On the jury trial menu this week--a new twist on the famous diet. Our spokesperson? A 3-time loser who left his toddler in the car at Subway with the windows open and the keys inside. Lost at least 20 pounds right there. How can I get on this new fad diet you ask? Well, instead of ordering a tasty sandwich, you lock yourself in the bathroom, shoot up some crank; then crawl into the ceiling when you hear the cops looking for the parents of the child you left in the car. Cued by the rave-inspired strobe effect of the cop's flashlight, you take a brisk aerobic spin around the ceiling tiles until you come crashing down into the manager's office. Check your heart rate. Not high enough? A nice dive through the plate glass window should get you right into your fat-burning zone. Once the police have you cuffed you can still diminish yourself further by looking at your crying child and telling the cops, "That ain't my kid."
Made it back from New Orleans last night...just in time to escape the absolute pandemonium that was beginning. It was a very good trip, though. We got all that needed to be done on the case wrapped up and then spent the rest of the time wandering around the French Quarter with all the other turistas. My brain's still not functioning well enough to coherently piece everything together so I'm resorting to the list of highlights.
1. Got called "honey" and "sweetie" by almost everyone I spoke to...and didn't mind it at all.
2. Lit a candle for my grandmother in St. Louis Cathedral.
3. Had the obligatory one-sided (they talk, I nod my head) conversations with the freaks sitting next to me on the plane (I attract those sorts when I travel and am usually too polite to tell them to fuck off...I'm convinced, however, that businessmen belong to a secret society of the most perverted humans on the planet.)
4. Wandered through old cemeteries.
5. Talked to a guy who paints tits & asses on Bourbon Street for a living.
6. Met a nice pagan boy and left him smitten.
7. Caroused with some of New Orleans' Finest.
8. Graciously fended off drunken dickheads of varying degrees.
9. Harvested a bunch of Mardi Gras beads, whooped and hollered with all the parade-goers.
10. Decided against having my tarot cards read, but purchased a new set for myself.
11. Got to bed at a semi-decent hour almost every night.
12. Drank lots of good coffee and ate lots of good food.
13. Let my hair kink and curl in the humidity with no apologies.
14. Admired all the Goth kids in their self-conscious attempts at casual finery. Something poignantly sweet about that--trying so hard to look like you're not trying.
15. Smelled the flowers.
16. Missed my babies.

It was really a wonderful trip, aside from the business part of it. I am glad to be home and looking forward to napping with my kids for the rest of the weekend.
Getting ready for a trip to New Orleans next week to interview some witnesses for a sexual assault on a child case...actually on multiple children, but this is the beginning of my preparation for trial. Love, love, love New Orleans! Even though it's going to be pretty much all business, just being there will be great. I spent most of my adolescence in Louisiana, so I always have this feeling of homecoming anytime I go there. But the main reason I love it so much can be summed up in one word: CRAWFISH. : )
catelin: (Default)
( Jan. 20th, 2001 06:00 pm)
Somebody got me thinking about cops today. Not that I don't think about them everyday since I work with them, but I was thinking more about them today after reading something that's so full of the stereotype cop bullshit that I won't even bore myself repeating it. Maybe I take it too personally. My experience with cops has been, for the most part, good. That doesn't mean some of them aren't shitheels...I've known a few of those too. Overall, though, I've found law enforcement to be an under-appreciated and noble profession. My dad was a cop for most of my early childhood. He got out of it and went back to school. He had a partner named Jack. I don't remember much about him other than that he laughed a lot and was always nice to me. You can find him here. I work with honest, kind-hearted, straight-up decent people everyday who happen to be cops. I like them, I laugh with them, I cry with them, and I worry about them. It hasn't been very long since the last cop's funeral that I went to...so pardon me for not laughing at the fucking donut jokes.


catelin: (Default)


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