Thug Life

Murder trials with a touch of gang violence are fun. Except when you misjudge what stage the trial is in and accidentally sit on the defendant's side and get surrounded by gang bangers (apparently that's the proper term for homies in a gang). Frieda and I did that yesterday. I turned my ID badge around so none of them could Google me and come kill me. Then I wondered if gangsters knew how to use the internet because one attorney in our unit joked that gangsters can't read. When more and more members of this gang kept coming in the courtroom, the judge ordered more bailiffs. That didn't really help Frieda and I because we were literally pinned up against the wall surrounded by thugs. We did get out alive and no one has come to rape or murder me so I'm thinking I'm good to go. I'm considering joining a gang. I'm thug enough.

McProsecutor is trying a kiddie case next week and I'm so excited to watch. This is the first case he's tried all summer. Rumor has it that his mother might come cheer him on. Adorable? Yes.

The Story of the Magic Boxes

Once upon a time, in not-so-far-away Courthouse Castle, there sat six magical boxes with three in each row. Those who entered these magical boxes were instantly (well, sometimes) taken away to their destination of choice. But, something strange would happen to special people when they stepped into one of the boxes.

You see, these special people were in Courthouse Castle for an important reason: they were paying for the crimes they had committed. While this isn't necessarily a glamorous reason for being in Courthouse Castle, these special people must ride the magic boxes to their final destinations.

The magic boxes are activated by brightly lit buttons that are typically pressed by the people in need of being taken from place to place in Courthouse Castle. However, after the special people board the magic boxes, they expect it to take them exactly where they need to go. Once they arrive at the floor they need (or pretty much on any floor), a look of extreme surprise crosses their face at where they have arrived. Other times, the special people stare at you like you're supposed to know where they are supposed to go and then ask you if they can get off on your floor, which happens to be a floor with no courtrooms at all. Or, these special people walk onto the magic box and proceed to get angry with you because they got on the magic box that is going up instead of down or vice versa.

Today was a special day, for this lowly peasant intern rode in a magic box with the King of Courthouse Castle (aka the Boss Boss, the District Attorney). 'Twas fate, it was. For this intern had mistakenly exited the magic box onto the wrong floor and had to wait for another magic box to pick her up and take her up two more floors. This intern was lucky, for this magic box's steel jaws opened to reveal the Boss Boss, who started to walk out of the magic box only to realize he was not on the floor he wanted to be on. Laughing, the Boss Boss joked with this intern about wanting to get out whenever the little bells chimed.

So, the King of Courthouse Castle and the lowly peasant joked and talked for the next 45 seconds until they reached their final destination. Then the intern was hired four years later after she completed law school.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Lame.

I've been in one place for far too long. I'm bored with life. I need to go on a trip somewhere really soon or I'll probably self-combust.

Reason #83467 Why I Love Texas

My best girlfriend from high school lives in College Station, Texas (where the, um, infamous Texas A&M is located). Apparently there are tornadoes going through College Station right at this moment and here's what she texts me:

Aggie Friend: Omg me Emily and Misty and 2 dogs and poor Phoebe [the cat] are sitting in my bathroom because there are tornadoes the next street over

Me: Ahhh!! Oh no! At least y'all are in a safe place!

Aggie Friend: Don't worry, we just got beer

A Tale as Old as Time

One of my favorite things about working at the DA's office is listening to war stories. One such gem was told to me by my boss on Friday about a prostitution case he tried a few years ago...

My boss put a witness with slightly questionable morals on the stand. There had been rumors about this woman participating in some not so appropriate acts with a 14 year old boy and it was time for the defense counsel to cross.

Defense: What time did this happen?

Witness: I don't know.

Defense, louder this time: What time did this happen??

Witness: I don't know.

Defense, yelling: WHAT TIME DID THIS HAPPEN?!

Witness starts laughing hysterically.

Defense: A man's life is on the line here, tell me what is so damn funny!!!

Witness, still laughing: They ain't got no clocks in the crack house!

Apparently that comment got everyone in the court room giggling--the jury, the attorneys, the bailiffs, and the judge himself who could've been "a hundred and seven years old" according to my boss.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

I was so excited to see this movie and was--unfortunately--left less than satisfied. Half the time I was wondering why JK Rowling thought that was a good route to go. Now, you could call me overly obsessed an expert. (Cue the nerd within.) I've read the books all at least four times, took a literature class on Harry Potter and the Hero Myth my freshman year of college, had Mugglenet as my homepage for about a year, bought books predicting what would happen in the next book, and well, you get the picture. The point is, this movie is probably my least favorite Harry Potter movie, which totally blows because the book is so good and gives you so much insight into the worlds of a younger Voldemort and present day Harry. I'm pretty bummed. Maybe it'll grow on me over the next few times I see it.

Frieda didn't end up trying the circus case because it pled. Booooooo. However, I need to start abstaining from the courthouse elevators. In the past two days I've ended up riding the elevator alone with McProsecutor four times (an additional two times included other people as well). Then, after taking a field trip to the clerk's office, I step into the elevator only to find my former boss, a defense attorney, hanging out with another defense attorney--both in their seersucker suits. We all laughed because I was also wearing a seersucker suit. They were all the same colors. We matched. My former boss proceeded to tell the other defense attorney that I got my style from him. How cute are we?

If you haven't heard, there was a shooting a few blocks from the Capitol building in DC this afternoon. All of the Senate entrances were closed, as were the Senate office buildings. Boy was in the Hart office building at the time and was on lock down for two hours. Dun dun dunnn! Intense. The would-be defendant ended up being fatally shot by Capitol Police after pulling a gun on them. Not a smart move. More here.

Twitter

I joined Twitter today. I really don't have any desire to create mini Facebook statuses all the time since I rarely put one up anyway. Plus, people would probably get sick of all of my "tweets" being about how much I hate the moronic side of humanity.

So, I'm just going to follow people, primarily politicians so I can stay in the loop. Maybe I should've joined Loopt? Is that even the correct social networking site I'm thinking of?

Anyway, Frieda gets to try her first case tomorrow! Hooray for bar cards! It should be another circus. I'm so excited.

(I also seem to have issues with brevity--I just can't condense my life into less than 140 characters.)

Longest Day Ever

Today was the longest day ever at work. The attorneys had checked out after one of our high profile defendants pled at 10:00 this morning. So then we had 6 hours and 45 minutes to kill work hard to earn a relaxing weekend. Then around 3:00, a woman jumped out of a 7th floor window that you could see out of McProsecutor's office. It was exciting for about 15 minutes after that.

Two of the prosecutors in our unit have started calling us--the interns--"The Thundercats." We're not entirely sure why. We think it has something to do with the appearance that the three of us are, in the words of High School Musical, "all in this together." We leave at the same time, we go to lunch and around the courthouse together... We're a team. Woo! Go State!

But it's the weekend now, and I'm trying to rally some people to go get drinks. It's not working out too well considering the boy has officially moved to DC until December and the rest of my friends are currently out of town. Alpha Gay is back from Europe but he's citing jet lag as his excuse for not wanting to go play. Lesson of the day: Move to a fun city. This one sucks.

Another Stereotypical Intern Story

Frieda (the other girl intern in our unit) and I got stuck in the elevator yesterday. We rode from the 9th floor to the 6th floor of the courthouse and when we arrived at the 6th floor, the doors opened up about four inches. Since the elevators in the courthouse suck all the time, we tried the usual methods of getting the doors to open. Those seemingly tried and true methods failed us entirely. But thank God for jury duty because four prospective jurors grabbed hold of the elevator doors and pried them apart a few inches so Frieda and I could get out to safety.

When we told him, the Chief Prosecutor in our unit simply shook his head and said through laughter, "Jesus Christ, my interns are brilliant as shit. Good thing we don't pay y'all."

Respect My Authorateh

I was watching a DWI trial today because the defendant was being represented by a famed defense attorney in the area. The two cops who pulled over the defendant came into the courtroom to be sworn in by they judge. Ordinarily, I would've zoned out during this part, but I thought these cops were hilarious.

They were in the darkest but shiniest navy uniforms with the most sparkling of buttons, name tags, pins, and badges. Their flashlights banged against their guns in the most melodious fashion and you could probably see your reflection in their shaved heads as well as you could in their mirror-like handcuffs. They were huge guys, both between 6'2" and 6'7" and were ripped. They looked the exact same with the exception of their height.

If I had been the defense attorney I would've asked if it was a requirement of the department to look like clones. They looked ridiculous.

Birthday Extravaganza

Monday was my birthday. My present from the boy was a hotel room at The Driskill and a night on 6th Street. Apparently it's supposed to be haunted. Awesome. I didn't find out about that until I Googled the hotel's link. Haunted places scare me. Good thing I found out after I stayed there or I probably would've freaked out a little.

Anyway! My birthday was epic. I pretty much died from all of the free shots and drinks but it was totally worth it. It was the day leading up to 6th Street that was just my luck.

My car started to break down on my way to the courthouse Monday morning. My sister had to bring my dad's Suburban for me to drive while my dad got my car towed to the dealership. Then, on the way to Austin, I got to Georgetown (which is roughly 30 minutes from Austin) and the Suburban started to go haywire. The RPM needle kept going up to 4, 5, and 6 while I was trying to accelerate but the speedometer said I was decelerating. Then a cute little message popped up on the dashboard saying, "TRANSMISSION HOT" right as I noticed a gas-like smell. Great. What's even better is that all of this happened right across from a Chevy dealership. Life has a cruel sense of humor.

So, I had to wait an hour for the boy to come get me from the Chevy dealership. It was all fun and games after that (until I got to the airport and my flight was delayed an hour). It was a chaotic birthday but definitely one of the best.