cindy's world

I just finished printing out my last corrected minute order from yesterday’s calendar. The stack of minute orders that need to replace the ones in the files will just have to go on my supervisor’s desk. I’d already told him about this and he was very supportive, told me we have people who can take care of that busy work for me, just get the calendar entered. Another stack of minute orders to replace the microfilm ones. And today’s calendar is finally done, too.

Thanks, everybody, for your patience and sympathy, emails and calls. Thomas, thanks for being so understanding and dismissive about my sailor cussing and snapping at you; Tim, thanks for calling me and “apologizing” for the day I had when you read my blog. I don’t know how you do it. Talk about newfound appreciation, geesh.

I’m finally going home. 8pm on a Friday nite; I hadn’t eaten all day but now I think I lost my appetite; I was cold but I think the stress evened it out. I feel disoriented, achy and my vision is blurred. Maybe I’ll go home and order a pizza from Five Alarm or Three Alarm or whatever. (Numbers don’t stick with me. I’m an English major.) Perfect day for a hot bath.

BGNJ,JGBNJ FBN,FJJG

The computer system in this family law department was not properly configured for outside users and therefore all the minute orders I had to create in the stupid program did not contain the proper headers. I had to manually type in all the headers and footers that contain the partys’ information, case name, date, staff names, etc.

I just realized that the CASE NUMBERS aren’t automatically coming up, either. None of the minute orders I did yesterday, nor the ones I’ve done so far today, have case numbers on them.

Good God. I have to redo all those minute orders, pull the microfilm copies from the supervisor’s office and replace them, pull each individual file and replace the file copies of the minute orders (and who knows where the files are now, they already left me for various distribution).

I wish I had been called in for jury duty this week.

Work is so. bad. today.

I already called the regular bailiff in here (who’s not here today) and told him that I hate him for not being here to help me. Twice.

There are just too many curve balls thrown at me today in an area of law that I had zero training in.

I am so short-leashed and so cranky and I hate everybody and everything.

Add to that, I couldn’t even work out my aggression at lunch because some crazy guy was following me around the gym saying stupid things at me. I won’t even put the conversation on here. I’ll just say he was crazy, and apparently thought he was being interviewed for the position of “boyfriend.” Ugh. UGH!!!

By that, I mean not that I worked out at lunch, which I didn’t, but that the day at work worked out.

I’m pretty proud of myself for figuring the system out, both the courtroom and the computer system.

I also had a lot of fun chatting with the bailiff, courtroom assistant and reporter. It’s a blessing to find people who can make me laugh and whom I can connect with. It’s nice to have friends around me.

So now I have to hit the gym after work for at least 2 hours to make up for not going to the gym at lunch. *sigh* At least by the time I get out of here (still have 4 restraining order minute orders to complete), the gym will hopefully no longer be crowded.

My supervisor already pre-apologized to me for putting me back in here tomorrow. Unfortunately, the regular bailiff will be off tomorrow so I don’t know who I’ll have in here. The calendar’s bigger than today’s, and I won’t get as much help with a relief bailiff, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed. But first I gotta check to see if my group got called in for jury service…phone’s ringing right now…recorded message has started…service is not needed and service is complete! Well, that was easy. I have mixed feelings about this, tho… I almost rather do jury duty than another day in family law listening to these people’s drama.

My judge is at a dude ranch right now with his family on vacation, so I’m manning another courtroom which is presently engaged in a robbery jury trial. The clerk who’s normally in this courtroom took the day off to go to the Ford dealership to pick up her new 2005 Mustang Saleen.

A girl walked in with a motion that needed to be filed next door, so I instructed the bailiff to direct her there. She left, and a few minutes later the relief clerk next door came into the courtroom with her papers to reaffirm that it’s supposed to be in that department, and I explained it to him. Then he asked, “Did you go to Diamond Bar High School?” I looked up at him in surprise. “Yes…” I racked my brain for who this relief clerk was in high school; he looked a bit older than me. He then explained that the girl with the motion had asked him to find out because she had recognized me.

I had no idea who the girl was because, as usual, I made no eye contact with strangers. After learning from the relief clerk that she was still in his courtroom, I walked over, looked her square in the face and… did not recognize her. She greeted me warmly. I said, “I’m sorry…” and she took the hint and told me her name. Cathy. Oh my gosh! Is that what a little eyelid surgery does for Korean girls? She looks so cute! She and I didn’t hang out directly, but we had a lot of common friends and we would often be at the same event. I think she was even my tennis partner in PE at one point. We caught up on our common friends, I broke the news to her about Grace’s passing, and complimented each other on how we look now. Heh. I guess she changed more after HS than I did, altho she said she wasn’t totally sure it was me.

The jury came back before lunch with 15 guilty Lewd Act Upon a Child Under Age 14 verdicts on our trial. It took me over 20 minutes to read the verdicts into the record. Because they also found true the allegations that there were multiple victims at the time the crimes were committed, the defendant is now facing a maximum sentence of fifteen 15-yrs-to-life sentences, or 225 years to life in state prison. In common language, the defendant needs to serve 225 years in state prison before he even becomes eligible for parole. He’s 37.

This is what working in a criminal courtroom and seeing these cases does to my humor. In a discussion about this case, I said to a bailiff earlier, “That’s pretty convenient for the defendant. He’s probably just sittin’ there one day, thinking, ‘I want more sex. I know! I’ll just make 2 daughters and get another goddaughter, and that way, when they get older, I can have sex with them!’ ” They warned us in training that criminal clerks develop a dark sense of humor to survive in that environment.

They were wrong.

We just had a 10 minute break in our trial, and the defense attorney and I got into a conversation about dating. He told me about a girlfriend he had long ago; the relationship was cut short when she was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. We discussed the mentality of these jealous stalkerish murderous exes.

“The moral of all this, of course, is that men suck,” I concluded matter-of-factly.
“What? Not all men! I have single male friends who are wonderful people,” said the attorney.
“Yeah? Then why are they still single?” I challenged.
“Well, by the same token, I can ask why you’re still single.” Typical attorney talk.
“Because men suck!” It’s a simple concept to me!

…in retrospect, I should’ve gone for the shock value answer. “Because the State of California won’t legalize same-sex marriages!” would’ve been a good choice.

The A/C at work is ridiculous! They let us decide how long to put a man in prison for, but they won’t let us decide what temperature the courtroom should be. The result is we’re at the mercy of the unpredictable air conditioning. Each floor’s different, each courtroom’s different, and most of them are extreme.

I can literally hear the air blowing all morning. It’s like I’m sitting in a blizzard, except I’m in heels, a skirt and short sleeves. I told my reporter just now, “It’s freezing! If there were a baby white seal in here right now, I’d club it and make myself a fur coat.”
My vegetarian reporter whimpered, “Oh! Cindy! Take that back!”
I looked at her pained expression. “Okay, I wouldn’t. I’d hug it for body heat.”
“That’s better!”

So I’m sitting at work going thru the 3rd full day of jury selection on this case, which is unusual enough in itself to distract me from the fact that I have not received ANY emails today, when normally my inbox is rampant with activity. I wrote myself an email from an outside source just to test. No receipt. The server’s down again. I feel so alone…

(See 8-20-05 entry, “Friday, and the Promise of Good Things.”)
Brad thought it would be a cakewalk to get his DUI charges dropped, until the surprise witness walked in the door.

We all know “who dunnit.”

Me, Brad & Val reconciled after I took Brad’s bribe and only imposed a sentence of having to take us out to dim sum on Sunday.

I don’t like it when photos are taken by people taller than the subject. We look unproportionally midgety. (I forwarded this photo to the judge. He phoned me from chambers and said in a mock-stern voice, “Ms. [my last name], a photo shows you standing in my well.” I forgot about the evidence of us being in the forbidden space, but hey, it’s my bailiff’s job to keep people out and posing us in the well was HIS idea!)