cindy's world

Shortly before lunch, I was discussing a problematic divorce case I was processing with my Family Law resource judge. The judge explained some legal things to me, the result of which was the elicitation of the following comment from me: “So the key is, to not get married. This sucks. I’m glad I’m single.”

He, a jovial happily-married man of I don’t know how many decades (still on his 1st wife), said, “Well, marriage is a good thing if you’re with the right person. Being married to the right person is like being on a long date in which neither of you have to go home.”

I really like that characterization. I remember being in love with a boyfriend who had plans to stay over with me after a date. I remember thinking it was like a wonderful slumber party in which after the events are over, there’s more fun to be had because you still have more hang time left. This felt especially true after a party or a social gathering. After everyone leaves is the time when you’re sorta sad that the night is over. But it’s not over when you get to go home with someone you really enjoy spending time with. Especially someone you can curl up with all night and talk to about random things. And when you wake up, more cuddling and connecting. Sometimes there’s even “other stuff” to be “had.”

Yup, marriage should be warm, safe and fuzzy like spooning your cat on a Saturday morning.

You know what I find amazing? I’ve just read 4 consecutive blogs in which I was mentioned in a new post, either by initials, first name, or some nickname. Wow. I’m so flattered. This totally makes my day. This, among many other things, like a DA who’d recently left his job to start a private practice (see 6-30-05 post, “Geezers“) emailing me to grab people and have lunch w/him tomorrow; a phone call I made in which the recipient greeted me with “Hi beautiful.” Anticipating gymming at lunchtime today with my trainee.

Oh yeah. There’s a DA I hang out w/here and there whom I expect to run into at the gym today. At least yesterday, when we spoke after work, he said he’d be there. The ex-DA who emailed me to hang out said he wants to “slap him across the back of the head and tell him to snap out of his funk”, and I responded, “I can do it for you! I’ll probably run into him at the gym today. I’ll just come up behind him and wap him upside the head with a dumbbell and say, ‘THAT one’s for MIKE!’ ” Mike responded, “Do it, Baby!”

Here’s to lawsuits for Negligence and charges for Assault & Battery and Conspiracy.

PS – I didn’t go to sleep until almost 2am. So I still only got 5 hours of sleep. Haha.

Here’s an anomaly. It’s shortly before 11:30p on a weeknight. I’m showered, face off, eyeballs out. I’m actually ready for bed, watching “Friends,” lying on my stomach over my bed w/my laptop.

This is because I was told earlier to get in the shower and do my bedtime routine so that I could actually sleep thru the nite instead of falling asleep in front of the TV from exhaustion, then waking up at 2:30a to clean up, shower, and then being unable to fall back asleep until 4 or 5a. I followed the instruction, tho I wasn’t even threatened. I mean, I even said, “…or…?” He said, “There’s no ‘or.’ You’re getting into a bad habit and I worry about you.” That’s all it took. Weird, huh? I actually found it endearing.

Will & Grace is now on. I’m not sure if I’m gonna be able to fall asleep at a decent hour, but I must say, I like this. I feel less guilty. Now the only thing I’m feeling angry and guilty about is the state of my house and laundry.

Please refer to new page “About Cindy Questionnaire” under the “Pages” section at the right bar. =)

My bailiff’s been busy researching rental cars for his 18 yr-old son, who a couple weeks ago was involved in a car accident that totalled his car. Yesterday, my court reporter’s daughters were also involved in a bad car accident that resulted in bruising and stitches on the daughter driving, which accident also totalled the car, and the daughter was an inch or so away from possible death the way her driver’s side door was pounded inward. Both accidents involved my staff’s kids being t-boned in an intersection.

It just goes to show what a virtue patience is. Pulling out 5 seconds later isn’t going to make much of a difference in your day, but pulling out 5 seconds early may kill you.

They’re all now dealing with huge expense, transportation issues, insurance issues, and possible legal ramifications. I bet everyone wishes they had just waited a bit more patiently, gone a bit more slowly.

I was just filling out one of those forwarded email survey questionnaires and one question asked me to name my favorite dessert. I have so many favorite desserts, and I thought about the creme brulee we ordered at the UVA Bar last nite. And then it hit me. The menu said it was a vanilla chocolate swirl creme brulee, which is what fascinated me so much because I wanted to see how they did dual-flavor swirl. There was no chocolate! There was no swirl! It was just your usual vanilla creme brulee with the caramelized sugar cap with a sliced strawberry and a mint sprig for garnish.

I have never had anything negative to say about this place before, but now, I was MISLED!

The only remedy, of course, is to start my search for an actual swirl creme brulee as soon as possible, eating all creme brulees in my path until I find the right one to balance out not having my expectations met.

I just had one of my best weekday evenings ever!

After work I coerced my friend to join me at Downtown Disney for a bite at Restaurant Catal’s outdoor UVA Bar. They really have foolproof food and drink, and I had the best Sexy Alligator I’d ever tasted (he had a lethal martini that appeared to consist only of ethyl alcohol and 2 olives), and we shared a sort of prawn ceviche soup; penne pasta in marinara, mozzarella & basil; and a rare seared Ahi tuna salad w/couscous, baked pita flakes and hummus.

After eating we wandered around Downtown Disney. He dragged me into Illuminations (I didn’t push him to go in because my experience w/men is that they don’t appreciate a store w/pretty candle setups and usually complain about the intermingled candle scents and wait for me outside), I dragged him into Basin (a unique bath products store) and introduced him to bath fizzy bombs, he dragged me into Disneyland Hotel where I finally saw the gargantuan fireplace in the open lobby that my bailiff has raved about, and we left our noseprints, handprints and drool marks on the large window of a chocolate shop after watching one of the chocolateers dip 3 giant marshmallows on a stick into caramel, chocolate, then nuts. I had to be dragged AWAY from that store, and I’m glad now I was.

As we walked back to the parking lot, we happened to catch Disneyland’s fireworks show (early show at 8p!), and my friend dropped his tailgate, wrapped me in a blanket, and we watched the show from the edge of his big truck w/an unobstructed, perfectly angled view. It’s amazing what they can do w/pyrotechnics now — lit particles that had their own life and shot off in changing angles after the main explosion; explosions that spread out and formed hearts, stars, happy faces, 3-D cubes. We made it out of the parking lot w/5 minutes to spare on our 3-hr free parking.

What I love about hanging out w/this guy is the easy laughter (not just the polite “heh heh� chuckle, but gales of laughter that has us doubled over in stitches), his inquisitive nature, his genuine interest in learning about and trying things new to him, and wow, he articulates what I’m thinking. It’s kind of like, “So this is what I’d be like if I had a leg missing from my second X chromosome.� Except white. And with drastically different life choices growing up. And he’s a lot more easy-going than me. And has more life experience. Okay, so maybe not, but I enjoy our similarities and the differences we each bring to the table when we’re together.

I just discovered the same thing in 2 people in my past.

Don’t you just love it when you find out that you were right, things will never change, never improve, and it reaffirms your decision to cut your losses? There’s always that little doubt, “What if I made a mistake? What if, had I just waited a bit longer, it would’ve fixed itself?”

It wasn’t right for me then, it isn’t right for me now. Things went in a full circle and these people are exactly the same. People really don’t change, flaws, delusions and all.

I think I’m ready to change my “About the site” description now. When “Wilco” set up the blog, he used the description “living in cindy’s world.” At some point, I had realized that a better description, the way the blog was going, was “chronicling the struggle for strength, independence and personal satisfaction post-heartbreak” and changed it to that. I think it may have been toward the end of July or beginning of August. Right now, that just doesn’t feel right. So I’m gonna change it again.

finding my niche and leaving my handprint. In literature and in the lives of people. At least, that’s the dream.

My coworker and I have started this little game. Last Tuesday, I entered my courtroom to find a Hawaiian flower resting on my keyboard. I was gonna top it by leaving 2 wallet-sized “modeling” photos of me at age 21 (2 outfits he said were his “favorites” out of the tons of shots I took in that photoshoot and showed him for amusement purposes) in his desk drawer, and then calling him and saying something like, “Hey, I hear you’re a pervert and have photos of little 21 yr old girls in your drawer.” Unfortunately, he was there when I snuck up there so I just handed him the photos. =P Failed topper.

Today, when I walked in, on my desk were two gummy bloodshot EYEBALLS (one green, one blue) with the note “MY SMILIN’ EYES… ONLY THEY ARE TIRED…And different colors. : )” Who puts dismembered EYEBALLS on a desk? I got a good laugh, and vowed to top that one. My wheels in the brain are turning on their rusty axels.

When I lived with my friend Brian for 6 months in 2003, he and I had this “hide-the-alien” game. I have a foot-tall inflatable silver alien that’s positioned to hug things, like a koala bear. He and I had opposite work schedules, so we’d each arrive home and find the alien in a different spot of ours and rehide it in a spot of theirs. He placed the alien so that only his silver head popped up in the midst of my stuffed animals. I put it under his comforter and pillow so that when he pulled it back at nite, an alien squeaked at him. He put it hugging my TV antenna in my bedroom. I put it hugging his jacket arm in his closet. He put it hanging off the caddy in my shower. I deflated it and put it inside his bathroom medicine cabinet. I’d wanted to drain the water from the toilet and place it inside so that when he lifted the lid and the seat (we keep both down because my cat would drink toilet water otherwise), he’d be looking at an alien. But I was afraid he’d use the bathroom in a groggy state in the middle of the night and do something to it that would cause me to throw it away and deal with it nevermore.