You can love your dog, just don't LOVE your dog... to death.

Ok, y'all know I'm kind of nuts about my dog.  I buy her too many toys and feed her expensive food.  I definitely talk about her too much.  And I do occasionally worry about what would happen to her if I were in a car accident or something.  I don't spend inordinate amounts of time worrying about this, just the odd thought here and there.  (But my friends probably should know that the best thing they could do for me when they get that phone call about my car accident is track down the person who has the key to my house and get someone on doggy duty.)

But were I to get into that bad car accident and not survive, I would never want anyone to euthanize her so she can be buried with me!  I'm sure she would be a sad doggy and would spend lots of time waiting for me to come home, but that is no reason to cut her healthy life short.  I may be a little too attached to my dog, but at least I know I can't take her with me.

Random Tidbits

1) There's nothing like an old friend posting a photo from your high school prom to make you realize how far you've come.  (And perhaps I should rethink this friending high school folks on facebook thing.)

2) I have apparently become quite the social butterfly of late.  I have had many weeks in which I did not have a single night free.  I don't have another day without a social obligation until next Monday.  And on many days before then, I actually have multiple options.  I can't quite decide if I like this or not.  My dish and laundry pile are suffering.  And Maddie decidedly does not like it.

3) We all would do well to remember that not all biological materials yielding DNA results are blood.  Many samples are other materials, like vomit, saliva, vaginal fluid, semen, or even just skin cells.  Let's not just assume any positive DNA result is blood because it isn't.

4) When a former client files a habeas corpus motion alleging I provided ineffective assistance of counsel, the prosecutor does not "represent" me.  And I don't need defending.  If I screwed up, the only ethical thing for me to do is own it and try to correct the mistake.  I don't actually consider it a personal attack on me and even if I did, well, I'm a big girl and can handle it.  What I can't handle is a prosecutor who describes me as "cagey" because I have the nerve to still feel some sense of loyalty to the client and still protect his/her right to attorney/client confidentiality.

5) Matt Cassell has turned out to be a pretty decent quarterback.  And if he keeps passing, moving, and blocking like he did against Seattle on Sunday, I might even declare him the best-looking quarterback in the league.  (Yes, my judgment of his looks does in part depend upon his play.  Though objectively, I think it must be admitted he's a good-looking guy.  He'll just look much better to me if (when) the Chiefs make the play-offs.)

At dinner tonight with my parents, a famous local criminal case came up in conversation.  My dad insisted that the case had resulted in a particular outcome, but I assured him he was incorrect.  He persisted in his assertion until my mom spoke up and said that no, my dad was wrong.  My dad responded by conceding he must be misremembering something because the expert said so.  He was referring to my mom as the expert.  And my mom was quite willing to accept the title of expert.

Umm.  Do these people know what I do for a living?  My mom is a very lovely, smart, well-informed woman and she was, in fact, correct, as evidenced by the fact that she was agreeing with me.  And I acknowledge that she has a long history of activism on criminal justice matters, most notably in opposition to the death penalty.  So she really does know her stuff and my dad is right to defer to her superior knowledge.  But I have to pull a little rank here; he should have deferred to my even greater knowledge long before Mom ever spoke up!  Because on matters pertaining to Kansas criminal law, I actually AM an expert! 

The fact that this irked me as much as it did suggests that I might have some unresolved issues from my childhood relating to my dad not taking my word for things on subjects that he should have trusted I knew about.

Who needs a guardian angel? I just need a coffee angel.

I have often bemoaned the fact that there is no coffee shop in this town that delivers.  Never more so than this morning, the morning after taking a limo to Kansas City's Power and Light District, spending several hours singing and dancing at a dueling piano bar, and not arriving home until 2:30 a.m.  (I would note I am not the least bit hung over, just exhausted.  A dueling piano bar really can't be enjoyed properly if too much alcohol is involved.)

In the past, I have on occasion let it be known on Facebook that I wish a coffee shop delivered and that if any of my dear friends wanted to bring me a vanilla latte, I would accept that kind offering.  Strangely, no one has ever actually brought me that latte.  It's like they think I should be able to get my own damn latte or make my own coffee in one of my 3 coffee makers or something.  Sheesh. 

Until today.  Because today, when I begged for a 4-shot, Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks, Mr. Awesome actually brought me exactly that.  Thereby establishing that my nice friend, the coffee angel, is in fact the greatest person on earth.  You rock, sir.  And I am now much closer to meeting my goal of not leaving my property all day.

Sally Albright taught us that once we've said something, we can't take it back.  No matter how much we might want to, it's already out there.  Once it's already out there, there's only one thing you can do.  Just let it lie.

Of course Sally's right.  I wish she weren't.  I would give just about anything to take back 5 little words today.  But I can't.  Nothing I do or say will fix it.  So I really do have to let it lie.  If only I were any good at letting things lie.

Wouldn't it be nice if we each got like 5 take-backs in life?  Some system that would allow us to wipe our much-regretted words from the memories of their recipients?  'Cause I would use one today.

Sometimes prosecutors' closing arguments are so outrageously frustrating, they make me want to jam a knitting needle in my eye. Perhaps I shouldn't knit while reading transcripts.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Skinny jeans update

Every woman has a pair of skinny jeans in her closet.  The pair she holds on to as her ideal, the jeans that make her feel her best.  Even when we can't quite fit into them, we keep them and use them as the measure of when we've gotten back to our dream weight.  I actually had two: my skinny jeans and my super skinny jeans.  I hadn't been able to wear either of them for a while, but over the summer, I made my way back into both.  But I didn't stop there.

The skinny jeans now require a belt.  The super skinny jeans now look like a relaxed fit jean.  They have been replaced by a new pair of super duper skinny jeans.  Size 2 jeans.  And judging by the reactions I've received, they look pretty darn good.  Yes, I'm bragging, but I don't think I've ever been able to buy size 2 jeans before in my life, so I think I've earned one little braggy post.

I should be shocked, but I'm not really

You can probably guess how I feel about this story without me writing anything.  Yep, that's right, I enjoyed this story and thought it was a giant hoot.  I am a big, big fan of jailers using stun guns on inmates as some kind of sport.  I am all for randomly tasing disabled and pregnant inmates just for the fun of it.  And inmates should definitely be shocked with stun guns for violating jail rules or simply to "soften them up" to make sure they don't violate rules in the future.

Oh, wait.  I think all of those things are bad, evil, immoral, criminal, and generally an indicator of really, really bad character.  I hope that the Feds charge the crap out of all of those Franklin County Ohio jailers.  I hope people lose jobs, pay massive fines, and do time in jail.  And when they're doing that time in jail, I hope they're treated fairly and compassionately by their jailers.

In which a celebrity gossip story irks my feminist sensibilities

I'm not a big country music fan, but I do like my celebrity gossip.  So I've heard plenty about the LeAnn Rimes - Eddie Cibrian scandal.  For purposes of this rant, it really isn't important that you are familiar with these people.  LeAnn is the big country star who got her first record deal when she was 13.  Eddie has been on several tv shows over the years.  Both LeAnn and Eddie were married to other people when they met on the set of their t.v. movie. 

Soon, rumors swirled that LeAnn's "good girl" image was tainted by an affair.  Nobody seemed all that worried about Eddie's image.  Sure enough, LeAnn announced she was divorcing.  Then Eddie, too, filed for divorce.  And just a few months later, Eddie and LeAnn were living together.  Shape magazine put LeAnn on their October cover and received complaints for celebrating a "husband-stealer", prompting the magazine to apologize.  I am unaware of any calls to keep that "wife-stealing" Eddie off magazine covers.  For her part, LeAnn has expressed some sadness that things went the way they did, but maintains that both of their marriages were failing anyway and does not regret choosing to be with the man she loves.  Nobody has asked Eddie to explain himself (other than, presumably, his ex-wife) but then no one ever projected a false, unfair, unattainable image of perfection on him.  'Cause he's just a man.

And today comes news that Eddie and LeAnn are officially engaged.  Or as msnbc puts it, "Eddie Cibrian is going to make an honest woman out of LeAnn Rimes."  Which pretty much made my head explode.  Because, see, only LeAnn is the adulterer.  Only LeAnn is the cheater.  She's the dirty, dirty whore of a woman who needs to be purified, made honest, by a man.  Fortunately for her, Eddie (that adultering wife-stealer) is just the man to do it.  Phew.

Really, really Artur for AG

I made the mistake of watching t.v. in bed last night.  (How I Met Your Mother is on at all hours these days, so even though I have the series on DVD, I can't turn off the t.v. if a good episode is on.)  As a result, I saw commercial after commercial in the Kansas Attorney General race.  Now, as I've already told you, I have no intention of voting for either of these smarmy politicians.  But if I hadn't already been decided on Artur for A.G., I'm fairly certain last night's commercials would have persuaded me not to vote for either of them.

This election seems to be all about which of the two of them is the real prosecutor, the guy who has been a personal injury lawyer and judge or the guy who has been in the state senate for 10 years. 

Steve Six (trial lawyer/judge) says he is the real prosecutor because he has prosecuted two (2!) trials himself, both of which will he was AG.  I wasn't in the courtroom for either of those trials, but I have been told by those who were that his inexperience at trying criminal cases showed.  There have also been rumors that he has actively sought out cases he could take over from county attorney's offices so that he could get more experience prior to election season. 

Then there's Derek Schmidt (Senator) who insists he is the real prosecutor because he has personally prosecuted over fifty (50!) violent criminals (Domestic batterers!  Those who assault law enforcement officers!) himself just this very year.  Ooh, that sounds impressive.  Except his prosecutorial experience comes as a small town city prosecutor where he practices entirely in municipal court.  That's not even "real" court.  He's probably handling 3 or 4 "trials" in one evening session and who knows how many of those even involve opposing counsel.  The folks facing battery and assault charges in municipal court aren't exactly the sort of violent criminals his commercial might lead voters to believe.  Violent felonies aren't tried in municipal court.

So I don't think either of them are really all that great on prosecutorial experience.  But my bigger question is, so what?  Does the Attorney General himself really need to be in the courtroom, trying felonies?  Or should he perhaps leave that to the experienced prosecutors on his staff so he can do his actual job of administering the entire agency?  I personally opt for choice 2.  I don't expect my Attorney General to spend his time in a courtroom, focusing only on criminal cases.  The AG's office does not just handle criminal prosecutions, but also oversees consumer protection and all sorts of civil matters.  It is essentially the state's law firm.  The AG's office would actually  represent me were I to be sued.  The Attorney General's office handles a wide variety of legal matters and only steps in to criminal cases when individual counties ask for assistance or have a conflict.  The AG should be a lawyer well-versed in many areas of law so he can oversee the entire office, but should fill each department with attorneys who specialize in that area of law.  So, no, I don't expect the actual Attorney General to prosecute cases personally; I expect him to set policy and supervise the people who actually prosecute.  Evidently, though, I'm in the minority because prosecuting big, bad scary violent criminals is all these two want to talk about.  No wonder I don't want to vote for either of them: they don't even understand the job they're running for.

Fortunately, this will all be over tomorrow and I can go back to being sold sneakers and soda and fast food while I watch my late night sitcoms.  And maybe over the next 4 years I can at least get some entertainment value out of watching Mr. "I prosecute violent criminals in municipal court" take over a capital murder case in big kid court.

It is time to face the cold,  hard truth: There is nothing for me in this town anymore.  Nothing.  The place I love more than anywhere else in the world and the place I swore I would never leave has become hell.  Everything I thought I had built here has turned to dust.  For months, I have resisted suggestions that I move somewhere because I thought I had something to hold onto.  But it has become all too apparent to me over the past week that I have been holding onto an illusion.  What I thought should be my greatest source of comfort, the thing that should have given me a reason to keep plugging along even when I felt down, has instead become my greatest source of frustration.  And I feel utterly powerless to fix it.  I feel powerless to voice my frustration in any way that will be heard and respected.

And so, I am officially on the job market.  I hate applying for jobs and had long delighted in the fact that I would never have to go through that process again because I believed that if I ever switched jobs, it would be as a result of an opportunity looking for me, not the other way around.  I'm exhausted already at thinking about all of the logistics involved, the applying for a license in another state, dealing with my house (which I probably will have to rent as I can't afford to sell it), finding a new place to live, the actual move, etc.  But I will not survive here.  Not as anyone I want to be.  And the sad truth is that my departure won't affect anyone's daily life here.  The last 9 years of my life have largely been a waste and I have got to cut my losses before it's too late for me.

So, my fellow defenders, if any of you know of any job possibilities, please let me know.  (Preferably no mountains, desert, or states where I would have to take a bar exam.)