Archive | April, 2012

Murder, She Wrote…

19 Apr

Summoned to jury duty this past Monday, all I could think about was “how the hell am I gonna get out of this?” My lady boss just quit a week ago, my Executive Director asked me if I’d be interested in being considered for her job, and frankly, I’ve got a shitload on my hands (no pun) to deal with.

I was in for the rudest awakening EVUH. First off, I had no idea what jury duty actually was. I was only ever called once to municipal court and they pled out, so WOO HOO, day off for moi!

So as I arrived at the Superior Court building, I figured I’d sit in some room, waiting to be called and then dismissed. It didn’t quite turn out this way. You see, I was in the first group of 123 citizens that day and was selected as candidate #13.

I joked that I was unlucky #13. Which is fucking true, because the jury consists of 12 jurors and 3 alternates. As day 2 wore on, several candidates were recused, leaving me, unlucky #13 to take my new “seat.” In the goddamned jury box. Juror #8.

By the end of day 2 of the jury selection process, 23 more would be recused and the rotating jury box seats would be vacated and refilled until the defense attorney and prosecutor agreed on the jury.

Murder was the case that they gave me...

Now, I’m not often chosen for kickball or other sports, so I was a bit surprised that I was still sitting in the front row of the jury box, in the second seat, when the judge announced that the jury was set.

Trial begins on Monday. As you know, I’m sworn not to discuss the case or specifics. I won’t Google it, or further educate myself on any matters related to criminal law. My role is clear. To be the fact finder in listening to the evidence. To render a verdict.

The only thing I will tell you – this is murder case.

And as my career is now on trial, being judged, weighed and argued, I risk losing my promotion. On the other hand, the life of the defendant, and the justice for the victim outweigh anything else.

I am proud to have been selected and take this extremely seriously. I will be writing nightly, but not publicly, about how this is changing me. Because surely it will. How can it not? When the trial is over, I will publish my experience.


No more cabin…

11 Apr

Last August, on top of me renting a condo, we lost a renter in one of our Georgia properties. So our expenses just went way the fuck up. And to this day, there is no renter in that property, which means we’re losing a shitload of money every month. (And don’t get me started on the break in last month where thieves stole the goddamned copper out of the walls. Fucktards.)

That's a shit load of snow!

Meanwhile, neither the ex or I were particularly attached any longer to our weekend home in the mountains. This was, after all, the place where we thought we’d retire. So the ex and I decided we gotta sell it. Unfortunately for us, we bought in June of 2007 (drum roll please?). And the current market value is $200,000 less than what we bought it for (hand me a fucking tissue please?).

Anyhoohaw, we debated for quite a while about whether we should risk our credit in order to staunch the money bleed that was happening. In the end, decided to short-sell it. Clearly, we had a great case for hardship. And just as clearly, we had a great goddamned cabin. The same day it listed on the MLS, an offer came in.

When my realtor called me, she told me “um, you need to know that the offer came in from people you know…”

I was just shocked and sad, and then pissed that these carpetbaggers were going to benefit from our loss. But we signed the offer anyway. And the bank approved the sale and are forgiving our debt.

Now, the time for moving our stuff out has begun. Last weekend, my bestie and I went up there to get all my clothes and start the process. This weekend, the ex will do the same.

Then… the following weekend (or two) we ALL will be up there together, figuring out who gets what, what to sell, what to leave behind. It’s going to be an interesting time, considering this was, after all, the home we bought to retire in.

On an uplifting note, the fact that the ex and I are friends, and joke with each other, is a fantastic thing. I still feel the love and respect that made us a great couple and wish him every happiness in life and know that regardless of this next step in moving on with our lives, that we will have memories of happy times not clouded with anger and bitterness because it was time to move forward.

Please raise your martini with me… “To the cabin, may you fall apart in the hands of the carpetbaggers” (friggin assholes.)

Alternate toast “I hope next winter it snows 10 feet. Enjoy that slippery driveway, dirty carpetbaggers.”