and being the inexperienced one he didn't tell me, and then last night when I finally get worried he calls and tells me that our spark is gone, that he no longer feels the way he did about me. I had to take off my ring and start changing all my stuff around. Needless to say that so far my weekend is dominated by tears and insane hopes and then more tears. I don't understand how you can be fine one month, and then suddenly you aren't anymore. Something had to go wrong, and I want to fix it. I love him, dear readers, and I love him more than I probably should if he doesn't love me (or if he doesn't think he loves me, if that's the case). I love him so much that it hurts. He still has my heart, and I don't want it back at all. In the year and three months we were together, I was the happiest I'd been in five or so years. Nothing fit so perfectly, not even the ex who I once thought that I loved. Nothing was as right as things were when there was an us. I want the chance to rekindle our spark, because if it went out it can be relit. Maybe he doesn't want me anymore though, maybe he's given up. I don't know, but I don't want to just be friends. I don't want have to go back to August and September 2008 when Jake and Nic were friends. I want to make a new start. Maybe we just need time, time apart to grow a little, time apart to realize what we had. Maybe we need a break, but I don't want that break to be permanent. I don't know, but I don't want this to mean the end.

I'm afraid, afraid I did something wrong. I'm afraid that I somehow became unattractive to him. I'm afraid that my personality changed and pushed him away. I'm afraid that me being crazy lately somehow drove him away. I'm afraid that I made a  bad impression on his family, that they didn't like me. I'm afraid my family scared him off (which is also something Mama is afraid of). And most of all I'm afraid that the fact that he's super involved in church and I can't be right now made him decided that it wasn't right. I was trying so hard to be involved and that's part of why I went to Gatlinburg with him. I was finally ready to do that. I wanted some much to be a part of that in his life, and I'm afraid that I didn't show him enough. I'm afraid that he thought that I didn't want to be a part of it and so we couldn't be together. I'm afraid we started moving too fast and that scared him. I'm afraid that's my fault, that because it kept coming up and I was dumb enough to think that it should. I'm afraid the distance messed things up for us. I'm afraid that I have lost the one man I love. But I don't want to lose him. It would be wrong to give up on someone like this.

I just understand how the feeling can just be gone all of a sudden. I don't understand how he could give up on us after we've been through so much already, after we'd come so far. Maybe I should just give up too, but I can't do that. I don't care about this distance or the difficulties. I don't care about the future right now or settling down or log houses or pugs or bulldogs or first apartments or any of that. I care about laughing over not being good at bowling. I care about holding hands and running from the rain. I care about Peter Pan and Tinkerbell in the parking lot after a ridiculous exam. I care about seeing movies about food when we're starving then getting milkshakes and burgers. Maybe that's what we need to get back to now. I don't know how, but I do know what I want. I'd like to get back to that happy place, with laughter, smiles, and flirting. I think we can, and I think that it would take some work. But I think that if we really cared and really tried, we could do it, provided that he hasn't already found someone to replace me. I love him, readers, and I want to get him back.

The lines from this song is playing in my head over and over:

So this morning my alarm clock was somehow set an hour fast. That means this morning I woke up at 6:45 instead of 7:45 (not so bad except that I couldn't sleep last night for reasons I'll discuss below), I ate breakfast too early and was starving halfway through Criminal Law, and I left the apartment at 7:40 instead of 8:40 panicking because I though I only had twenty minutes to get to the parking lot, get up the hill to the law school, drop my books off at my locker and get to Basic Legal Skills. When I pulled into the parking lot, there was no one there, and I grabbed my phone thinking they had canceled class and I hadn't checked. That was when I discovered that it was really only 7:49, I wasn't late, and that because of this I had time to run back to the apartment and pick up some things I forgot.

I try very hard to be zen about life and what it throws at me. I try not to stress so much about the things I can't change. But lately, its been getting harder. As Jake's graduation get closer and closer, the future issues become more and more real. Jake will go to law school, and I'm confident that he will get into one of the places where he wants to go. Those places don't really include L-ville, KY. I want him to go where he needs to be, and I want him to go where he will be happy. But it will kill me to know what that will mean. Its not a pleasant thought, the future as it stands. To be honest, I really dread the prospect of three years without seeing each other. We'd be lucky to even do holidays with our families at Christmas time. The problem with these feelings is that I have a bad habit of letting them escape at just the wrong moment. Like last night when Jacob called: We are talking about nothing in particular and he brings up his law school stuff and because I don't want to blurt out anything inappropriate, I get all quiet and what not. After we hang up, my mind begins to race and I think that maybe I should remind Jake that I am happy for him even though I get all weird on him. Well, that sort of exploded, and there we were texting in the middle of the night when normal people who have law school classes at 9AM the next day but no actual homework at the moment should be asleep. When this happens, it usually means that I get all stupid and text long messages while sitting in my apartment either crying or fuming about the situation. This time I was crying. It was ugly. And as usual, what I call my "Girlfriend Guilt"  kicked in and I couldn't sleep. The "Girlfriend Guilt" is this feeling I get when I get overly emotional and feel like I've been a crappy girlfriend for putting Jake through it.  The truth is that I really shouldn't do that to him. I know how much pressure he's under right now, and I know how hard it is to be applying for law school, doing Mock Trial, and taking difficult classes. Its not fair of me to add my emotional crap on top of that. I'm going to do my level best to stop doing that to him. I love him too much to be stupid enough to make life difficult.

I know I should focus on what time we do have to spend together, which is already fairly limited. I want to make the most of it, but its really hard to do when you get a date or lunch meeting or random hello every three weeks or more. There are only so many we can do on a Friday or Saturday night in the Boro. We've gone bowling more times than I can count, and that's fun. We've seen plenty of movies (I keep the ticket stubs cause I'm freak), and that's also fun. But I'm a memories kind of girl, and I want desperately to have some memories to look back on someday. I want memories of my life with the man I love. I don't want to look like back and say "those were the years when all we got were text messages and phone calls." I don't to look back and have to say "those were the years when we never saw each other." I want a little romance, which seems a bit pathetic but whatever. I don't how we're gonna make those memories, but I want to make them and will. You see, I'm a fighter, always have been. I know what I want, and I'm gonna have it. I just predict that my camera is about to see a lot of action.

The second semester is already in full swing here in law school land; this weekend will probably be my last moments of relaxation for a while because the grind has already begun in earnest. My planner is filled with appointments to meet with professors to review exams, which will not be a pleasant experience (especially for Torts, Property, and Legal Research), notes on assignments to read, research to do, and times to compile my notes for each class. Due to my unfortunate grades, I have to meet with the woman in charge of the academic success office, and its not something I like doing since she practically accused me of not working hard enough and in general this whole issue is really hard to deal with for me. I've always been the smart one, and sometimes that feels like all I have; my family introduces me as the smart child, and most of the time I feel like my intelligence is the only thing I have going for me. If I'm not smart then what am I? Who am I if I'm not the intelligent one? I am now stepping up my game, but this is going to be a very very long semester with a lot of hard work and grinding through it and not very much time to breathing. I predict a great deal of time spent alone in my apartment, doing nothing but work. It will be a miracle if I get time to work out, much less the time to see the people I love. I do not predict a lot of cheerful entries for folks to read. If you want to make a run for it now, I don't blame you. I'm definitely not going to be seeing a lot of TN, since going home typically means that I don't get much done. There will be some melt downs, and it won't be pretty. Hold on tight because we are definitely in for a bumpy ride.

I hate the way this all makes me feel, and I hate the way it makes me act. It's not fair to the people who have to deal with me on a regular basis. I have made my Mother worry (and Southern Mothers worry in general because its part of their charm) more than she needs to worry about her adult daughter. I've lashed out at people (more than my usual charming snark and snap), and its not been pretty. I snapped at my kid brother, my nerves are on edge, and even when I screw on that smile that Southern women are able to bring out even when they are standing among the spiralling chaos, its hard to make it convincing. It also makes me a terrible friend and partner, and I feel like I'm being a horrible girlfriend for Jake. Its hard enough having a long distance relationship, and then I make it worse by becoming this mess. He tries so hard to be supportive, to be there for me, and I tend to get snippy and nasty and I cry too much. Instead of making things better, I just make them worse. Lately I have not been the kind of girlfriend that a guy wants. There is nothing fun, sexy, cute, beautiful, or pleasant about the emotional and ridiculous mess that I am right now. Jake stands by me just the same, which is something that I really appreciate, and I love him so much. I know that a lot of times it would be easier to just cut and run when I get like this, especially when all I do is argue and get more idiotic. Let's face, Jake is a better man than a crazy Southern woman like me could ever ask for.

I promised myself that I would be positive about this semester, that I would just make the best of what I have, but its not as easy as it may seem. I was ok, really, until I met with the academic success person. Then suddenly all hell broke loose, and the tears started to fall and the need for caffiene and chocolate set in, and well here I am. I have to get over this, or at least get better (in the sense that I am not whimpering and sniffling like a child), before this weekend, since I want to have a good time and make the best of it. This is especially true considering that after this weekend I don't know when I'll see Jake or even have a decent break.

Well readers, I am back in my L-ville Shoebox (also known as my little apartment). I've hung up most of my clothes, opened a reed diffuser to make the Shoebox smell nice, attempted to order pizza and failed, and now I am relaxing on my couch watching the newer version of Pride & Prejudice (despite the fact that it is a really obvious chick flick). I won't lie, Pride & Prejudice is an excellent diversion with classes looming over my head, even if Mr. Collin's is a creeper. I will confess that I am amused by this movie. I need to make my grocery list and begin scheduling how I will manage my workload.

I haven't had much time to blog or even think until now, due to all the running about and travelling and general insanity that is the holidays. So I suppose I should throw out some of the general happenings, revalations, observations, and discoveries that I have had while I haven't been blogging.

Here's the deal, grades have come out and let's just say that I am not happy. My grades are not as high as I believed they should've been and because of that I will be unable to transfer to a school in TN. It simply will not be possible, and I am quite disappointed. But I will power through because if the good Lord means for me to be a lawyer then I will have to get through this. I suppose that I will just make the best of my time here. I can handle it; I will probably complain about it here, but I can handle it.

This was a given. Those things come regardless. Jake and I did holidays, which is to say that we spent a great deal of time on the road; we started in the Boro with my Aunt Bonnie's Christmas Eve, followed by the Strait family Christmas gathering that night, then both of us did Christmas morning with our parentals, followed by Christmas breakfast with Nanny, Christmas Lunch with the Halls, and ended with Christmas Supper at my Grandmother's. We barely had time to breathe, but there is something special about doing holidays. It gives a sort of permanence to our relationship, and its just sort of nice to have something we do together. There was a moment Christmas night that was really awesome. (Beware, Nic is gonna be a sap). Jake was watching the Titans game, which is not something that ever interests me, and I was sort of half laying on him and using him as a pillow. It was quiet and comfortable and perfect; I would give anything to do that more often, not going to lie. We also did a sort of New Years outing, which was nice. We went to see It's Complicated, which was an OK movie but not one I really want to see again. (Just say no to Alec Baldwin undressed). Then we did dinner at Chilis, always a treat, and then we went to his church to hang out for a while. It was an absolute blast. Also, while on the subject of Christmas, I got some pretty great stuff, books I wanted, clothes, and a really cool digital picture frame (a gift from Jake because he is thoughtful and awesome). I am, however, mildly jealous of the new toy he got; I used to say I had no use for a touch screen iPod, but now, after getting to mess with his for a bit, and looking it up, I think I may want one. They seem really nice.

With Jake's graduation rapidly approaching and the fact that he will soon be in law school somewhere, the future is beginning to loom slightly. We had this idea, and it was awesome. "Let's get into the same law school; we can be together and support each other and work together and it will be great." I was going to transfer to a TN school, and we were goimng to give it a go. Then my grades came in, and that idea flew out the window. There are two distinct possibilities for what our relationship will be like. One is that he will go to either his first or second choice for law school, meaning our relationship will enter a land I will name "The Long Distance Desert" which is to say that we will have minimal contact due to the serious distance between us and the conflicting schedules that will surely arise. The second possibilty is that he comes here, his third choice, and we go from there. This is the part where the selfish part of me, the part that wishes simply for us to be together and doesn't care about much of anything else, and the mature part of me that loves Jake very much and only wants what would be best for him, the part that knows that he needs to be where he is happy and where he feels he should be, duke it out in a battle royale.
(SPOILER ALERT)
The mature part of me wins, of course, because I only want Jake to be happy, whatever that means, and I know that what I want shouldn't matter when it comes to his choice in law schools. The mature part of me puts that selfish part of me in a headlock and then body slams it with the reminded that part of what being a decent partner is all about is being supportive. You see, I love him with all my heart, and I want him to go to the law school where he feels he should be and to do what he needs to do in order to be happy and sucessful. If that means that we enter the "Long Distance Desert" for a while, so be it. I will pout and whimper, but I will live through it and support him; after all if our relationship can't handle the distance then it wasn't meant to be. To answer the questions: Will it hurt to do the distance thing, yes it will. Will I probably cry like a girl and have to grit my teeth and remind myself constantly that the distance is temporary, yes, constantly. Will it suck to be so far apart all the time, more than you can imagine. But I'd rather Jake be happy and comfortable and where he should be than be all wrapped up in my own world. He means that much to me. Call me a sap, but that's how I feel.

I feel like resolutions sort of fall apart every time I try to make them. I always forget or lose track or something else silly. So instead I will make a list of goals for the year. That way I know that I can achievement. So here are my four main goals:

1. Be swimsuit ready by this summer; it's going to take a lot, I mean a lot, of will power, stamina, and determination, but I think that I can manage it. In general I want to get into better shape because I am a mess.
2. Learn to be more patient; this is an in general issue having to do with lots of things. I'm bad about getting impatient, giving up, getting frustrated, and in general being a bit of a beast when things don't move at the pace I'd like them to move.
3. Pick something I've always wanted to do, like learn a foreign language, learn to dance, learn to draw, or something of that nature, and actually do it. Along the same lines, I will finish my novel, or at least get a huge chunk of it written
4. Be a better girlfriend, partner, and friend; to tell the truth at times I can be a selfish pain, and I'm not good at dealing with myself. I'm a mess and a handful and more often than not I'm not the kind of girlfriend you'd want. I'm going to try to be more patient and supportive and less of a mess.

I am considering starting an "Ask Nic" type blog to go along with this one; something where people email in questions and I answer them. I know that I wouldn't get many emails, but it might be a fun thing to try out at least. I don't know.

So today the Jake and Nic Show went sort of dramatic today, and it was not fun. It's a funny thing, distance, sometimes it makes things easier and sometimes it makes things harder. Sometimes it makes you reluctant to talk about things because you don't want to spend what little time you have to talk or be together discussing unpleasant truths. Well, when that happens it all spills over into one big pile of "things we should've talked about ages ago but now we really have to talk about them". Then conversation is a long and unpleasant one that may or may not involve tears. I do not enjoy those kinds of things, but I'm sure no one does. It has been a rough day because of this. It's all fun and games until something goes awry.

Misunderstandings are the bane of my existence. Well, probably most people's existence, but at the moment I am talking about my own. Jacob somehow got the wrong impression about a lot of things, probably because Yours Truly is a mess and has difficulties. For one, he thought I wanted nothing to do with his family, but really I just haven't had much of a chance to be around them. Living in L-ville and having such a hectic and busy life, there have been very few opportunities for me to do things like that. I've promised to try to make things better because I love him and want to be a part of his life and his family is so very important to him. I curse my baggage, and I have some very unpleasant baggage for causing some of these issues to even arise. Some things stem from way back when we first started dating over a year ago, things I thought we were passed but apparently we weren't. But we are working on them now, and a lot of it is going to be me trying to shuffle and juggle to do it. I won't go into anymore detail about that part of the conversation because really, it's not something we need the world to know. I love him, and we have to get through this. I always dread moments like these, even though I know that they are normal really. No couple can be completely in-sync all the time, and every relationship will have rough moments along the way. The strength of your relationship is tested by these moments, and the real strength is being able to get through them. I guess it happened to us because we fell out of rhythm, and we didn't talk enough. I think maybe we have learned our lesson.

I think some people are meant to always fight for what they want, and I think that I'm one of those people. I foolishly thought that if we wanted it badly enough, if we fought hard enough, that we could have what we want without waiting so long. I foolishly hoped that it was our turn, that for once I wouldn't have to fight and we wouldn't have to struggle. I got my hopes up and then watched them crash; it seems to be a trend with me to be honest. The problem is that Jake and I met, and then our relationship sort of rocketed all the way to a brick wall. Neither of us expected it to happen, least of all me. I really just couldn't see that far forward. And part of it was that I like where we were going. We've been together a little over a year, and we are completely head over heels, and we've sort of reached this point where the next logical step, the one we really want to take, is to get hitched. But that can't happen right away or even in the next year by his calculations because things are just not in place yet. I had hoped that with a little planning, a lot of prayer, and some serious forethought and work we could manage to do what we want without having to wait the five years it will take to finish law school and pass the Bar. It sounds crazy that just because we are, or will be, both in law school, which only takes three years, that we will have to wait so long, but thats the logistics of it. I've done the math, looked at the options, and figure it out. Maybe its the crazy female in me, but I just hate the idea of a wait so long for something we want so much.

Maybe I'm not being entirely rational, even if I thought I was, but I've learned the hard way the over-thinking things just leads to more trouble. I guess that I was slightly blinded by the fact that I have finally found "the one" and I really love him. While I can barely think about such a long wait, I'm not giving up on us. In fact if anything I am more determined than ever to marry this man. I love him with all my heart, you see. I found something I thought I would never find again and I'm not about to let that go. Life rarely gives you second chances, and I'm not going to lose out this time. I love this man, despite all the problems we face. I'm determined.

Good news: Today's weather was actually nice enough that since I don't have class until 2:25PM and only have one textbook (Contracts) to carry along with my bag and purse I could walk to the law school. I love being able to walk to class.

It's the first week of November, the weather here in the North is still refusing to pick a temperature, and my life is filled to the brim with things to keep me busy. I've got the Open Memo (foul creature that it is) due next Monday, which means that I have to show up early enough to turn the thing in even though my first class of the day will not be until one in the afternoon. I guess I will spend that morning in the library working on the outlines for Torts and CivPro (Also known as the land of Mordor) since those are my classes for the day. Both outlines are in bad need of an update. Speaking of outlines, I need to have all my outlines updated before next weekend, especially since I'm going to be in the Boro to judge mock trial rounds for the MTSU tournament. Nerdy though it is, I'm excited about that. Finals are in about four weeks, and it scares the crap out of me. Law School finals are not like undergrad finals. Undergrad finals are just the last chunk of your grade when you are a college student. Law School finals are your only grades when you are a law student. So I want my outlines updated and ready for typing ASAP, especially that CivPro outline. CivPro is really the only class I am having trouble in, and I can't stand it. I get so frustrated because I can go into the classroom, having read all the material and think I have an understanding of what I should know, but then the professor speaks and I am lost. I am actually terrified of that exam. Torts, I understand; Property, I get the basics and will just have to review the different rules thoroughly. Contracts, I'm not having much difficulty in despite the strange way the class tends to go.

I think I need to come up with some better responses to the question "So how is law school?" Seriously, mostly what I say is that it’s different; it keeps me busy, and it’s interesting, all of which are fairly lame answers to the question really. I love law school minus CivPro and BLS, and I love that I am learning a lot. I wish I could share some of the hilarious jokes that crop up, but they are just not as funny to people who aren't in law school or aren't going to be in law school soon. I laugh when someone says “Torts makes me want to commit assault and battery" But I'm sure people outside here will just look at me funny when I say it. Law school does make you see the world differently. Daddy (I'm Southern, so yes, I call my father Daddy) was talking about a friend he knew who was considering a law suit. After hearing the facts I spouted off promissory estoppel and why it fit. It's good that I know that, since it's important for the final, but it's strange that I can do that now. I see the legal issues in all sorts of things. I do, however, wish that people wouldn't say I'm in graduate school. Law School is not Grad School; Grad School is for wimps.

I need a new camera. (Whoa, random subject change) I've had my current one for several years, and it has been a good one. But it is beginning to show it's age and the wear and tear of thousands of pictures is starting to get to it I think. My little Samsung has seen better days, though it did serve well all summer what with the 60+ pictures I took at the zoo. It's scratched from all the times little cousins have excitedly tapped it's screen when shown pictures of themselves; it's scuffed up from all the different places it's been scooted, stashed, tucked away, and hidden. The pictures are not as clear and pretty sometimes, which saddens me, and it is often a little weak. It's gotten harder on batteries lately, and so I have to turn it off and charge them more often. I tried to take pictures of my earrings to put in the shop, and very few of them turned out well, which was a disappointment. I wound up having to let Nanny take pictures with her camera. I think that if I don't get one as a gift before then, I will save up my jewelry money and buy myself a new one. For now I will just make do, since I want to take pictures at the tournament next weekend.

Thinking of jewelry, I made five new designs for earrings last weekend; I was really happy with three of them in particular. I left them with Mama to take to work to sell, and I forgot to take pictures of them for the shop. I'm slightly disappointed because they were really awesome designs, and I wanted to see if they would sell better online than what I have now. I guess I will just have to make a few more and photograph them if Mama sells the ones she has before I get home next weekend. I've got some great ideas for necklace/earring sets that I want to try, and I've found tons of new beads for jewelry. But first I need to sell most if not all of the pieces I've made so far. I'm thinking my sales will increase when it gets closer to Christmas. (Fingers are crossed)

In light of my upcoming appearance at the Mid-South Invitational at MTSU, I've decided to set myself a goal. I figure at least for the first round I judge I will wear a suit, and my old one looks pretty shabby. So I've decided that, since I will need one for interviews soon, I'm going to put back some money to buy a new one. But I don't want to buy a new one while I'm still sort of big, only to have to have it tailored or buy a new one because I've dropped a few sizes. That would be impractical. So I'm going to wait and get one in November, before the tournament.

New Goal: Drop 2 sizes by November 13th
New Plan: No more skipping workouts just cause I don't feel like hitting the gym; No more skipping Friday work outs unless I go home and no more skipping weekends (even if it means hitting the treadmill at the 'rents house); no more crappy eating habits due to classes and work

So like the title says I've set myself back, and that means that I am major disappointed in myself. I usual routine is to work out 3 or 4 times a week, depending on how busy I am; I've been working out Monday through Thursday, and I was making progress. Well, I didn't work out last weekend, and then yesterday I didn't feel good and was just not feeling into the idea of hitting the exercise bike. I've got to do something different, but my only other choice is the elliptical and at the moment that hurts my knees way too much. Well today I got on the bike and barely made my old time, much less my current time. I was hurting so bad that I had to quit. I was so frustrated that I was nearly in tears because I feel like I sabotaged myself and set myself back. It's hard enough for me to lose weight as it is; I don't need to make it any more difficult for myself. I'm kind of pissed at myself because today I treated myself to a Frosty at lunch, and I've been sort of crappy with my dieting, so I just made things worse. Also, Nic needs a good ab workout, other than just crunches because they don't seem to work very well. I'm trying a new idea from Jacob, but I'd like some others.

It has been a long week. I arrived earlier in the week to find in raining in L-ville, and it has been raining almost nonstop since I got here. That means that I have been walking to and from the parking lots in the rain with no umbrella because I discovered that my MTSU umbrella, which I had been carrying since my sophomore year in undergrad, was bent beyond repair. I refuse to pay $10-$20 on campus for an umbrella or to drive all over town looking for a cheap place to buy one. Today when I go to Wal*Mart after the structured study group I fully intend to buy an inexpensive one because there has been no word on when it is supposed to stop raining. In fact it is still pouring outside as I type this entry. As though my current location needed to be in danger of even more flooding issues. Also, it is not fun to have to wiggle your way into your car with your books and laptop bag while it is raining because the people parked around you don't seem to understand that you put your car between the lines on the pavement that mark your parking space. I try to be nice and not scratch their pretty little plastic car with the door of my big metal tank, so it takes twice as long to get in that it should. I'm not a small woman, and so I have to wiggle my hips and do a strange combination of dance and contortion in order to squirm my way into my blazer.

I usually don't complain about my hair or anything, but seriously this wet weather has turned me into a gigantic fuzzball. Also, it makes it take twenty or thirty minutes longer to get ready, and all that time is wasted when I step outside the apartment. My hair is all frizzy, wavy, and out of control, and it gets in my way. I've got the layers in this mess, and they are really a pain lately because I can't just pull it all back and leave just my bangs. Instead it all falls out and the ponytail just looks like I've never brushed my hair. And it's difficult to get anything done when I keep having to push my hair out of my face. I guess I will have to invest in some headbands or bandanas, which is a bit ridiculous because I have sort of short hair. Also, I am definitely having Mindy, the brilliant woman who cuts my hair, fix it so that I don't the extra layer on top; hopefully that will fix this mess. Low maintenance, but still attractive, hair is a must for Nic while she is in law school.

I've discovered that I live among some ridiculously ill-mannered reavers undergrads who run down the halls of the apartment building screaming at each other and play whatever they pretend is music extremely loud. I honestly thought there was a fight right outside my door the other night because there was a group of boys outside yelling obcenities at each other, but it turned out that they were apparently just joking around. Nic was not amused. Also, as it turns out, my bedroom window is right next to the balcony, and one night at around midnight when I was so drained I couldn't think and the last of my caffiene had finally worn off I wound up listening to some guy talking for thirty minutes about how he thought he loved some girl. Last night I retreated to my bedroom in attempt to avoid the pounding music from my neighbors. I arrived home Tuesday afternoon to the sounds of some strange hip hop music that was so loud that I could hear it all the way in the laundry room with three dryers and two washers going. I swear it's ridiculous. Why does the entire apartment have to hear what you are listening to?

Yesterday I checked my rent situation, which has been out of whack since I got to KY six weeks ago, to discover that it is huge mess and has gotten worse. So now when I get back from my shopping I have to call them and jump through all their hoops so that I can get that taken care of because I can't leave it unsettled. As though I had time to deal with that stupidity, which I will not get into other than to say that they are charging me rent for two apartments and I only live in one. On top of that I have got to get my rough draft done this weekend, and so I will be spending almost all my time hiding in the apartment writing.  My current goal for the weekend, besides making sure my class stuff is done, is to have a complete draft of the memo done and have my outlines all caught up. This should be enough to keep me completely busy.