A Sea of Blue: My First UK Game

Yes, that is indeed a picture of inside Rupp Arena on game day. And yes, it is from what I call the 'rafters.' But that is the only cost of free. I was desperate for some UK tickets, and I finally scored some free tickets from the bank. It's been a long and great season thus far of watching the games from my living room couch, but I wanted to experience first hand from where all the action happens.

The day started out pretty normal, I had to work, of course. But as soon I stepped out of the door of the bank and free for the weekend, my wheels were rolling toward Lexington. I stopped to pick up Auntie Char in London, my road trip buddy. We take off from time to time and disappear for a few hours, or a day or so. We laugh and reminisce and rock out to our favorite hits from the 70s.  Yes, I said 70s. That may be hard for some of you to believe, but if you know me at all, you know I don't discriminate against much music, and the 70s produced some of my favorite songs.

We were almost to Rupp Arena, and early I might add, as it was somewhere around 2:30 and the game started at 4:00, when I realized that neither of us had cash, which we had discovered earlier, and that we would need some to pay for parking. I am a huge fan of parking in the Hyatt garage and using the walkway to avoid people and weather. So, we traveled past Rupp, on down Broadway in search of a bank, or at the very least, an ATM. After driving a few miles, one surfaced. I pull through the wrong side, after noticing that the cop car parked in the parking lot was in fact empty, and let Auntie get us some cash. Back on the road again. And in the nick of time, too. Just after I went through the wrong way a car went in behind us haulin' ass. We just missed a head on collision. How 'bout that?

We get back to Rupp, park in my favorite lot, and make our way inside. Of course, I have to stop and look at the souvenirs. I couldn't help but compare it to a concert in a way. Millions of people, standing, drinking, mingling, and wasting money. The only difference, they were mostly all wearing blue, or a blue and white combination. It was a sea of blue, and one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Hell, even I am drawn into the atmospheric phenom and purchase yet another UK shirt and a pom pom. We head toward our seats and are just lucky enough to walk by the ice cream shop. If the line hadn't been so long, I probably would have ventured to my seat with one, but I've been doing better with my eating habits, so I knew it was a sign I  wasn't supposed to have one today.

Auntie and I finally find our seats after walking up two flights of stairs. But hey, they were FREE. Did I mention they were free? Oh, so I did. Anyway, we sit down, and I am in awe. And heat, sort of. My sweat shirt is burning me alive. If I don't get this thing off I am going to spontaneously com-bust I think. I take it off and get settled, camera ready, phone ready, and I look around to see all the blue. I've never seen so much blue in one place in my life. My favorite color, all around me like a big blue blanket. It. Was. Magical. Down go the lights. I watch, mesmerized by the unfolding of the events. Lights are flashing, fans are cheering, announcers start calling off names of the players -- Davis, Lamb, Jones, Kidd-Gilchrist -- probably not in that order, but there they came. And each time, fireworks would go off from the ceiling. I was so excited.

After some more entertainment from the cheerleaders and the dance team and the kick-ass band (yes, any band that plays Cee Lo Green, Kansas, and Edgar Winter Group, all in the same sitting, they are kick-ass in my book), the game is underway. It went so fast! We were winning, I loved it! But then, low and behold, what would happen? People come in late, and inform me I am in their seats. And you know what? I was. That's right, it wouldn't be me if I didn't do something stupid ALL the time. I zigged when I should have zagged, in other words, I went left in the row instead of right and ended up in the wrong section. So half the people in the correct section had to get up during the game and let us through to the correct seats. They were NOT happy campers. But hey, did I mention I don't care? Everybody makes mistakes, geez! These seats were worse, however, we were packed in like sardines. At this point, I am even more glad that I took my sweatshirt off beforehand.

Game continues, bad calls and all. And we got some bad calls. If you were watching the game, you probably saw them. Here's what I noticed. I am ADD. Not technically, I mean I don't take medication, but I have a short attention span. So, I found myself unable to pay attention to the actual game at times because I was so busy watching and listening to my surroundings, something that never happens when I'm sitting on my couch. Also something I don't notice when I'm at home on my couch, how EVERYBODY in the arena stands up and yells simultaneously when there is a bad call. And, I do mean everybody. I was scared for the refs at this point. I mean, would you want that many angry people gunning for you? I wouldn't. These people were angry. REALLY angry. Especially the woman below me to my right, she was very distracting. The entire game she yelled, every 5 seconds like clockwork, "C'mon Cats!" repeatedly. Sometimes she would thrown in a "GET EEEEM!!!" when I wasn't expecting it. Then there were a couple times that she yelled at the refs.  I wondered if this woman thought that she could actually be heard. We were in section 230. Row T. Practically on the roof. The chance that any of the players or Coach Cal hearing her were about as slim as me not hearing her. But she was acting like she was Coach Cal's right hand here. And her patience was wearing thin. I thought at one time I wouldn't be able to stop myself from hitting her she was so obnoxious, but, she came to watch, just like me. I just wish she would have done it more quietly.

I turned my attention back to the game. It was half-time. I wanted an ice cream. But nobody in my row shuffled away like I had hoped, and I didn't want it bad enough to make them get up for me again. Another sign I didn't need it. So, Auntie and I made conversation and people watched, always a favorite past time. We decided that for free we would have sit in the main back row. You can't beat free, you just can't.  I watched all the little halftime show in amazement. The cheerleaders and the flips, the dancers and their synchronization. The band playing so awesome. I was taking it all in. And then, back to the game.

Everything after half time is a blur mostly. I remember several 3 point shots from Jones, cause he was on fire! And I remember jumping to my feet in unison with everybody else each time. I felt like I was a part of something. I felt like I belonged. We were pulling it off again, another home win. However, I did get upset with Wiltjer after those stupid goof-ups he made that almost caused us some real problems. My first thought was, "It ain't no wonder we ain't got that many white boys, they ain't got no game!" and my second thought was, "Why is he still in there? Does his dad have money or something?" Moments later, he made a 3 point shot, and I was like, "Oh. That's why." What? I had legitimate thoughts. The guys behind me were saying the same thing, so I wasn't alone.

Not long after, the game was over. Everyone scattered, and I just sat there. Watching. Reliving. That had to be the shortest game ever. But I guess it just felt that way because I was there, watching. No annoying commercials to sit through. Just basketball. It actually reminded me of how I used to feel when I played. I missed playing. I missed being a part of a team. And it hit me. I had watched religion. Everyone claims that high school football and Friday nights are a religion, well so is UK basketball. I guess I always knew that in a way, but watching it happen, seeing it first hand, a people coming together to celebrate an event, all thinking and feeling the same way, there to support their team, win or lose. Well, that's somewhat of a worshiping to me, and a way of life. I noticed people there of all ages, older people who were probably alumni or long-time fans. Small children dressed up in their UK gear and waving their pom poms and #1 hands, sporting blue hair and painted faces. It was the coolest thing ever. I remember thinking how closely related the feeling was to attending a concert for me. It was a show, a performance, people came to watch and enjoy themselves. The only difference is, they were all wearing the same color. It was one amazing game. I couldn't help but think about how I'd make it back for another. I wanted to experience this again. But from a closer seat. It occurred to me that was the first time I'd been in the 'cheap seats' at Rupp. My fear of heights doesn't help either.

We headed out of the Arena finally, watching the masses scatter. Traffic was murder of course, and so was finding somewhere to feed our starving faces that wasn't an hour wait. But we amused ourselves by coming up with things my dad would say if he were stuck in traffic. Dad can be so entertaining. We could hear him talking as if he was there, "Can you get that 100 foot rig out of the road? I just don't think you can," "Give it a little gas, it's that right pedal, there," "Well you dumb son of a b***h, can't you drive no better than that?" "Well what in the hell is going on here? Have you ever seen the beat of this in your life?" And of course there a few more with some choice words I won't use. My dad is very fun to travel with.

All in all, it was a great experience. I loved it, I will go back, and I can't wait. Maybe this weekend if I can. But, as I sit here watching it snow, I think I better get up and start doing a few things in case my 'juice' goes out.  Thanks for reading!

<3 Peace!

Oh, Happy Day!.....NOT

SO. As most of you know, I took my LSAT for the second time yesterday. And I'm sure you all saw my post on Facebook about how awful it was. And some of you even commented on it to tell me how much faith you had in me and how well I probably did. And while I do appreciate that ever so much, and it warms my heart that I have such wonderful friends, I must now explain a few things about my day, why I think I did so horrible, and some other notes about my potential in law school.

My day started out pretty well. As most of you know, I spent the night with one of my best friends in this world Courtney (Tennill) Kleppinger. She lives a mile or so from UK where I went to take the LSAT. She took time out of her own day, to get up and make me made-from-scratch pancakes, and then take me and drop me off so that I wouldn't have to be lost on the campus or park in a paid lot.

Two problems.

1.) They listed the wrong address on my LSAT admission ticket. So even Courtney who goes to UK everyday got lost. We barely made it to the building on time, by the grace of God I might add, since the only place we were able to find the building was on Courtney's UK map, and it only loaded so fast on her phone because we just happened to be in front of the hospital where her phone recognized Wi-Fi.

2.) As I am walking toward the door, I realize, I have no driver's license and I turn to see Courtney turning left and driving away.

My first thought, I admit, was "SHIT!" It suddenly dawned on me and I had a flashback from my first LSAT experience where they told my classroom of semi-eager test takers that they had turned away a gentlemen who had forgotten his 'valid ID'. My second thought was, "That's gonna be me. Thousands of dollars in tutoring and expenses and I am the dumbass who forgot to bring their driver's license." Then I realized....Oh wait, I didn't drive. A valid excuse. But not good enough I knew.

I race into the building to the moderator and ask for a telephone, which is actually problem #3. We aren't allowed to have cell phones and why would I need one when I have a taxi? So this bitchy lady dialed the only number I could remember on her phone. She wouldn't let me dial it, which I thought was retarded. But guess what, that wasn't Courtney's number. I had actually forgotten a number. What was happening to me? She's had the same number for like ever, and I guess my phone had been dialing it instead of me, so..I forgot it. I did remember her house number, so I asked to call her house. My phone was on silent and would have done me no good at this point. The woman yet again, dialed the number for me as if I was incapable. Courtney's dad answered and I blurt out my problem. He told me her cell number, so I call and amazingly she answers. THANK GOD!

Now, here is the next problem. She's lost trying to get home. She wouldn't tell me that, but she didn't have to. I know Courtney, and I read it in her voice. I was playing with MINUTES. And Courtney was about to pass out from stress. I told her what was going on, and again with help from God, the only possible explanation, Courtney was able to make it back to her house and back to the building in time for me to be admitted. I was 'late' but I was admitted. But I was a mess. I couldn't breathe from all the running and racing to make it back to the building. I had been crying because I thought it was all over. I was nervous as hell because of all that had happened and shaking all over. And this is how I must begin the most important test of my career. I tried to remain calm. I tried to focus. But, my pep talk to myself didn't really do a whole lot of good.

So, they call the first section of the test. Automatically it is the arguments section. I had been trained for this. But my adrenaline is still pumping and my mind is running away with me. I'm still in panic mode. I tried to pace myself and do as I'd been taught by my wonderful tutor. But my mind was playing tricks on me. I couldn't focus. I was having to read each question two and three times. Time started running out...and I was screwed.

They call the second section. The games. I had spent hours on this. I did the first one. I think I did well on it. And then, the rest I looked at, didn't look anything like what I had been trained in. I tried to do a couple more. And I just failed. This really blew my self esteem. I just gave up pretty much.

They called the third section. Arguments, again. I tried to move faster and focus better, not have to read the questions as many times, answer more questions. But, still didn't do very well. I could feel it. Panic.

So, break time. I get 15 minutes to collect my thoughts, and talk myself into doing better. I say to my self, "Self, you got this. Don't let yourself fall victim to a little stress. You can do this. Focus. Read. Breathe. Just do it."

They call section four. More arguments. And my mind goes, "What the hell? Last time I had two arguments and two games..." Now, for all you confused folks, let me give you some background on the LSAT. There are 4 scored sections and an 'experimental' section. The experimental section can be a duplicate of either of the other sections, but the four scored sections HAVE to be two arguments, one games, and one reading comprehension.  It dawned on me I had spent like 10 hours of tutoring on games and 3 hours on arguments, for ONE freaking games section. Seriously? Can this day get ANY worse?

Wrong question to ask myself. Cause it did. The fifth and final multiple choice section, was reading comprehension. And, it was hard. No passage was understandable. It was like I was reading Spanish. And I can't read Spanish, just like I couldn't read and comprehend and understand what those passages were talking about. All I could think about was how bad I was going to do. I practically gave up in my mind, but I still tried to answer the questions. None of them made sense. But I still tried. I didn't give up.

And then, the final section. The 35 minute writing prompt. I did better on that, if nothing else. That's the only positive. However, that isn't even part of my score. That's just punishment. But I finished.

On the way out of the building, my mind starts going into depression mode. I lost focus again, just trying to find my way out of the building. I got lost and went out every door except the one I came in. I finally found it, and thank God I was wearing bright blue colors and Courtney could spot me because she had to chase me down. I was in such a horrid shape, that I couldn't even find my way back out of the building. And I have an amazing sense of direction. Ask Courtney, I was able to find a restaurant on the outskirts of Lexington on Friday, that I had only been to ONCE and two years ago.

If Courtney and her husband, Jonathan, whom she brought back as insurance that we would not get lost on the way home, will tell you the truth, they will tell you, that had they not known me and my personality, they would probably have thought I was on hard drugs when I came out of the test. I was a mess. I called my tutor and left a voicemail that sounded something like a rant from someone with Delirium Tremens.  I called my family, but nobody answered. I texted my brother and told him I failed. He was a little more supportive and tried to keep me positive.

Courtney and I had planned to go somewhere after the test. But I was in no shape to drive. That was a first. I told her that, too. I said, "Court, can you drive? I can't. I really don't think I am safe to be behind the wheel of a car." So, she was eager to make me feel better. We got in her car, and headed toward Hamburg. I called my mom, no answer. I called my dad, he did answer. I wish he hadn't. The one person I needed to tell me that it was OK, did not tell me it was OK. I went through another somewhat drunken sounding rant, talking 10 times faster than normal as if I had just snorted an Oxy. And his response was, "Well, you never listen. We all told you that it was gonna be harder and you couldn't do what you're doing and pass but you know everything...." and he basically gave me a lecture. I just started crying profusely. Courtney was heartbroken for me. I just hung up the phone. I couldn't believe it. I needed my dad, and he gave me an "I told you so." I wanted to throw myself in front of a bus. But I couldn't, Courtney was driving. So, I just sat there and cried.

Courtney found me some tissues and tried to give me her best pep talk. It worked for a while. She always makes me laugh and gives me something to smile about.  She told me, "Jessica, you don't have anything to be sad about. You GOT IN to the test, when really, you almost didn't make it. You took the test. You prepared for it. You did all you can do. You have nothing to feel bad about today." She drove us to Outback where I drowned my sorrows in bread and butter and steak. I finally started getting some color back in my face. I had brought some things to return across the street at Victoria's Secret and Kohl's. We had decided to watch a movie to take my mind off things. I found some Wildcat stuff on sale at Wildcat Warehouse, too. That made my day better. A sweatshirt, a tee shirt, and a bracelet for 26 bucks. Not a bad purchase. Then the best part, I found 3 pairs of boots at Kohl's for $39. I love Clearance. And I know you ALL are thinking, "she has 90 pairs of shoes." Well, you are correct. But as depressed as I was, that was the only thing that had a remote chance of making me feel better. Shoe shopping at bargain prices does wonders for me. Plus, my tutor, Clarissa, called me back and gave me a pep talk too. She's been really great, and she made my day better.

We went to the movies to load up on calories and diet pop. We chose The Vow, a good chick flick. Or, so we thought. I was crying within the first 15 minutes. Again contemplating the bus idea. Why am I torturing myself? Lord. Have. Mercy. It ended on a better note but still not as I'd liked. Then I saw it was a true story. Damn, maybe life wasn't so bad after all. It could be worse, I could wake up and have lost 5 years of my life. Oh, wait. Maybe that was a good idea.

Anyhow, we came out of the movie, it was dark, cold, and snowing. I knew it was time to head out. I had drove her crazy enough. I needed to drive, think, and crank some music. That was normally how I dealt with things. On the way home I saw this place called Orange Leaf, some yogurt joint everybody had been talking about.  I mentioned it, and Court realized I'd never been there, so we dumped a bowl of yogurt onto Nachos, popcorn and a river of diet pop. I felt froggy, obviously, so I dumped into my bowl...brownie batter and birthday cake yogurt, with Butterfinger pieces and cookie dough. YUM. We sat there and ate the whole bowl. And watched some strange couple with a TINY girl who looked 12, if that old, and a boy who looked about 16.

It. Was. Odd.  But highly entertaining. Courtney and I are too much alike. We enjoy the smallest things, like people watching and exchanging looks of laughter and agreement.

I get back to her house, get my stuff, and get on the road. She gives me one last pep talk. The best yet. And some Dove caramel chocolates for the road. I love her. And I would love to live behind her in her guest house and see her everyday, making Pinterest recipes and walking to school together. But I realize, that dream is probably far away if my LSAT scores are as bad as I think.

I start out driving, jamming some random playlist on m iPod, trying to sort through the day in my mind and some of the things that Courtney had said that had made sense. I try to form some sort of a plan, but it is of course, too early to form one for sure. Something Court did say was that if I am meant to be a lawyer, I will be one. So, I just have to wait it out. I don't know that I will get into UK as I'd hoped, but there are other schools. I don't know that I can put myself through the torture of another standardized test, as one of the thoughts running through my mind is the possibility that maybe I just don't test well in those circumstances, but who knows.

The point is, I survived it, not once but twice. I gave it everything I had under the stress of a full time job and family issues. I did all that I can do. Will it be good enough for UK? I doubt it. Is it good enough for me? Yep. And I'm the only one that matters. It's my future, and I know I will make it happen, regardless of my parents or my friends or some panel of teachers that think I'm stupid because I don't give a rat's ass about how many dresses hang on what hanger in Sally's closet (one of my games questions). I am intelligent, I am a thinker, and I am a long way from letting a stupid test score define my future. It's mine and only I can define me.

But I do owe Courtney. She saved my life yesterday. And she never lets me down. If you read this Court, thank you, and I love you. You are my hero. Now, time to get my life back in order. Thanks for reading!

Inspirational song for this post:

Even If It Breaks Your Heart

Way back on the radio dial,
the fire got lit inside a bright-eyed child.
Every note just wrapped around his soul,
from steel guitars to Memphis, all the way to rock and roll.

Ohhh, I can hear em playin'.
I can hear the ringin' of a beat up ol' guitar.
Ohhh, I can hear em singin',
"Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart."

Downtown is where I used to wander.
Old enough to get there but too young to get inside.
So I would stand out on the sidewalk,
listen to the music playin' every Friday night.

Ohhh, I can hear em playin'.
I can hear the ringin' of a beat up ol' guitar.
Ohhh, I can hear em singin',
"Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart."

Some dreams stay with you forever,
drag you around but bring you back to where you were.
Some dreams keep on gettin' better,
gotta keep believin' if you wanna know for sure.

Ohhh, I can hear em playin'.
I can hear the ringin' of a beat up ol' guitar.
Ohhh, I can hear em singin',
"Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart."

Ohhh, I can hear em playin'.
I can hear the ringin' of a beat up ol' guitar.
Ohhh, I can hear em singin',
"Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart."

Keep on dreamin', even if it breaks your heart.

Ohhh oh oh.
Ohhh oh ohh.

Keep on dreamin'.