Through The Looking Glass

aaron is always telling me that no one knows what reality actually is. and maybe, in fact, there is no reality, only individual (and presumably inaccurate) versions based on each person's perceptions of their surroundings. i tend to vaguely agree with him in a that-sounds-reasonable- but-is-really- beyond-my-expertise- to-comment-on sort of way. after all, being completely aware of one's surroundings would require perfect information. (and all economists know that perfect information is a theoretical pre-condition to market theory. unfortunately good theory does not always translate into successful practice... for example: socialism and me operating a manual transmission.) perhaps this is why new information can be so mentally taxing -- if you are without the theoretical perfect information, any illumination can literally change your whole world by jostling around your perception of reality. especially when something turns out to be the opposite of what you previously thought.

i'll go ahead and blame my own confusion on my good honest upbringing. my mind has a really hard time comprehending why anyone would lie to me. because i don't lie to people. and even if i wanted to, there's no way i'd be able to do it without a big silly grin. (side note: i'm not sure how i manage to maintain this small piece of innocence, given that i am extremely skeptical of opinions and theories. maybe because facts are concrete, while opinions and theories require a thought process. and thought process is not something the average person can necessarily perform to my satisfaction.) still, i'm not sure i want to change the reality i live in where people are generally good, if not infallible. maybe it's OK to be jostled around a bit rather than completely change my sunny blue skies to suspicion and cynicism. i wonder whether other people are similarly happy with their false realities.

although my gut feeling after getting all this on "paper" is to reject aaron's theory as undesirable given my love of free will and rational decision-making, it actually gives a lot of power back to the individual. your existence is not concrete; instead, your reality is literally a combination of what you know and what you choose to believe about what you don't know. both of which you can change in a heartbeat.

in other news, i set my first case for trial this week. it's a child molest case (and keep in mind, my client, who is 12, is the alleged offender...) i'm sure once i regain my sleep, health, and sanity after my weekend of debauchery in stormy california, the great weight of responsibility will settle onto me. would it be so bad to cut my teeth on something less than a class 2 felony that requires lifetime registration as a sex offender? eek!

and i'm dogsitting this week. i've been here about 6 hours and so far the police have only had to come 1 time when i forgot the code that i memorized 5 minutes previously and set off the house alarm. oops.

was i the same when i got up this morning?
... if i'm not the same, the question is "who in the world am i?"
{alice in wonderland}

<3 & Regression

i don't understand those bitter single (or otherwise) people who gripe about valentine's day and its insincerity and commercialism. valentine's day is the perfect excuse to buy yourself a new shade of pink nail polish, eat a huge frilly box of chocolates all in one day, and bake strawberry cupcakes with sprinkles on them for the special people in your life. (you know: your secretary, the security guards at the courthouse, opposing counsel, and the cleaning lady. a very romantic day, as you can tell.) to me, these are all the essential elements of a holiday. like the 4th of july: excuse to go outside and eat hot dogs and watch fireworks. it's that simple. listen bitches, no one is forcing anyone to buy the life-size stuffed gorilla that is "ape over you." next year just put on your glittery eyeliner, chug a box of necco hearts, smear some vaseline on your teeth, and let the sugar rush carry you through the day.

huy did make a special trip to deliver an absolutely gorgeous bouquet that i smell every time i walk through the kitchen, resulting without fail in purple pollen all over my face. like that game with the magnets you can move around to give harry some rockin' facial hair. long live the general.

so i have made some new friends with psychology degrees. i took psych 201 ages ago, and all i remember is the video of the guy who had a railroad spike jammed through his brain and lived. but these psych people take nothing at face value. it's interesting to listen to them psychoanalyze each other ... but less interesting (read: more threatening) to listen to them psychoanalyze me. on wednesday when i was giving aaron a ride to work, i was treated to a lecture on ego defense mechanisms -- appropriately inspired by a fiona apple song. aaron managed to rattle off at least 20 types, things like denial, distortion, dissociation, intellectualism, regression, and sublimation. my self-proclaimed tactic of choice -- humour -- is considered one of the most advanced of the coping mechanisms and is found in emotionally healthy adults. kind of ironic. but apparently making a joke increases overall global utility by allowing others to enjoy your misfortune. i am enjoying the new perspective, but obviously am dedicated to my economics training. everyone loves a rational decision-maker! and free will to choose. (OK, maybe just me.)

now i am wondering if i have some latent conflict lurking in the background of my life that i am trying to avoid, because i definitely have been experiencing a lot of regression lately. i stayed up till 1AM on wednesday playing paper football (which sadly is a prohibited activity in the juvenile detention center). and spent a couple hours yesterday jumping on a trampoline barefoot in sub-freezing temperatures. and blowing snot rockets off of it. and used the office fax machine today to send secret messages to my friends. and let's be honest ... i don't have much maturity to lose. i already eat ice cream for breakfast consistently and think the automatic carwash is top notch entertainment. however, freud was on to something -- it is amazing how much better you feel after a long day with only a little laughter at some 4th grade humor. i think i'll invest in some pop rocks and silly string for office emergencies.

Snakes On A Plane

i have discovered the true test of friendship: the ability to watch a truly hideous example of film-making and then insist on downloading the soundtrack for your road trip the next day. snakes on a plane was so entertaining with huy and kim that i'd actually consider seeing it again. much like the classic throwback from freddie prinze jr.'s 24th birthday party: deathstalker2. here is a picture of kim and i being snakes on the sidewalk at the arizona-sonoran desert museum.

it has been a lot of fun having kim around and sharing her with my friends in arizona. i never laugh as hard or as often with anyone else. even though i almost gave myself a tracheotomy under her tutelage -- anything for the perfect photo with the bronze froggies at the desert museum. she documented our adventures in her blog but forgot to mention the hilarious video she took of me hocking a loogey on the snow-covered trail while we were hiking through the red rocks in sedona. (i think kim's memory of this may fade, but expect it will be resurrected in some form at an opportune moment, such as my wedding.) also thanks to kim, i did not have to shovel the driveway of 8 inches of snow all by myself! and we now have a favorite prescott beer: the pine tar. and i got to eat a lot of pie. woot.

otherwise i have been pretty caught up in my own life. side note: read "my life" as "my job." and read "my job" as "my clients." i got my first real case last week where a kid is actually charged with a real crime. unlike the one that landed on my desk this week -- aggravated assault for spitting in a teacher's coffee cup and watching her drink it. so there is some entertainment. i've also picked up a dependency caseload, which means i represent a lot of little babies that have been taken away from their dirtbag parents. excuse me, alleged dirtbags. last week i got to do a home visit with 2 little chipmunk-cheeked half-mexican babies, 1 of which was delighted to give me one million high-5s. the other one threw up all over my black turtleneck. his foster mom said: don't throw up on your attorney! the perfect remedy for a stressful day is to have a little baby fall asleep on your shoulder.