You've really got to stop shopping at Wal-Mart

Just a little while ago there was a brief story on the 10 o' clock news that Wal-Mart, unlike almost ALL other retailers in the country, actually saw its sales increase by 3% this past Christmas season.

Wal-Mart happily mid-wifed the birth of our crappy economy by forcing American manufacturers to close American factories and ship those jobs to China. And for this they get repaid by being the only place Americans can now afford to shop.

Less Drugs, More Alcohol

I've been narcotic free for over a week. Which is good because pharmacoepia was getting in the way of wine drinking. Though holiday excess has made me decide that this year I think I will give up alcohol. Unlike last year when I enlisted the entire family in the Buy USA challenge, I think the kids will find it fairly easy to give up alcohol. (Don't kid yourselves, they love them some mouthwash.)

Since it is still 2008 I may wander over to the kitchen and rustle me up a chardonnay.

Hey, the Packers managed to not lose to the Lions. It wasn't such a sure thing throughout. We went over to my aunt's house for her partner's 50th birthday party and watched the game. On the way home we listened to Aaron Rodgers interview on the radio. The guy is a real class act. He said that as a football quarterback there is a lot he can control but that far more happens that is out of his control. You can only trouble yourself with that which you can control, he said. Considering that he spent the pre-season submerged in the Brett Favre unretirement brouha, I think he is an admirable soul.

I wonder how Brett Favre is feeling have lost to Mike Holmgren in Mike's last home game and to Chad Pennington today?

te he.

One more mishap

My life is beginning to resemble a sit-com. Following closely on the heels of those madcap adventures-the problems with RD at work, the faux heart attack and subsequent vicodin bender, then jury duty and the twenty hour deliberation, I went back to work promising not to miss a day unless I was bleeding out my eyes.

The very next morning my back seized up on me while I was in the laundry room. I went up to my bedroom, called work and told them I'd be in as soon as the drugs kicked in. Then I hollered at Ben to bring me the prescription ibuprofen they gave me at the hospital. "Not the vicodin!" I added.

I took two of the 600mg ibuprofen pills and sent Ben to Walgreens for some Doan's pills.

When Ben got back I took two of the Doans.

Eight hours later, when the workday was nearly done, I woke up.

The next day I discovered that I did not take ibuprofen, I took two prescription muscle relaxers my doctor had prescribed and that Ben had filled while I was zonked out on the vicodin bender, plus the two Doan's pills.

I shall heretofore refer to this as the incident of the 'Lude bender.

Working My Way Back To You

Zowie. The last month has been insane. First there was the problem at work and the 12 hour days that followed, then faux heart attack scare and subsequent vicodin bender, then jury duty.

Let me tell you about jury duty.

We had jury selection on Monday, listened to testimony on Tuesday and Wednesday, heard closing arguments then we deliberated for 11 hours on Thursday (we left the courthouse at 11pm) and we deliberated for nine more hours on Friday.

The case was an accusation of rape against a not very savory man. The accuser was his daughter. She was a teen at the time of the allegations; prosecution said that he took her virginity. He was also accused of raping her on a weekly basis for over a year.

Yuck.

The problem with the case was that I didn't believe the young woman's story. She reported it ten years after the fact, yet there was no claim of repressed memory. She says she didn't report because she was afraid of the man, yet when her baby daughter (worse than if it were a son, imo) was born she took her to meet him. Defense claimed that she often asked for rent money. After the money stopped he was accused. We learned through a defense witness that she threatened that she said "I'm going to make you pay, you son of a bitch".

I'm trying to give you the largest swaths of the case. We listened to testimony for two days. We deliberated for 20 hours.

Though there were four counts in the case and the vote was different for each, essentially nine people thought that we should convict and three people felt the verdict should be not guilty. I was in the minority. The major difference was that 11 of 12 people felt that the state did not make its case against the man, but that 8 of those people felt the reasonable doubt threshold had been reached. The twelth juror was a nutcase who said straight out that rape stories are NEVER fabricated. (She also said that she could not vote for innocence in a case where the defendant didn't testify on his own behalf. Screw you, fifth amendment!)

When this lovely young woman took the stand, she had my faith and my belief in her. I wanted to do right by her. But as she spoke, she struck me as a bullshit artist. In my scribbled notes there were circles and arrows and question marks and the word "Contradicts". I would go into detail for you here but that would make a lengthy post that I don't have much of a stomach for. I've been living with this story in my head for over a week. It's there when I wake up and when I go to sleep. I truly truly wish that I could have believed her. The easiest thing to have done would have been to say 'guilty'. But I believe that it is worse to put an innocent man in jail than to let a guilty man go free. The state did not make the case against the man. One woman on the jury said the polar opposite: "I can't stand the thought that there's a possibility I'd let a rapist walk around on the streets". Screw you, reasonable doubt!

Though deliberations lasted for over 20 hours for the most part they were respectful, thoughtful deliberations. There were some heated exchanges but very little animosity. In the end, we were a hung jury and a mistrial was declared.

Ask me questions in comments about the case, if you like. I'll answer and/or give greater detail as to why, as much as it pained me to say so, I thought the accuser was lying.

Merry War on Christmas!

I am reposting my Christmas Card from last year. Feel free to download it for your personal War On Christmas Use. Onward, Christmas Soldiers!

Jury Duty

Because I didn't miss enough work with my faux heart attack scare and subsequent vicodin bender, today I reported for jury duty to find myself empaneled on a jury for a case that should take all week.

I have always wanted to be on jury duty. But somehow the county couldn't find me for the last five years when I had no job (or at least gainful employment). Let's just say the timing sux.

Of course, I'd love to tell you all about it, but rules are rules. It is a criminal case, I think that's all I'm allowed to divulge.

Cross your fingers that they do not make me foreman. I plan to pick my nose in public for the first part of the day tomorrow.

If I ever get there, I should add. Big snowstorm is predicted for tonight. The kids stand a good chance of having a snow day tomorrow. Have fun, Ben!

Not Much, You?

As Freida Bee always says "oh yeah, I have a blog". I haven't meant to be lax but let me tell you the last two weeks have been beyond. Major shake up at work. Without going into too much detail, Republican Dude (RD) was doing an even worse job than I had originally suspected. So, careful what you bitch for, because I went from working 20 or so hours a week and setting my own schedule to full time and more, lately putting in 10 hour day averages. Man.

And then last Wednesday night I went to the emergency room with chest pains. I thought of Dr. Monkey, who was my age when he had his heart attack. I thought about mattyboy who went in last year for some chest pain issues. Let me just say that when a whole lotta people come rushing at you with little stickers and wires and machines that go 'bing', it can be pretty scary. I had to stay in the hospital until a little after 1 am. I sent Ben and the girls home at 9 pm and called a cab to get me. Thus far the conclusion is that it was some kind of a pulled muscle in my back or rib cage area. Thursday and Friday are vicodin indused hazes.

Here it is, Sunday night and I am tapping this out on my new laptop while I sit in my armchair. How cool is that? Just wait until we get the wifi router at our house, I'll take all you guys to bed with me. Or something like that. (I wonder if my hit counter will go up with that last statement?)

So that's what's been up with me. Sorry I haven't visited all y'all. I'll be around soon.

Love,

Jess.

Last night I dreamt that Paris Hilton told me I was fat.

Dear Psyche, haven't we got better things to do with our dreams? Tonight is she going to come and tell me I'm poor?

Oh, and as far as messengers go, I know you've got a Mark Rufalo or a Kenneth Branagh (as Hamlet) in there somewhere.

Let's shape up up there, shall we?