cindy's world

Life’s got a funny way of putting you in your place. Just when you’re conceited enough to think you’ve got it all figured out, it gives you something that is half, or technically, what you asked for and yet doesn’t have the fundamentals you’d expected. It’s like the cliche genie wish-granting. But I get it. And I accept it with a laugh.

I may have to scrap my dealbreaker list and re-evaluate my priorities.

Our jury began deliberation minutes before the noon hour, so I was happy that I could make it to the gym for my lunchtime workout. I even called my trainee to tell her I was going to a different gym that was closer so that I could get a longer run in. And then on my walk out of the courthouse, I ran into a bunch of DAs I used to hang out after work with, whom I hadn’t hung out w/in awhile, and it didn’t take much to convince me to have lunch with these 8 very fun DAs.

We went to BJs in Cerritos (I know, I know! It wasn’t my idea. I laughed at the irony myself). The food took 40 minutes to arrive. I was getting a bit nervous, but since my jury’s deliberating, all they’d need me for at 1:30p is to unlock the exhibit closet door so that my bailiff can bring them their exhibits. I called the courtroom. No answer. I called the clerk next door and asked them to help get the exhibits to my bailiff, and they agreed. And then in the car on the way back, a DA in front of me gave his cell phone to the DA next to him, who happens to be our trial DA. I overheard, “Here, take this call. [DA I was hanging w/last nite]’s all upset about having to cover for you on your trial.”
From the back of the minivan: “WHAT?! What ABOUT the trial?!” That’s my shrill voice.
I started calling the courtroom. The phone just kept ringing. Damn it, bailiff not picking up the phone again. The DAs in the minivan were thinking that it’s a prank. We called the office of the DA who’s supposedly covering to see if he’s at his desk and if so, we got them. But no, he wasn’t at his desk.
Another 10 minutes or so go by. My bailiff calls me on my cell from the courtroom. Another judge is borrowing our courtroom to do a convoluted sentencing on a multiple-count child molestation case and they want me to clerk it, “…and everybody’s lookin’ for you!” he concluded. WTF?! The one time I’m this late from lunch (about half an hour as it was), cuz I usually go to the gym or stay in, and some skewball like THIS changes course on a cross-breeze and hits me upside the head like that.
When I walked in, they were all waiting for me. It was the most uncomfortable thing ever, and it was an awful, complicated, difficult sentence to enter/process and it wasn’t even my case!!

But you know what? Lunch was GREAT. I love those people. All the conversation, laughter, mockery, etc. were worth it.

On my way out of work yesterday, I accepted an invitation from a DA whom I’m pretty good friends with to go with him to Taps Brewery in Brea and hang out w/him and some Whittier Sheriffs. “Sure, I’ve got nothin’ goin’ on,” I said. This DA and I had been saying for awhile now that we need to hang out and catch up, but haven’t had the opportunity.

We sat in the outdoors patio at Taps and I had a Georgia Peach. Tasted watered down. Anyway, these cops turned out to be the really guys’-guy type of men and being the only female among them, I was once again zapped back to the days of yore when I’d hung out w/my ex and his “boys” at the bar at Friday’s, when I had to put on the aloof, witty, non-offendable chick persona to hang w/them as they sucked down beers and got increasingly more crass.

That’s a rusty hat. I was able to force it upon my head and pull it off, but it’d been awhile since I had to act so open and simultaneously recoil myself so far within. It’s “safe” mode, but it requires active forethought and monitoring of the impression and identity I’m throwing out. Of course I had to balance it out with a private, sincere and “real” conversation with my DA buddy after we left Taps.

I’d wondered before whether my ex and I were still connected on that non-physical plane. If I’m down, does that mean he’s high? If I’m high, is he sick? If I feel him, does that mean he’s thinking of me? If he’d been somewhere, would I recognize it? Turns out, yes to all. I wonder if this connection will ever rupture. In the least, it’s disruptive to my peace, and it certainly did not bring him what he wanted — closure. I explained to him tonite that I no longer need closure. I no longer need the whys and hows. Just knowing what is or was, was all the answers I would ever need to know.

Coming out of the gym 45 mins ago, I ran into the floor manager there who stopped me to chat. We have a bit of a history; I used to think he was cute when he was a personal trainer and then we started talking and he wanted to hang out. I was fine with it as long as it was on a friendly basis. The guy was an octopus and I found him such a social spaz that I stopped contact with him altogether and stopped going to that gym. Now that I’m training my coworker at the gym and she doesn’t have membership to the other gym I had been going to at lunch, I’m back to dealing w/him. He again asked for another shot, having complimented me to death that I’m “hot.” (In my rat-shit look.) I said I’m dealing with too much as it is to handle anything other than friendship. He was agreeable, and I said, “Wait. As long as ‘hanging out as friends’ isn’t the same ‘hanging out as friends’ as you handled it last time.” He said, “No, I learned my lesson from last time!” Maybe this isn’t a good idea at all, but I don’t want to be a bitch to him because to train my coworker, I’m gonna have to be at that gym A LOT now. Maybe I’ll just let him and this other guy who works at the gym who started following me around and talking to me yesterday (and again did so today) duke it out.

As of 11:45 a.m. this morning, “Wilco” put up a hit counter for me, just for my curiosity, so I get to see how many hits I have on my site as of that time. Thanks, Wilco! Let’s see…97 visitors in the last 2 hours. (It’s on the right under the last sidebar box.)

I don’t even know why this information has any importance. Curiosity kills cats, so it’s a good thing I’ve got 9 lives.

The look today is best described as “rat-shit.” Didn’t do my hair, eyes are back to “shit-brown.” I decided to give them a break since the colored contacts have been overworn. After I did my face, I gave my overall look a once-over and thought, Good gawd, I really do need more beauty sleep, cuz beauty ain’t one of my descriptors right now. I even got home at a decent hour last nite, barely past 11:30p, and I was up till after 3a unloading on Mike and Jimmy via IM. Mike, like many before him, advised me to not overthink things and get some sleep. Strange thing is, of all the overthinking I can be doing, it is so against my nature that I am presently thinking so little and just going with the flow, and life has been wonderful.

I dreamt this morning I was in a partnered dance competition, and as I stood in my partner’s arms preparing to start, I realized I did not know the routine. I think I began to improvise, and then simply closed my eyes and let my partner lead. It was something to let go of my senses and thoughts and simply trust him to guide me and protect me, and as I swirled in his dance, I was safe.

No pretensions
No drama
Laughter
Understanding
Consideration
Strength where I am weak
Appreciation where I am strong
No judgment
Full effort
Communication
Eagerness to learn more
Patience
Generosity
Supportiveness
Ease
Simplicity despite complications
Inspiration
…this is who you are to me.

I have been so spoiled lately. I love being a girl. I’m not a feminist at all. I like old-fashioned gender-related courtesy. I love my friends surprising me by going out of their way for me, a green tea frapp w/ boba here, a grilled chicken and Spanish rice lunch delivered to my courtroom there. A phone call informing me of a great laptop deal, a comforting hug, compliments and acknowledgment of my hard work.

Is this the good karma that’s balancing out the bad experiences before?

I was outside in the hallway doing rollcall of our 60 prospective jurors. There were a few who had not yet arrived, but they weren’t that late as I had gone out a bit early to call roll. I went into my explanation of why punctuality in jury selection is important, and was interrupted by a young woman in stripey highlighted hair and a tight pink t-shirt that highlighted her fat rolls, who walked right up to my face way into my personal space while I was in mid-sentence, and said she just got here. I asked for her last name to check her off the list. She then pointed to the courtroom doors behind me and asked, “Should I go in?” I was so irked by this idiocy that I said nonchalantly, “No, everyone’s still out here,” gestured briefly around me. Duh. Over 50 other jurors around us, all wearing Juror ID badges. I didn’t pause or use any inflection to make her feel stupid, I just did my notation on my jury list, and I was happy to hear some of the jurors around me chuckle at her.

Okay, that was mean, but I did tone it down, and I have little patience for stupid questions.