The pen is mightier than the sword

I am an alumnae of the Beta Theta chapter of Alpha Xi Delta.  Our pin is in the shape of a quill, to remind us of our motto, "the pen is mightier than the sword."  I am thinking of this today because it reminds me of the great responsibility not just AZD's, but we all carry, to choose our words wisely and meticulously, as they can have tremendous impact on the people who encounter them.

I have seen a lot of situations lately where people have used words to do some major damage to others. Hell, I went through it myself on Friday (See my last blog). And I guess if you want to get technical, it is an occupational hazard of mine, but I digress.   But one situation of late really reminded me of the quill:  Some friends had a falling out.  A couple of them extended an olive branch in hopes of at least gaining closure and peace--not necessarily to reestablish a full connection.  Like a strike from an expertly trained swordsman, the response they received was piercing and swift, and caused a lot of pain.

Before I go on, I must pontificate a bit and say that I believe that everyone is always entitled to their feelings.   I think that's normal. It's part of being human. As humans, we are entitled to feel whatever we want.  We have a great responsibility to ourselves to remember that it's okay to feel. Free will, it is a bitch (she says sarcastically).For the people in the particular situation above, I can only assume there is variety of feelings rolling around, making the world seem like they're look at it through a kaleidoscope.

However, I will also say that another large part of of the responsibility of being human is that which we have to each other.  Everyday, we are faced with the choice of how to treat people.  We are faced with the choice to say 'please' or 'thank you.' We are faced with the choice to say 'no, thanks' or 'eff no, are you stupid??'  I was speaking to another friend recently and she reminded me that if you put good energy out into the universe, you will get good energy back.  Karma.  What goes around comes around.  You reap what you sow.  (side note:  I love how I just unintentionally wrote the above line in a very abrupt Shatneresque manner. annnnyway...)

I believe the weight and value of our words are often overlooked, not necessarily by others, but by ourselves.  We have such a great responsibility to others in that each step we take in this intrinsic universal dance, that I think we often forget that everything we do is a cause and will elicit an effect.  I'm not sure which is more dangerous--those who do not take care to pay attention to their words, or those who are cognizant of their words, and meticulously choose them, with a blatant disregard for the feelings of those to whom they are delivering the words.

I've said it before, I'll say it again. In the words of Abe Lincoln as portrayed in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, "Be excellent to one another." So I guess today, I am thankful for the values that my sorority instilled upon me.  Yes, I struggle everyday to remember the weight of my words, and I think particularly more than others, merely for my chosen profession. But I try, and I guess that's all anyone can do.

Today's story is about a kid with a great future

A couple of months ago, I attended a CLE seminar, where a local judge regaled us with stories of his early career, visiting prisoners and interviewing them. There was one situation where the convict had a particularly nasty arrogance about him, and informed the lawyer-turned-judge that when he was done interviewing him, he would let the lawyer know, because he wasn't sure he really liked him or wanted to proceed. The lawyer-turned-judge (I like typing that) packed up his brief case and stood up to leave without saying a word.  The prisoner told him to sit down because he was not done talking to him yet, and he therefore could not leave until the prisoner gave him permission to.  To which the lawyer-turned-judge  replied 'the difference between me and you is that you are required to stay here. I however, am not, and may leave any time I like, because I am on the other side of the bars.'  The client shut up, and respectfully listend to the lawyer-turned-judge.

When I heard this story, I thought the way he exercised control over the situation was admirable; I never thought i would say something like that to one of my clients.  I pride myself in the patience and respectful tone I am able to exercise over my clients.

 Today, for the first time, I got up mid interview with a client and told him I was done and when he was ready to talk to me, I would listen.  I should note that this was after about 20 minutes of dandy proclimations from my client such as 'you are with the prosecutor' and 'man, court appointed--more like disappointed. You are the shittiest lawyer ever' and 'hey, you slacking on your job--i aksed (sic) you to get me my paperwork. Quit being a lazy bitch. You don't even know what you need to do anyway, cause you court appointed. You suck at your job.'  and gems such as 'you think I'm scared of prison? I ain't scared. I know people who go in and out all the time. I ain't worried about nothing.  I just don't like that you're screwing me on this. I'll be in and out in no time, and you will still be here, doing nothing.'

At that point, I got pissed. My filter faded away.  I lost my ability to remember that he is a broken and dejected kid who knows nothing but the streets.  I told him that judging by the fear that crept across his face when I informed him that he would be doing a mandatory sentence of two years, and his excessive lashing out, I would have thought otherwise of his proclamation of fearlessness, but if he wanted to continue to deny it, and refuse to be open in communicating with me, then that was fine.  I then told him the conversation was over and I would inform the prosecutor of how we will proceed from there.

Yeah, I am not proud of how I handled that. I am quite ashamed, actually.  For two reasons. First, I let him get to me.  I didn't sit in my objective seat and keep the emotion out of it. I let his barbs cut me and I did not rise above.  I spend so much time trying to sit in my objective place that sometimes it's just exhausting. I liken it to being the referee at a volleyball match--I am able to see the game up close, but I am sitting up above the game, and able to see things from a distance, and not get too involved.  Sometimes I feel like I fall out of my chair and get tangled in the net. 

I am without a doubt, my own worst enemy. I know I can't be perfect.  But it's like I'm hit with one thing after another these days....

Ok I just have to blog about this because I am really annoyed. No attempts at being witty here, just a complete purge and expression of emotion about some stuff.

I was really good friends with a couple of people and they very suddenly cut me out of their lives. I don't know why. They have not only deleted me from facebook, but blocked me as well. I haven't spoken with them in a few weeks, and the last time we were speaking, it was to plan a trip to get together. I have no idea where this could have come from. I texted them to ask what was up, to no avail. I respect their decision (although I am completely baffled), but i am really put off by the fact that they just completly cut off contact. Who does that? I mean seriously, I am still fb friends with the guy who didn't have the balls to fire me, and his posse--and these alleged friends, people who I considered among my closest friends at one time (though we have admittedly grown apart, but due to time, other commitments and distance), can't even say 'hey larissa, we have a beef with you about x?' What the fuck is wrong with people today?! What it comes down to is that my feelings are hurt. I hate that.

Beef number 2: I am currently observing a situation in my job where my client's soon to be ex is acting extremely manipulative, is calculating and a bit nutty. I can see it a mile away. Everyone can, including my client. The ex is just rotten and in my opinion, as mad as a hatter. Lately, I have purged a few people like that from my life (both personal and professional), and the more I deal with people like that, the quicker I become less tolerant, and dare I say, quicker to purge them from my life. I used to be SO tolerant and forgiving and understanding of people's behaviors, quirks, etc. I think i still am. I am still nice and kind and accepting But I just can't do bs anymore. I can't take excuses, lies, bullshit. I'm sick of being burned. I am sick of people who burn others. The minute I smell even a hint of any of that, it's like I transform into an angry and hungry velociraptor. I hate that. Because of my ever-shortening fuse, I feel like i am combatting two natures within.

I guess the moral of the blog tonight is: I just don't get why people think it's okay to act the way they do sometimes. Whether it be by sense of entitlement or by virtue, I am just fed up with shitty behavior. >:/

I think he christmas season will do me some good this year. Nothing like a little Christmas Spirit to make you feel good.

Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly

Ive been thinking a lot about the title quote by Robert Kennedy lately. I have felt enormous pressure lately about failing. I feel like I have taken so many risks over the past year or so, and it's getting to me. With each failure, I think, 'shit, here I go again.' and with each success, I think 'ok that's great, but how can I improve?'

I can't think like that anymore. It's not good for the soul. It's not loving. I will never feel successful at that rate. It's not that I'm afraid to take risks anymore; it's that I tire of the disappointment. My greatest fear is not failing; my greatest fear is letting the way I react to failure turn me into a callous, cynical bitch.

Voltaire said 'you can't control the hand you are dealt, but you can control how you play your cards.' I now choose to play my hand differently because at the turn of the day, the only one who can fight my cynical side is me.

blog this.

At the most kind and gentle requests from a handful of friends who find my writing at least some what amusing or interesting, I have decided to take a gander in the ole blog once again. It has been too long since my last post. I feel better when I blog. It allows me to get things off my chest and calms my ever-increasing eye twitch. I vow to make a better effort at blogging more often. And let's face it, I just like to talk about myself, so why the hell shouldn't I blog more often?

Annnnyway, today is a watershed date in l'histoire de Larissa. I finally settled a case I have been working on for over a year. I daresay that 'working on' is far too light of a term for this situation. I worked my fingers to the bone on this case. I fought the good fight, spent countless hours on this case. I have put more time, energy, effort and xanax into this case than any other (I jest about the xanax--I've never actually tried it. Though I hear it's delightful).

I have been envisioning the day my client would sign the final judgment for months now. I could just see her clicking the blue, medium point pen, slowly putting the pen to paper, and signing the paper that would change her life forever. I could envision the sweat gather on her upper lip as she wrung (wringed? wrings?) her hands together in anticipation of what was to come. I could see her breath quicken in anticipation of me taking the copy from her to file with the court. In my head, this all happens with great heaviness, as you would expect in a nice dramatic, funny 80's coming of age story about two teenagers finding their way in the world, with a great soundtrack, likely produced or directed by John Hughes.

But that's not how it happened. I fought until the very end, like I always have in this case. I thought for sure she wouldn't sign it. The signing was anti climatic, and over in all of about 5 seconds. Confident she wouldn't complete the end task we set forth together to do over a year ago, it was in fact I, who reacted the most. I gripped the arms of the chair, leaned forward and felt my pulse quicken. I could almost feel my pupils dial ate as I licked my lips and leaned forward like a cheetah about to pounce on its prey. I was so overt in my actions, my client stopped before signing and asked me if I was supposed to witness her signature or something.

After it was all said and done, I thought I would feel some relief, some reprieve some...well, something! But there was nothing. I mean, this is a case which has caused my insides to twist and turn and tangle, and I get nothing??? If you add up all the time I spent on this case, and divide it by what I charged her (read: charged, not what she has paid me, because that's even more disturbing than a torture porn flick), it comes out to less than $10/hour. All I could think of is the best way to copy everything, and at about what time I could get out of the office to file the damned thing. There was no satisfaction. No sense of accomplishment. But there was no let down either. Just...nothing. Maybe I'm just too spent on this thing to give a shit anymore.

What i can take away from this, however, is the fact that I learned more from this case than probably any other. It is the difficult ones that burn you, from which you learn the most.

Welp, that blog went in a completely different direction from which I had anticipated, but you can't always predict where life will take you. I have a lot of ground to cover. lots going on.