my contempt for the court

a cross-posting from myspace

So I just got back from my cotempt of court hearing...

Wait, back up.

I am in charge of my brother's inheritance. Have been since my mom died six years ago. Part of my duty (actually, my only duty aside from not spending it) is to file yearly accountings of where the money hasn't gone. Every year for the past six years I've been late with this filing. What can I say? I'm a procrastinator.

Every year when I don't file on time I get a notice in the mail that says "come to a hearing on this date or file before" and I generally file a day or two before the date, saving myself the trouble of sitting through a slew of hearings covering every sort of family issue you can imagine.

This year I missed the deadline and the hearing (I just plum forgot).

So anyway, three weeks ago I got a summons for a show cause hearing to make my argument to the judge for why I shouldn't be held in contempt. Nothing criminal, not really even civil...I didn't think I could get in any sort of trouble. But I didn't know for sure that I couldn't get in trouble either. Little ol' worry-wart me then runs through the possibilities of fines, admonishments, or the night in jail or some other ridiculous scenario.

Today I woke up, got dressed, walked to the courthouse to be there by my 9 o'clock hearing time and sat there. And sat there. Then sat there some more. There were people ahead of me wanting to change their kids' names because they didn't know who the father was at the time of birth, there was a custudial hearing for a little girl whose both parents were in jail/prison. It was a mess and I got to sit through it all...waiting for the trouble that haad been trumped up in my mind. I was getting nervous.

Finally it was my turn. I approached the bench only to have the magistrate tell me that I was there to get my wrist slapped. Yes, he said that. Then he corrected himself and told me he was supposed to knock me over the head with the probate two-by-four. Yes, he said that too. He then continued to scold me only to then send me downstairs to the clerk's desk (where I had already been to ask where the hearing was to be held), pay the $20 filing fee, and file my papers like I should have two months ago.

It was a hoot. But no jail time.

On the flip side of things, there was this kid, 12 years old, that was there to have his name changed to his mother's name. When the judge told him that it was okayed at that he had his new name, the kid pumped his arm and had the most excited look on his face. It was cute. Even in waiting for my 30 years to life prison sentencing (my paranoia was at that point by then...okay, maybe not) I couldn't help but smile. A happy kid can't help but make you smile.

gross but funny

Some Mom just got sentenced to two years probation for hiring a stripper for her son's 16th birthday. So much for Tennessee...

Anyway, looking through articles about the situation I came across this article with a title that got a chuckle out of me.

...but what the hell's he talking about "took his picture"? I've never heard the euphemism. Anyone know?

things i do when i'm bored

My friends were all out of town this weekend. Just a timing thing I guess. Friday I did go to a benefit show for the Grand Raggity Roller Girls, the new roller derby team in GR (and got my picture taken with my favorite roller girl -- in which I look exceptionally fat due to my leaning into her with loose clothing). In any case, I went up to my dad's (which I guess means that I was out of town too) and watched movies, played on the internet, and the like. I also put up a couple personal ads -- mostly to fill out those damn personality tests that I love taking so much (I'm weary of internet personals having gotten a stalker on one a few years ago).

Anyway, I took the test at Yahoo! Personals and they pegged me like crazy -- often too polite and shy at the expense of being forward and assertive, my preference for intimacy over passion, and of course my annoying pickiness and taking things way too seriously. They call me an "individualist" personality type and having a "sensible" love style. Whatever...I'm just in awe of how these stupid tests are so able to peg me with so few questions (like the Myers-Briggs test which I bring up often and which has consistently labled me an INTP for fricken ever). The bad part about it all...I'm rare, and as such scare people away by my not being normal -- except knowing that helps me compensate a bit. Oh well.

In any case, yeah, I got myself bored. Check out the tests if you want, maybe sign up for Yahoo and see if we're compatible (I would find it extremely interesting if one of those sites matched me up with someone I already know)...whatever.

wow

I just realized that this damn blog is three years old, and about six posts away from hitting 1200 posts...that's more than a post a day for the last three years. Daaaaaaamn.

...now if only I'd post a little more often than once or twice a week like I have recently...

a joke

I was looking through the headlines on Drudge right now and saw one about yet another penis amputation and all I could think about was this joke.

Never mind the story, just read the joke...it's funny (though maybe offensive)

the power of the internet

I guess that you can look up just about anyone's high school photo online these days. It's kinda scary, since I won't even show my own to just about anyone. Even those that knew me way back when....eek. Anyway, check out World School Photographs if you want to see if yours is up yet.

right here, right now

I'm sitting in the lobby of the hospital in order to utilize the city's free wifi in air conditioned comfort but a lady is sitting next to me on her cell phone, discussing in graphic detail the birth that she just witnessed. I've heard about the birther's uterus, her birth canal, the placenta, and umbilical cord...and lots of blood and complications and stuff.

I'm sitting here, two or three feet away from her, sitting in a perpendicularly set up chair and she's going on and on about this. In other words, she's well aware of the fact that I'm sitting here. No doubt about it.

It's weird. Not rude, so much, as I don't really care...just weird that this woman has no qualms discussing such graphic, gory, and personal things when I could so easily overhear. I mean, she has to know I can hear her...how can she not? But she doesn't care...placentas and vaginas and uteri (?) in all their glory, shared with perfect strangers. anyway...

i suck

So I’m seeing the cute girl at work about every day these days and talking to her most days. It’s on breaks mostly, a couple of minutes in the morning, a couple in the afternoon…sometimes, albeit rarely, at lunch. She’s awesome, near as I can tell -- she seems to be about so much of what I’m about. She’s afraid to commit to an academic program for grad school, she says, because she’s not sure she wants to commit to any career without being sure…something I did for six long years. She nodded her head along when I talked about child labor today with a third person. She seemed to agree completely when I expressed my desire to never work for some business interest. Hell, she even said she thought it was cool that I don’t own a car.

But it‘s not just that…she was voted most shy in her high school, something that I can oh so identify with. She tends to hang around by herself at work, she’s getting weary of living with her parents, she got her major in English just because she likes to read…

And then there are her eyes…her blue eyes. And her skin and her freckles and her figure and…uh.

…but I can’t ask her out. I can’t get those words out of my mouth. I’m super self-conscious. It’s not that I’m scared that she’ll reject me, I’m not invested enough in her for that to hurt too bad. I’m not embarrassed to express my thoughts, I know a friend of hers knows that I feel this way. Hell, I know that people at work know what I want…but there’s people around, there’s time constraints, there’s pressure and I can’t overcome my general shyness to just come out and express myself for fear that someone will overhear. Not that I care…I just don’t like other people to get involved or know any more about me (emotionally or otherwise) than I care to let them know -- which is to say, unless I want them to know me. I’m too damn protective of myself that way, too secretive, too shy?

I don’t even know if it’s shyness anymore, or at least I’m questioning that. I don’ know if it’s insecurity (I don’t feel insecure) or what. It’s frigidity man, and it sucks. I suck. Bah!

do as i say, not as i do

The blood bank here in Kent County is in need of more blood...and I'm assuming that blood banks around the country (and the world for that matter) are low -- they tend to need more during the summer and people tend to donate less.

In any case, if you're not deathly afraid of needles (like I am), it'd be really cool to stop by your local bank and unload a pint...there's probably free cookies too!

for your consideration

Tom Cruise is nuts.

hotter than coffee

It seems that crashing probes into comets doesn't come cheap -- a Russian astrologer is suing NASA for $300 million (you know, for "moral sufferings") because they altered the balance of the Universe and destroyed her astrological charts. Um, yeah, okay.

In other news, I'm going to file suit against that Brazilian butterfly that flapped its wings and started the chain of events leading to my sunburn.

my new favorite poem

I was never much into ee cummings, largely because of the fact that I just never read anything...but then this came along in a blog that sometimes read and I really like it...it feels familiar to me:

You are tired
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

--e.e. cummings

yet another criminal blogger

On May 16, Joseph E. Duncan killed three people in Idaho and kidnapped two kids. One of those kids, Shasta Groene, was found at a Denny's in her hometown the other day. Her 9-year-old brother, Dylan, is still missing and feared dead. It is horrible to think what has happened to those two kids since their family had been murdered...Duncan was a regustered sex offender who had spent many years in prison for raping a boy at gunpoint. Six weeks, Shasta was in his sick grip...I shudder.

Sadly, this is yet another case where Monday-morning blog-reading might have come into play. Duncan had his own blog, "Blogging the Fifth Nail", in which his last two entries have been dark...very dark:

To be more specific, I am scared, alone, and confused, and my reaction is to strike out toward the perceived source of my misery, society. My intent is to harm society as much as I can, then die. As for the "Happy Joe" (Jet), well he was just a dream. The bogeyman was alive and happy long before Happy Joe.

The blog itself is odd...older posts are written in a way that make me feel as though he is trying to be a good person -- they are insightful and talk of good things -- but there is, from the beginning, this rehashing of his "demons" (as he calls them. As far back as I read, he continually brings up his "victim" status being a criminal, blaming society for what he is (even in his last entry, three days before bludgeoning three people to death, he wrote "I just have a disease contracted from society, and it hurts a lot"), and obsessing about his "past" (quoted because it obviously isn't just his past).

I am reminded of Rachelle Waterman, the girl on Live Journal who had her mother killed (a mirror of her site -- which has since been taken down -- can be found here). Going back through her journal, one can see some of the the "signs". The signs, however, were seen too late. Her mom is dead and she is one trial. The same as in this case.

Anyway, enter another entry into the morbid curiosity file...

all the buzz

Occasionally I check out Yahoo's Buzz just to see what's popular on the internet (at least with Yahoo search engine users). Today the leader of the buzz is Domino Harvey, a model, I guess, who was found dead in her bathtub the other day. Not only did I not hear of this news story, but I never heard the name before...not that I can remember anyway.

It's kind of dumb really -- that this is what people are concerned with enough to use the power of the internet for. I mean, here you have a tool to look up just about any information in the world and you waste it looking up dead models, Jessica Simpson, Brittany Spears, and a whole lot of other crappy musicians like 50 Cent, R. Kelly, Kelly Clarkston, and Mariah Carey. Seriously, look at the list -- there's very little on there worth knowing anything about. Wimbledon maybe, including Maria Sharapova, but I would expect something like "Sandra Day O'Conner" or maybe "Supreme Court" on there or something...but no. Ciara, Green Day, and the WWE are so much more important than the state of the world.

Is this social commentary? Yes. But if you haven't guessed, it's more of a pandering for ridiculous numbers of visitors by referencing as many of the popular search terms as I can in one posting...cuz I'm bored. We'll see what happens. I'll race any of you guys if you'd like...

:)