New desk + someone else taking out my trash

Somehow in the process of moving, our old FutureDesk exploded. Now, I wasn't here when this supposed "explosion" happened, but I'm assuming it's just a story Stephen made up so he won't have to admit he couldn't lift the desk. Apparently, while carrying out the glass desk top, it simply "shattered". So, last weekend we made the hike out to Round Rock to Ikea to find a new desk. We ended up getting the stainless steel desk, so now we have the ULTIMATE FutureDesk. It's so clean and futuristic, I don't even want to put anything on it.

In other news, our apartment complex just began Valet Trash Service. Meaning I no longer have to go down a flight of stairs in order for the filth of our apartment to be gone forever. Which helps when it's rained for eight days straight, with no end in sight.

Special delivery

So, it's officially been two weeks since I began working at the Travis County Attorney's Office, and the experience has been going rather well. I started off hired in the Transactions division, which, from what I could tell, would have involved sitting in a small room (which contains a small fan that actually takes about a half hour to start up) with three other law clerks and researching things on Lexis. On day 2 and a half, I was whisked down to the third floor to start working with the Family Violence division. Things there have been much more interesting, in that I've mostly been watching prosecutors strike deals with defense attorneys and sitting through most of a jury trial.




Today was a particularly exciting day in Court 4. Fridays are pre-trial days, in which the prosecutors either strike deals or give defense attorneys discovery on the cases. First, not one, but two male attorneys came in wearing seersucker suits. I guess it is officially summer in Texas! Second, and less exciting even, was that a woman in the lobby of the court room went into labor while waiting to... do something. Oh, it was quite the commotion. EMS was called, the sheriffs were attending to the lady in the bathroom, and one other prosecutor was set in charge of caring for the woman's 2 year old son. That's totally part of the job description. Anyway, this kid got a sticker in the shape of a sheriff's badge (AWESOME), and from what I am told, also got a balloon, a stuffed dalmatian and a ride on the fire engine, so I think he came out on top of the whole situation.

As far as my duties go, my main job has been to watch the prosecutors and nod my head every once in a while. Sometimes I look over the files and tell them "what I think", which I am sure they value greatly. Finally, I wrote up subpoenas for a couple of days, so I actually feel like I might be contributing something.

In other news, Crazy Mexicans from Upstairs are gone. The apartment manager ran into me and Stephen outside our apartment on Wednesday, and she sang "They're goooone" with great glee. Now, it's our turn to move to the other side of the apartment complex. It'll be a hassle, but our new place has a balcony that faces a field, as opposed to the parking lot. Apparently we're not supposed to grill on our balconies, but now that our apartment will face nothingness, they'll never know of our covert grilling practices! Mwahaha.

Ay, yi, yi! We're probably moving yet again!

First and foremost, thanks everyone for the support and kind words re: previous post. Don't worry, things are going better and no, Philip, I am not suicidal.

My friends, I have previously been on the side of the law that dispenses justice (albeit in very short, uneventful spurts at summer jobs, etc). But now, I come to you on the victim end. That's right, we've had a break-in! As scary as Century was, with its homeless men living in the laundry room and reading porn advertisements, at least no one attempted to break in at any point. I'll break down the scene for you, as best I can.

Friday night, around 7:30 I was hanging out in the bedroom while Stephen was in the living room watching TV. Suddenly, Crazy Loud Mexican Neighbor who lives above us unlocks our door and walks into the apartment and starts heading down the hallway towards the bedroom. At this point, Stephen, in shock and awe, gets up and makes some sort of "What the hell is going on" noise, our neighbor turns around and says "Oh, sorry man", and walks out. At this point, of course, we are pretty much freaking out, call the apartment management and first things first, got our locks changed the next morning ASAP. Throughout the course of the past few days, we've talked to the cops, who first said "Well, there's not much to be done yet, but report it anyway", and apartment management who is pretty much evicting them, and giving us a new place. You know, so they can't stalk and kill us for kicking them out. Apparently this guy is saying that his key somehow worked in our lock. No, now he's saying that the door was unlocked. Now he's telling apartment management that Stephen tried to hit his 3 year old son. Whaaaaat?

It's quite an adventure being on this side of the law, but it seems like apartment management is being pretty helpful and our new place may actually be cheaper than this one. So now all we have to do is worry about our safety for about two weeks! BONG.