Jury duty pt 2

Well this part is a little different than part 1. For one, I was writing that as it happened, and I couldn't do that with this part as I was actively in the court room and phones and such were not allowed. So here's what happened:

They called my name. #7. I literally let out a sigh of disgust. And so I went down to the 5th floor and stood in line while a lady told us what would be happening. We'd go in and be surveyed (guadiere, I thing that how its spelled. Pronounced "gwa-deer") and chosen or not chosen to be in the jury based on our answers.

So of course being #7 I was right in the front. Center. And the dude next to me would NOT SHUT UP. At first it was funny, but then he said, "he's guilty," when we found out what the charges were. Not funny. Btw it was the state vs this young immigrant who was accused of sexual assault of a 12 year old girl. So yeah dude, shut up. The immigrant dude looked like he was having it rough up on Wright St. His eyes were red the whole time. I know they treat rapists hard up in the joint, and with good reason, so...

Certain things could be implied by the line of questioning. There was forensic evidence. If the forensics did not incriminate the defendant, I don't believe we'd be there. You know? If the DNA was someone else's, we wouldn't be looking at this guy. Also, the way the defense lawyer asked his questions made it seem they could only put reasonable doubt in your head, maybe, possibly. On a good day. I wouldn't want him reppin me. He wasn't too tight in the game.

So we get on with the questionaire. Do you know anyone in the courtroom? Would the influx of Latino immigrants into the US effect you negatively in this case? Do you have police or military relatives? Do you watch law and order or CSI? (when they asked this question, people were like, what about "cold case"? What about "48hrs"? Damn, just say yes. You get the idea.) Has anyone close to you been arrested? do you have an negative experience with the police? Positive? Do you have a scientific, counseling, child care background? Do you have children? On and on. And then there were 2 questions I was the only one who answered in the afirmative: do you speak Spanish? Were you personally the victim of a sex crime?

Now, admitting you were the "victim" of a sex crime can be a hard thing. First of all you have to move past victimization. I don't feel like a victim. It was a part of my past and makes me who I am. By not saying that it happened, 2 things occur. I make myself ashamed and a liar. (btw, Mr talkative gave me the side eye when I answered this question. I was actually thankful he clammed up and looked at me differently.) I did no more to deserve the actions brought upon me than I did when my house was robbed when I was 19. The other thing is a perpetuation that its going to be something we should be silent about. Its not. I once sat in a room where a large majority of females admitted to having been a "victim" too. No one would have known otherwise. But by us saying it, and there being males in the room hearing what we had to say, I can guarantee it had an effect on them. So while I am pretty sure I wasn't the only one who was involved in a sex crime, I was the only one to admit it. And that's fine. I don't want people to think they can ever be in a room full of people and assume that none of the women there have been offended. And next time, maybe every one would be able to admit it.

As far as not knowing Spanish... Really? 60 people in the room and the only ones who speak Spanish are me and the defense? These people had a crazy diverse background, and I was the only one who could communicate with the people who are literally running to live in our city? Boo!

So moving on. After this, we took a lunch and then it was specific juror questioning. Something I found funny was one man's response:

"where does your wife work?"

"oh she's retired."

"from?"

"north Carolina."

Dude. Not what she meant. I really wanted to laugh.

My questionaire was long. I talked about my brother's and uncles' military service, my dad's and cousin's arrests, my functionality in Spanish, whether or not my personal experience with the crime would bias me (I said it wouldn't. I'm able to see that this guy is not the person that hurt me), and my job. After that, I went in the hallway and squeezed in next to a nice old lady who was eventually chosen. I'd first seen her earlier because she was sock-footed. Someone had taken her shoes! What the? She was 74! And walking around the courthouse since she'd gotten there with no shoes on. Her daughter came after lunch and brought her a pair from her house. We talked for a while, and she was talking to me for a while. It took me a second to realize that Jackie was her daughter that died of diabetes in 2004 (yes, we really talked) because she talked to me as if we'd known each other since back in the day. She grew up in warm springs, the home town of Eisenhower, I think she said. And her dad worked for him. Was he the one in the wheelchair? That's who she was talking about. Anyway, we talked about her time as a private investigator at "Girls Friday" in roswell. That name reminds me of a strip club even though I know where it came from.

So after a while, a long while, remember I was #7 of 50, we went back into the room and the judge talked to us about "striking" jurors. He said they'd take a 15 minute recess and we'd be out by 6. Lemme say that first of all, we weren't. 2ndly, I'd been in that building since 8am and I'd been up since 6am. So I was beat. After almost a half hour, the lawyers came back and striking began. Now, I've seen them do this OUT LOUD before but never in this "passing notes in class" way that was occuring before me. No one said A WORD for another 20 minutes. A court worker passed a. Few sheets of paper back and forth, writing here and there and passing, whispering, while we sat there bored and not knowing what's going on. Then finally they had a jury and they called 13 people and then the judge thanked us and we were on our way. It was 630! I spent 10.5 hours in there only to not get picked. And I know that the fact that I was the only one who admitted to what I did was the reason why. It was the only thing that set me apart to the point of being a "biased juror." meh, whatever. I could see how that could hurt your case, lol. I went to kesi's house and went to sleep. Now I just sit back and wait for my $25.

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Jury duty pt 1

*This was written in the juror waiting room before I was sent to a judge. There'll be more on that specifically later on. There's a lot to mention. I will say, clearly, that I did not get picked, so there will be full disclosure.*

I've been up since 615am. Ate my breakfast of oatmeal and Vault and took a shower. Got dressed and tried to leave the house. "you can not go to court dressed like that!" ok, so I had on a fuschia top with a dancing monkey on it (which some have referred to as racist, but its an aeropostale shirt and its cute), and I was thinking more of my picnic date with Kesi in Centennial after I'm done here (because they never keep me long), but I knew she was right. It did make me laugh a little after a while. But um, its hot outside and I was dressing for comfort. I aint putting on a dress! And certainly not tweed pants, as she suggested. I changed into a blue Nike golf shirt. I really look like I'm gonna golf today. I have on tan above the knee capris- I know these type of shorts have a name, but usually I would just barely be waking up this time of day, so- and some loafer sneakers with tan, blue, pink and lime dots. I actually saw a guy with a similar outfit on who looked like he actually owned clubs.

Anyway, I get to the courthouse and they take my camera temporarily. I just gotta make sure I keep this raffle ticket they gave me. I remembered to take my knife out of my purse, didn't think of the camera... Oops. anywhoot, I get to the 7th floor and there's this line that stretches to eternity, because they're not letting people in as a group. You have to check in first and there's 2 people at a windo checking in oh about 300people. Give or take. Maybe 200. Still, that's a lot of people. And I'm tired! I'm listening to Frank Ski, and apparently its Usher Day. Btw, his album sounds pretty wack. His son sounds adorable. Put him cooing for an hour on wax and I may head to Target. But this album? Bah. Not that I own any usher... I hold my r+b dudes to a very high standard. I have Maxwell, Robin thicke, um.... Shoot that's it. I think. I've digressed again.

So I get in the room, and then we watch a movie with channel 11's own Brenda Wood, all about what the hell we're doing here. I don't remember what they said. I was paying attention but my brain was still asleep. I just realized I may be the youngest person in the room. Lol someone in here's last name is "Cooch!" *dead*

So I've been sitting here since then and I am trying to hold on. Reading and playing on my phone. I finished my book 2 days ago. It got really good, at the last 3rd, things started getting really twisted. I mean even moreso than usual.

*****************
At 11ish, I got chosen for jury selection. Of course I can't tell you anything about it. I'm eating lunch now... If I get chosen for the jury then I won't be able to comment on the case until a verdict comes in. If I don't get chosen, you'll hear all about it tomorrow. Some funny things have happened already. Funny odd, not necessarily funny haha. Til later...
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first kiss.

So, I've already told you that its less than a month to my 6th anniversary, and I've already written about the first time we met andour first time. Hell, he was even the inspiration for the blog in its inception.

But I haven't talked about our first kiss, and the events surrounding it.

January 2002. I had decided, after the dissolvement of my previous relationship, that this year was Joy Year. This meant I was going to do whatever I wanted to make myself happy. This included sneaking an 11th grader I had a crush on into my house to make out and get high. it also meant developing absolutely no feelings for him after he went home in the middle of the night. But we had mutual friends and hung out frequently.

A day or two after this, Kesi and I and a group of friends were being photographed for the year book. We were thinking about buying a page for the poetry group we were in. We were laughing and chilling with the group, but also kind of flirting off to the side. I remember him leaning against a wall and me hugging him, and he was giving me a serious look. "What?" "man, if I didn't have a girlfriend..." I gave him the one eyebrow. Mmhmm... The seed we'd planted a year before was peeking its lil head out. (link to that story coming soon!)

Meanwhile, Mr Sneaky Hookup was trying to get me alone again. We and our friends would hang out after school, but I knew I wasn't that into him. How? I realized I didn't want to kiss him. And his ass was always talking! About some quasi intellectual bull! And saying his father was an Egyptian prince. Negro you live in the SWATS. Boo. Even around him, I was thinking, "I wonder what kesi's up to?" there was one particular Monday when I had really realized I didn't like like Mr SH, that I decided I was going to kiss Kesi. Muahahaha! I'd imagined in my head just walking up to him and planting a good one on him. I mean, I already told him we were gonna have kids together, what's a kiss?

The next day, as per usual, we were all having lunch: Kesi, me, chick named keshia, and dude named Pierre, among others. I was having a lunch "snack:" iced tea and granola bars. No wonder I was so small. He was sitting directly across from me, eating chicken fingers and fries (the lunch people RAN to the cafeteria for).

"Pierre! No one wants to kiss me!" I knew Pierre would know if Kesi was feeling me; they were homeys. And Pierre's a horny bastard, all deep voiced sax player, so judging by HIS reaction to this statement, I would know if I had a shot.

"what about Kesi? He'll kiss anything." real nice P.

Meanwhile Kesi was a cute lil deer in headlights. He'd barely had a fry in his mouth and already I was on him.

"so? You want to?" he gave me a shrug I now know to mean, "I want to, but I don't want to seem too eager." woo hoo!

I too, was trying not to seem eager, so I took pause to swish some tea around in my mouth to make sure I didn't breathe granola all over him, though I could feel my poor face heating up. "you ready?" I stood up, leaned across the table, and laid a quick smooch on his lips.

Oh my. For a kiss that that lasted .005sec, it was fan freaking tastic. He had nice, big soft lips. And of course there was this energy between us that left us both red faced, as keshia started out, in her generally loud way, "damn! People are trying to eat, and yall making out at the table!" which led the people who didn't witness it to ask about whether or not we were dating, and why did we kiss if we weren't? This lasted about 10 minutes, then things died down and we got back to our chicken and granola.

After lunch, we went our separate ways (though our classes were next door, and I wrote him a note telling him that I liked him. He wrote back saying he'd liked me for a long time. We made it official like a week later, and we've been joined at the lips ever since.

Sparks *editted*

6 more days...



Monday was exactly 5 years since kesi and I first kissed. I'm sure I told this story before so I'll summarize:



We were in the cafeteria and he was sitting directly across from me. I was eating my usual granola and tea (I ate light back then) and he had chicken. After a few minutes, I turned to his friend and made a comment about no one wanting to kiss me (lie! I called myself the kiss ho), and he said, kesi will. My plan was working! And so I drank some tea to make sure there was no granola in my teeth and went for it.



It was literally short and sweet. But I felt... Something. A spark, if you will. My face was red, I know it. And what with all the uproar of people making out across cafeteria tables, lmao. He was blushing too. But he composes himself better.



That little kiss made all the difference. It was that spark.cliché huh? But really, there was clearly something deeper there. We were drawn to each other. I feel it still when we kiss. Even if its just a goodbye.



and now its 5 whole freaking years later! Its funny cuz sometimes I think I should be tired of him. But I'm not! He really is the only one. Swoon. There are times I wish and hope every one that's in love can relate, and moments when I hope this is just a feeling that's ours. 5 years. Yeah. Its better than I could have thought.

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to my best friend 2: kesi

i met kesi in 9th grade. i remember the event as if it were today. i was sitting on the floor with my friend and she said, "that's my friend kesi." i remember he looked like a middle school friend omar: tall, skinny, cute... and so i asked about him. was he american? he's got a funny name. he's in 9th too?

after that we were semi-cool. we both wrote poetry and would share what we wrote. we even sat next to each other in our school's poetry showcase... which was when i realized i REALLY liked him. but i was in a very turbulent relationship then and so we remained friends.

he knows alot about me that the average chick might try to hide from a guy. but he was there for it. we talked- and still do talk- openly about situations in our lives. he's a good listener, and a good distraction from those things at the same time.

ok so we eventually got "booed up" or what have you, but that's like an accessory. it was funny how our relationship really didnt change except that we had a new title and kissed more often. i'd say that he's two things to me. he's my boyfriend, my love, but he's also my best friend. i think one lends to the other. if we hadnt started dating we wouldnt be as close, but if we hadnt been able to laugh with each other i wouldnt have been so attracted to him. i think if we werent together i'd still want him in my life because he brings a brightness and a different view to things.

above all he's my giggle buddy. we have so much fun. we can take a joke and make it last months. i still call him shnookie, and that was something we got from a cartoon years ago. people sometimes feel wierd about hanging with us cuz they think they'll be the odd one out, but around others we're friends and i'm like one of the guys.

i try to give him some of the world he's never seen. give him new perception. and the same goes for him toward me. i think of all my friends, he and i are the most different. we look at the world from different views...

like i said i see our friendship lasting the rest of our lives. through whatever phases life takes us we'll always have the ability to undertand and grow with each other. that's why he's one of my best friends.

the heart is like a marching band. i'm a fan in the stands.

one month and one week. it was a tuesday.

we were headed to oz, the best pizza place in atlanta, also conveniently located next to the subway station we'd need to go to to get home from school.

we'd sit at the high, bar style tables by the window. that way our bookbags could sit in the sills and not touch the floor. two cheese slices for him, one for me. and share a root beer. its possible we'd have a staring contest that day, though who won is lost in history. we're locked in a tie right now. he never wants a tie breaker, lol. this was 4 years ago mind you.

after eating and talking we'd always retreat to the coffee house section with the ugly but comfortable green chairs. in the one that faced the street, we'd sit and watch traffic until it was time for him to go. of course we'd talk and make out a little. but mostly watch people go by.

this particular day, in the quiet of the room, watching people walk and drive, i got to thinking. about how, in this one month and one week, i'd been happier than in two years with the ex who'd inevitably let me down. with the man who let me sit on his lap after every other school day, sometimes watched me fall asleep and never complained about my being too heavy or his leg cramps, i'd had the most innocent fun. nothing was ever expected of me. he just wanted me to be there.

and here we were, him staring out the picture window, oblivious, me with my head on his shoulder looking deeply at the bricks, trying so hard not to... but i did.

i started to cry. ok, like weep. but the fact is, no one ever sees me cry. no matter if we were friends for three years beforehand.

"what's wrong?" he looked so concerned.

"i'm scared."

"why?"

"i think i love you."

that's right. i quoted david cassidy. cheesy but all true.

and he just held me. he smiled a little. he wiped the tears from my eyes. i told him he didnt have to say it back. thats how i really knew i meant it. i wasnt looking for validation. just understanding. i calmed down and we stared out the window a little longer before we left. i felt a little embarrassed but very light. i almost started crying again on the bus home, as i almost did as i type this.

one month, one week, one day. he says it back. said he wanted to wait a day so it didnt seem like he was just saying it.