(un)professionalism.

attack., originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

pro·fes·sion·al·ism
–noun
1. professional character, spirit, or methods.
2. the standing, practice, or methods of a professional, as distinguished from an amateur.

So recently, The Husband, Esq., had a Equitable Distribution mediation in yet another tedious, though not exceptionally complex, domestic matter... or at least it shouldn't have been all that complicated as The Husband, Esq. had figured on settling the remaining issues in around 3 hours considering that a threesome of experienced, heavy-hitter legal professionals were allegedly working toward a common goal: getting the parties to agree on stuff within the confines of the law.

A mediation, for those who don't know, is a costly process whereby the two parties involved in the matter come together with their attorneys in a common location (though in separate rooms) and a neutral third party attorney 'mediates' (between the parties' rooms) through their respective counsels in attempts to reach an agreement in what is basically a last ditch effort to avoid an even more costly court trial.

The specifics of the matter are mute in this story even if I could tell it; what is important to know is that there's a certain amount of ethics that go into how attorney's behave themselves and rules of conduct and such, like not directly speaking to nor contacting the Opposing Party who you know to be represented by counsel absent of the courtroom and only while they are on the stand. (For Pro Se parties, that is another matter entirely because then you are your own counsel... and we've all heard the phrase, "...fool for a client.") And of course, it goes without saying that as a professional, one is expected to conduct oneself as a professional, play nice, use good manners, and all the other life lessons learned in preschool.

The anticipated 3 hour mediation began around 9-ish... and ended approximately NINE hours later. Hardly a record, but, well, you can imagine the frustration and irritation after spending an entire day arguing with no real break to speak of, not to mention, the heightened emotional state of the parties.

It was near this time of day that the Opposing Counsel was inexplicably compelled to stick her head into The Husband, Esq.'s conference room to fuel the fire and verbally slight The Husband, Esq.'s client. WTF? (Anyone who knows The Husband, Esq. should know that challenge and confrontation doesn't end well.) After a brief exchange, The Husband, Esq. tells her to GET OUT.

Not one to be told what to do, the Opposing Counsel appears yet again in the conference room of The Husband, Esq. with more copies of more last minute changes and revisions that had not been on the table for discussion and commences to pass them out between The Husband, Esq. and his client. Words are exchanged loudly and she is told again to GET OUT.

(Here's the good part...)

At this point, having nothing left in her professional arsenal of assault, this 50-ish Doctor of Jurisprudence / Opposing Counsel resorts to hunching over and waiving her arms and hands wildly about in a creepy spell-casting fashion, not dissimilar to a 12 year old bully mimicking the legendary boogie-man, and in a juvenile taunt exclaims, "Oooooh, Keviiin's getttinnng maaaad!" while backing out of the room like a lunatic... leaving The Husband, Esq. sitting there with his mouth hanging open, utterly dumbfounded and speechless. --A rarity indeed.

Again, W.T.F.? Really???

The good news is that in spite of the antics, the parties somehow managed to settle and The Husband, Esq. had a jolly good time reenacting the episode for his darling wife that evening and his staff the next day.

Of course, my personal fun in all this was coming up with a list of appropriate come-backs:

1. "I know I am but what are you?" (submitted by Alvin)
2. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me."
3. In a Jack Nicholson impression from the classic movie, 'A Few Good Men,' "You can't handle the truth!"
4. "I'm tellin'." (again, Alvin) ...and when all else fails there's always,
5. Placing one's thumbs in each ear while waving fingers and sticking out one's tongue.

Just another fun-filled adventure from your friendly neighborhood law office! ;-)

"No letters after your name are ever going to be a total guarantee of competence any more than they are a guarantee against fraud. Improving competence involves continuing professional development ... That is the really crucial thing, not just passing an examination."

...Colette Bowe

Jabba the sub.

Warning : "Explicit Lyrics" =)

So Monday is a dry, merciless Twat.

This morning started out with the alarm clock not going off because either there is a poltergeist in our house with a bad sense of humor or one of the small, furniture-climbing children turned the volume off, again. In any case, I woke just in time to bolt up-right, panic, rush to wake / change / clean / groom Isabel, and run downstairs to find a message on the machine from the bus driver saying that there would be a sub today at the regular time... No sooner than I had Bell’s sneakers on, I hear the bus pull to a stop outside and begin honking - at 0645. I dash out the door with daughter in tow and scale down that steep-ass cliff that is our drive-way to find Jabba the Hut at the wheel of the school bus. Holy shit.

I mean, I’m not one to throw stones here -- let’s face it, who doesn’t need to shed a few pounds these days? But when the seat belt which barely reaches around your massive carcus is lost in folds of blubber, I’m thinking it’s questionable whether you can perform any duties at all and it’s way past time for a life change. Oh, but let’s not pick on an obscenely obese person for being the size of a Volkswagen when we can skewer her for being a hatefully rude, nasty, disrespectful bitch and all-around miserable human-being...

I approach the bus with a confused look on my face as I see that Isabel’s assigned Transportation Assistant is also not on board but instead a older gentleman with graying hair and a cap. I politely inquire. Jabba yells at me and tells me, “She aint here!” Really, wow, because I thought perhaps that Ms. R. had had a sex change and grew a beard over the weekend? And why I thought it important to indicate to her the specifics of my daughter’s IEP regarding transportation I have no idea except that it was OMG-thirty in the morning and I had yet to have my coffee, but never-the-less I did and the response was more yelling, something to the tune of, “She aint here! It’s not my fault. What do you expect me to do about it? If she aint here, she aint here!” So I tell Jabba that I would just take my daughter to school myself this morning and I thanked her for being so pleasant about it all. Then asked if she would be driving again? And if so, could she please refrain from honking at 0645 in the morning?

“Ma’am, I can’t sit out here for five minutes waitin’ on you!” Jabba barked.

“You were not out here for five minutes,” I corrected Jabba, though what I wanted to say was: Look you fucking bitch, you weren’t out here for five minutes; you were not even out here for two minutes! My hand was on the fucking door knob when you pulled up and started honking your fucking horn. What’s your fucking hurry you inconsiderate cow?!! Is there an ‘all-you-can-eat’ special at Biscuitville this morning? or are you trying to make sure your bus hours don’t cut into your disability check for being the size of a Volkswagen?

But with that she began bitching about not having time for whatever and slammed the bus doors in my face and drove off with the older man standing there with a “WTF?” expression on his face.

Are you kidding me?!!

Needless to say, this little scenario inspired a phone call to Jabba’s supervisor who apologized that I had this ‘experience’ this morning. Fine, whatever; don’t ever send that woman back to my house again. Well what do you want us to do when your regular driver needs to be out? She’s the only sub we have... WHAT? Seriously?!! The only substitute bus driver in all of Wake County? Come on - I drove a school bus in high school and I assure you it’s not brain surgery. Yes, but not every driver is qualified to operate a lift bus. (This is where I started laughing...) IT’S A LEVER! My daughter could operate a lever! --And I am pretty darn certain that there is no way in hell Jabba could fit her enormous body down the bus isle to even get to the lift to begin with assuming she could walk three steps without getting winded and/or giving herself a heart attack. Are you people dropping acid over there? or do you just not give a shit?

So I tell her again, [paraphrasing] not to ever send that miserable bitch back to my house and to call me next time and I’ll take my own child to school... What in the hell makes her think I would put my child - who cannot even speak to tell me if something happens to her - in a vehicle with such a vile, disrespectful, and hateful person?

The supervisor apologizes again for the ‘experience’ and assures me that she will ‘speak’ to Jabba which I took to mean she would inform Jabba of how badly she pissed me off this morning. I mean, she’s the only sub they have right? What are they gonna do, fire her?

Oh, but I am not done yet.

What infuriates me most of all - on behalf of my own child and all of her sweet, simple peers and their dog-ass tired families who have more than enough bullshit to put up with every damn day and are so beat down by the system they think they have no choice and than to have to listen to shit like this from some ignorant, hateful person - is this : if that nasty cow would talk to a mother with her child standing in her own driveway like a damn dog, how in this world does she treat the special education students who ride her bus when no one is around to protect them?

Oh no: Fuck You Jabba! You done messed with the wrong mama!
I am not done with you yet...

"If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we finally die."

...Maya Angelou

'tis the season.

holiday spirit. Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

It seems to me that every year is a roller coaster ride which picks up speed and plunges around mid-November right about grocery shopping time for Thanksgiving. By the time Christmas arrives, I am ready to get off.

Chaos is in the air!

A lot of stuff has been going on lately that I have wanted to blog about, though I've been a bit greedy with my oh-so-scarce "ME time"...

I'll try to hit the highlights and maybe get back around to elaborating, though don't hold your breath - the coaster just dropped:

• Kevin and I finally signed up and went through the entire process of acquiring life insurance to include mounds of paperwork, interviews, and peeing in cups.
• Recently, the younger brother of a dear ole kindergarten pal went Homeless for the Holidays, living in his car for a week in downtown Raleigh to help raise awareness of the growing issue of homelessness in the community.
• I've been shooting a lot lately and have worked with some fantastic models (Danielle, Sonia, Joanna, and Christine) as well as my uber-talented fellow photographers, Rob Miracle and Tom Winstead.
• Liam recently tested for his High-Green belt in Tae Kwon Do and was awarded the rank of 11th Gup.
• And I have called a pre-IEP meeting with WCPSS for Isabel's services scheduled for December 16th to uhm, shall we say, poke the hornet's nest...

That may not seem like a long nor overwhelming list of stuff but add in 40-60 hour work weeks complete with daily crazy calls, deadlines, and dramatic emergencies from our usual suspects; over due doctor visits, forgotten appointments, grocery and holiday shopping, more little kid birthday parties, the regular array of miscellaneous errands; cleaning the house, clothes, dishes and making sure everyone is fed; more car problems, chronic back pain, a mile long list of overdue email responses, tantrums, and picking up little pieces of shredded paper from all over the house, etc., etc., etc...

This past Saturday our day looked something like this:

0800 Be awakened by small child; make coffee.
0815 Feed small child.
0830 Wake other child; feed.
0845 Dress children.
0900 Miss Kim arrives (Bless her!)
0910 Leave house late with two cars and one fed and dressed child.
0925 Jeep begins making a very loud grinding metal sound.
0930 Belt testing at Tae Kwon Do.
1030-1130 Special Needs Arts and Craft class at Library for Bell.
1030-1230 Four-year-old birthday party for preschool friend at Old McDonald's for Liam.
1045 Water pump goes out on Jeep.
1100 Photo shoot at my new "studio," a.k.a. The Law Firm's conference room.
1100-1130 Fellow photographers arrive; set up for shoot.
1110 Call mechanic.
1115 Call AAA.
1130-1230 Models 1 and 2 arrive; make up artist arrives.
1230 Jeep towed to mechanic.
1400-ish SNOW! =)
1630 Wrap up / clean up shoot; return office to order.
1650 Get ride over to mechanic to pick up Jeep and deposit a check for $333.00 in drop box.
1700 Drive home in snow.
1720 Collect children and husband and drive back to Tae Kwon Do, late again.
1730-2000 Belt presentation ceremonies, martial arts show, and pot luck reception.
2030 Dinner at North Ridge Pub.
2130 Home. Exhausted. Change children and put to bed without brushing teeth.
2200-0130 Load / process / edit a few of the 600+ photographs taken that day and email to models / make up artist.
0130 Take Ibuprofen and muscle relaxer. Crawl in bed and DIE.

the downside. Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

Just shoot me.

"Chaos is the score upon which reality is written."

...Henry Miller

Oktober.

20071013_035z.jpg
Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

October has always been one of my most favorite months of the year. It's when the weather actually begins to cool off and the beautiful fall foliage blossoms. When being outdoors is its most pleasurable and when I feel rejuvenated, alive, and most content. When pumpkins spring up on doorsteps awaiting Halloween... I always loved October.

Until now.

This year, October has been the month from HELL. Bubbling over with chaos, drama, fatigue, tantrums, whiny complaining neighbors, bullshit, over-due bills and overdrawn bank accounts, things breaking down, going wrong, and general mayhem. Everything that is screwed-up, shitty, irritating, annoying, bad, rotten, chaotic, stressful, overwhelming, exhausting, depressing, infuriating, and homicide-provoking has come together for a big fall festival to reek havoc and play the devil in our lives. And it has spread like smallpox infecting both home and work, swallowing us up like a title-wave of shit.

Holy hell.

What on earth did I do to piss October off? October has betrayed me. October turned on me and stabbed me in the back like some narcissistic predator leaving me lying in the gutter as it strolls onward into November without a care in the world. October is not my friend.

Oh no, October is no friend of mine.

"October is nature's funeral month. Nature glories in death more than in life. The month of departure is more beautiful than the month of coming - October than May. Every green thing loves to die in bright colors."

...Henry Ward Beecher

chinny chin chin.

43:365 | hair.
Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

Okay, I know I'm getting old and quite frankly it sucks. --If the aches, pains, slowed metabolism, wrinkles, and failing eyesight (and memory) wasn't a clue, well, I don't know what would be. And we've all heard the complaints of those who have braved this territory before us enough to know that it's par for the course, haven't we?

But what I find most irritating of all is abundant presence of wild, unruly random chin hairs! WTF?

Okay, granted, I couldn't earn a living as a bearded-lady carnie or anything (I mean exaggeration does have comedic value here), but holy hell, it seems like I pluck those little bastards every day and like a magic paper towel dispenser that never needs refilling - ka-ching! - a new one pops out right in its place by the end of the day. Grrrr.

I was never one of those freakish women who's beauty was enhanced with a "heavenly pregnancy glow" and I think at this point I may as well just accept defeat in the "aging gracefully" category as well and pick up an extra pair of tweezers for my purse.

"Old age is far more than white hair, wrinkles, the feeling that it is too late and the game finished, that the stage belongs to the rising generations. The true evil is not the weakening of the body, but the indifference of the soul."

...Andr

mess makers.

mess makers., originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

Yet another example of why my house is a wreck...

Here we have my two feral children engaged in water play... and happily flooding the guest bathroom by clogging the sink with toilet paper and my son's feet.

...Wall paintings were askew, an inch of standing water on the floor and in the bathroom rug, a role of toilet paper lost to the flood waters, the hand soap dispenser empty (I have yet to find the top), clothing soaked, and Vaseline and butt cream in their hair.

Sigh.

"Even though your kids will consistently do the exact opposite of what you're telling them to do, you have to keep loving them just as much."

...Bill Cosby

hear me ROAR.

comparing eggs.
Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

A parent's job is to raise their children to become kind, compassionate, and considerate little souls with good manners who will hopefully grow up to be well-rounded, successful, productive people striving to make a positive difference in the world. Easier said than done. Sometimes we just have to do the very best that we can and hope against all hope that something sticks.

And above all else, our job as parents is to protect our little ones from negative influences and other people who do not have their best interests at heart or otherwise just suck.

I've been told that I can, at times, be aggressive and intimidating and I suppose it is true. But keep in mind that in raising a child with special needs, I have spent twelve plus years of fighting and lobbying the system, countless hours in IEP meetings, and being (for more than half of my daughter's life) her sole provider and biggest advocate... so I am now wired that way. It's what I know, it's what I do, and it's who I am.

This past week, something happened at my son's daycare which provoked my inner proverbial "mother lion"... Those who know me, know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when it comes to someone I love, namely my children, I am not one to turn the other cheek...

Wednesday morning, when we arrived at Liam's daycare, he insisted upon taking his Chick-Fil-A kids' meal book to class to share with his friends... I began by trying to explain that it wasn't "Show and Tell" day but then realizing that this was a teaching moment in sharing and giving (not to mention, an opportunity to unload one more insignificant item cluttering up my car), I quickly changed my tune and suggested that perhaps we could donate the little book to his class and all his friends could read it anytime they wanted to while at school. Liam was happy with this idea and was very pleased and proud about this generous gift. Yay!

Upon entering his classroom, I explained to the teacher that Liam wanted to give his book to the class. "Oh thank you Liam. That's very nice of you. Go put it on the shelf." Liam beamed.

Fast forward to that afternoon... Kevin picked Liam up from school and en route to his Taekwondo lesson, was told some very disturbing news... His teacher, Ms. T., had thrown his book in the trash. WTF?

Because he was running around with the book, not listening as three-year-olds are prone to do, Ms. T. took the book from Liam and in front of him and all his friends, threw the book in the trash to punish him. He said that it hurt his feelings and he cried and cried...

Okay sure, it was a cheap little kids' meal book of no monetary value, but that is totally beside the point. It was important to a little boy who thought he was doing a good thing by bringing it and giving it to the school to share with his friends. Whether or not a child is behaving does not make it appropriate to purposefully hurt their feelings and embarrass them in front of their friends! What in the world is wrong with you?!!

Have I thrown away cheap and broken toys before? Sure, every chance I get, otherwise we would be swimming in cheap plastic junk. But NEVER in front of my child (I wait until he is asleep and has forgotten about it). And if he's misbehaving, then yes, toys get taken away but they're put on a shelf and he understands that he is being punished and when he learns to play nice, he gets it back.

What upsets me most is that my son is truly a very sweet and loving child. Granted he can be an obstinate handful at times, but he is genuinely a giving little person, shares well, and is as considerate as a child his age could be. He loves to make other people happy. The very idea that he took a cruel and unnecessary blow to his self-esteem and had his feelings crushed due to the misguided, inexcusable actions from an authoritative adult who is supposed to be his role model and teacher unnerves me to no end.

There is NO EXCUSE for being mean to a small child.

Thursday morning, both Kevin and I had a chat with the director. There were other issues that needed to be raised as well, and have been, by other parents. But this was, for me, the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. The director indicated that she was arranging training for the teacher as she is inexperienced... There is no amount of training nor experience, as I explained, that can instill in someone the instinct to nurture and be genuinely kind.

Most of us (myself included) recognize that we are not equipped with infinite patience and therefore it is not productive nor healthy to choose a profession which requires forty hours a week's worth of exposure to energetic, rambunctious young people who need constant supervision, interaction, and attention in a positive, consistent, and caring manner. However, there are those who clearly lack the common sense and self-awareness to see this in themselves and continue to ignorantly trudge on toward carreer suicide. The problem with this is that while these folks are bumbling along figuring out the hard way that perhaps they're not cut out to work with kids, they have already left their mark on the young hearts and minds that have been entrusted to them.

I'm sure we can all think back over our young school years and recall at least one teacher, maybe more, who still, many years later, causes us to recoil at the mere thought of. I know I can.

I'm not sure whether or not Ms. Teacher still has a job after this week (studies have shown that Fridays are the best day to fire people after all) and frankly I don't care as - long as my child is no longer in her class.

I am Mommie. Hear me ROAR.

"Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them."

...James Baldwin

Nutella monsters.

Nutella., originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

Here we have a perfect pictorial of rotten little kids left to their own devices without adult supervision...

So as days go (in the circus that is my life), today was relatively uneventful. I went to work, had coffee, and my sweet husband brought me a Bojangles chicken biscuit for breakfast. I did stuff and was fairly productive, taking only a few crazy calls, and I stayed away from eBay. I skipped lunch and left early for an appointment, treating myself to a soft serve ice cream cone en route.

Kevin took Liam to Taekwondo and we met back at the house where Liam walks in the door holding a Diet Coke in mid-explosion that he'd been shaking which sprayed all over the kitchen, the floor, Liam, and his clean white TKD uniform. Welcome home!

Then per protocol, Kevin and I engage in our traditional "what's for dinner" dance, domestic planners that we are.

Me: "Want me to make some more arepas?"
Him: "No."
Me: "How about rice and vegetables?"
Him: "No."
Me: "Zucchini pasta?"
Him: "No."
Me: "Chinese food it is!"

And so I retreat to the office to place the delivery order while Kevin, struck with the sudden inspiration to clean the dog-pee-stained carpet, sets about doing his thing.

(Since food seems to be the reoccurring blog theme of mine this week...) We usually order from Peking Garden as their cuisine is good albeit unpredictable as it seems the Mexican cooks in the Chinese kitchen have adapted my way of cooking and the inability to follow a recipe so rarely does the same dish taste the same way, but as I said, it's most always good, and more importantly, they deliver and they're quick.

While in the office, I check my email, check Facebook, check Flickr and before I know it, the delivery guy is knocking at the door. I'm in my pajamas already so I task Kevin with getting the door while I collect our offspring for dinner. --A quick look around tells me that the children are missing and therefore up to no good.

They're not downstairs. Not upstairs. Not in the attic (yes, I've found them in there before too). Not in the back yard and they couldn't have gone out the front. What the hell?...

I open the back door to the garage and what do I find but the little monsters hiding and sitting as happily as pigs in slop on the back stoop in their pajamas eating Nutella straight out of the jar with their grubby little hands!

Holy hell.

"When children are doing nothing, they are doing mischief."

...Henry Fielding

some days...

5:366 | Some days..., Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

You know it's gonna be a great day at the office when you have to call the "Po-Po" before you've even finished your morning java!

Yessiree Bob. It was that kind of day.

It all started in 2008 when a PhD-clad native foreigner comes in for a consultation regarding a complex domestic/business matter involving such nonsensical details as murder, terrorism, and a lot of money. The Husband, Esq informs her that it's not something that he can help her with and wishes her luck. Though apparently, "No" is not in her vocabulary.

So she calls and calls and calls. Sometimes once a week, sometimes every two weeks, sometimes months pass before she comes out of remission and begins her crusade again.

When I first began working at the law firm last year, I unknowingly made Ms. X an appointment and asked her to send over copies of the documents pertaining to her matter for review. The Husband, Esq immediately recognizes the paperwork and meets the woman in the front office on the day of the appointment to politely inform her once more that he is not interested in perusing her matter and that he cannot help her. That's when all hell broke lose. Ms. X became highly irate and began yelling about justice and us protecting murderers and other such outlandish insults while being repeatedly asked to leave.

Yet she continues to call, asking for The Husband, Esq, and leaving lengthy unintelligible rambling messages in very poor English.

It's as if shortly after each conversation, she simply "resets" herself retaining no information what-so-ever other than a fixation on The Husband, Esq and an obsession with this matter of hers. And the scene plays out over and over and over again like some bizarre broken record. --I mean really, what sane person would continue to stalk a lawyer who has many times made it clear that he will not take your case and who you have continually accused of being in cahoots with murders, terrorists, and the opposing camp? Why on earth would you want someone like that representing you in the first place? --Somewhere along the way, this lady clearly fell off the turnip truck.

A few weeks ago, The Husband, Esq made the unfortunate mistake of answering the phone himself (which, like, never happens) and who should he find at the other end of the line but Ms. X wanting to talk again about her case. More persistent this time, he tells her again that he is not her attorney, is not going to be her attorney, and cannot help her. In between insults and insane accusations, she asks "How much are they paying you to do this to me?"

This morning, yet another call... The Associate, Esq answers and the same ole song and dance begins. She is told to stop calling our office. You can't make me she says and why is The Husband, Esq plotting against her?

Not 15 minutes later, guess who shows up? That's right, Ms. X.

The Husband, Esq tells her to leave and the high-pitched murder of the English language commences as she begins her conspiracy tirade about us protecting murderers, working for the other side, and not upholding justice and so on. Meanwhile, I'm on the phone with a client who I promptly interrupt and hang up on to phone 911.

The Husband, Esq states once more that we will not pursue her matter, cannot help her, and that if she continues to contact us in any manner then we will be forced to file a Harassment suit and seek a Protective Order against her. Further, if she comes to our office again, she will be arrested for Trespassing. Hysterically pissed, she finally departs.

Next comes a real estate attorney who shows up for a 10 o'clock closing. We don't do real estate law; never have. I finally determine that he is looking for an attorney who used to occupy our current office space 4-5 years ago so I kindly look up the address, write it down, and call the other office for him. Then he says to me, "This is why I have a full time person in my office to make sure things like this don't happen and waste my time. I don't know why she couldn't look up the correct address but I'm not happy about this." Oh pu-lease, you're a real estate attorney, get over yourself!

There is a reason that lawyers have such a bad reputation.

Anyway... A police officer arrives moments later responding to our call. The Husband, Esq and I explain the circumstances and events, describe Ms. X and provide her name. Interestingly, though not surprisingly, the officer knows Ms. X as he just arrested her two months ago for pulling a similar stunt showing up at an IRS building alleging that the government owes her hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The police officer leaves and would you freakin' believe it? Ms. X calls again (Thank God for caller ID)... three times. I let it roll to voice mail where she screams out yet another crazy-ass message that I cannot fully make out... Something about assisting hiding murderers, China, Korea, and we better not call the police on her telling lies.

All this before 11:00 am.

Okay, really, I have nothing against crazy people in general (hey, most of my best friends are crazy people!) and I do greatly sympathize with those struggling with mental illness and emotional crisis. I've (half-jokingly) suggested on more than one occasion that perhaps we should consider an on-staff shrink or at the very least subletting some office space to a mental health professional... But give me a break; I am human and my sympathy only stretches so far. STOP INVOLVING US IN YOUR PERSONAL PSYCHOTIC HELL AND GET SOME FREAKIN' HELP.

...Just another day in your friendly neighborhood law office!

"I doubt if a single individual could be found from the whole of mankind free from some form of insanity. The only difference is one of degree. A man who sees a gourd and takes it for his wife is called insane because this happens to very few people."

...Desiderius Erasmus

just shoot me.

manga assassin., originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

Holy hell. Another insane week of consecutive shitty Mondays.

I don't even know where to begin?!!... so I won't.

"Hell is other people."

...Jean-Paul Sartre

weird-ass day.

Poppies?, originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

Something, somewhere in the universe fell out of alignment today... and Thursday hit like a ton of bricks. Screaming. And on fire.

I mean Mondays most always suck. We expect Mondays to suck. We brace ourselves and prepare for the suckiness of Mondays and therefore somehow live to see Tuesdays.

But Thursdays? What's up with that? That's a sneaky, underhanded way to run a universe.

Definitely out of alignment.

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former."

...Albert Einstein