Asti's Song

It’s been nearly twelve years. It’s unbelievable that it’s been that long. She was a beautiful little girl. She was about four years old. Her name was Asti.

It was September 24, 1997. I woke up to the sound of silence and immediately knew something was wrong. Every morning for more than four years, I had awakened to the sound of small scratching on the door, a little “woof”, but that morning there was nothing. I wondered at first if she was still asleep. I thought perhaps she was just trying to let me rest. You see, even if I had moved around in bed early in the morning, she would have heard me, and she would have done the usual morning “gotta go outside” routine. But, it was not the case.

Every evening when going to bed, I would put her in the bathroom, so she wouldn’t potty in the floor during the night. With a four-pound canine, including legs, head, and all the other parts, that doesn’t leave a lot of room for a large bladder. So, during the night, she usually had to go. I had a towel and blankey, so she was all set for the nightly routine. She wasn’t alone; there was another dog in there as well, so she wouldn’t be scared. Every morning she woke me up the usual routine.

On that cool, fall day, though, there was no familiar rumbling from the bathroom door.

I went in the bathroom, and there she was, looking so peacefully asleep on the floor. I walked in, thinking that she would wake up and give me the “woof”. She didn’t. I stood there, disbelieving. I walked over to her and picked up her limp little body off the floor. And I cried, and cried, and cried. I buried her in the backyard that afternoon after work. It was the first pet I’d lost as an adult, and it hurt like hell.

A few weeks later, I was in an antiques store and Pachabel’s Canon in D began playing over the speakers. It reminded me of my Asti Girl. I snuck around a corner and cried. Every time I heard it, I would think of her and smile, albeit with a tear in my eye. When I move a year later from the house, I went to the florist and bought a single, long-stemmed, red rose. I laid it on the spot in the backyard and told my Asti goodbye.

Roll forward nine years. The other dog had passed away, we’d lost my son’s cat, Gato, and I’d settled into life as a single adult, divorced. I had met a wonderful man at work, and we were getting married. When we started looking at wedding dates and venue availability, the date was narrowed down to either October 3 or September 24. October 3 was out because of another event, so we were left with the 24^th. I thought instantly, “No!,” that I couldn’t get married that day because it was somehow bad luck. We discussed it, and decided that it would be a way to almost honor my Asti.

The music choice from there was simple. Yes, it’s a much-played song at weddings anyway, but in this case, it was more than that. It was like my little Asti being there with me all through the ceremony, woofing along and being happy for us.

I still think of her every single time I hear Canon in D, but now, I also think of my new, happy, and wonderful life. I love you, Asti. Thank you for teaching me about love.

Christmas Memories & Change

Tonight I sit here, I remember many previous Christmases.  There was the time when I was in the third grade and my Mom bought me pom-poms and a baton, not knowing which one I'd like the best.  I had the pom-poms for years; I twirled the baton on a  regular basis for 6 - 4 as a majorette - and still twirl from time to time.  It's the one with a single set of diamond stamps on each end.  The other baton I bought years later when we twirled two in high school.

I remember the time when I got my rabbit fur coat at my Mamaw's house.   They lived on Lake Conway, on a corner lot.  They bought it in the 1960s, before it was popular.  What started out as a cabin soon became their home, and that Christmas, Santa came around in a boat on the cold lake, with a lighted tree in the boat.  It was the coolest thing an 8-year old had ever seen!  The rabbit fur coat was all the rage that year, and I loved mine dearly.

There was the Christmas when the tornadoes hit our neighbor's house on Christmas Eve, demolishing their homes.  The ice on the roads that year was about 12" deep because of all the fields being flooded and dammed up by the farmers.  I think it was 1987, because it was the same year I got my truck.

My son's first Christmas, 1990, was also the first time I'd ever missed my family's Christmas gathering in Conway.  It snowed that year, so much that the roads were impassible for a while.  Since we lived in Stuttgart, about 2 1/2 - 3 hours away, we decided it would be best not to try it with a one-month old.  I have photos of Christmas with the snow, and it was beautiful.

Then 2002, a tough Christmas.  My son's great-grandmother died on his birthday that year, and it was also the last one we had with his grandpa, Papa.  Not that we knew it then, but remembering it later, it was a hard year.  We so hoped that 2003 would be better, but it was worse, as he did pass away that year.

Then, lastly, 2004, my first-ever Christmas alone.  My ex-husband was gone and took my son to another state to visit friends for Christmas.  I didn't even bother with a tree or decorations that year.  I was too busy packing the ex's stuff so he could come pick it up on  New Year's Day.  I know it may sound sad now, but it wasn't.  My dog, Gracie, and I sat around, watching whatever movies we wanted, eating popcorn and listening to music.  It was one of my best Christmases ever, really. 

Then today, which was filled with family.  We had about 30 people over for lunch today.  It was fun to see everyone, and nearly every single person in my husband's family showed up today.  It was nice, and now that they are all gone, the house is silent once again.  The tree, lit in the corner, the candles, burning brightly, my husband and daughter asleep for a nap before she goes to her mom's house for the night.  Peace.

My hope is that everyone can live his or her life to the fullest.  Take pride in your everyday life.  Take care of your families.  Make love a priority.  Don't forget that everyone has someone who loves them.  Merry Christmas to all.  Have a safe and wonderfully happy New Year!

The Mascot Discussion

Okay.  Today we were watching college football, which made me wonder about mascots.  I mean, what is a Jayhawk anyway?  A hawk who crosses the street outside a crosswalk? And why does Florida State get to keep their Native American mascot but all the other teams in the same boat have had to change theirs?  Someone said it was that the Seminole Nation was persuaded to endorse the use of the mascot.  Perhaps this is the case, but I thought it was an NCAA requirement?  Demon Deacons?  Are these evil church-going men who've just had enough?

There is a school in the northern part of our state whose mascot is the Fighting Bluebirds.  No lie.  How many of you have seen a mean, fighting bluebird?  Aren't they always depicted as nice, wholesome, apple pie birds?  I can't recall ever seeing a mean bluebird.

Then there are the Terps.  Terps?  I mean is that like a turtle?  How about the Crimson Tide?  Was the conversation like, "Hey.  I know!  Let's name our team after that awful red Gulf Coast algae that keeps the tourists away!" 

But the one that takes the cake is the University of Arkansas at Monticello's Boll-Weevils.  The call for the team is "ee-ee, ee-ee."   This mascot is named after the now-eradicated-from-Arkansas cotton weevil.  I don't even want to imagine a costume for this one, or one for a Gamecock.  We're not even going to go there.

The list goes on and on.  Cornhuskers?  Boilermakers?  Sooners? Volunteers?  It's like they all had a contest where you say the first word that comes to mind and used those words as their mascots.

Then there are some that are just plain misplaced.  LSU Tigers?  How many tigers actually live in Louisiana?  Blue Devils?  Duke - please the only devils are the ones who move from North Carolina to Arkansas.  South Florida Bulls?  Yes, isn't that where they hold the running of the bulls every year?  Oh, no, that's Spain.

I could go on and on, but it's almost more fun to just start this and let you all look the rest of these up.  Enjoy!

33,562 Words

That's how many words are in my Torts notes for this year so far.  We'll have a few more, I'm sure, as we have one assignment remaining and one more class as well. 

Wow.  That's just crazy.  I don't know how many words are in all my outlines and notes all together.  I just know it's a whole lot.

It just doesn't seem like it's almost the end of the semester.  I think all of us are feeling a bit of strain in some way or the other.  I am not freaking out yet, but I'm sure the week after Thanksgiving I will begin to feel the strain, if not prior to that time.

I had to write a nasty letter today.  yuck.  I also had to call the dog catcher about a dog that won't shut up.  The dog catcher said I might have to go to court if they don't shut their dog up, and I said bring it on - I'm a law student and just happened to be studying about nuisance law this week.

Apparently I'm Famous

Okay.  Apparently I'm famous.  Yesterday we opened our new clinic out in the western part of the city.  The news cameras were everywhere, and I felt like I avoided them the whole time.  Apparently, though, I am now famous and everyone has seen and recognized me on television.

I heard it first from a friend at work.  He said, "Saw you on TV.  You're a movie star."  This was impressive.  Then, I got to school this afternoon and there were throngs of people, well just one person, who said they saw me last night and recognized my hair.  Now, you must understand if you don't know me that my hair is fairly unique in that it's curly and fairly long.  It's also a bit poofy which is what gives it its own personality.

Now, this is not my first time on television.  The first time was when I was like 5 and was on the Bozo show.  I lived in Roe (which is like a tiny community much less a town), and even though I had a terrible cold and fever, my mother sent me to Bozo anyway as I really, really wanted to be on the show.  I got to sit on a balloon and pop it.  It was cool.  I still, somewhere, have my nametag that they gave me on the show. 

Several thousand (okay about 10) appearances later, I am now apparently famous.  It feels good.  I expect the Rolls limo to show up at any point to pick me up from school and put my books in the trunk.

Oh There is One In Every Class

By class, in this sense, I mean the whole class, not just this particular class in which we currently sit, Torts, but the whole class.  The person who thinks that they need not write down anything and just sit and stare.  Not sure how they do it, but it's cool I suppose, unless of course, they then complain that they are unhappy with the teaching of the professors at the school.

We have one of those in our class. 

Every night, this person sits there and stares.  No computer, no real notebooks.  Seems smart but is more of a smarny pants than anything else. 

Yes, this person may be paying for his/her education, but so are the rest of us.  Some of us out of our own pockets, no grants, no scholarships, and no loans.  Straight out of our bank accounts.  Amazing, but this person is not alone in this endeavor.

The annoying point of all of this is just the attitude.  It's like everyone else is below this person.  It's like we're all just here to be the "lower classmen" and not be quite as smart as this person. 

We don't mind this, other than the fact that we don't think this person really could be the smartest in the class.  We may be surprised at semester-end, but for now, this is the general consensus.

A Beautiful Day, Spent Studying

Today was the best day we've had in a long time, weather-wise. It's been raining here so much that we really thought the sun had left the solar system, leaving us like Venus or something. It felt like we were living in Seattle (I think we actually had more rain than Seattle). Today it was bright, sunny, and around 75 degrees so it was quite a nice day. Early this morning, I decided I just couldn't waste it indoors, so I ventured outside, Contracts book in hand, to sit on the patio and read a bit.

I made it through the whole Contracts assignment without getting too bored, even though the UCC isn't the most exciting topic in the universe. The further I get into contracts, the more I want to do something cool and nasty exciting like products liability (plaintiff, of course) or malpractice. Who knows what I'll do when I get out? I surely don't.

Christmas is coming up soon. I do not enjoying shopping for Christmas, especially when I don't know what to buy people. My immediate family is fine. It's just the outlying folks that are more difficult. It's amazing that Christmas has taken on such a "gift" connotation instead of being more about just being together and seeing how everyone is doing every year. I wish it would go back to that - either that or one of these days I'm going to pull a Kranks Christmas and just ditch all the gift crap and take a cruise. For the money I spend on Christmas, I could take a fairly nice family vacation and actually have an adventure instead of another new coffee pot or sweater. I'm sure I'm the only one who feels this way - bah humbug me. It has just gotten way too commercialized for me - and people actually going into debt to buy their kids the $2,000 Range Rover Doll of the Year or whatever is just insane.

I signed up for BarBri, although I don't even know at this point if I'll make it through one semester, much less the entire 4 years of law school. It's disturbing that we don't get our first semester grades until after we've been in second semester for a while. I mean, how do you know if you've flunked out before you've paid for the second term? I guess you just go on faith and don't worry about it. Surely they have plans for people who don't make it...but I haven't heard of any.

Well, that's all for now. I have thoughts in head, but some of them are not for publishing!