Dear Summer,

Where did you go? Did I really sleep through the whole break? 'Cuz law school training starts this Monday...and I'm not ready to start getting up in the MORNING again. 

see? I suck with this whole journaling thing....

I may have commitment issues. I just never find the time to write, even though I once wanted to be an author. I think it's probably because my life is boring and I wouldn't want to read my rambles ;) LOL. Anyway, several things have happened in the last five months or so: I accepted a scholarship to William H. Bowen School of Law, quit my job (!!!!), and moved to a little suburb outside of Little Rock,AR. YAY! Now I have the summer off and sleep late everyday. Living the dream,baby. 'Cept now I have just a few friends and no real daily interactions with people. boo. Never thought I was a people person until I found myself painting my dog's nails and taking her to a dog park to find people to talk to! I have obsessively cleaned my house, done laundry, and annoyed my pets. On a daily basis. It's sad when dogs put themselves to bed to avoid being with you! I'm doing some reading,too, which is nice. I know I won't be reading for leisure once school starts up! BTW, there is a freaking' harry potter book on my suggested reading list....for law school....wtf? Beginning to wonder about that scholarship!

Black Swan...

Last weekend I saw "Black Swan" with a friend and was blown away with craziness of it all  and how well it captured the descent into madness that the main character experienced during her quest for perfection. My friend enjoyed the movie as well, but later said that she couldn't relate to Nina's struggles and feelings because she had never experienced that overpowering need to be perfect. My feelings were quite the opposite; during several points in this film I became teary eyed because I had been there, struggled with that. There's a scene where Nina practices until she slips and her foot bleeds, several scenes where she scratches/picks at her skin, and her obsession with getting her part "perfect" and being perfect...man, I saw myself way too many times. Thankfully, I don't have the paranoia or hallucinations that Nina did! I don't think she realized that she was crazy until the end, and the last few scenes were pivotal to the whole movie...her wiping her tears and putting on her makeup to dance one final time (perfectly enough for a complete metamorphosis into her character) even after she realized what she had done....just wow. It could have been a better movie, but the last ten minutes or so were pure perfection. If Natalie Portman gets an Oscar for this role it will be a well deserved award, let me tell you!

Yes parents, you will mess your kids up.

First, let me preface this with a disclaimer: I love my parents, and they did an amazing job surviving my childhood and raising me to be an adult.

However, they still messed me up for life and played a big part in my neurotic-ism. I think that as parents, you have to accept the fact that you will give your child issues. The key is to make sure that those issues are relatively minor and not intentional. I am pretty sure that my parents only wanted the best for me and did not intend to turn me into a cutter by age twelve. I'm pretty sure that their insistence on perfection was meant to make me strive to be the best I could be, not to swallow over a hundred tylenol pills just to see what would happen. I am also almost certain that my parents did not mean for my ballet classes (that they insisted I continue) to turn into a lifelong hatred of food,fat, and self loathing with every meal. They did their best to make sure I always did my best and only wanted to motivate me to succeed. I led them to it with my own determination to Be Somebody Someday. I mean, how many three year olds know what they want to be when they grow up (and stick to it!) ? How many ten year olds have five and ten year plans?  I doubt many elementary students put themselves through several grueling hours of practice until they get that grand jeté prima ballerina perfect. From the start, I was impatient (born almost a month early!) demanding, and hard on myself. My parents love me,and want to help me succeed in anyway possible,even if that means riding my ass about things; to this day they still check up on me and make sure I am on track. My younger brother? Not so much. He is laid back, a solid "c" student, and deals with little parental pressure. My parents accept and love him for who he is, not who he could be. I think that's awesome, and sometimes I wish that it was the same way for me. My father has actually admitted that they realized early on that he wouldn't be their wonder-kid and that's why they push me so hard. They love him and want him to succeed but know that he isn't the Type A personality who usually is drawn to high profile careers and stressful lifestyles. My brother goes out with friends, has girls over, and gets a lot more free rein than I ever got and no one frowns at "b"'s on his report card. Yes, I am jealous, how did you know? The point is,however, that my parents mean well. Had they not been up my butt in high school, I may have ended up pregnant by 17 (like my mom) instead of earning a full tuition scholarship to the university of my choice. I may not be where I am today ( offered a dozen scholarships to various law schools, married, homeowner, gainfully employed) had I been allowed to slip up more often. I am thankful to them (and my ballet instructor,more on her later) for teaching me that "Good enough" is never good enough. I can do better; I can be better. No one is perfect, this is true, but one can strive to be as perfect as possible,right?

Kick in the teeth...

this week has been extremely emotional and much like being back in high school. I've been betrayed by someone I trusted, and I've also betrayed/ hurt someone who claims to care for me more that I realized. Honestly, I don't know which hurts more; being the betrayer or the betrayee! This week has inspired some important life decisions, too; I think there's finally the true motivation to make some changes in my life and seek new things. I've learned that you can not put blind faith in people simply because they accept your friend request, that people don't safeguard their spaces, and most importantly, that it's better to deal with a problem/person than just suck it up and vent. I've also learned that even if I tell myself I am not listening to someone's gossip, if I hear it repeatedly then it becomes subconscious subterfuge that affects my way of thinking. Guess what,guys? I've realized I am not strong enough in my convictions to hear stuff over and over and not buy into it; as much as that realization disappoints me, I am glad to learn it and the aforementioned lessons now before I get too old to chalk it up to young stupidity.

Q: Do your dogs and cats get along?

Dude, my cats love beagles; they are troublesome and dumb and therefore the perfect fall guy in their eyes! Someone drinks the milk out of my cereal? Cats give the beagles the side eye and try to place blame on them! Someone tracked cat litter into my bed? beagles did it! The cats play with them, but they also make sure that the dogs know that cats are the supreme beings in our house.I saw the most hilarious thing yesterday; my 20 pound tomcat herded one of the beagles into the house! Lia had snapped her (60lb weight limit!) leash in pursuit of a BIRD(!!!!!!!) and Boots took off after her,cut her off, and chased her back to the house. Man, I was rolling. Boots is also fond of slapping the dogs' butts (claws not out) as they walk by, which also cracks me up, and Sassy likes to hide on the bookshelf or other high object and dive bomb the dogs. Her fave Christmas past time was hiding in the gift bags under the tree and then popping out and attacking a passing beagle.honestly, I feel more for the beagles than for the cats!

Labor night...

First off, never again will I sit with a friend while she has a baby. Jeeeee-sus! What a horrible thing to do to a person. It was twelve hours of my poor friend acting like someone had possessed her; at first, she was just in stage one and only a bit uncomfortable and whiny. I drove down to Hoptown as fast as I could, shoved her in my car, (after threatening her life if she leaked baby juice on my car seat) and raced to the hospital. We were sent up to the third floor (no wheelchair for her, either. They just made her walk!) and found an empty construction zone. We kept walking, though, until we saw a line of plastic on the floor and sawdust foot prints. Around the corner we saw a nurses station and a lone nurse sitting at the desk watching Hulu on the pc. (no word what show she was watching) We got signed in, went to a beat up room in this most Ghetto hospital, and anticipated big events and fireworks. Then we sat and waited for about eleven hours. It was very anticlimactic; I had no idea baby poppin' took so long. They gave her meds to speed up and instead, that stubborn kid went to sleep. The nurse came in and gave Rica something to help her sleep and a blanket for me and told us we should sleep, too. I wanted to go home and to my bed, but my friend was in panic mode and all alone so I got to stretch out in the "recliner" made of sweaty pleather/vinyl/linoleum that didn't even recline! I decided to go out to my car and get her suitcases (seriously, the woman had a big ol' suitcase and carryon...this ain't the hilton, and you aren't on vacation! ) and went out the front way only to discover on my way back (lugging stuff) that the doors to the main entrance lock after nine. So I had to throw it all back in the car, drive to the ER entrance, get buzzed in, go to the security counter, give them my ID (they kept it til I left this morning!) and my name. They then called the third floor to see if I was legit, and asked me if I was a police officer. WTF? I said "no" and then remembered who I had left alone upstairs. "No, but uhm,,, what'd she do? Did you call the police?????" The man told me that he hadn't and that it was a standard question (note to self: never give birth at JSMC or go there for doctorin' ever) and a security guard buzzed me through, escorted me to an elevator and told me that it only went to the second floor. There I would have to hike across the floor, get on another elevator, and ride that to the third floor where I'd be IDed and buzzed in. In short, it took me almost thirty minutes to go to the car and back. It was insane; Sherica was upset b/c she thought I had left her or that something had happened to me in the parking lot.
           Anyway, we get settled in again and she conks out; meanwhile I'm in Chair of Punishment (typically reserved for those bastards that knock the laboring moms up in the first place) watching The Game Plan and then The Pacifer and looking for something to gouge my eyes out with. At quarter til 4 I decide to pull out all the blankets and pillows and make a pallet on the floor. At 0545 I get kicked in the head as the doctor makes his first appearance. "mrfbe, motherfuhhker.." I exclaim, as I rub my temple and get up.  I get a smirk and then watch as her leans in to wake my friend. "I don't think that's a good idea" I say, but it's too late, and Rica is swinging at him while reaching for her knife under her pillow (chick lives in a bad neighborhood) Luckily, being a dr. at the Ghetto Hospital, he knew to step back. "Let's finish breaking your water and have this baby!" he says, with a manical grin. My friend puts her feet up in the air and he throws a sheet over them as he stabs her with a knitting needle. Like, when I saw this thing I thought he was going to knit the baby some booties, not ram it up her kiboosh. But that's what he did, and she screamed in pain and looked over at me. A murderous glint in her eyes, and the dreaded words "You did this to me!!!" My mouth dropped. "I don't have a penis!" I cry out. "No, but it was your idea to come in to the hospital tonight!" "but, I..." and them my friend's head spun around backwards and she roared at me. "Yes'm" I said meekly, and watched her spew pea soup at the doctor. Within an hour she was talking to Jesus and regretting not having an epidural. A few moments later she yelled for the doctor to come catch Caleb, and two pushes later this 6lb 10 oz ball of hair came shooting out at 0853. All in all, the doctor was in the room for about eight minutes, and when he did come in to deliver he brought in several students to watch her birth. That, to Sherica and me, is disrespectful. Why wouldn't you at least ask first if its okay to have complete strangers look at your crotch and watch something so intimate as a baby's birth? Let me tell you, I've seen slasher flicks, gory surgeries, and poo explosions, but this was the most disgusting, horrifying thing I've ever witnessed. However, he's a cutie and pix are coming. I had to drive home and take the dogs to the vet at 1030, so I bid my farewells to the little guy and exhausted mama, and said I'd be back tomorrow. With a camera!!!