July 7, 2011

Never From Concentrate (in way more than 140 characters).

What up bitches! I hope y'all read that greeting the right way. If not, please re-start this post imagining I'm greeting you as I enter a banging house-party "Can't Hardly Wait" style of house party, without lame ass bitches like Jennifer Love Hewitt -- or shit, wait a minute, am I that girl? Nevermind, its impossible to the that girl with walking into a room with a salutation like "What up bitches!"

Anyway. How you doing? I hope, as always, that this finds you well. I hope you've calmed down from yesterday's shocking verdict news. Jesus Christ, if you had any question as to whether or not America (in addition to having the largest prison population in the world -- just to keep the subjects in the same arena . . .) was in fact the most ridiculously reactive nation, you didn't have to look further than your favorite hoodrat's Twitter feed.  Now, before we get into all this, even though you may feel so-omg-life-endingly (too soon? no pun intended on the real, y'all!) upset at the news, I really don't give a shit whether or not you agree with the verdict, wanted to fill a glove with rocks and slap Jeff Ashton across the face; or were secretly hoping the train-wreck of a mistress Crysal Raine would be giving lap dances at a discount (and a horrible lisp) if you'd allow her to call you George Anthony. What-evs!

July 5, 2011

See you at the Crossroads (and cue up the Bone Thugz, please.)

Oh darlings! How are you! I miss everything about you. Trust me that I've been thinking about you lately. I've been meaning to blog, really, I have, and I don't quite know. The most cliche explanation (and therefore the best, of course) I can come up with now is the ever-popular "life just got in the way." Yes, I'm cringing as I type that. You're welcome.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand, which, at this very moment is sort of a mix of things, really. I suppose that's the way life is, a whole blend of this and that, and its up to us to choose what and who we pay attention to. What's worth it to us in the moment, in the long run, and so on.

Before I start catching a ton of shit for treating this like Anne Frank's "Kitty" or a personal locked diary, hollup. There's no way I'm turning into Carrie Bradshaw here, don't even fret. (Jesus Christ, the nose alone would take me years to cultivate. Scary!) All I'm trying to get across here you already know. I'm a genius - gifted with above average intelligence; and . . . well let's just get to it . . .

The Casey Anthony case is keeping me up at night! Okay, not really literally, because, let's be honest, three Tylenol PM will help anyone to sleep, but I'm really keyed up about it. (and yes, I used the word "keyed up" - it's that real-life.) I don't know if y'all have been following the story, but I have. I have a few people in my life, some of my very favorite people, who've been following it pretty closely, too. I am thankful for this because Nancy Grace is difficult as shit to get in touch with, and I'm pretty sure Lucy and John-David are to blame. We can address that later, but throughout this trial something has just . . . bothered me. Being (get ready to roll your eyes with me) socially liberal and fiscally conservative, I've always leaned and favored any and all causes championed by prosecutors nationwide. I supported the death penalty and was pro-government in the WACO (which, as my cousin informed my 7-year-old self in 1993 "WACO" stands for "what-a-cook-out . . yes, you love it.) situation but damnit, I cannot hop on the Jeff Ashton train. For the life of me, I can't saddle up. And God knows there's no reason not to. He's got a little swagger, is concise and to the point and in watching this trial I've witnessed what others have called the workings of a true "bulldog prosecutor." Now, normally, I'd be with those moustached-dimwitted fellows outside the Orange County Courthouse with my neon pink "Jeff Ashton for President" poster board. (Two points to homeboy for spelling everything correctly. You go girl!) but no matter how hard I try, how much I debate aspects of the case with my best friends, and (ir)regardless of how much I hate Jose Baez's uneven buzz cut, I'm finding myself pro-Casey.

Now, I'll say it again. Hollup. Perhaps "Pro-Casey" is not the correct term . . . I'll agree with you there. But I've spent too much time trying to put myself in the shoes of everyone involved in that trial . . well, everyone involved in the disappearance and subsequent death of Caylee Anthony. After watching and reading all I can about it (thank God I've had extra time at work this month), I genuinely believe that Caylee's death was "accidental" . . . yes, really. I put the loose quotes because I'm pretty sure Casey's guilty of negligence. By "pretty sure" I mean definitely, but I'd hate to assume anything is ever 100%. I've gone through each phase of the search, discovery and loss of Caylee. I've thought out the motivations of the Anthony's - each one of them, and yes, I've accounted for every gap in the cases of both prosecution and defense. I'm nearly positive Jose knew the whole story first, and that George and Cindy were told by Casey not too long after. I can understand (to some degree) Casey's actions, when I put myself in Casey's shoes. Not everyone is able to do this. I'm not, in any way, likening myself to Casey, we aren't the same, but I . . . can at least, to my satisfaction explain or offer an explanation for all of it. I don't need to get into my abso right assumptions (. . . trust me, I don't mean to brag but, okay - fine, we all know bragging is one of my top three favorite things - I can't help it! So sue me!) but I am worried. I share Jose's worry. And I can't decide how to feel about it. Allow me to continue.

Our entire justice system, whether or not it should be, is incredibly idealistic. I, too, am idealistic. Jose Baez and Chaney Mason are idealistic. I think you have to be to be a defense lawyer, the same can also be said for being a litigator of any kind, I don't know, I've not yet considered this. Horrible shit happens everyday to millions of people across America, and across the globe, but, just like my home girl Anne Frank detailed, its better to believe that humans are inherently good. The belief that on a very base level, we are all more similar than we are different and that we all subscribe to some moral compass, and use it to guide us for the most part. Am I too idealistic here? Is my idealism bordering on the edge of ignorance? I will argue no. I've had a fair share of crosses to bear, like we all have, and despite it all, I see no reason for cynicism. For believing in the worst. Why disappoint yourself prematurely? 
This is all a way to say, a very long way to say (I realize it). So, I'm here tonight, at the end of Independence Day giving you all a small dose of realness, without the hook nose of Carrie Bradshaw (I not only have a button nose, but I'm no where near the age of 40, thank God).

So, let's wrap this up because we both know I never fucking proofread, I'm not going to start now, and I feel like I'm rambling without getting to anything new. I'm just saying, I hope you had a jail-free Fourth of July (and Fifth of July for that matter). I hope you celebrated the hell out of freedom, George Washington and America (and looked really great doing it. I know I did.)

And yes, I'm heading up to the attic to finish my pondering. Let's all try to keep it d-l this time okay. I'm no fan of Germans. 

Holler.

March 8, 2011

Who you tryin' to get crazy with, ese?

So here I am, waiting for my car’s heated seats to get adjusted properly. As I'm being forced to endure 3 minutes (so far) of Fox's "fair and balanced" news I've been shown quite a few interesting things. My own ignorance is at fault for not realizing how close we are to the 2012 Presidential Election. I mean, obvs, my homeboy GO-bama is the democratic front runner, right? Its not really him I'm worried about. But, unsurprisingly, two of the potential candidates for the GOP have me worried. Honestly, I don't know how viable they are as potential candidates, but, let's explore. Allow me to digress. I mean Donald Trump . . . Really? It’s laughable at best. You're right, he is better than Sarah Plain (typo but it stays) but they both are embarrassing! For real, Grand Ol' Party? Jesus Christ, his hair alone counts him out. Yes, he does have a bit of Hollywood experience, but before you liken him to Ronald Reagan, keep in mind Home Alone 2 was left out of the Oscar nods from 1993. Done. Next . . .