cindy's world

A discussion about a particular pharmaceutical drug came up in jujitsu yesterday. The girl I was talking to, Gloria, was surprised that I didn’t even take aspirin unless I was febrile and deliriously writhing in pain spitting up blood on the floor. She said she’s a walking pharmacy. She described her severe acid reflux problems. And then another girl, Barbara, joined our conversation (I know what you’re thinking…we were not goofing off, we were in line to get tossed around by 5 people in a ring) and she said she was cramping hard on her lower abs from our 800 crunches because she’d had a caesarian when she had her kid years ago and her abs just aren’t the same. Barbara then asked if we noticed how a green belt girl, Dora, across the room from us was in pain throughout the 800 leg lifts. We hadn’t, and I asked what was wrong with her legs. I was informed that Dora has a bone disease which weakens her bones and I guess she’s pretty frequently in pain from overexertion. I suddenly remembered that in the less advanced class yesterday, I saw Josh on the outskirts of the mat hurriedly administering an asthma inhaler.

It hadn’t occurred to me that so many people who do so well in the class have physical restrictions. I think about myself. Even tho I’m older than a lot of people in the class (this greenbelt named Jackie complained that at their last tournament in Arizona, she couldn’t go anywhere after a certain time because she wasn’t old enough to get into bars), I really have no physical ailments to complain about. There should be nothing holding me back except laziness. My body is receptive to conditioning — although not to weight loss — so I should take advantage of it, even at my age, right? The mental strength of the people around me is inspiring.

The class yesterday was great. I hadn’t attended the more advanced class since the summer session. There’s such a difference. After a more grueling warmup and conditioning hour, we hit the defensive exercises. The instructor calls it “five corners”, in which you’re in the middle and surrounded by 5 people who are going to attack you in 5 different ways, one after the other after the other. So the first comes at you with a right punch, which you parry, get in close for a grab around the chest, and kick their leg out from behind like a trip. The second is a knife attack, so you use their momentum and swing their arm around in an arc so that they stab their leg, and you simultaneously trip their knee out as you disarm them. The third is someone coming at you like he’s rushing you, so you do a stop on their foot with yours as you turn their upper body into the stopped leg by pushing with one hand and pulling with the other, and they fall on their side. The fourth is coming at you with another punch, and you run through them with an arm extended like a clothesline and hit their lower back so their feet fly forward and their body, with the sudden stop in momentum, falls back. The fifth attacks you with a bear hold from behind, and you step around them and do a sweep with the arms so that they fall backwards over your extended leg like a windmill panel. When you’re done being attacked, you take the place of the first attacker and then everyone rotates one. I hit hard and I fell hard. It was fun.

With the new year, I’m going to attend all sessions of jujitsu — 4 days a week, 2 hours per session from 6:30p -8:30p —

*** INTERRUPTION *** My bailiff JUST told me he’d recently found out that law enforcement (all branches) has a website in which single (or married and player, which is more likely) law enforcement officers can post a dating profile and women can shop for someone online like a dating service. It’s called something like “date a hero dot com.” My reporter and my reaction after looking at each other: “Oh, gawd. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I turned to my bailiff and said, “Like you guys need something else to help your egos along!” *** END OF INTERRUPTION ***

and I’m still going to hit the gym at lunchtime. I’m also adding running back into the mix. I can’t hit the weights as hard as I used to, one because my conditioning isn’t there anymore, but two because I’m still training my coworker (who is improving her abilities and physique by leaps and bounds), but I figure the extra cardio and martial arts will make up for the lack of weightlifting. Running will keep the muscles off, anyway, and I don’t want to be overly hefty and sacrifice flexibility and speed in jujitsu.

Hopefully this more rigorous workout regimen will afford me the weekly Tuesday lunches with my current and retired coworkers, and the Friday evening happy hours. And since I’m gonna be home more, maybe the house can be better kept, as with the feline roommate.

Hey, I’m not sore! Saturday afternoon during “camping,” we went on a very hilly (estimated 4 miles) hike. The hike was difficult for me because my hamstrings were sore from my Friday weightlifting, I was on medication that warned of drowsiness, and it was the part of my cycle when I’m normally fatigued. Mr. W warned me that I’d be sore for days. I wasn’t sore Sunday, and today, I’ve completely recovered from even the Friday weights soreness. That means I can kick serious butt in jujitsu today. Yay! (Yeah, right. They’re not gonna let us throw beginners.)

Kaiser was as efficient as it could’ve been, except for the waiting. I went from the main waiting room to the lab to the waiting room to see the RNP to the pharmacy, and that took from 6:45p to almost 9:30p. The RNP, after talking to me and examining the results of the lab test, asked whether I wear thongs. I said those and g-strings are my staple underwear. She told me to stop wearing them for 6 weeks. WHAT?! She said, “I know, I know, the underwear line thing. My husband would even stop and whisper to me, ‘Hey, you can see that woman’s underwear lines!’ But before thongs became popular, we had 10% of the infections we do now. Ten percent!” Wow. I didn’t know the two were correlated, but you can’t argue those stats. So that’s my public service announcement for today, girls. If you get recurring UTIs and you’re doing everything else right, reduce the thong wear. 🙁 I personally would rather go commando than show underwear lines. Oh, that reminds me. She also advised to go to bed at night sans underwear. If you choose to wear underwear, choose something with at least a cotton crotch, if not completely cotton everywhere else.

I chatted on the cell w/college roommie Diana while I was in the large overpacked waiting room. “Wow,” she said, “Why’re there so many people? Is everyone just sick with the flu or something?”
“I don’t know what they’re sick with,” I grumbled, “looks like chromosomal defects.”
Later, I called Mr. W while I was waiting at the Kaiser pharmacy. He asked if I was playing pat-a-cake with a bunch of children. “I know! If I have to stand in a long, slow, winding line with a ton of screaming children, there should at least be a ride at the end of it.” A woman in line behind me let her child scream at the top of his lungs for what felt like forever instead of handing him off to her husband and/or teenage kid to take elsewhere. HMOs in low-income areas…sigh.

I discovered in the wee hours of the morning that the pain becomes manageable if I curl up in a tight ball, hugging my knees, and remain upright. So I rearranged the pillows on my bed so that I could sorta sit and lean sideways and finally get some rest. I woke up with a start with the morning light streaming in through the windows, and my alarm clock, which had not gone off, was flashing 2:40. I’d lost power to the house 2 hours and 40 minutes ago. What the hell time was it? It was a bit past 8:30a. I called my supervisor and left a brief voice mail explaining my tardiness but saying I’m on my way, and clamored to the restroom and brushed my teeth, washed my face, decided to skip the makeup and instead bring my face to work with me in a makeup bag. I figured I’d make an appointment with Kaiser when I got to work.

When I got to my desk, I saw a flat little jewelry envelope sitting unobtrusively between my stapler and hole puncher. Inside is a metallic cookie-cutter type angel ornament that appears to be hand-painted. Definitely more sentimental than impersonally mass-produced. My staff knows nothing of it. I called a couple of coworkers who have left things anonymously on my desk before, and none of them seemed to know what I’m talking about. Who has access to a secure courtroom early in the morning, who would think to do this? I thought it was someone who reads my blog and therefore knows what I’m currently experiencing, and wants to leave a little token of support to tell me that I’ll be fine and that an angel is watching over me.

There is a small metal angel clipped to the upper left edge of my rear-view mirror, which I got after my first and only car accident. A circle around the angel reads, “An angel to watch over you.” I now have a courtroom angel which I will pin up on my desk bulletin. So to whomever left it, if you are a blog reader of mine, thank you for the reminder that things will work out. They do always work out.

I am going to juggle between my courtroom and a specialized courtroom down the hall today. They are very short on clerks again. My appointment is at 6:40pm a couple of miles from work, which will work out nicely because I’m gonna stay after work for the retirement party at a nearby hotel anyway. That way I’ll just leave at 6:20 or so to go to the appointment.

This is TMI (too much information) whining in desperate hope that writing this will ease me psychologically and somehow bring some relief physically.
(more…)

Good Lord! I’m covering 3 courts today, all of which have stuff going on. Thank goodness 2 are next door to each other. And thank goodness I’m on very good terms with these judges that they’re okay with juggling me. I’m exhilarated from the activity. The courtroom I’m in now had a civil Mandatory Settlement Conference that settled its case; a civil Default Prove-up Hearing (sort of like a mini-trial); a criminal probation case where the defendant had to bring in proof that he registered as a sex offender and has signed up for various counseling classes; and presently, a criminal kidnapping/threats/assault/cruelty to a child trial with one of my favorite DAs. And my college roommie DIANA, who’s an attorney, by the way, JUST called my cell phone and I had to chuck my singing purse out the courtroom. Sorry D, I’ll call you later when we’re not in session or something. My courtroom doesn’t have reception so I didn’t expect to have to turn off the cell. I didn’t know this courtroom has, apparently, great reception. Anyway, the courtroom next door had a family law divorce case where they were disputing who gets to keep the house; and a criminal case reviewing a post-sentencing report. My own courtroom has a panicking judge who needs to get his family law trial ruling out and mailed by today. He just got it done and it’s 2:27pm. I’m still waiting for the copies so that I can do my part for the computer records and mailings.

We’re really short on courtroom clerks today. Apparently lots of people called in sick, and people’s parents are dying off and there’re a lot of people on bereavement leave. It seems like at the end of the year, people just drop off the face of the globe and it leaves me wondering why they’re leaving en masse, what they know that I don’t know, while the rest of us are hanging around like a bunch of suckers. I can think of 4 people related to this courthouse or this court’s employees who died this December already. Another coworker’s dad is hanging at the brink in the hospital, we’re dreading getting the phone call at any moment.

Well, I still got to hit the gym at lunch today, ran a tough mile at a near-sprint for a warmup and then hit the weights. A friend who was working overtime at the courthouse a couple of weeks ago had asked me as I was leaving at lunchtime whether I was leaving for the gym. I had answered that I was. “All right. Tear it up,” he’d said. I like how that’s put. I like to think I’m tearing it up. Altho to look at the numbers (weight and fat percentage) alone, it’d appear I’m wasting my time.

I had a great little run at lunch today. I tried a new treadmill program called Alpine Pass. The simulated course starts with a flat walk, then increases in speed and incline to hit two long hills, and an eventual cooldown. When the incline is 0 (flat), it’s a brisk jog at 6mph. When the incline is at max (3% grade), the speed slows down to 5.5 mph. The total run including warmup and cooldown was 3.75 miles in 42 minutes. My curls have, for the most part, fallen out of my hair, but it was worth it. I’m feeling good.

Today was one of those weird bipolar days where my diet is concerned. I drove to work inspired and determined to lose weight and make myself hot, came in and had a donut that was provided at our meeting. Right before lunch, because my bailiff was telling me a story, I figured I may as well fortify myself for my noon run, so I ate another donut as I listened to him. And then I did a 3-mile run, got a good sweat, felt really good. Again, I wanted to be hot and, like, wear a black leather outfit so tight that I look like a cross between Halle Berry’s “Catwoman” and Malibu Barbie. I came back, worked through our trial and had another donut.

I’m gonna try to skip dinner tonite. Or just have an apple or something. =P But the way this day is going, I’m probably gonna have dinner anyway, and it’ll likely be a donut.

This post probably moved Wilco to tears.

What begins with a funeral, ends with a party, and has lots of hard work in-between? No, it’s not the way a dyslexic person describes his life. It’s…today!

I got in to work early to meet up with my judge and court reporter, and the judge drove us to my bailiff’s mother’s funeral. It was a nice little service. My bailiff, whom we hadn’t seen for the past week due to his bereavement leave, had his back turned looking into the coffin with his arm around his sister when we walked into the chapel. Then the service began, and he never saw us, because we had to leave early to come resume our criminal trial. It was nice to see that there were so many people there that he wouldn’t have missed us. I recognized his daughter and his brother from photos he’d shown us.

At lunch, I left to go run 4 miles at the gym. Lately, altho I tell people “I’m gonna hit 4 miles today” when they ask where I’m going, I don’t really believe myself. I figure that’s just the tentative plan, but that I’d likely modify it when my athletic abilities don’t allow for the optimism. Surprisingly, I ran 4 miles without any overexertion at 5.8 mph (a bit over 41 mins), then did a lap and a half cool-down jog-walk. Without my MP3 player. I guess my court reporter was right. Sometimes you have an “off” day (like Monday), and sometimes you have an “on” day. I’m glad I took advantage of my “on” day. She, on the other hand, I caught yawning while doing arm curls. She’s “off” today and hated every moment of her workout, but in the end, no matter how much your brain resents the process, your body still got the benefits of a workout in.

Tonight, Mr. W’s buddy is spinning (or maybe just DJ-ing, I’m not sure) at some beach town club. I don’t remember what city he said it’s in. But we’re gonna go represent. The location’s supposed to be just casual dress, but casual in a club is not the same casual at a BBQ, so I have no idea what to wear. Especially since it rained earlier, so looking skanky has its price. Har. On the other hand, I really should wear the stuff I can get away with wearing now, before my body ages and my skin puckers and my parts sag and support becomes not just an option, but mandatory if I don’t want to trip over mammary glands.