"Rough" day in Crime

I'm a criminal prosecutor, but what I do cannot be summed up in only two words. I had a chance to explain my job to a 12 year old victim of crime today. In our office, we keep photos of past crime victims we've represented with the attorneys that handled their cases. As he browsed, I told him this: none of these people hired us to represent them. None of my clients ask me to file lawsuits for them or sue anyone. Not one of the people that I speak for ever asked to be involved with the courts. They are "victims."* They are the people that someone else chose to exploit, and they didn't have a choice in the matter.

Everyday is different for me. Some days I'm choosing a jury and presenting a case to the "people" I'm supposed to be speaking for. Other days are more mundane: filing papers, returning phone calls, meetings with law enforcement. Today, was one of the most stressful, depressing, rewarding days that I can remember. I worked from 8am to 5:30 pm without a lunch break. A lot of that was just waiting. A lot of that was small talk with the family of the 12 year old I mentioned before.

I lost today. Not a trial, but the motion I filed with the court on behalf of my child victim. I lost, but it didn't feel like a loss.

Sometimes, the most important thing I can do is let the "victim" know that I'm still here. That he's not in this alone.  Let the perpetrator know that I'm still here. He can't continue to do what he wants without consequences. That I will speak when others can't. That - win or lose- he'll have to answer for his actions.

Today I got to sit across the table from one of the smartest, most optimistic, well-rounded children (not just victims of crime, but all children) I have ever known. Today I demonstrated to him that I care for him and what happens in his life. Today he learned that the courts will listen and treat him like a human being even when there is nothing they can actually do. I have never been prouder to lose.


* Many people prefer the term "survivor." All victims are targeted by other individuals, and all choose their own destinies after that happens. I continue to use victim in quotation marks to highlight the distinction. 

The Art of the Autograph

For the most part, I think getting autographs is weird. It’s just bizarre to me to want someone else to write their name, and then cherish that writing. In the past year, though, this has started to change a little bit. First, I went to Comic-Con International in San Diego last July. The experience is mind-blowing, and I recommend it to anyone. There are so many amazing people, and the celebrities are (almost) just as accessible as your fellow attendees. When you’re confronted with someone that you know from television, movies, comic books, etc., you can’t help but want some sort of memento. It’s awesome to take your picture with someone that you know, but that’s not always an option depending on the context of the conversation. After going to SDCC’10, I’ve started branching out to other geeky events, mostly for the opportunity to reminisce about my favorite (now cancelled show) Heroes. Because the show is cancelled, I need to have something to hold in my hands to commemorate the event.

The alternate (or supplement) to the photo with a celeb is the autograph. Almost always, the opportunity for an autograph is available. More than that, it actually provides an icebreaker to the conversation that a photo-op does not. Think about it, you see a celeb and want a photo with him/her. What do you do? You approach celeb, tell him/her what a huge fan you are, and ask for a photo. The photo is taken and you thank celeb and go your separate ways. With autographs it’s different. Add that to the fact that you will have a physical souvenir to the meeting of your celebrity, and the autograph is sort of perfect. Even if it is still a little weird.

Mind you, my experience getting autographs is at dedicated autograph booths for actors. In that setting, the celebrity expects you to want an autograph (duh), so it’s not awkward to ask. They have to be nice to you because you’re paying them. You also get a choice of photos from one of the celeb’s various works, which spurs a conversation with the artist about his/her different roles. I recently met Ray Park and had him sign a photo of him from Heroes. We talked about the show, his role, the cancellation. :( He was very gracious and personable. A real stand-up guy. UPDATE: Blog of this meeting can now be found at Red Dot Diva's blog here.

My experience with Mark Sheppard was very different. He was still gracious and personable. Believe me, I would never say a bad word against Mark Sheppard. Ever. The problem is that he is in too many things that I like. That’s a self-made problem, since I watch shows solely because he’s in them. It’s a vicious cycle. But I had a really hard time picking out a photo for him to sign. My friend Maxii had already picked a photo from Supernatural, so we discussed his role on the show (and his return in the next season) at great length. He was chatty. Which was great, because Maxii and I were both ogling him wordlessly. I ended up picking the Supernatural photo too, not because Crowley is my favorite of his roles, but because that was my favorite of the pictures he offered. He also had a Leverage photo, though, and it gave me the opportunity to ask him about that role. He was happy to discuss it and Sterling’s return to the show season-after-next (which is “next season” at the time of this writing). More on my Mark Sheppard experience can be found here.

One of my favorite autographs comes from another Heroes duo, Todd Stashwick (“Eli”) and Dennis Calero (a graphic novel author). They are collaborating on a web-based graphic novel (non-Heroes) and had a booth established at Comic-Con. Their webcomic can be found at www.toddstashwick.com. What makes this autograph unique was that it was not written on a photo. Dennis actually drew a picture of Jack Springheel, their comic’s antihero, and both Dennis and Todd signed it. The page is about the size of a trading card, but it’s very dear to me.

The last autograph I own is, again, from a Heroes veteran. David H. Lawrence XVII has to have been the most social, grateful, personable person that I’ve met to date. He actually became a little confrontational with SDCC staff when they tried to move Maxii and me along, telling him that we were there to see him and he’d talk to us as long as he wanted. He signed Doyle photos for both of us with cute little messages and was the one that suggested we each take a picture with him. He was sweet, outgoing, and genuinely a nice a guy.

Each of my autographs is more than just a name on a photo. For each of my meetings with the subject celebrities, I have a memory that is intimately tied to the artist’s signature. I may feel a little strange for owning people’s signatures, but the sentimental value more than makes up for it.

I've created a new subculture. It shall be called... PUNK NERD.

Mostly nerd.

I don't think I need to re-describe my love for Billy Idol to anyone who's actually reading this blog. My love for Billy is lasting, unfaltering, and sadly, unrequited. When I saw him perform live in Dallas in August, I nearly quit my job and followed him on tour. I mean I seriously thought about it.

I didn't follow him on tour, but that doesn't mean that I can't keep a little piece of Billy with me, to keep me warm at night. From me, to me, and in the spirit of Billy, I bought myself a little gift.

My Billy Idol punk glove isn't exactly like Billy's.... And I can't quite snarl like him...

I promise to never make this face again.

I was hoping my gloves would come in the mail all weekend. They didn't, and I had to anticipate their arrival at work all day. Yes, there are two of them. They came as a pair. Billy only ever wears one, so I'll only ever wear one. Like a good groupie. But at least I'll have a backup when one of them gets old and starts falling apart.

Needless to say, once I got the gloves on I danced around all giddily and immediately had to take pictures. I knew I was going to write about them as soon as I bought them. Waiting was the hardest part. I'm wearing them to work tomorrow.

Still hot.

Blast from the past

I had the interesting experience of talking to someone who interviewed me for a job over a year ago.

At my current job, I have a client who was wrongfully garnished by a hospital. I have been working for - literally - months to get this money returned to my client. I have opened an internal case file with the hospital, escalated that case file, and waited the required amount of time. I have talked to their collections, finance, accounts payable, customer service, and legal departments. I have spoken with various other people and everyone transfers me to someone else. It's been a nightmare.

I thought to myself "I think I've talked to every person who works for this hospital by now." Then I had that epiphany moment. I went home and dug up the business card for the guy that interviewed me (in the REGIONAL COUNSEL office *facepalm*) and I gave him a call. I don't want to be too hopeful, but I think he's going to help me resolve this pretty soon.

The shocker is that, even though it's been over a year, he actually remembered me. Since he didn't offer me the job, it makes me wonder if that's good or bad...

I Guess You're Just What I Needed

There’s a new edition in my family. Just brought her home last weekend. I’m not used to being in charge of anything important, so the responsibility is really scary to me. I’m completely afraid of doing something wrong and permanently hurting her. She’s here to stay so the thought that I can do lasting damage is terrifying.

I’m talking about my brand new…used…2008 Honda Civic.

(Besides Vicidius) She’s the nicest thing I’ve ever owned. The last car I had—a 1999 Chevy Cavalier—was nice at first, but time took its toll. In the past year, she’s been rear-ended, had her clutch replaced, then the entire clutch system, a wheel fell off, and the bad front-end alignment has forced me to replace at least 4 tires (and a stud/lug nut). The air conditioning went out two years ago, and in Texas during the summer that’s just brutal. I can’t remember the last time the gas gauge worked. For the longest time, I’ve just refilled my gas tank whenever I had driven 300 miles. More recently, the latch on the trunk stopped working. So if I need in the trunk (say to change my tire on the way to a Billy Idol concert), I’ve had to crawl into it through the backseat, which opens up. Also, the fuse that powers the lighter/plug-in burned out. That’s minor, but on top of everything else it just shows you how broke down my car has gotten.

So my new baby is a very welcome change. The only question now is what to name her. I never named my Cavalier, which makes me sad. We had good times and she deserved a name. I was always sure that one day something would come to me, but it never happened. I don’t want to make that mistake with my new car.

I’m partial to naming her after a song title. A good ballad just seems to fit a car. And I came really, realllly close to naming her “Angie,” after the Rolling Stones song. Angie is a car’s name. I put this out on Twitter, and @LanceMazmanian recommended a book to me that tells a story about the song. I have looked for this book at one book store and the public library without any luck. The Internet tells me it’s a pretty typical breakup love song, but I’m nervous about there being unknown undertones to my car’s name.

This became a moot point, however, when I decided I wanted to name her after a song by a Texas band. I’ve got state pride, what can I say. A lot of great musicians come from Texas, and I’m still looking for that perfect fit. I perused song titles by Janis Joplin, the Toadies, ZZ Top, Steve Miller Band (a Texas/Wisconsin hybrid). Nothing has struck a chord just yet. I’m taking suggestions. I would have named my car Janis in a heartbeat, except that’s my mother’s name (different spelling). Feels weird to name my car after my mom.

One thing: while I was reading the song lyrics to “Angie,” I realized it’s exactly how I feel about my Cavalier. I love that previously-unnamed hunk of metal and I’m really going to miss her. But ain’t it time we said goodbye?

R.I.P. Angie

Billy Idol!

I went to a Billy Idol concert earlier this week. I had an amazing time and describe the actual concert on a different blog, here. This post is a bit more personal, and describes my impressions of the overall experience from the point of finding out about the concert through today.

Actually getting to the concert was a huge ordeal. I didn't even know about it until the day before, so there wasn’t much time to plan. I went back and forth with myself on whether I even wanted to go. It was $50 for the tickets, $10 for the parking, plus whatever I needed for gas and drinks. It was on a Tuesday night about three hours away from where I lived. I knew I couldn’t find a friend to go with me on such short notice, especially with the money, timing, driving factors so I was facing it alone. I talked myself out of going Monday night, but somehow when I got to work on Tuesday morning I just knew in my heart of hearts that I was going to go. I had made the final decision after I had stopped even thinking about it. Unfortunately, tickets weren’t available online anymore. I called the box office and the nice man in the recording told me that tickets were still available at the door. I was banking on that still being true several hours later when I actually arrived at the Palladium Ballroom.

I left work running at promptly 5:00 p.m. and went home to change my clothes. I already knew it was going to be a stretch to make it on time. I made it out of my house by 5:30 and had exactly three hours to get to Dallas. Google Maps says this is a 2 hour 30 minute drive without traffic. I still needed to stop to get cash and gas, find parking at the venue, and buy my ticket.

After I had been driving about 40 minutes, I got a flat tire. Actually, it wasn’t flat. The tread had split open, but it was holding air. Even so, there was no way I was going to make it to Dallas on that. I changed the tire myself (with a little help from a good Samaritan). I was so glad that I had the foresight to bring a t-shirt with me. I brought it so that I could be comfy and not skeevy-feeling on the drive back from the concert, but I wore it over my clothes while I changed the tire so that I wouldn’t get dirty.

I drove to my parents’ house in Waco and switched cars with my mother. I’m not sure she wanted to lend me her car, but she knew that she didn’t have much of a choice. I was going to see Billy Idol, and if I had to drive on the baby tire that I had just put on my car - I would. So she didn’t object to me taking hers, and I floored it to Dallas. I stopped at an ATM and was still on pace to arrive at the venue exactly on time.

When I got to Dallas, the exit I was supposed to take didn’t exist. The directions told me to take exit 427C, but the actual exits skipped straight from 425 to 428. I guess my directions were old and some construction was done since Google updated. Bad Google! You will never achieve world domination this way.

I ended up finding the right street, but I was turned around. I stopped for directions at this other events venue when I knew I was close. Then I finally made it to the venue and parked!!

I hoped that Billy, being a rock star, would start late or at least have an opening act. A big no on both counts. Even while I was pulling into the parking lot, I could hear Billy inside singing. It was frustrating and the people in front of me were moving so slow. The guy in the car in front of me had turned into the parking lot accidentally and had to stop and ask an attendant for directions to get out. When I finally parked my car, I literally ran back to the front door. I bought my ticket off a scalper and made him walk me to the door so that I would know the ticket was valid. It worked, then I got carded at the next stop so I could drink alcohol. I swear, that lady was moving slow too. Billy Fucking Idol was singing! Didn’t they know? Didn’t they care?

I made a beeline for the standing room in front of the stage and I never looked back. Never hit the bar, so I didn’t need my stupid age 21+ wrist band anyway. It sucked being sober at the concert, but I wasn’t going to miss another single moment of Billy Idol performing. It worked out, because I had to drive an hour and a half back to my parents’ house. I didn’t really need to be intoxicated and tired for that.

I could have dressed a little more appropriately for the concert. Apparently, Billy was more of a punk goth than anything else. Okay, so I knew that, but I still didn’t really think I need to dress like a motorcycle chick to go to his concert. I wore a shiny, low-cut red tank top with gold beading around the waistline. Everyone else was in their rock’n’roll T-shirts or some kind of grunge garb. They saw me coming. They all had a little tinge of the 80’s that my outfit lacked. I did wear the biggest pair of earrings I own though.

For being a Billy Idol concert, the crowd was really tame. People staked out their position in the floor, and then didn’t really move. I arrived to the concert late and had hoped that with people milling between the floor and the bar, dancing, and just moving around in general, I could make my way forward. That did not happen. I got fairly close, but then there was just a wall of people. Not a shoulder to shoulder wall of people though. Everyone needed their personal space and protected it. I saw a guy almost fight another guy for trying to squeeze past him and get closer to the stage.

Almost fight another guy. No one actually fought. Or danced, head-banged, moshed, etc. It was disappointing. I wanted people to be crazy. I wanted to be crazy. It was Billy Fucking Idol. No dice. Everyone stood in their spaces and maybe swayed a little.

Billy is known for his fist-pumping, so at least there was a lot of that in the crowd. We were invited to fist-pump along with Billy during Mony Mony and Rebel Yell. We did, and it was so much fun. I can’t remember what song it was, but Billy yelled out “put your fist in the air!” and my fist went into the air like it had a mind of its own. I wonder what other of Billy Idol’s commands my body would instinctively obey.

Fist-pumping with Billy

Billy was playing with his original guitarist, Steve Stevens. Way back in the day, Steve left Billy to go play with a different band and try to make it big on his own. He was a successful guitarist, but I can’t say he became a household name. This tour seems to be a sort of reunion for Billy and Steve. Billy really played it up though. Every few songs he’d point over to Steve and scream out “STEVE STEVENS EVERYBODY –YEAHHHH!” Then there were the times when he was introducing the band: the dude on the drums, some other guy named Billy and… STEVE STEVENS!! There were songs where Steve had insanely long complicated guitar solos. There was a session in the middle of the show when every other member of the band left the stage for a good five minutes and Steve played alone.

It got to the point of being annoying.

I hate to sound like I’m dogging his talent. The man was incredibly talented. He shredded the guitar. Killed it. He was Led Zeppelin good. Carlos Santana good. [Your favorite guitarist’s name here] good. I have nothing bad at all to say about Steve Stevens’ guitar-playing ability. I have to give credit where credit is due.

That said, my admission ticket said “Billy Idol,” not Steve Stevens. You’ll notice that in this article (where I learned about the concert), there’s even a blurb devoted to who Steve is and how awesome he is. I think there's something else at work here. Steve is trying to make a comeback or he’s going to strikeout solo or something, and he’s using Billy’s record label as a jumping off platform. Probably on the same record label and they’re paying Billy lots of money to showcase Steve on his tour to build publicity. The Steve Stevens attention was that much over the top.

STEVE STEVENS!

The entire drive back, I listened to the audio recordings that I had made during the concert. I already wanted to see him again. In fact, not a single day has gone by that I haven't looked up his remaining tour dates and tried to figure out if I could afford to go or have the time to drive, etc. Billy Idol is playing in Tunica, Mississippi tonight (August 28) and if I knew anyone that would drive with me I'd be in my car right now. Only 9 and a half hours away.

The concert was the most entertaining, exhilarating, fun thing I have ever done. I went to Comic Con for the first time a month ago, and that was overwhelmingly fun. I’m not sure that the two events are really comparable, but if I had to choose between the two for an encore experience Billy Idol would give Comic Con a run for its money.

How bout them Cowboys!?

I've been a Cowboys fan for longer than I can even remember, so right now I just can't get over attending my first ever LIVE Cowboys game. Even if they did lose. Even if it was only pre-season. My only regret is that I never saw a game in the old Texas Stadium in Irving. :(

I will say this much: the "Party Pass" tickets are NOT worth it. They advertise giving access to one of several "party decks," but in reality, the ticket allows you to stand along a counter one the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th level at the end zones - if there's space. The area are not large at all. There is no seating if you didn't pay for it (read: no restaurant/concession area seating). Basically, you pay $30 to stand behind the regular seating and watch the entire game on one of the big screens. Luckily, after the first quarter the usher in our area let people take seats that weren't already filled.

Now I will pic-spam you.

This is inside the stadium, looking down. You can see the huge big screen TVs hanging over the field. Getting a lot of publicity right now because a kick hit it in the first pre-season game.

Also, notice the Cowboys star isn't at mid-field yet. They're having a ceremony in Game 1 of the regular season where they're going to place it. I wish I could be there for that! (The Ring of Honor, where retired Cowboys are honored, is also not up yet. Not sure when it's going up.)

It's only pre-season, but that didn't stop the fans from coming out. There were 72,171 people in attendence yesterday. It had the same feel as a regular season game.

My family helped build the stadium by purchasing one of their memorial stones. This is places on the walkway around the outside of the stadium. Our stone says "We Live and Die Every Sunday. A XXXXXX Family Tradition." We gave it to our dad for his birthday or Father's Day last year (I can't remember which. I'm a bad daughter.)

Here I am, enjoying the game with my mommy. My sister and I both drew blue stars on our cheek. They looked okay to start with, and by this time it was pretty smudged. lol