Thursday, May 31, 2007

Today's News.

The Boston Globe reports on a medical malpractice case in which the defendant was confronted on the stand by his own blog.  The case settled the next day.
Come to us with your problems, they say.  Trust us.  This irks me to no end.  Organizing a meeting of illegal citizens with Homeland Security is a Bad Idea.  Encouraging the very communities that have their civil liberties violated DAILY to work with the police just raises my hackles.  Despite my distrust for officers, I can respect the concept of informing undocumented residents that they can go to the police to report crimes, without fearing their immigration status will come up.  (Unfortunately, that is not true in all states, particularly the states who are deputizing their troopers as Homeland Security agents.)  But I don't like the idea that citizens should be encouraged to regard police as general problem solvers - because they aren't.  Police arrest people.  That's their 'problem solving.'  They won't help you with your immigration papers (or at least, they shouldn't be.  They are NOT LAWYERS!)  They don't get your family member / friend / significant other into counseling or into drug programs when you call them (another widely held misconception).  And people should not be encouraged to trust police officers to search them without cause - because police are roaming the streets, illegally shaking people down, lying about how / why they found the contraband / evidence, and walking back out of the courtroom to do it again.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007


Aforementioned male:
You kissed me.  That made me all warm and fuzzy.  And I pretty much haven't heard from you since.  This makes me cold and angry.  Listen dude, I was minding my own business when you came by and started distracting me.  You can't now just leave me to continue on my mundane life.  I'd rather not be interrupted in the first place.

Friday, May 25, 2007

I'm not complaining, but still...

For over a decade, I've strongly held the belief that if I weren't overweight, then I'd be knee-deep in boyfriends.  My weight has always been a source of consternation, followed by my secret dislike for my teeth, my nose, my hair, my eyes, my eyebrows, my feet, and my sadly shaped tuckus.  Thusly, when a member of the opposite sex shows interest in me, my first instinct is to think, "Thank goodness there is at least one person in this world that thinks I'm not a complete and total reject.  There may be hope after all."  Only after that brief respite do I start thinking about rational things like, Do I like this guy or not?  Does he like me or did he just want to get a closer look at the rack?
So from this place, you can imagine that I'm both delighted and very uncomfortable with the fact that not once, but twice this week I had the same two men fighting for my attention.
I'm bewildered.  It's not comfortable to be wedged between two men competing for your affection.  I like them both.  I'd be interested in seeing both of them again at some point.  Just preferably not in the same place at the same time.

Thursday, May 24, 2007


If there are any readers left out there, well, color me surprised.  I haven't been too good with our communication recently, I know.  Things just get crazy sometimes.  I'm starting to accept that my life does not look like a Honda parked in the driveway of a 3 BR home with a backyard and a grill.  I'm envious of those lives, but it's not mine right now.  I've now embraced the fact that my life is work, work, gym, drink, drink, kiss, sleep, gym, work, drink drink drink.  Not necessarily always in that order. 
I've been out of town a lot lately, too.  As a matter of fact, since March, I've only been in town one weekend that I was not working.  This has resulted in me crashing pretty hard over the past few days - I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open after lunch, or after work, or after dinner.  That didn't stop me from drinking 2 out of the past 3 nights, however.  Aren't you proud?
This weekend is promising.  I'm in town, no plans to do any work, my roomies will be gone, the weather will be nice.  I should do spring cleaning, but I'll probably just watch a lot of the Food Network or sun myself in the grass.  But mostly I will just sleep, and I will love it.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Friday, May 11, 2007


It's been a long time since I've cried at work, which is great!  And is attributable to several recent changes.  But today almost broke that streak - almost. 
I had a moment that shot right through the routine of my day, right through my professional wall, that grabbed me and pulled me under into the depths of despair and it left me unarmed for the remainder of the day.
Yesterday was a hard day.  It was very busy and very, very, very long.  Towards the end, there were a lot of cases that were the perfect storm - domestic cases, clients with prior records, weapons, blood.  Cases that clients explained indignantly as, "It was a verbal argument" followed by "I haven't caught ANY cases in YEARS" (6 months ago = Years?) "I haven't caught a felony in a LONG time man, someone should be respectin' me for that!"  I'm sorry, you have 15 convictions.  I want to tell you that you're a good person for not picking up a felony in the past 8 months.  I do think that is very good, and I commend you.  However, I have to focus on what the judge wants to focus on, not whether you deserve a gold star.  But hey, no felony!  Bonus!  You're right, the reason you aren't getting out is because I didn't fight for you.  I mean, but for me, you totally would've walked.  Why did you tell me it was a verbal argument if there was blood found all over the hallway to the door?  That would've been good to know before we walked out here, really.
In the middle of a day of these tiring and ineffective conversations, one client asked very directly, "Am I getting out?  Because I need an xray of my chest."
And then I died a little bit inside.
The idea that there are people being roughed around by "the law" and thrown to the ground, knees in their back, in a chokehold, tossed over the hood of a car - the very behavior being condemned when someone not in uniform does it - just drives me insane.  This guy was banged up, and he was in pain, and I couldn't do a damn thing for him.  Nothing.  The cops will never be accountable for it, because my guy's just a criminal to them.  I can't stop them from doing it to him again, which they will.  All I can do is say, "I'm sure there's excellent medical care in the county jail" if I'm lying or, "I'll see what I can do" if I can't bring myself to tell the truth.  I want to hold his hand and say, "I'm so sorry for your pain and injuries.  We'll get you through this."  But I can't bring myself to make empty promises, either.
So you think your public defender doesn't fight for you, doesn't care about you, doesn't want to beat the system.  You are wrong.  Your public defender fights for you until she's broken and scarred, cares for you and wants you to be successful, and rages against the system more than you know.  And when your public defender goes home at night, she cries for you.