Sunday, March 29, 2009

Inside the mind

I have a nasty trial coming up. I've done lots of trials down in district court, but this is my first jury trial, and true to my pattern of jumping right the hell into anything I do, the guy is facing decades in prison, the prosecutor is known for being underhanded, slimy and sneaky and the judge is notorious for being completely unfair and biased toward the prosecution, which he gets away with because people never have the money to appeal. I understand that my feelings and thoughts right now are pretty normal. So, I thought I'd share with you what's going through your lawyer's head the week before a big jury trial.

"Oh, crap! Well, I guess that bitch is showing up. Maybe she'll smoke too much crack and not make it. No, I won't get that lucky. Hell, my guy won't get that lucky; if he were lucky he wouldn't be here. Ok, Ok, I got this. No I don't. What the hell? We should have taken that plea. No, dammit, he didn't do this. And he wants a trial. What if we lose? I can't think that way. So, what kind of underhanded shit is Asshole D.A. going to pull? I just need to be ready for it. Surely the jury will see he's just being a dick. What if the jury is full of dicks? You never know about people and it's such a crap shoot. That's OK. I got this. I got this. What have I gotten myself into? Too late, got to get my game on here. Shit shit suddenly I can't remember a single rule of evidence. OK, I'm going to list all the hearsay exceptions. . . .this is a waste of time. I got to get ready. Hey, look! One of their cops got fired and moved to Florida! Oh, hell, wait - this is the one who shows that chick was telling conflicting stories. Wow, my paralegal's brother had some good ideas. Shit, he came up with things I missed and he's not even a lawyer! I am so going to tank this. No, I'm going to win it because I'm talking to people and getting ideas. It's going to be OK. Yeah. Fuck them. We got this. That cracked out 'ho isn't beleivable and the jury will certainly see that. She ain't shit. Fuck them. The cops didn't even know her stories conficted. Well, my guy's story isn't that believable, either. Just focus on her, just focus on her . . . "

and that's a day in the life. Why did I go to law school again?

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Only in America

I've loosely followed the AIG bonus scandal and honestly, can only get so mad. That's what these fuckers do - get rich irresponsibly and without principle at the expense of other people. That's how we got into this mess. Kind of late to get pissed now. Where were you hell raisers the past 8 years while big companies were allowed to run rampant like fat children at a pizza buffet, or frat monkeys at a kegger? Distracted by the flag waving? I have to give Bush that; he was a master magician. The public was properly distracted by the hand waving the flag while the other hand pickpocketed us. Hey, where's my retirement account? Stop, theif! Oh, hell, he's long gone.

It's nice that there is a bill to have the AIG bonuses, and perhaps others, taxed at a high rate. After all, that is taxpayer money. But the bonuses were 1/1000 percent of the bailout money. It's kind of like (watch out, metaphor #4!) telling the guy who robbed you that you want your pennies back. What does confuse me is that the bonuses were to entice the very people who fucked everything up to not quit their jobs. Really? It seems like they would want to fire those idiots, not pay them to stick around. "Hey John! You suck! Here's a million dollars!"

Only in America.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

L-A-W yer!

Sigh. The hot D.A. hasn't been flirting with me lately, and has been having lunch with cops, and dating some meathead state trooper, ( a guy, too; what a waste) and won't even cut deals when her case sucks anymore. This goes to show you that hanging out with cops is just bad for everyone.

I have a few theories on why. My favorite is that the stench of kevlar and misused power is toxic. I suspect it creates an invisible, soul-killing poison, all the more insidious because it is deceptively sexy. Stay away, hot D.A.! Stay away! It's gonna get you! They're out to get us all!

I still managed to get the proper legal argument through on one of the several guy D.A.'s, who I don't find hot, but are far more sensible. I crack on guys a lot, but if you break out a book and show them in black and white you are right, they will generally go along with you unless they are total idiot pricks who aren't going to listen to anyone anyway. The trick is to manage to break out a book, because it is you who will have to do this. I was in the front of the courtroom where the lawyers sit, reading the statute book, and this old guy lawyer makes fun of me, saying "Reading the statute book again?" "Uh, yeah." I said. "Huh", he says, followed by something mumbled and pointless."Well, I just got my client's DWI dismissed because I read the statutes, so I think he considers it worth my while." I told him. He seemed impressed and suprised. Dude, we're fucking lawyers. L-A-W yers. That means we 'yer' the law, which I think is an old english book for "read the fucking". Seriously? Cracking on a lawyer for reading the law? Where do I work? Of course, later I turned to a woman lawyer and asked if she knew the statute number for something, as I couldn't remember it. "Me? Know statute numbers?" she said. "Uh, yeah." I said. "Oh, I don't know any statute numbers." Dude. We're fucking lawyers. L-A-W yers. Whoa.

I work in backwards land where the hot D.A. is corrupted by jackbooted trooper stink, and the guy D.A.s will listen and the guy attorneys don't want to read the law and the women attorneys don't want to remember it. I am a lesbian in a strange land. But it's a land where I can kick some serious ass simply because I'm willing to read the damn statute book - unless I'm talking to the hot D.A., who is quickly becoming a lost cause. Just call me L-A-W yer, dammit. And bring me in some money when you do.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Query me this

I admit it. I'm a total girl about those silly online relationship articles and short personality/love/are you a good kisser?/what kind of duck would you be? quizzes that abound online and in magazines these days. I'd be a Mallard duck! I am a good kisser! Yes, my girlfriend would make me a meatloaf if I asked! I even read the straight girl ones about what guys want in bed, which are utterly and totally inapplicable to me, just because. Of course, I usually say "ewwww..." at some point, but they're still fun.

The other day I read a dating article written by a man that was actually not half bad. I guess he got the job somehow. Lesbian lessons? I'm not sure. The thing that stood out was "men need sex to feel close. Women need to feel close to have sex." I think he's pretty much got it nailed. Even those crazy one night stands, speaking for myself, were preceded with feeling listened to and liked, yet I'd never thought about it that way. Ironically, as I write, I have on a cable radio station with a guy repeating, over a heavy beat, "smack my bitch up, smack my bitch up!" Wow, what a turn on.

So, here are some ideas for new quizzes, for you quiz writers out there. Feel free to use any of them. Publish them in Cosmopolitan or on facebook! I don't even want any credit. This is a public service, legal bandit style. Ok, here we go!

"Are you still a caveman?"
"Are you not getting laid because you are an ass?"
"Are you a candidate for castration as you sleep?"
"Are you a slut?"
"Are you Republican because you're an asshole?"
"Are you really a drunk, like everyone says?"
"Is she really a bitch, or did she dump you because you're fucked up?"
"How long before your boobies sag?"
"Would your breath wilt a squirrel?"
"Does your arrest record weigh more than your pet?"
"Would you rather be right than happy?"

Just some ideas. I think people should know themselves. Of course, the question is what we do with that information. Too often I think people think "Oh, that's how I am" and use it as an excuse for bad behavior, like we're made of formica or something. Of course, it's all in what you want. Want to be right, dammit, and smack your bitch up? Be my guest. But don't come bitching to me when no decent women will sleep with you and people want to stab you in the head. I tried to tell you. You shoulda listened.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

I'll love your potluck tomorrow

I'll miss the "L Word." It isn't that I know anyone who wears $300 bras, or looks like Jennifer Beals, or that any of the characters set terribly good examples. It's that otherwise, TV and movies have a serious dearth of lesbian relationships and sex. It just feels a little lonely to totally lack a reflection anymore.

There is an odd balance between a nod to a culture, to tradition, and to finding our own way. This weekend I went to a lesbian wedding. They got married in a church and wore white dresses. I, who desperately need lessons in wearing heels and what to do with a scarf, tried to help one of the brides figure out how to hold her flowers and walk and look a little less like a large tube of satin took her by surprise. I was the one eyed dyke in the land of the blind! Their mom/dads gave them away and they had a hotel reception and a first dance and everything. Of course, the first dance was, I think an unwitting nod, to lesbian drama, being "Will you still love me tomorrow?" I thought, "If you're wondering that, should we really be here, eating reception chicken?"

Far be it from me to deny any girl her white wedding, and I support any dyke who wants to have one wholeheartedly. It just isn't for me. I figure, if I'm far enough from tradition to do away with the fucking groom, what am I going to bust out a white wedding dress and a diamond for? Here's the plan. If my girl and I ever have a ceremony, I think we should go with evites and a potluck. Now, that's lesbian - a potluck! Lots of tofu and girls in pants! Maybe an herbal tea bar. Titanium rings of course, which I won't fuck up working on my truck and she won't fuck up trimming the hedges. We get flowers from the farmer's market and go camping for the honeymoon. Now that sounds like my kind of wedding.

But maybe the point is that we get to create our own traditions, or not. On the cutting edge of civil rights and politics, we get to decide what to take and what to keep on our own, at least so long as our churches and legislators will let us. What ultimately matters is that every day, I can look at girlfriend bandit, and say "Yes, I will love you tomorrow."

Monday, March 2, 2009

Queer advice for the straight guy

I feel bad for straight guys. Recently I found myself freezing outside at a funeral and a guy I know offered me his jacket, which of course I took because I was freezing my ass off. Later we got into a conversation about how confusing it is to be a guy these days - open the door, or not? Offer to help carry stuff, or not? Guys are already operating at a deficit where women are concerned and I guess changing up the rules is pretty hard on them. It's not like they adjust easily anyway. Hey,maybe I'll adopt one! He can mow my yard and I'll call him George.

I do have a couple of long standing straight male friends who do pretty well. Otherwise, based on my experience wanting to strangle men and listening to straight women bitch, it appears that most guys desperately need a lesbian lesson. They storm around and have no idea what they're stomping on. Therefore, in thanks for the jacket at the funeral, I'm here offering a few basic lessons in girl 101 for you husbands, boyfriends, employers, employees, family members and general idiots. I promise it will not shrink your weenie to stop pretending you know everything for a minute.

Lesson one: You do not know everything. That's OK. STOP IT. That know all shit is really, really annoying.

Two: In a relationship, winning is almost always really losing. Next time you are pushing a point, ask yourself this - would you rather be right, or happy? Then shut the hell up. We aren't like guys; we don't argue the point then get over it like a soccer match. We tell you how we feel and if you keep pushing, you may get your way, but it will be very, very expensive. I'm not saying bend over. I'm saying listen and quit trying to shove things down her throat she's already spit out.

Three: What women want most is not money, power, security or your dick. That's what you want. Security is on the list, but it doesn't mean what you think. What women want most is to be listened to. Really listened to - not that shit where you get half drunk or jacked up on coffee, ask a question, listen for what you want to hear or evidence to support your argument for some retarded shit later, interrupt, take what you heard out of context then use it to your own advantage. That's not listening. It's creating fantasies of stabbing you. Try this: drink less beer and coffee. Be ready to be surprised and give up the notion you have to win anything. Ask a question about something she's interested in. Don't interrupt or get in your head strategizing. Look at her face, not her boobs. Think about what she said. Ask a related question. You will learn a lot this way and are far less likely to be stabbed.

Four: You can't even make all the rules with a lawnmower engine. What makes you think you get to make the rules with people? Get off your throne. You are not king. You do not get to do what the hell you want and expect everyone else to deal with it. "I yam what I yam" didn't even fly for a cartoon character. And you definitely can't expect to get away with whatever you want,complain about what another person does and expect them to give a fuck about how you feel. Play fucking fair. You are not made of rock - I mean steel - oh wait, I can't think of a single thing that isn't capable of change! Now grow the hell up and start relating if you want a relationship.

Five: Get some trimmers. Seriously. That nose and ear hair is NOT cute and yes, women notice. Clip your nails. Get some breath strips, especially if you smoke. Do some situps. That gut hanging over your belt? I don't know a ton of straight chicks, but none of them find it sexy.

Six: Security doesn't mean riding in on a white horse or paying for stuff. It means being there. See all those poor guys/girls with women totally in love with them? Yeah. Money and help are great, and financial stability is really important to some of us who do not want to pay your bills. But, they are not, ultimately, what women need. We need to know our partners will stick by us when the shit hits the fan; that they can be faithful, care enough about us to listen, will listen, can listen, (real listening, not the grab something and use it later like we're on fucking trial "listening"), believe in us, support us, care about our kids and pets, care about our welfare, will think to offer a jacket in the cold or pick up soup when we have a cold. That's security.

Of course, I generalize, and some women think all they want is another hit of crack or money enough to not depend on some neanderthal who treats women like they can be bought. But maybe this will help some dude who really is trying. I'm sure there are a few out there somewhere, loaning their jackets in the cold, and trying really hard to pay attention. Good luck guys, because this is definitely not a man's world.