I HATE HATE HATE PACKING

I'm finally moving from my apartment (back into my parents' house until I find a job....fail) and am feverishly packing. I packed for a while during October and the last time I was in town, but left stuff because I didn't know when I would *officially* be moving out. I gave my notice a week or so ago. Then I started packing kinda for real.

Yesterday, my wonderful boyfran and I loaded up my house furniture that I wanted to keep, leaving my bedroom furniture alone (because that shit is new and if we fucked it up, I was going to cut someone). The things I didn't want, we put on the curb. The definition of hysterical? Watching a couple of frat guys claim your old pink particleboard desk. After our first trip, one of my dear friends came over to assist with the bedroom furniture. By seven o'clock p.m. we had moved all my furniture to my storage unit.

This is after actually cleaning up the living room. 

The rest of the house, however, is a joke. There are dustballs everywhere and I woke up this morning barely able to breathe. My dogs also made this trip with me after being MIA for several months (bf was starting to get pissed that he hadn't seen them). Crackers is sullen, having been pulled from outside where she can eat whenever the hell she feels like it and run around doing things that are generally looked down upon in my household. The second dog, Rosy, (who used to be an outside dog) came inside and told me she's never going back outside EVER. Except to pee.

So now I'm alone again, packing up the rest of my shit and wondering if I would actually miss anything if I just were to throw it all away.

I don't think I would.

I assure you this is a lot more shameful in person. 

No...really.

The Story of Crackers

My dog is my best friend. She snores to remind me I'm not in the house alone. She growls when someone she doesn't trust comes near me. And she inexplicably hates sorority girls, particularly in large groups. We're almost the same person.

My boyfriend found Crackers on the side of the road one night while cruising at high speeds during a "break" from work (aka: he excused himself from work and decided to go for a joy ride). She ran out in front of his car not once, but TWICE. And then he put her in his sports car (his baby, honestly), where she promptly pissed in the seat....because she, like me, probably had no idea what to do in a car with leather seats. (And of course the logical thing is pissing in it, am I right?!?)

I'll still remember when he woke me up at three in the morning, standing in the doorway of my room, with a dog in his arms. He looked helpless. The dog looked pitiful. And I thought I was hallucinating. I'm pretty sure I said something like "You've GOT to be kidding me." And the rest of the night, we slept on the couch with the dog beside us, stirring at every noise because I was afraid she was going to give my carpet the sports car "treatment."

We found her a home with one of Leonidas' friends, and I should have known better, because he (and I quote) "expected him {his DOG} to train the new addition" to their family. I got Crackers back after three weeks, because they couldn't handle her.

In that time, they did nothing to help the few things already wrong with her, and added a few new problems to the mix. She had a rub mark two inches wide on her neck from when we found her--left untreated, of course. She had a fly lay eggs in her nose, which got infected while in their care. She picked up worms in their backyard (ew, ew, EWWWWWW). They had done nothing about her "heat spots" (aka: bald patches), and had not taken her to a vet for her vaccinations or to be spayed. Then they gave her back to us, because she pooped in their floor. Keep in mind, she was a six month old puppy who hadn't received any training from them because they were stupid enough to think their fucking DOG would do it. They left her outside most the time. At night, they locked her in a cage in the garage (while their other dog slept in their bed).

So poor Crackers returned to me. And for the first few months, it was difficult. House and kennel training a dog are never easy. She sheds more than a dog EVER should. As I said before, she snores....loudly at times. She wakes me up at seven o'clock every morning whining because she's hungry and has to be fed immediately. Last night, she woke me up at two because she was hungry then and I hallucinated it to be seven o'clock. She's about five pounds overweight, even though we go on two mile runs all the time. Once, she jumped out of the car window....while it was moving.

But she also curls into a little ball at the back of my knees while I sleep. And she cuddles with me when I'm sick. And keeps my feet warm in the winter. She listens when I'm bitching, and doesn't judge me. She eats bugs. She keeps my kitchen floor clean.

And she lets me hold her like a baby when I feel like crap. All fifty pounds of her.

All things considered, she's pretty awesome.

And I'm pretty lucky.

Sometimes, I just like to gloat....

I've got a few other blog entries in the works (mostly bemoaning how much lawyers that make me read shit on subjects they've mangled beyond human recognition SUCK), but I figured y'all could do with an update (I would have done it last night, but I went to bed at 10:00 like a geriatric lady). My summer goes something like this:

May: BUSY BUSY BUSY--no time to think; no time to relax; no time to play.
June: BUSIER BUSIER BUSIER--got to finish work; have a big event I have to go to; no time for vacay.
July: DEAD DEAD DEAD--this is the month I really need to find a job for the rest of the summer, lest I sit around on my ass eating hohos and watching reruns of Glee (which at this very moment, sounds like heaven) for the rest of the summer. I've got a wedding in New Orleans to attend (whoop whoop), a vacation to possibly plan, and a crazy family to attend to (and by attend to, I mean leach on for a little while and benefit from their craziness in such a way that finishing law school doesn't seem quite so bad).

August, I'm planning for school to start, getting some volunteering in, and by God, I've GOT to network so I may potentially have a job after my 3L year. No more fucking around--I needs to make some monies. I don't need lots of monies....just some. Pleaze? (I will start talking in lol catz if need be to get a damnable job.)

Other than this, I'm assessing different blog subjects to address in my limited experience with the law. Mostly it consists of bitching (which seems to be the norm), worries about the economy (check out the bitter lawyer's blog to see how common this one is), and sheer idiocy because I love the law and my current job (this is not common, and even though I hate some of the idiot briefs I read and have lawyer's necks I want to wring, the people here are awesome, the workload is manageable, and I'M LEARNING HOW TO BE A LAWYER, Y'ALL!).

I guess, in a nutshell, I can say I'm enjoying life. I like getting up at the buttcrack of dawn, playing with my dogs (who I shall now call Crackers), packing my lunch and gym bag, and being an ADULT! It's neato, without the pressure of actually making money (thanks Danny and Maxine!).

Yep. Life's pretty awesome right now.