cindy's world

On top of everything that’s going wrong to delay me, I wrote out this big entry about it and instead of publishing it, the browser went to “site not found” and LOST THE ENTRY! DAMN IT.

I badly need to leave work early today to rush home, feed/water my cat for the weekend, grab my luggage, and dash through massive traffic to Dwaine’s house so he could get us both to the airport on time this evening. Dwaine had spontaneously decided to go to Arizona for the weekend, and his flight leaves 45 mins after mine. The civil trial we have going on right now was supposed to be done by noon today, so things were supposed to line up perfectly.

So of course that’s not what happens. Our sentencing this morning had a wrinkle come up: a guy convicted by our jury of raping his daughter was sentenced by our judge this morning to 25 years in state prison plus 25 years to life. The “25 years to life” part was due to a special allegation that adds 25 years to life if the guy had a prior conviction of the same crime (i.e. repeat offender who clearly can’t help himself from molesting kids), which he did; he’d molested his daughter’s friend years before and was convicted in Orange County of that crime. So anyway, now the question is, does this “25 years to life” addition apply just once to the entire sentence, which is what we did this morning to get 25 years plus 25-life, or does it apply for each of the 3 counts he was convicted on, which would bring his sentence to 25 years plus 25-life plus 25-life plus 25-life? Both the judge and the DA are researching this right now, and I’ve called the defense attorney and left him a voice mail. I can’t do the commitment paperwork to send this guy to state prison because his sentence may change, but they need SOMETHING to send him off before the end of the day. Obviously I still need to do the sentencing minute order in the computer which is getting more complicated by the minute. And of course we can’t address it right away because we’re stuck doing this stupid civil court trial where people are fighting over a house.

Which brings me to the other reason I’m working through lunch right now instead of doing a nice long run like I’d planned to. I gotta figure out what these 20 paper exhibits are that the defense just introduced, and log their descriptions into my exhibit list and minute order.

ARGH, I better not miss my flight. Things like this always seem to happen when I need to get somewhere by a certain time after work.

I never know quite what to say when someone whose intelligence I trust (and Mensa apparently thinks he’s member quality, too), in an email conversation with me, responds to a long thing I wrote with:

After years of study, I’ve concluded that cute young women have brain damage.

Err, ow? Thanks? What?

It’s funny that the Chinese tout harmonic balance and yin yang and Taoist internal peace and Confucius’s calm wisdom, and yet we have to deal with the Asian Fatalist Gene. It’s like the Catholic religion honoring virginity and disinheriting man’s built-in desire for pleasures of the flesh. Maybe it can’t be done. Maybe we’re gonna be drama queens. And they’re going to have sex/kids out of wedlock or be interested in young altar boys. Maybe it is inherent that we as homo sapien fight for what we don’t have naturally. Curly-haired people want straight hair. Straight-haired people want curls. Maybe that IS yin yang, to have both sides of the coin in dual existence, juxtaposed and seemingly contradictory, but somehow not.

I gotta figure out the “somehow not” part.

I was chatting with my court reporter about why it is that people respond to certain things a certain way. She suggested that when we are angry or indignant, it is often because something offended our ego. The ego speaks loudly and is selfish, it is the voice that booms, “How dare you do this to me. You hurt me, now I’m gonna do this to you.” She says to listen to the smaller, calm voice that says, “In the large scheme of things, this isn’t a big deal. I’ll bring up that I would’ve appreciated if you did this or that instead, but I’ll listen to and understand where you’re coming from.” If people focused on how they affect other people instead of being offended by how others affect them, she said, think how much more positive everything would be. Instead of saying, “You didn’t give me this present I wanted, you’re thoughtless,” go out and buy the person a present. Then you wouldn’t even have the time to think about what they should give you, or rather, what your ego feels you’re entitled to that they’re falling short on. “The ego makes us very angry, and when we’re angry, we can’t see the truth. They can tell us a perfectly fine explanation, but you’re so wrapped up in ‘you hurt me’ that you can’t accept what they’re saying. It’s like them throwing a rock into water. If the surface is all rippled, you can’t see anything in the water. But once the surface is calm, everything suddenly becomes clear and you can see inside the water.”

I’d never thought about the ego as a separate entity which has the power to muck things up because of its misguided perceptions. But I agree with her. It seems that often when I’m upset, it’s not so much that they did something to truly injure me, but they’ve offended my ego. If I could keep ego out of it, I can respond much better without the anger. If someone did something malicious to me, I can see the person as toxic and simply remove myself from this person’s life. And if someone does something that’s kind of thoughtless but not bad, I don’t have to be angry because there’s no ego saying that I ought to be offended because their actions must mean this or that.

I hope this line of thinking doesn’t turn me into a doormat.

You know there’s something wrong when I’m driving to work with no time to spare, I have more than half a tank of gas left, and I spontaneously pull into the left turn lane upon seeing a gas station offering $2.99/gal gas. While waiting for the left turn light to turn green so I could go into the station, I realized the gas companies have conditioned me to immediately respond to $2.99 as a deal so good I couldn’t pass up despite not even needing gas, when in fact $2.99 is still preposterous. I was so offended at this thoughtless Pavlov responsiveness in me that I didn’t wait for the light to turn, I pulled back into the flow of traffic and was off. Screw you gas CEOs and your “cheap” gas! You’re not gonna trick me to go over there, I don’t even need gas!

Yeah, I’ll probably stop by there and wait in the long lines on my way home this evening.

As much as I can say that vulnerability is a beautiful and essential part of the true intertwining of hearts, and almost believe it when I’m consoling someone else who is the experiencer of this tender and agonizing vulnerability, the truth is that in myself I see it as a weakness. I am proud when I laugh at someone, turn my back to someone, dismiss someone’s feelings because they do not move me. I find few things more frightening than the point of realization that someone else has access to make me feel and do things involuntarily, because when I’m at this point, I perceive the other person as having more control than me over my own feelings. It is at this point where I feel that I’ve given more emotionally than the other person has, that I miss the other person more than he does me, that I think about him more than he does me, that I love the other person more, and shit, he is more important to me than I am to him. This is only the beginning of what can go wrong. If he means so much to me, I’ll put up with his placing me on low priority, as he will because I’m not as important to him. I will be thinking of him and considering him in my decisions as he makes all his decisions based only on what’s convenient for him and what will make him happy. And I will be sacrificed — not only by him, but by myself — to make him smile. To make him love me the way I do him. How pathetic. I really despise myself when I feel I “need” someone. I don’t want to “need”. Every physical thing in my life is controlled by me and I am completely self-sufficient financially, physically, socially. Why is it so hard to keep my heart sovereign?

Jordan’s blog currently features the music video for Mariah Carey’s old hit “Dreamlover.” It was a pleasant surprise to see that video again and hear the music. I was instantly and joyously taken back to summer 1993, reminiscing about:

* flannel shirts tied up around the waist
* short denim shorts that you roll up the cuffs on to make them even shorter
* wide black belts
* long dangly necklaces, especially crystals on cords
* lots of boys around
* taking summer school with my friends at Diamond Bar High
* my senior year best friend, Eric, dancing to this video at Vicky and Karen’s parents’ house
* discovering and becoming obsessively addicted to BBSing
* carefree walks with friends in hot sunny weather to Thrifty’s and the Wherehouse, laughing on the streets
* dancing the Butterfly
* the days when Mariah was skinny

I think that summer may have been the most feel-good summer of my life.

I just happened to catch Mr. W online, very briefly. He shortly arrived at their accomodations in Alaska. He IMed that they’re at Madame’s Manor, which apparently used to be a brothel, and the cab lady told them that the place is haunted (which I found very cool and instantly interested me). He said he was confused as to the sleeping arrangements. 5 minutes after the conversation began, he said he had to go and disappeared. Curious, I googled Madame’s Manor and found that it’s actually a bed & breakfast. I’d always wanted to stay in one, but I guess Mr. W is gonna be in one without me, with his male friend. Looking at the website, it looks more like a honeymooner’s quaint paradise than the accomodations of 2 guy pals going fishing and sight-seeing in Alaska. The photos of all the rooms that you can book through their site show what appears to be a queen bed, no twins or separate sleeping areas in one room. No wonder they’re confused as to the sleeping arrangements. Yesterday, Mr. W had cracked a joke to me alluding to their trip as “Brokeback Mountain,” and that I would know something’s wrong if they didn’t bring back any fish and the fish container remains unopened and unused, which is how Ennis’ wife in Brokeback Mountain figured out that the two men’s annual fishing trips weren’t as innocent as they sounded — she’d placed a note in Ennis’s fish container asking him to please bring back fish for her and their children, and the note went undiscovered and unread for years. I’d laughed off Mr. W’s reference to Brokeback and joked back that he needs to remember to bring the lube, but looking at this website now, it really puts a different spin on things. =P

I am tracking Mr. W’s flight online. I get on the airline’s web page and go to Flight Status. After entering the flight number, it displayed that his flight took off 9 minutes ahead of schedule, and that its ETA (estimated time of arrival) is 10 minutes earlier than scheduled. I click on the ETA link and it gives me a real-time diagram/map of the flight route, and a plane drawing of where his flight currently is, with the status that he is currently going at a speed of 430 knots, with an altitude of 40,000 feet.

The internet is SO cool.

I just enrolled in belly dancing over the phone! Yay! The course description reads:

Feel alive and happy. Have fun body toning in a feminine way! Bless the goddess within. Belly dancing helps to develop grace, rhythm, poise and fitness. Choreography, veil work, and hip patterns are all part of the class. Wear comfortable clothing to class.

“Veil work.” How interesting! I can’t wait! First class is next Wednesday. It’s not one of my goals to take on a dancing class before I’m 30, but maybe I’ll use that to replace surfing. I’d been itching for the past several months to do some kind of performance arts.