Just so you don't think I spend all my time rolling my eyes at morons- I spent Sunday helping a client clean her home. I learned a lesson which I hope you will remember:
Just because she was in the middle of divorcing the abusive ass and he killed himself, doesn't mean the whole thing is a cake ride. Sure she got to move back into the house- but everything reminds her of him. His stuff is everywhere. His car, his dog. Sometimes, she feels guilty that his killed himself, sometimes she feels guilty for being glad he's dead. Sometimes she feels guilty for feeling bad that he killed himself- because she's supposed to hate him for hurting her. And she's going through all this in her early 20's. Her family? They had written her off before this happened because she didn't leave him the first time he abused her, and now they have no sympathy for her. No one helped her plan the funeral, no one helped her clean out his stuff. She has to think about what their daughter will want when she grows up- she's 18 months. She has to work full time and take care of their child.
So, I went and helped organize and clean and made lunch, and we got a lot done. I just kept telling her that as long as she can go to work and take care of the baby the rest of it could wait. We put a lot of stuff into the junk room to be dealt with later- but at least her living room and bed room are clean so she doesn't lie on the couch and feel guilty for not doing more. I suggested she bring out a box a week to sort through and it would be done by Christmas.
Next week we'll finish repairing the bathroom (from where he pounded the wall in.) and paint. Nothing makes you feel more at home than new paint.
"Sometimes a majority simply means all the fools are on the same side." Thomas Jefferson
Monday, September 18, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Wherein people make unfortunate choices in clothes for Court....
Yesterday it was the young woman standing at the bench wearing tight blue jeans that made her not cute belly flow over the top even more. Her jeans were accented by a pink and white rhinestone Playboy Bunny belt buckle, with the bunny ears reaching several inches above the jeans and into the soft belly, and I say "into the belly" advisedly, as she was wearing a top that ended several inches above her jeans so the belt buckle really did push into her belly. Her shirt was yellow and said, "Divalicious" in sparkly blue and silver glitter. I've watched "The Girls Next Door," BTW, and not a singly one of them would dress that way for Court. Hef would fuss at them and they have waaaay more class than that.
Today my favorite was the man who was asked to remove his hat. It said, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Bwwaahhhhh.
Oh, and the large woman, definitely over 40, who ran from the Courtroom screaming and in tears wearing a, a, I can only describe it as one of those bubble dresses like little girls would wear with bloomers under it, only, it was navy and tan and actually would have been kind of cute on the tennis Court or as a beach cover up, but not for a restitution hearing. And not without bloomers. I can confidently report to you she was wearing red lace underwear under it, which is something I could have happily gone my whole life not knowing.
Today my favorite was the man who was asked to remove his hat. It said, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Bwwaahhhhh.
Oh, and the large woman, definitely over 40, who ran from the Courtroom screaming and in tears wearing a, a, I can only describe it as one of those bubble dresses like little girls would wear with bloomers under it, only, it was navy and tan and actually would have been kind of cute on the tennis Court or as a beach cover up, but not for a restitution hearing. And not without bloomers. I can confidently report to you she was wearing red lace underwear under it, which is something I could have happily gone my whole life not knowing.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Funny thing in the South...
So, I'm sitting in court this morning reading up on my local happenings and there was an interesting report in Sunday's paper. Seems a man came to the police station last week saying he had been kidnapped.
Actually, that in and of itself, wouldn't be that interesting: happens more often than it should. Here's what was interesting: He tells the police he was kidnapped at gunpoint and held so the kidnappers could pray for him.
That's right, two women and one man held the victim at gun point for several hours so they could pray for him. ( Apparently, I don't just live in the belt buckle of the Bible belt, I live in the spurs of the cowboy boots of the bible belt. )
The man escaped later that night, but didn't go to the authorities until the kidnappers threatened to do it again. The police said point blank they had dealt with all the parties in this case before and they didn't believe him. However, when they went to investigate, not only did the physical evidence match up- the man told them one of the women had fired the gun into the ceiling- but the women confessed. In addition, a neighbor saw the police at the house and turned the guns the women asked her to hold for them over to them.
The police also stated that the man made other claims which were far more outlandish but the police would not repeat those claims. I heard one of those claims was that the women had blessed a necklace and told the man that if he did drugs again, God would make it grow warm on her neck and she would know he was doing drugs.
I think he mostly went to the police because he was afraid of her necklace. I guess nothin ruins a good high like worryin' your old lady already knows about it.
Reminds me of a story I heard where the police got a man to confess by putting a colander on his head with some wires going to a copy machine. They put a piece of paper that said "you're lying" on the glass of the copy machine and told the man he was hooked up to a lie detector. They then proceeded with questioning. Whenever they felt he wasn't being truthful, they would press the button and out would pop, "you're lying." They extracted a confession rather quickly.
I wonder, of course, at the validity of a confession extracted that way.... All the way around- legally, truth wise and morally.
Actually, that in and of itself, wouldn't be that interesting: happens more often than it should. Here's what was interesting: He tells the police he was kidnapped at gunpoint and held so the kidnappers could pray for him.
That's right, two women and one man held the victim at gun point for several hours so they could pray for him. ( Apparently, I don't just live in the belt buckle of the Bible belt, I live in the spurs of the cowboy boots of the bible belt. )
The man escaped later that night, but didn't go to the authorities until the kidnappers threatened to do it again. The police said point blank they had dealt with all the parties in this case before and they didn't believe him. However, when they went to investigate, not only did the physical evidence match up- the man told them one of the women had fired the gun into the ceiling- but the women confessed. In addition, a neighbor saw the police at the house and turned the guns the women asked her to hold for them over to them.
The police also stated that the man made other claims which were far more outlandish but the police would not repeat those claims. I heard one of those claims was that the women had blessed a necklace and told the man that if he did drugs again, God would make it grow warm on her neck and she would know he was doing drugs.
I think he mostly went to the police because he was afraid of her necklace. I guess nothin ruins a good high like worryin' your old lady already knows about it.
Reminds me of a story I heard where the police got a man to confess by putting a colander on his head with some wires going to a copy machine. They put a piece of paper that said "you're lying" on the glass of the copy machine and told the man he was hooked up to a lie detector. They then proceeded with questioning. Whenever they felt he wasn't being truthful, they would press the button and out would pop, "you're lying." They extracted a confession rather quickly.
I wonder, of course, at the validity of a confession extracted that way.... All the way around- legally, truth wise and morally.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Wherein lots of people do dumb things
So, Paris, lets have a little chat. (And, Mel, you should listen in too....)
You are worth a lot of money, and have a lot of money---I mean, its not all tied up in land, or some trust you can't actually touch or anything--- you really should have a driver. Lets face it, you can afford someone to drive you around and the penalty for a DUI is more than mere money- you could kill someone, or ruin your career. (Ok, I guess if the sex tapes didn't ruin your "career" this isn't going to either but you know..... you could kill someone, or maim your pretty face.) I know, I know- you don't want to take money from Mom and Dad, but still- you sell your appearance at parties, sing, dance, writhe, act and wave to make your own money. And I Know you're really trying to save up and buy some dignity, but I promise you that the, oh heck 60 or 70 k ? A year you'd pay someone pretty loyal to sit and wait on your every whim would be money well spent. Shoot, for $200,000 (Which I understand, is the cost of you appearing at a single party) you could get someone very loyal to you to be your beck and call boy. Or girl.
Get some sense you foolish girl.
And that goes double for you Mel. Dear Lord, you have enough money to "buy" your own house of worship- Why don't you work on being more Christ like by giving away your money, say as salary for someone deserving to be your chauffeur? You could pick someone putting him/her self through school. Or a nice Opus Dei member who needs help.
I (sometimes) feel bad for my clients who work hard all week and just want to relax a little bit on the weekends and end up with a DUI after answering the call of Taco Hell at 2 AM, or going to pick up their even drunker friend, or just trying to make it home from their friend's house-- they can't afford minions to go for them and this little town has approximately 3 cabs so they're just not practical-- but you people are just spoiled rotten and need to think about someone besides yourselves.
And then there is this guy:
http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/wcStory?contentId=5942910&storyNumber=2&FSO1&ATT=HMA
Hmmm, what in the world would persuade this man to drive around nekked? Or, better question, what in the world would cause someone to drive around nekkid that wouldn't be a crime in and of itself beyond the whole being nekkid in public? I'm assuming there was something else going on there... People don't just wake up and say, "Today's a nice day to drive around nekkid." Frankly, If I were that cop I would have not have let it slide because its practically evidence of corruption in and of itself to have not arrested the man for something further- you know?
Ok, that's all for today : )
You are worth a lot of money, and have a lot of money---I mean, its not all tied up in land, or some trust you can't actually touch or anything--- you really should have a driver. Lets face it, you can afford someone to drive you around and the penalty for a DUI is more than mere money- you could kill someone, or ruin your career. (Ok, I guess if the sex tapes didn't ruin your "career" this isn't going to either but you know..... you could kill someone, or maim your pretty face.) I know, I know- you don't want to take money from Mom and Dad, but still- you sell your appearance at parties, sing, dance, writhe, act and wave to make your own money. And I Know you're really trying to save up and buy some dignity, but I promise you that the, oh heck 60 or 70 k ? A year you'd pay someone pretty loyal to sit and wait on your every whim would be money well spent. Shoot, for $200,000 (Which I understand, is the cost of you appearing at a single party) you could get someone very loyal to you to be your beck and call boy. Or girl.
Get some sense you foolish girl.
And that goes double for you Mel. Dear Lord, you have enough money to "buy" your own house of worship- Why don't you work on being more Christ like by giving away your money, say as salary for someone deserving to be your chauffeur? You could pick someone putting him/her self through school. Or a nice Opus Dei member who needs help.
I (sometimes) feel bad for my clients who work hard all week and just want to relax a little bit on the weekends and end up with a DUI after answering the call of Taco Hell at 2 AM, or going to pick up their even drunker friend, or just trying to make it home from their friend's house-- they can't afford minions to go for them and this little town has approximately 3 cabs so they're just not practical-- but you people are just spoiled rotten and need to think about someone besides yourselves.
And then there is this guy:
http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/wcStory?contentId=5942910&storyNumber=2&FSO1&ATT=HMA
Hmmm, what in the world would persuade this man to drive around nekked? Or, better question, what in the world would cause someone to drive around nekkid that wouldn't be a crime in and of itself beyond the whole being nekkid in public? I'm assuming there was something else going on there... People don't just wake up and say, "Today's a nice day to drive around nekkid." Frankly, If I were that cop I would have not have let it slide because its practically evidence of corruption in and of itself to have not arrested the man for something further- you know?
Ok, that's all for today : )
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Ode to Mr. Sketch....
I was at the office supply store yesterday and in the bin of sale items I found a treat.
A brand new set of 12 Mr. Sketch markers.
That's right- From Blueberry to mango to raspberry... To Licorice and melon- all of the colors and smells of your childhood in a box for a mere $4.99. Do you remember? The cover would slide off the Styrofoam cradle and you could pull each color out of its snug little bed and put them back in order.... You could even color each slot in its color if you wanted, or play around with the order. Well, the cradle is gone, and I think some of the smells have been re-vamped, but the allure and and promise of a box of Mr. Sketch markers remains unchanged.
I never had the full set- but I did once have a set with the brown missing, which was ok because I didn't really need brown- and I feel like a kid again. Like that first day of school when you have your perfect notebooks and pens and books all covered in brown paper bags your mom helped you cut and tape around the covers of your books, before the homework and the lunchroom cliques- when you're excited and can't wait to learn something new and see your friends... Before you remember how tedious and monotonous school really is.
These memories came before I even opened my new treat- as I pulled them out of the bin I knew I would buy them and take them to the office with me. I finally sat down at my desk this morning when I got back from Court and it was the blue I went to first. Heavenly. Long deep breath in- fake blueberry, then I was quickly on to the red- Ahhhh, cherry like a cherry icee cherry. Like no cherry in nature- a satisfyingly artificial smell like a mariseno (Sp? ) cherry in the bottle with the fake red dye. Yellow, lemon, makes your mouth water... And orange- smells like the taste of tang in the back of your nose when you open the container to scoop out the powder. Brown- Cinnamon. Smells like rules to me : ) Black, licorice, smells like my mother because that was always her favorite. Green like mint gum, you want to suck it out of the marker...
Then the wierd colors: Turquoise which I think smells different- I just don't remember it smelling like it does. The box says Mango. The Dk. Green apple smells revamped too, although I did like it, but the raspberry smells the same- absolutely nothing like raspberry, but the same none the less. Purple smells like grape Kool-Aid- sweet enough to satisfy your thirst from the smell alone.
Then we come to the final color of the set: Pink, which is melon.
I just didn't remember that there was a connection between my two least favorite things in the world- Pink and melon. The first whiff of smell makes me irritated. It also makes me wonder if I dislike pink because it smelled like melon when I was a child and melon makes me sick. I did have a pink bed spread mommie dearest always insisted I picked out- did my dislike emerge later on when I had a set of these? Fascinating. I will have to mull that over.
Later.
After I sit here and smell the other markers for a couple of hours. Blue and red at the same time... I think I'm on to something here.
Fortunately, they are water soluble and I can wash the marks I am sure to get under my nose from sniffing these puppies.
A brand new set of 12 Mr. Sketch markers.
That's right- From Blueberry to mango to raspberry... To Licorice and melon- all of the colors and smells of your childhood in a box for a mere $4.99. Do you remember? The cover would slide off the Styrofoam cradle and you could pull each color out of its snug little bed and put them back in order.... You could even color each slot in its color if you wanted, or play around with the order. Well, the cradle is gone, and I think some of the smells have been re-vamped, but the allure and and promise of a box of Mr. Sketch markers remains unchanged.
I never had the full set- but I did once have a set with the brown missing, which was ok because I didn't really need brown- and I feel like a kid again. Like that first day of school when you have your perfect notebooks and pens and books all covered in brown paper bags your mom helped you cut and tape around the covers of your books, before the homework and the lunchroom cliques- when you're excited and can't wait to learn something new and see your friends... Before you remember how tedious and monotonous school really is.
These memories came before I even opened my new treat- as I pulled them out of the bin I knew I would buy them and take them to the office with me. I finally sat down at my desk this morning when I got back from Court and it was the blue I went to first. Heavenly. Long deep breath in- fake blueberry, then I was quickly on to the red- Ahhhh, cherry like a cherry icee cherry. Like no cherry in nature- a satisfyingly artificial smell like a mariseno (Sp? ) cherry in the bottle with the fake red dye. Yellow, lemon, makes your mouth water... And orange- smells like the taste of tang in the back of your nose when you open the container to scoop out the powder. Brown- Cinnamon. Smells like rules to me : ) Black, licorice, smells like my mother because that was always her favorite. Green like mint gum, you want to suck it out of the marker...
Then the wierd colors: Turquoise which I think smells different- I just don't remember it smelling like it does. The box says Mango. The Dk. Green apple smells revamped too, although I did like it, but the raspberry smells the same- absolutely nothing like raspberry, but the same none the less. Purple smells like grape Kool-Aid- sweet enough to satisfy your thirst from the smell alone.
Then we come to the final color of the set: Pink, which is melon.
I just didn't remember that there was a connection between my two least favorite things in the world- Pink and melon. The first whiff of smell makes me irritated. It also makes me wonder if I dislike pink because it smelled like melon when I was a child and melon makes me sick. I did have a pink bed spread mommie dearest always insisted I picked out- did my dislike emerge later on when I had a set of these? Fascinating. I will have to mull that over.
Later.
After I sit here and smell the other markers for a couple of hours. Blue and red at the same time... I think I'm on to something here.
Fortunately, they are water soluble and I can wash the marks I am sure to get under my nose from sniffing these puppies.
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