Jury Duty for 3 Weeks - How bad could it be?

So yeah, we all get the yearly summons for jury duty. This year, my card came in April for a county court date in May. As luck would have it, I was chosen and me and eleven other, like-minded individuals spent an amazing three weeks together.

Okay, the amazing part is a bit of an embellishment. The trial was a civil case and it was anything but civil. So basically, it was boring. I did have an AMAZING encounter with the prosecuting attorney that many of my friends and family have begged me to put on the blog, so I decided that I would share this today.

It so happened, that on the second day of the trial, both attorneys had just finished their opening arguments. The prosecuting attorney was preparing to call his first witness, but lucky for us, the judge decided to excuse the jury for one of our much needed and deserved breaks.

We typically used this 15 minutes to use the bathroom, grab a snack, stretch out our muscle aches that we all received from sitting in a VERY cramped and tight jury box. One thing that was common for ALL of us was to immediatly switch on our cell phones and check in at the office or with our kids. It was very important for us to remember to turn our cell phones back off or into silent mode, because who wants that going off in the middle of court? It had already happened twice to people who were just observing the trial, and the judge was NOT happy. Imagine what it would be like if it happened to a jury member.

If you got a minute, I can tell you.

We came back from break on that second day, and you-know-who forgot to turn off their cell phone (no, I don't mean Voldemort - he wasn't even there). It wouldn't have been so bad if my boss hadn't decided to call me at the exact moment the prosecuting attorney began to question his very first witness. Those with an Xbox will be happy to note that my kids had changed my ringtone to the theme song for the game "Halo" - so I had that going on...but it was set to get gradually higher/louder as I didn't answer so after the first ring, I knew it was imperative that I shut that baby off right away. The judges head turned slowly in our direction (think slo-mo) as I bent over to reach under my chair for my purse.

I believe I mentioned that the jury box was tight. It was not only a struggle to pull the purse out, but then I had to reach into the abyss of wallet, make-up, receipts, feminine products and whatever else just to find the phone. When my fingers finally found it, I jerked it out and turned it off at the same time. Saved the day! You would think. Except we are talking Burch Luck here, and as luck would have it, it was that time of the month for ole Ang and the guilty cell phone came out of my purse with a little packaged friend attached and when I had flung the cell phone open to silence it, the tampon went flying, landing at the foot of the prosecuting attorney. Mind you, he NEVER stopped questioning the witness at the time and this was not to be a deterrent either, as he just nonchalantly kicked the offending article back over to me and that was that. No big deal.

Only one other jury member really paid attention to that part, and he was a 20-year-old who had only just voted six months before in his first election. Seeing that he was only 20, and not quite what I would consider mature, he had a hard time controlling his mirth and for about the next 5 minutes, his chair vibrated with his laughter. Two more weeks into the trial, and HIS cell phone went off. He immediately silenced his and whispered to me "see how easy that was?" Little shit.

By Popular Demand

And, by popular demand, I mean the ten or so people who e-mailed, called or chatted with me online and said I should post MORE of my stuff, or to keep on writing. The thing is...I never stop. In fact, I have probably 15-20 pieces started and saved into draft form on my blogger that I had been reluctant to share, but now feel it's worth it; at least to get some feedback.

Just to warn you though....a blog is ALWAYS like a first draft. What you see is what you get. I do not edit, spell check or fact check (though I may send you to a link every now and then, I have no way -or desire - to check it's authenticity) and very often - I make no sense at all.

I won't go as far to say I'm bringing you the "Best of" or "Angie's Greatest Wits." I'm just trying to fill up space on the internet. Whether you read further or not is entirely up to you.

Facebook IS the new Blog

Wow. I typed up a great blog for this title entry, and upon posting, even though I had saved multiple times, I lost the whole thing. I couldn't recreate that kind of spontaneous writing energy, even if I wanted to....so for anyone reading this...pretend it is something profound. At least until I can find the animation within me to move forward!

Marvelous Monday???

Never, EVER did I believe that I would be one of those people who could NOT grow old gracefully. Turning 30 didn't hurt at all, even when I turned 39 (last year) I didn't care that I would soon be 40.

I am not a glamourous person and I am nothing even remotely close to being high maintenance. I wash my face with plain water, unless it's on one of those rare occasions that I have maybe applied make-up, then soap is added. If I happen to not feel like ironing my clothes, warm will be good enough. That's why God made dryers! Hell just today I plucked a shirt out of the hamper, gave it a good tester sniff, and pulled it over my head. I will not be picky on a Saturday!

That's why, five days ago, when I turned 40, I was completely surprised by the melancholy the day brought with it. I smiled at people, said good morning, told Dr. Wolkien I was "marvelous" (that being the adjective to describe ourselves on Mondays at work), sat down at my computer and cried. It was NOT Marvelous Monday to me, nor would Tuesday be Terrific, Wednesday be Wonderful, Thursday and Friday tremendous and Fabulous consecutively. What happened to the happy-go-lucky Ang that used to tease all of her friends who were older than her?

Who was this stranger who was pulling out a seldom used compact from her purse to check her much older self out in the mirror?

Who put the dark circles under my eyes? Why are my freckles suddenly grouping together in little families? Am I soon going to be one of those ladies who smather lipstick on their face, totally outlining their entire lips and putting some on their front teeth for good measure? Will I someday too lose my sense of smell, unable to tell how much rose scented perfume I had already marinated in?

I think I'm already walking slower. My knees hurt, my back aches, I'm pretty sure I have arthritis in my right pinky finger. If I was a person who wore make-up every day, I'd have racoon eyes by now. I don't want to grow old. I mean to say, I want to go on living. I want to see my kids grow and achieve all that they were meant to. Heck, I'd like to see my next 60 birthdays. I just don't want to look the part.

The real problem I have with all of this, is that I have no real reason at all to complain. I have nothing to be sorry for. I've got my health. I've got my family. I have my God, who is responsible for all of it. And yet I'm going to complain because I was allowed to live a mere 40 years?

I will consider myself lucky to see Terrific Tuesday.

Someone To Tell It To

Miles Franklin said it best - "Someone to tell it to is one of the fundamental needs of human beings."

For those wondering, Miles Franklin was not a man. She was a female writer and a feminist from Australia. She lead a really remarkable life. Though I've really only read one of her works, All That Swagger, I thought her worth mentioning since I wanted to borrow that quote.

And why did I want to borrow that quote, you may ask (all 9 of you faithful readers - ha)? I could start this answer out by saying 'long story short' but since most of you know me and know that it's quite impossible to apply the brakes to a story once I begin, this likely won't be short.

An indispensable need I have as a writer, or rather a wanna-be writer, is to write something down, put into words some of the crazy ideas that pop into my head on a daily basis. Some may dub this creativity; I've always felt it bordered on insanity, much like when I heard conversations in my head every time I brushed my teeth growing up. I didn't know at the time that this was merely my muse. Had I only written down some of what I thought of in those days, I could be rich! Or committed, whichever you choose. Now a days when I brush my teeth, I find myself checking out my wrinkles in the mirror or counting gray hairs. Who wants to hear about that, right?

But oh if I could just put into words the scenarios that run through my head where I find myself instantaneously filled with mirth (that means funny sh*t...if you go look it up Becky...you'll likely not feel compelled to come back- stay with me here)! I've tried to write about subjects, experiences, even just jot down anecdotes about daily incidents that have caused me to LOL or ROTFL or LMAO, because it's almost always a disappointment once seen in the written form.

That's how I felt when I first came across this quote and felt the need to "ponder" it. Actually, that's just a fancy way to say what really popped into my head which was "Hmmmmm?"

With technology being what it is today, it's very easy for humans to substitute human companionship with what they find on television, the computer, their cellphones, among other innovations that occupy our minds in place of 'you' and 'me.'

Basically, that quote, though I just ran across it recently, is the very reason I started this blog. I just wanted to get my "stuff" into written form because how do you really "tell" anybody your daily thoughts in conversation form? You can't, because most people don't really listen well, or rather, they listen for you to come to a stopping place so that they can interject their own thoughts. Very often, this kind of interuption is what makes us not finish a story, a thought, or a phrase.

You are reading this today, probably because I know you (I apologize in advance if you happened here by accident), but more importantly because I chose you...to listen...and at one point in my life, I have most likely needed you.

You can run, but you can't slide....

Yes, Allie the dog was at it again! This time, I was injured in the process and not just my impervious pride.

It seems that wild animals pass through our property at all times during the night. I don't know what kind of wild animals, other than deer (which I've seen), moles (which I've seen evidence of and quite possibly Stanley (cat) had one in his mouth one day) and apparently - armadillo's. The latter of which is to be partly blamed for my most recent bruises (physically and ego-ally -?).

A few nights ago (night being a relative term as it was more like 3:30 a.m.) Allie was on one of her barking rants so of course, Sam joined in. There is no sleeping during these duets and the quickest way to dispense of the noise is to let them outside. Who lets them out (me or Alan) depends mostly on who can pretend to still be sleeping the longest; didn't everyone play this game when their children were babies? Maybe that's just us...anyway, I digress. I ended up giving in to the high pitched barks and stomped into the living room to let them out. Because the dog run is so far from the house, we have a chain that we will put Allie on (because otherwise she runs...and just runs...so nuff said) for these short stints to do her duties. However, because their was an underlying motivation for their wanting out, the chain would have to wait - because Allie had no patience. Though I had hold of her collar, as soon as I opened the door, she took off like like a, well, like a crazy dog!! And, to make matters worse....since I know what happens when she runs...I refused to let go of her collar (at first) and so I was dragged along for the ride - flat on my face and out the door.
It wasn't a cold night, even though it's November, so of course - I was in me 'skivvies'. My fingers were (temporarily) squished in Allie's collar, but I quickly let go when I realized I needed my hands to break my fall as well as to stop the bleeding on my shins (they were scraped across the door jamb).

Lucky for us (luck - being another one of those 'relative Burch terms') the object of Allie and Sam's affection was hiding right in the bushes next to the house and Allie didn't run far. In fact, I thought she was digging at a plastic bucket, deep inside the bushes from the sound it was making as she stomped both of her feet to the ground. Who knew that Armadillo's roll up into a protective ball when they are scared?

Since Allie had only made it as far as the bushes, I was able to use the closes thing to the door (a mop) to hook her collar and drag her out. All the while, Alan is hollering from the bedroom "What is all that noise???"
I yelled "Allie got loose and I'm hurt really bad..."
His reply "Dang it....now I gotta chase her...."
...No...no - I'm fine really....AND I already caught her, so you just go right back to sleep. . . . .Oy!

Needless to say, I've got bruises on my legs (thighs, hips and shins) and my fingers lost some skin...but I'm happy to report that the Armadillo and Allie are just fine. . . .

Running Down a Dream

My three best friends and I recently attended a Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers Concert in The Woodland's Texas - the last concert of his 2008 tour. In my reflections of the GREAT time that we had, I got to thinking (something that will have all three of these same friends groaning....). Who really is Tom Petty's biggest fan? So, I think if you can answer any of the following, you might just be Tom Petty's biggest fan.





You Might be Tom Petty's Biggest Fan if:

1. You have over 270 of his greatest hits on your I-pod


2. You know the set list of all his concerts


3. You know his biography, probably better than he knows himself


4. You know that Johnny Depp appeared in his 1991 music video, "Into the Great Wide Open"


5. You know his date and year of birth


6. You know that Tom is ranked number 9 on rock.com's top 25 solo rock artists of all time.


7. You know that "Free Falling" is ranked number 82 on rock.com's top 500 classic rock songs of all time.


8. You know his character on "King of the Hill" is named Lucky


9. You know the names of his two daughters


10. You can name the artists for whom Tom played back-up guitar and/or vocals on their albums


11. You can name all the instruments that Tom can play and which songs he plays them


12. You can name all the previous names of his current band, the Heartbreakers, as well as original members, et. al.


13. You know that Tom talked Benmont Tench, Jr. into letting his son, Benmont Tench III drop out of college to join his band.


14. If you know that screaming "Whoooo - Tom Petty" and high-fiving every stranger you meet DOES NOT make you Tom Petty's number one fan.





I have determined, through non-funded research, that my friend Cathy Littleton is most likely THE MOST knowledgable person on Tom Petty to ever hit the streets, and she loves the man more than anyone else I know (and I know A LOT of people). She may not know who "made the pizza'' in the Travelling Wilburys DVD, released in 2007, but it has been determined, through additional research, that no one but ONE person in the whole world gives a rats ass about that fact.





Some other things my recent "research" has led me to think about: