The Death of Sadie Grey

Yesterday was Take Your Child to Work Day.

Daughter went to work with The Banker. She learned that, in addition to not wanting to be a lawyer, she is also not interested in banking as a future career path. According to reports, Daughter spent the day greeting customers, counting money, and outting our newest Blogger.

Daughter: To The Banker, in the presence of The Banker's Boss "What do you do all day, besides blog?"
The Banker: "Uhhh." Immediately deletes her blog.

Fair enough.

I'm totally bummed. Not only is my favorite new blogger now gone - she was outted by my spawn. I blame this on Boyfiend's genes. My DNA has a built in anti-ratting-to-the-man protection mechanism.

Maybe next year I shouldn't pawn off Take Your Child to Work Day on someone else.

Cheese and Rights.

On April 10, during the huge immigration protests, the local cafe was closed. There was a note taped to the door informing hungry patrons that the cafe would not open due to anticipated staffing shortages. No big deal, I bought a pasta salad from the quickie mart. Thumbs up - I'm down with the protesters.

On April 11, the cafe reopened. Strangely, most of the staff were unfamiliar faces. I thought little of it. Over the following days, I noticed that the pre-protest employees never came back.

Yesterday, at the cafe, one of the new people was making my salad.

Lex: "Could you put cheese on that?"
New Guy: "I think that cost extra."
Lex: "Huh? They never charge me for cheese."
New Guy: "Oh." Puts cheese on my salad. "Next time, I think you need to tell the meng." Points to the Order Guy.
Lex: "Yeah, sure. What happened to the old salad-making girls?"
New Guy: "Don't know, they no work here no more."
Lex: "What!? Is it because of the protest?"
New Guy: "Don't know."
Lex: Loud enough for the owner to hear. "Cause that would be some serious bullshit to fire people for standing up for what they believe in."
New Guy: "Don't know. We don't have no fat-free Ranch. Want reglar?"
Lex: "Cheese and rice. Sure, yeah, whatever. I can't believe they fired everyone for the protest."

I don't know if that's what happened. I don't know that I care. What is really pissing me off is that I'm getting charged 50 cents for cheese on a $3.00 salad. And now it's just a little sprinkling of cheese, where I used to get heaps for free. This is bullshit. Fuck the man and his refusal to support immigrant rights. And my free cheese.

Nair Lip

This weekend, I decided to do a little upper lip hair removal. I used Nair. Apparently, I used Nair for too long. Now, my upper lip is red, and beginning to get all flaky. Because questions are certain to follow, I am working up a list of good excuses.

- Acid milk-mustache. Likely related to mad cow disease.
- Really cheap, partial facial peel.
- Super hot sex with a lesbian who hasn't waxed in awhile.
- Inability to apply lipstick correctly. Coupled with a severe lipstick allergy.
- Sunbathing in a ski-mask with not enough mouth protection.

Once I hit the big time, I'm shelling out for electroylsis. Until then, please help with other good responses to the ever burning question: "what the hell happened to your mouth?"

Happy Birthday to Mom

Continuing the string of April birthdays in the Fori Family -- Happy Birthday to Mom!!!

I don't remember how old you are... Could there be a better present?

Happy Earth Day to Dad.

Today is my father's birthday. He would have turned 56. I don't think my dad would have liked being 56. The upside of dying young is people remember you that way.

So here's to recycling, fighting global warming and appearance conservation.

I Want to Find Meaning,But...

The doctor testified that if he had it to do all over again, he would do everything exactly the same.

We lost the case.

Birthday Wishes and A Child's Insight

Last night, Daughter proclaimed (in the face of her upcoming birthday) that "1/3 of my life is over."

Lex: "Well, you're nine. 9 x 3 = 27. So your life will be over when you turn 27?"
Daughter: "Yeah."
Lex: "Sweetheart, I turn 27 tomorrow."
Daughter: Embarassed. "I was kidding."

It would have been better if she had actually been kidding. Rather, she felt bad for accidently saying something hurtful. No big deal. 27 seems far, far away to a 9 year old.

So yeah, today, I am 27. Wow. Crazy.

For my birthday, I want two things:
1) Grandpa. He is having a pretty intense surgery today, I want it to go well.
2) Verdict. We hand the jury our case today, I want our clients to win.

Stop, Drop & Roll

Yesterday, the courthouse trial is being held in had an A.M. fire drill.

That afternoon, the courthouse across the steet caught on fire.

What's So Great About Really Deep Thoughts?

Why is it that in big cities, downtown parking lot elevators inevitably reek of urine?

Resurrection of Logic.

Last night I came clean to Daughter about the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Daughter said she "Already knew, was about 2/3 sure." So anyhow, my grand lesson of the holiday mascots was achieved. When Daughter was born, I considered forgoing the Easter Bunny and Santa, thinking it was a bad idea to lie to your child from the get-go. But then it occurred to me that it could, down the road, be a good lesson in teaching her to question things.

Last night, after I spilled the beans, bragged about how slick I was by getting different kinds of special Santa wrapping paper and ribbons - I instilled wisdom upon Daughter.

Lex: "See Daughter, here is the point, people are always going to be trying to get you to believe things they can't prove to you."
Daughter: "Uh-huh."
Lex: "So when people want you to just believe things, remember all this Easter Bunny and Santa Claus nonsense. Ask yourself if what you're being told makes sense."
Daughter: "Yeah."
Lex: "Next time you're at a slumber party, and friends are telling you stories about Bloody Mary and demons...."
Daughter: "Proof."
Lex: "And monsters and ghosts..."
Daughter: "Proof."
Lex: Smiles. "Smart girl."
Daughter: "Like God and stuff."
Lex: "Yeah."
Daughter: "Proof."
Lex: Oh yeah. Score one for mommy.

I was proud that my long-term lesson panned out so nicely. But I couldn't resist one last opportunity to screw with the mind of my innocent youth.

Lex: "But the Tooth Fairy... I can't help you there. I don't even know how that works. Although, my dad told me the Tooth Fairy is really a guy."
Daughter: "Really?"

I guess some lessons take time to set in all the way.

Five Days of Youth

My birthday is coming Friday. I will turn 27. Turning 27 sucks. I miss turning 17. Wait, when I was turning 17... I was 40 weeks pregnant. Scratch that. I miss turning 18.

If we had money, I would ask Boyfriend to get me a digital camera so I could take pictures of random things I find entertaining. I would then post said visual aids on this blog. But I'm not even cool enough to have a cell phone that takes pictures.

Man, I am getting old. All crotchety and whiny.

At least today I didn't have to work. This is the first Sunday I've had off in a month. Sweet, sweet day - to enjoy what is left of my youth.

Family elders will surely read this and think "Pshhht. Fucking Lex. Dumb kid."

Found Out?

Hm.

I blogged from work this morning before court. At the last minute, I caught a ride with Office Manager, and did not have time to delete cookies, history, etc. I ended that post with: "Fucking fat people and their Jelly Bellys."

I just got back from court and there is a bag of Jelly Bellys on my chair. Although I am not a fattie (friends and family please confirm) - I am annoying - especially on candy.

Might I be busted? If so, as of now, only Front Secretary knows. She was the only person in the office all day.

I just finished making fun of Front Secretary:

Front Secretary: "Jesus died today." Glance at watch "like, two hours ago."
Lex: "Well, wait a second, Phoenix is not on Roman time. I mean, back up, lets keep it real."
Front Secretary: Flips Lex off.
Lex: "Shouldn't you be in mass?"
Front Secretary: Flips Lex off again.

Perhaps I should take a friendlier approach to Front Secretary. In fact, I gonna go apologize and pray with her.

A Baby & A Banker

We have a couple friends visiting this week. They came down from their small town, bringing
their new baby. I got to play with New Baby. I got to hold New Baby. I watched New Baby sleep for an hour. Watching him sleep in my arms, I started crying. I am a suckerfish. There's just something about it... it's not very often in life that you encounter perfect things. Purity. No ill-will; no bad habits; nothing but possibility. On one hand, I can count the number of times I have met someone who has never made a mistake. It's overwhelming. I hope he's still there when I get home, I could use another happy cry.

Times like last night make me want another baby, but I don't think I deserve it.

In other news -- very, very exciting news -- The Banker is a blogger! She has been hiding it, and only gave the address yesterday. I immediately demanded permission to link. Permission begrudgingly granted. This will be interesting because we share common household experiences, and she has already posted on some of the things I have. For instance, The Banker (hereinafter, Sadie Grey) wrote about her perception of Daughter's desire to understand religion.

And for all else on Sadie Grey, catch up at http://sadiegrey.blogspot.com/.

My favorite post involves the mechanics of a stupid bank training session. Fucking fat people and their Jelly Bellys.

Here a God, There a God, Everywhere a God, God...

Enough is enough. I have been officially assaulted by Christ, Joseph-Landers and God-References.

I was pushed over the edge today upon learning that Gwyneth Paltrow had her 2nd kid, and beat out the oddity of Apple by naming him Moses.

But I was already walking a fine line. It started last week when Daughter began asking questions about God and Heaven and Hell. When Daughter was five, she proclaimed Atheism, after a friend got mad at her for not believing in Shiva. And another for not being Muslim. And another for not believing in Jesus. Ah, the glory of raising a child in Berkeley. "I don't believe in God. It doesn't make sense mommy, that so many people could be wrong."

I was so proud of my genius.

Now, we live in Red-State Jesus-Land. All of Daughter's friends believe in God. The same (basic) God. Heaven, Hell and the Bible. Daughter feels like the outcast because she is the only one who doesn't go to church. Daughter knows that Mom thinks Religion is bullshit. Daughter is afraid that if she doesn't believe in God, she will end up in Hell. Scare-tactics... brilliant.

As an aside, I also got into a disagreement with a co-worker. Explaining that I would rather be a politician than a lawyer, I noted that it could never be. A teenage-out-of-wedlock-former-addict-raging-atheist is unelectable. Her response?

Co-Worker: Perplexed. "You're not really an atheist?"
Lex: Perplexed. "Uh, yeah, I am."
Co-Worker: "It all makes no sense without intelligent creation, why worms would develop eyes."
Lex: Oh really, no way! I never thought of that before! "Evolution makes way more sense to me than assuming the world was created in a matter of days by some big man in the sky. It just all seems a little schizophrenic. Ohhhh - crazy man hears you...."

The topic of conversation changed after that.

Anyhow, so Daughter wants to know all about God. She wants to go to church. She wants to read the Bible. All of which I encouraged her to do. I figure if I try to shield her from the insanity of religion, it will be like the sweet, sweet forbidden fruit and next thing I know she'll be Mormon and on a mission... I sooooo don't want her going down this misguided path, but I figure I have to let her see the road and decide that it is the journey of illogic. Right?

So I gave her a copy of the Bible. Also the Koran. She needs equal exposure. After that will be the Dead Sea Scrolls and the new book of Judas. The Banker has offered to take her to church and I agreed that is fine - just requested that they mix up the types of churches. One Sunday with the Catholics oughta bore Daughter, at least Agnostic...

Daughter asked me and Boyfriend to read the Bible with her. We all sat in her bed, and there I was, reading the God damned Bible, trying to make it interesting, emphasizing voices. We got to the rib of man and people started begatting.

Wow. I never, ever thought I would be saying that I read my kid the Bible.

I pray so hard this will pass.

Eee-Yi-Eee-Yi-Ohhh... no.

Foreheads Look Weird.

Apologies for the lack of regular posting. Trial is insane; I've been working crazy hours. I was at work last night until 7:30, only to speed home to catch the episode of Desperate Housewives that wasn't on. I swear, you have one poison.... and the man just rips it away from you.

Today should be interesting. More prep, legal research and insanity stress.

One important thing I learned this weekend, via The Banker, is that when people are really mad at you, their foreheads crinkle up and look really, really creepy.

The Banker clearly is exposed to far too much animosity at work.

If You Want to be a Trial Attorney...

...don't count on law school to teach you how.

At the trial level, all the things you learned in three years become irrelevant. Rules of Evidence, mangled. Rules of Procedure, bent into circles. Justice, a crap shot. If you want to be a trial attorney, go put $50 on black at the roulette table. That will be a much better lesson in the workings of trial lawyering than the tens of thousands spent on law school.

Seriously future litigators - it's fucking insanity out here. I never realized just how insane until this week.

Dear Mama,

Thank you so much for your support. I just love you all the time. Your email made me cry, but I read it 20+ times yesterday and today. It helps to know that my mother is proud of my decisions, actions and ideals. And that even when I go wrong, you see how my mistakes can make me better. I would never have learned to care so much about other people if I hadn't seen you do that your whole life.

For every time you admonished me to not judge too quickly, for teaching me that people are more than they appear, for searching for the good in every person you meet... thank you. I promise I will do my best to make you proud.

Thank you so much mama.

I would have been super fucked-up if I had to learn all my people skills from dad.

Forever,

Lex

P.S. to everyone else: My mom is really good at making me feel better. Like everyone, particularly folks in my family, we have issues. But the one thing I have always, always known is that my mother loves me. Being able to cry to your mom can save a kid a lot of grief. Although I wonder what weight to give her praise - mom would be proud of me if I lived in a cardboard box and sold dry rocks. She would think it a great chance to meet interesting people and ask me what rock-collectors are like.

Bar Exam: 1/3 of the Score.

My multistate score came yesterday. I got 1 point below the mean.

By my math, I need to get 66% on the AZ state portion to pass.

I would have liked to feel better about this.

Cheese and rice.

Uncertainty and Sadness

Yesterday was the single worst day of my entire work-life. Of any job. Anywhere.

It involved trial preparation of clients in a MedMal case. Difficult questions, difficult discussions, and preparing for how cross-examination might be. Last night in bed I began crying. Found myself deep in dilemma about this job. How did I find myself in the small percentage of the legal field that deals with death and illness and the worst possible tragedies?

Among other things, I asked myself:

How am I supposed to feel about work that involves such emotion and pain--often the most emotional and painful experience a family has endured? Should it affect me as much as it does? Should I be able to distance myself from the emotion? If I could, is that the right thing to do? Is forgetting the emotion tantamount to forgetting what the case is about? Is it arrogant of me to be lying in bed crying about something that didn't even happen to me? What happens if we lose? These people went through years of litigation, and if it doesn't turn out well, will the whole lawsuit make their pain worse? What will it do to the healing process? And if we win, the tragedy remains? Maybe a doctor somewhere will take things more seriously from now on, but is that enough? Is one "guilty" verdict going to be enough to make me feel good about how painful the preparation process has been? Will a "not guilty" verdict destroy me? Will it destroy the clients? Am I cut out for this? Should anyone be?

I'm having a work-ethical-moral breakdown. I know in law school it's all about separating yourself and trying to be the best advocate you can for your clients, regardless of their position. I could never do that. I have always identified with clients, that was why I wanted to do plaintiffs work. So here I got my wish and I am not sure I can handle it - because I am so caught up in it.

How should it be? How should I feel? Should I find a boring transactional contracts job? Go back to employment law? Something a little more diet than the heavy, heavy area I landed in? If I did, would I find that work emotionally lacking? Does asking all these questions suggest an obvious answer?

I'm lost. And in a funk about it.

=(