Chipped Polish & Wornout Jeans

One of the downsides of living away from home is that sometimes you get phone calls that aren't exactly pleasant and you are stuck alone in your apartment crying your eyes out. You see, on Monday night Mama called because Little Bit was going in for surgery because of a bad infection of her reproductive system. Well in the middle of our conversation the vet's office called and told her that when they opened her up it was too late, and that she was gone.

Let me tell you a little bit about our Little Bit. She was a rescue rottie that someone had not treated well. She'd been starved and beaten, and then the people had dumped her out at my Nanny's farm. We brought her to our house with the intention of finding her a good home, and we did, ours. We wound up adopting our foster dog, and she adopted me. I became her person, and eventually she slept in my room under my bed. This dog, named Little Bit because she was just a little bit of dog when we brought her home, had probably known little kindness in her life before we adopted her, and she didn't have the best experience with humans. She never quite learned that she didn't have to eat so fast and that she would always be fed, but she was getting better. When she came into our lives she chewed everything from broomhandles to belts, and I think it was because she had been hurt with them so many times. It took her a little while to get used to being touched, and while she grumbled and barked a little she allowed us to pet her. Adjusting was difficult because she wasn't raised properly from a puppy, but for a dog who had been through so much before us, Little Bit was good natured and sweet.

She had grown so used to me being home all the time that when I moved to L-ville for law school, she was having a difficult time adjusting. She would pretty much explode out of the house when I arrived home for the weekend, and sometimes if I came home at night instead of the afternoon she would have to be held back to keep her from jumping off the deck when she saw me. She was very attached to me, and I was attached to her. She was my baby girl, and I will miss her very much.

I wasn't going to blog about this, but some of it might be interesting. Last weekend I was Judge Bulldog, instead of Captain Bulldog, for the first time. I was a mock trial captain last year, and it was my fourth and final year as a participant. This year I was invited back to judge the Midsouth Mock Trial Invitational. I plan to do this every year so long as I can and I am invited. I really enjoyed getting to see it all from another perspective, and it was pretty awesome to be able to sit and talk to coaches, judges, attorneys, and other former mockers. I also enjoyed getting to see the mockers who are still participating; being in KY while they are in Boro and only having a quick conversation on Facebook is not the same as getting to talk and hang out.

It was strange waiting for the rounds to let out, being out of a suit on a tournament weekend, and watching the teams trickle out. Sitting on the bench instead of at counsel table was a totally new perspective. I judged three rounds and presided once. Judges meetings last forever for a reason, and now I know why we used to spend all that time in the room waiting for the judges to arrive. Arriving in the round was strange, since everyone stood up for us instead of the other way around. And scoring was not easy. I'm very picky and harsh, so scoring was a challenge for me. I didn't want to be "that judge"; you know, the one everyone hates. I did give a couple of low scores though, cause I just had to do it. If they weren't good, they just weren't good. I saw some interesting things, and I almost wish I had taken pictures. I saw a witness with what I would like to call super high "hooker shoes". I kid you not, these were at least 7 inches tall stilettos with platforms. She was supposed to be an actress. It wasn't appropriate for court. I also saw two individuals, who I thought might be coaches. One of them was wearing the strangest outfit I had seem in ages. When I had seen her before, I thought that she might be playing a crazy witness, but then she appeared in the judges meeting. She was not a young woman and yet she was wearing this ridiculous black essemble complete with dress that was way too short, shimmering sleeves, and fantastic knee high boots with buckles and straps.  When in Midlands.... The land of mock trial is always a trip.

After the tournament Dr. Vile and his wife hosted the annual gathering, and it was awesome. I got to see my old captain and my newbies from last year. It made me feel so old to see my newbies as captains and even the President of the organization. We swapped stories of the old days, talked about some of the crazy things we used to do in rounds, the way we used to fix mistakes. I met some of the newbies from this year, and there are some good ones. Of course, Jacob and I didn't do much more than hang out between rounds and at Dr. Vile's, and we snagged some breakfast on the run the morning of the second day. We are going to have to make up for that. We had planned to go to the movies or bowling or something after Dr. Vile's but that didn't pan out, at all.

That was weekend adventure on the other side.

It's raining and cold and just plain unpleasant outside. By raining I mean it is absolutely pouring outside. It is not a good thing when I have to walk from the parking lot to the law school tomorrow. I am on the couch in my apartment, with SVU on television, my laptop in my lap, a glass of sweet tea, and my textbooks. I'm looking pretty rough in my hoodie and yoga pants with my hair pulled back and my glasses. But that's ok because Nic is comfortable while she works. With approximately two weeks left before finals I am now working to finish up my outlines. I will spend my Thanksgiving break studying and eating with my family. After December 10th I will be done with classes for the semester, and I will probably spend my winter break in the Boro since it's not really a long break. Hopefully there will be time to go to Ice and the movies and stuff with Jake like we did last year. I've also promised to try to make it to church with him when I can. I'm definitely looking forward to the break from the exhaustion that is law school. Don't get me wrong, I love law school, but it is tiring. Between outlining and reading in preparation for classes, it's sometimes hard for me to get a moment to just rest, especially when I need it most. I wasn't kidding when I talked about scraping bottom on my energy stores while working on the memo. The coming weeks of winter break are going to be a welcome relief.

The blog has been lacking in real content because nothing has been happening in my world that is really worth blogging about. That is the price of being a full time student, living far away from everyone, and having no time to do much. The most excitement I've had recently has been a quick breakfast with Jacob and the mock trial tournament I judged last weekend. Don't get me wrong, breakfast dates with the love of my life are great, and we are planning to have more of them. And I really love mock trial and judging was fun, so was seeing all my friends in the Boro, including my old captain. There are pictures but I look all gross and so I will not be stealing them from Rachel. I think that the next post may be a post about what its like to judge mock trial instead of participating.

I know that I will be too busy to blog tomorrow since I'm having a girl's day out with Mama during the day and then I'm going to be at MTSU judging mock trial tomorrow night. However, I really wanted to do this post because it is really important to me and I'm trying to make this blog worth what visits it gets. Tomorrow is To Write Love on Her Arms day, and if you don't know what that is click this link right here: TWLOHA. It's a movement about self love and the prevention of self injury and suicide; it's about fighting addiction and depression and  And it's personal for me for a reason I will get to in a moment. So tomorrow on the inside of my left wrist in small black letters you will find the word love; I'd do it a little bigger but there is a need for me to look at least semi-professional and presentable at the tournament.

I said that for me TWLOHA is personal. That's because when I was a sophomore in college, which seems so long ago, I lost a good friend to suicide; it's something that I will never really forget. That phone call from a friend who was like a brother, hearing his voice shake as he tried to tell me the news, the tears I could hear over the phone, they are as clear to me as that night I got the midnight message. I can still feel the shock, the pain, the confusion, and the loss like it happened yesterday. The scream in my head was that this was some sick joke, that it could never happen to one of us. We were invincible, all powerful, untouchable, blessed. Our diverse group had seen enough damage, emotional baggage, and hurt. But in the end that stuff just seemed so petty and minor. Who gave a damn about break ups, hang ups, and stupid fights? He was dead, and we couldn't bring him back. We'd broken the one thing we'd promised as people began graduating and moving. To always be there; to never let anything happen to us. I can still remember the funeral, the tears running down my cheeks, the sudden realization of my own mortality, the way the wind cut through my sweater as I stood beside my friends watching the casket lower into the ground, and the way we all tried not to fall to pieces. It was not the first time that I knew someone who had committed suicide, but it was the first time it was so close to me. I remember thinking: "God, why did You let this happen? Why take him from us? Why didn't You stop him? Why didn't You give us some kind of sign that he needed us?" And I remember blaming myself for not noticing, for letting our little group of friends fall apart just because we were no longer having lunch all together and meeting up as often, for being too wrapped up in the drama and insanity of my own life. I remember wondering most of all: Why he felt there was no other answer, why he thought that it was the only way, why he hadn't come to me or to any one of our group? Did he think we didn't care, that we wouldn't drop everything to save him, that we wouldn't listen, that we could not do anything? He was supposed to be the sane one, and he had been our rock when we needed him. He'd talked us through so many hard times. He'd kept us together. I remember feeling as though we'd failed him, though I knew that we hadn't really. We'd loved him, and we hadn't known he was in trouble. I still wonder what life would be like had we known something and been able to save him. Would our little group have stayed together instead of scattering to the winds? I don't know, but I do know that I will always miss him and always wish that something had saved him. I remember him because he was my friend, because he was my brother, and because I loved him like a brother.

So I write love on my arm for Nathan, who saw no other option, for the friends we've all lost, and the one's we will try to save. I write love on my arm and whisper a prayer for those who need help. I ask God to send an angel to those people who are lost and searching for an answer. I write love on my arm because my life matters and so does everyone else's. I write love on my arm because we are all in this together and because you never know when you will turn the corner and find someone in need. I write love on my arm in memory of those who have gone and those who are saved. I write love on my arm for everyone out there.

I am scraping the bottom of my energy reserves at the moment, which is probably why I am wearing a hoodie that is three times or more too big and my hair is all curly and held back in a jaw clip and I barely have enough make up on to cover up my face. Needless to say, I'm tired, and the reason for my drained body is the same as the reason there hasn't been a post since Tuesday. That gorram memo. I finished all 3000 words of it, finally, this morning at about 10 AM or so. I have been dragging about for the last week, struggling to keep caught up and finish the memo, and having a minor panic attack due to the fact that I have to send my laptop, the nice new one I bought in September, out for repairs because according to the tech folks, it's having a hardware issue that must be repaired by the HP people. Too bad for Nic there are no HP Authorized Service Providers anywhere near her; so it has to be shipped to HP for a repair that could take two weeks to get it back instead of going into a repair place and having it repaired in a day or two. This is not a good time to be having technology issues. I take finals is three weeks, counting this one, and I plan to take them on my laptop because I type faster than I can write and it's hard for me to write for long periods of time because my right wrist is so messed up. I woke up this morning to find my living room filled with case law. I'm not kidding, there are stapled copies of the various cases I was writing my memo with, which is the signal that the apartment must be cleaned before I leave for the weekend. I don't have enough energy today to post a decent entry, so I promise that tomorrow I will write again.