Archive for June, 2009

How can I type when I have lost motor control?

I have this friend.   This friend is a 23-year old guy who is a co-worker of mine.  In the last six months, he’s become a very good friend.  Tomorrow is his last day at work and I’m mourning his company terribly.  Not only that, but in 5 days his wife is due to give birth to their first child, so I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m probably not going to be seeing very  much of him…well, ever again, I suppose.

(As an aside:  OH MY HOLY PRESHUS JEEZUS 23 YEARS OLD.  He and his wife are so relaxed and unperturbed by the fact that they are about to have a baby that is throws me into conniptions every time I am around them.  They are absolutely about to live my worst nightmare and yet they seem completely OK with it.  How is is possible that everyone in the world isn’t terrified of children?)

So, due to the impending conflagration that their life is about to become, we’ve all been scrambling to hang out with them as much as possible.  They are one of those couples that is up for anything at any time, which is awesome, and they are ridiculously fun to be around.  I am absolutely not one of those people,  but Dan (the friend) is ALSO one of those people who can logically and easily convince you that whatever he wants to do is the best idea in the world.

Now generally these aren’t outlandish schemes or anything- just playing cards until all manner of late hours and various other enjoyable activities, but last Friday night (when I was home all snug in bed, thankyouverymuch) at around midnight I got a rather hilarious text from him:

“Come to Foxwoods on Wednesday night for Karaoke with me and the girl who is going to turn you into a lesbian.”

Says I:  “Goodnight!”

Even yesterday morning when I went to work I had no intention of going with him.  Let me tell you why:

1.  Wednesday night:  Hello!  I’m a big girl with a big girl job!  Sometimes I even wear nice shoes.  I shouldn’t go out a’drinkin’ on Wednesday nights.

2.  Foxwoods:  A casino.  Ew.  They make me sad.  And on top of that, a casino in…

3. FUCKING CONNETICUIT.  Look, I realize that New England states are small, but I have to drive though A WHOLE ENTIRE OTHER STATE just to get to Conneticuit (which is too hard to spell, you assholes!  Change your name!).  I realize that the other state is Rhode Island, but you can just stop right there with your New England snidery!  It’s the principle, yo!

4.  Karaoke:  I have a passable voice, and I will shred some major and awesome tunes…when I am alone in my car by myself.  I may have spent 4years in chorus in high school (in sequins!  Show Choir REPRESENT!), but I have no intention or desire to get up by my lonesome and pitchily embarass myself in front of strangers.  Thanks.  I’m all good there, friend!

5.  Lesbian:  Listen, y’all, I LOVE lesbians.  I even have some of my very own.  One in South Carolina (I love you leezle!) and my very own matching set up here in Massachusetts.  They are three of my favorite people in the world.  However, seriously- I am single and you aren’t going to convince me that way.  Here is a better way:  “There are going to be 7 tall brown-haired guys there who will appreciate your wit and intelligence and also think you are painfully hot.  You can take your pick.”  That is persuasive.  (Though, to Dan’s credit, he has introduced me to several of his hot, funny friends.  The jury is entirely out on whether they are in love with me like they should be.  Clearly they are morons.)

So you see what I’m saying?  EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE THINGS IS UNAPPEALING TO ME.

And yet, inexplicably, I found myself sitting in Dan’s passenger seat as we made our way though Rhode Island last night after work, furiously scrolling through both of our iPods trying to find songs that we knew well enough to make asses out ourselves with.   How does he do this?  It is magic, I tell you!  It’s like he opens his mouth and unicorns prancing on rainbows come out and give you lollypops.

And we had an unbelievable time.  The Karaoke was top-fucking-notch.  I didn’t sing, but it was incredibly fun to watch an entire bar break it down to “The Humpty Dance” as performed by a middle-aged, overweight white guy who called himself AC Slater and knew every single word without checking the monitor once.  He is one of my favorite people.  Thank god he exists.

And then we left at 1 AM.  And drove through Connecticuit.  And then Rhode Island.  And then back to his house in Southern Massachusetts.  And then I picked up my car and drove back to my house  in Eastern Massachusetts.  And at 4:04 AM I walked in my door, collapsed in a heap somewhere in the vicinity of my bedroom, and staggered into work today for a delightful morning and afternoon with my boss as we sifted though files and files and files that dated back to 1981 (when I wasn’t even born!) as I pondered how quickly I could commit suicide using floppy discs and paper cuts (not quickly enough, damnation!).  I literally felt like I was going to die today.

And in a desperate attempt to try and keep myself from falling asleep at 5:30, I wrote this post (which took me SEVENTEEN HOURS because I can’t even remember where to put my fingers on the keyboard).   And normally I would try to come up with a witty and clever way to close this down, but seriously,  you’re lucky you got all that.  At least I’m not singing to you.

I beat the justice system!

Back in November, I got a notice that was called up for state jury duty in Brockton, Massachusetts.   Now, Brockton isn’t very far from me, but you do stand about a 97% chance of getting shot at some point (and about 60% that’s its a shot to the head!), so there was a little bit of an inconvenience factor.  Unfortunately for the great state of Massachusetts (which, by the way, FUCK YOU for being cold of JUNE GODDAMN FIRST.  I actually had to wear a jacket today!), they called me in for the middle of January which was back when I was working 65 hours a week, coming home only to weep exhaustedly, then going back to work so it wasn’t really possible for me to go to jury duty.  You are allowed one deferrment, which I requested for June 1st.  How far away that seemed…

Well, here we are.  In March I got a new summons, and this time they had summoned me for FEDERAL jury duty (hoo-boy!  Lucky me!  The guy at our jury orientation told us this morning that we were part of the lucky .05% of the Massachusetts population who was chosen to serve in the Federal jury pool- “don’t you feel lucky!?” he asked, excitedly.  I don’t know.  Are you going to feel lucky when I PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE for being chipper at 8:15 in the morning?).  The federal courthouse in in Boston and our summons time was 8 AM.

Y’all, it takes me a long time to get from Plymouth to Boston in the mornings.  I still have to go in occasionally for work, and it is infuriating.   How in the hell did I do this for 11 months?!  For one thing, I didn’t have to be at work until 9 AM, so that made it easier.  Needing to be at the courthouse at 8 AM meant that I took the 6:19 train this morning.  I was especially amused by the fact that I got home at 4 AM on Saturday morning, and was getting up at 5 AM on Monday morning.  It feels a hell of a lot better on the OTHER side of o’fuck’o’clock than it does to be stumbling around towards an exciting morning of the grinding wheels of bureaucracy.

My jury summons made it very clear that I was to be expected to be ON CALL for summons for an entire two weeks, which gave me a pit in my stomach.  I’m really not in the least busy at work right now, but the idea of spending two weeks getting up that early and having to miss work was upsetting.  I don’t even want to think about my inbox when I get there tomorrow, much less after two weeks.  I was trying to come up with all kinds of ways that I could get them to reject me.  I figured I could make a convincing argument for being racist and/or a yankee-hater if they happened to ask me where I was from and another friend told me that I should harangue the Justice System for being corrupt, but I also kept hearing all kinds of stories about people still being required to serve no matter what crazy shit they spewed.  I was just hoping they wouldn’t like me (impossible, I know!).

When we got there, they told the group of about 90 of us that they were selecting the jury for 3 trials- one criminal and two civil- and that they were both likely to be long trials, probably taking the entire two weeks.  Damn.  They called us up in groups of 30.  Lucky for me I was in the last group, as the first ones who went got screened for two trials and I only got screened for one, so my chances were pretty good.  They called us into the (by the way- beautiful!) courtroom and introduced the case to us.  It was one of the civil trials- the EPA was suing a trucking company for (allegedly) violating emissions standards and falsifying their records.  My first thought was: “hell yeah!  I’m going to get to be an environmental activist!”  My second though was: “Hmm…that probably isn’t impartial.”  They asked us all kinds of questions about knowing any of the lawyers or having relatives or friends who worked for any of the interested parties, etc.  Then the judge asked “If you know any reason that you would be morally or ethically influenced to not be impartial to this case, please stand up.”  I stood.  They called me up to the bench with the lawyers and asked me to explain.  I told the judge that I was an active environmentalist and I had particlar interest in emissions standards.  I watched the defense lawyers eyebrows shoot OFF of his head as he scrawled something on his legal pad.  The Judge asked me if I thought it would influence my discision and I said “yeah, I’m pretty sure it would.”

About 5 minutes later I was excused as a juror!  Yay!  And I didn’t even have to make up a racist joke or anything!  Woo, Justice!