NUTS

In the last 24 hours, I've misplaced two train tickets, my work pass, my house keys and my mobile phone. This has caused me to have countless bi-polar moments resulting in arguments with myself. I am certain that our neighbour across from our apartment is convinced that three people live in number 8 instead of two due to the number of rows I have upon on my own person with no one else in the room.


"where have you put it John?"

"You haven't put it in it's right place have you?"

"why can't you make things simple?"

"why do u always do this"

"can't you just get your act together

"why! why! why!"
The dialogue is even scarier when I start answering back my own cross-examination. This is followed by the throwing of numerous inanimate objects blaming them for the disappearance of the missing item. I will then turn to religion and blame God for everything in the hope that God may produce the sort after object. Call it tough love if you will. These moments of absolute demented frustration seem to develop fantastical beliefs in my psyche that there are indeed fairies, leprechauns and angels deliberately stealing my things and making life very difficult. The truth of the matter is of course that I am a hopelessly disorganised unfortunate who could not find his way out of a paper bag without losing the paper bag first. On the day God was handing out the Organising & Tidying Genes, I was out at Happy Hour having a martini.

HAPPY ENDINGS

We have a cleaner who comes once every fortnight at 7 AM.....yes that is 7 AM. Steven his name is and my brother usually deals with him. I've continually laid down my objections to help coming at such an ungodly hour but my brother insists on allowing him to attend at such a time ......"as it is the only time he can come and he is very very good. Just deal with it." He is very good and indeed we were on a waiting list for some 12 mths waiting to get him.....someone eventually died and we got the Tuesday 7AM slot. I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON....as most of my friends know. When dawn simmers and mobile phones alarm, I generally wallow in devastation under the dooner for hours refusing to accept the reality of the onslaught of another day. As a result, I generally never see Stephen. My brother gets to deal with him and I lock myself in my room and snooze until he leaves.......which generally makes me quite late for work as he sometimes doesn't leave til nine. VERY ANNOYING.

Anyway my brother has been away the last few days and therefore, I had the task of dealing with Stephen yesterday morning. I didn't get home from work the night before til about 11pm and by the time I got to bed it was about 1am. My alarm sounded at 6.30am. Instead of my normal wallow tactics, I was straight up, put my porridge in the microwave and had a shave and shower. I wanted to have most morning activities down by the time he arrived. I switched on the telly to Today and found Richard Wilkinson coming live from London where he had just been to the world premierre of Sex and The City.....he had interviewed Carrie and the girls and that was going to be on the show at 7.20am. Greash I thought......I will have my porridge whilst watching that. I returned to bathroom activities and the intercom buzzer rang as I was alighting from the shower.

I grabbed my porridge and let Stephen in. Even though I'd showered, shaved, moisturised and performed morning ablutions, I was still very much shell-shocked and disillusioned at being awake. That's the way I am for the first hour out of bed every morning. I liken it to the immediate aftermath of a car accident where you sit there and can't believe it has happened: absolute shock.

So I sat there on my couch refusing to believe I was there, wishing I were still embedded in posturepedic slumber. I smothered my porridge in syrup and focussed on Lisa Wilkinson on the tellie wearing yet another ridiculous blouse. The story on the Sex and the City Movie was minutes away. Richard Wilkins had just been to the world premiere in London and he was coming live from Leicester Square. That was something to look forward to in this shadow of absolute lethargy.

If only I could stop the noise. The noise was Stephen. He talks like a Victor Lawnmower….static in all directions. In the space of about ten minutes he covered the following topics. I interspersed these topics with "Oh really's" "Yeah's" "Awful's" "Oh you poor thing's".

1. He'd been sick with the flu (yes he had been: he cancelled us two weeks ago due to flu). He described the flu symptoms and how he was in bed for three weeks so much so that his water bed burst and he had to buy a new bed. It sounded disastrous but really all I wanted to do was go back to bed and smother myself in porridge and shut the world out.

2. How he lost one client because he rang in sick…. on the Sunday just gone ….his only sick day with her in five years and she sacked him for being inconsistent. V. Rough. Indeed. But not with my porridge and my devastation.

3. He's been painting the side of his house and he fell off the ladder scraping his left calf muscle which has now become infected. He showed me the bandage and apparent limp. Dreadful. Poor thing. But really….most definitely not with my porridge and please mind my devastation.

4. Not drawing breath he then moved onto his bad back which he has always had but was made worse by the water bed bursting in the middle of the night and him waking up at 4 in the morning on the cold wet base of the bed. Add to that the falling off ladders, cleaning numerous houses and subsequently buying the wrong mattress had only exacerbated the back problems.

It was terribly terrible (I backed it up with a number of " how awful Stephen"s) but I could not deal with it. The Sex and The City story was about to start and I had to see it as well as preferrably, hear it. I turned the volume up and started shovelling porridge. Stephen heard the SATC soundtrack and immediately walked into the living room. Maybe he would be quiet for the SATC story I thought. Maybe he was as big a SATC tragic as I was. Richard Wilkins with extraordinary tooth brush hair did his piece to camera and Stephen was quiet. Fingers crossed he was going to remain so. There were shots of SJC (wearing what appeared to be a potplant on her head), Cynthia Nixon (missing her bra), Kristin Davis (with her mouth always opened) and Kim Cattrall (looking suspiciously smooth skinned).

It was at the sight of Kim Catrall, that the silence was again shattered and Stephen started his Victor Lawnmower of a throat announcing:

" She is my favourite. The best episode is when she is going to that women's health club and demands a happy ending off that masseuse."

Me: "mmmmm," I uttered urging him unsuccessfully to be quiet. Richard was talking to SJC. I wanted to know what on earth that was on her head.

Stephen: "I get them all the time" Me: "yeah." I wasn't really listening. SJC was saying it was Vivienne Westwood…the plant or the dress? Stephen: "I go to two every week….one on the Friday and one on the Tuesday just after I've finished here."

Me: "Really." Please shut up. I continued to munch on porridge trying to lip read.

Stephen: " It is the best stress relief. Mark is his name. Phillipino....I thoroughly recommend him...I can give you his card."

I gave up. I was never going to win: " Sorry Stephen what are you talking about?" I asked politely as I could, yet not remotely interested in the answer.

Stephen: "Happy Endings"

Me: "Happy what?"

Stephen: "Endings.....". He looked at me as if I was missing half my brain. Well I was ...it was asleep.

It then woke up. "Oh.....what...after a massage?". I put my porridge down and quickly grabbed my glass of orange juice. Was it wrong to add vodka at 7.30 am? I watched Lisa's Crystal Carrington style blouse shimmy on the television screen and pondered the situation presented to me.Here was my cleaner esconced in rubber glub and cleaning product offering me the service of his own personal "masseuse with benefits". Did I really look that bad at this time of the morning?

Stephen shoved "Mark"s card in my hand and patted me on the back, " He's great. He goes all the way."

I took the card. I smiled. I finished my orange juice. I looked at Lisa's blouse again.I had run out of words and I prayed Stephen had as well.

He had not.

There were more bad backs, bad clients, bad pets, bad bathrooms and bad kitchens but most definitely NO happy endings.

C

Britney's Follies

It's a while since I've mentioned her......I love this quote....

"But hail the doyenne of odd, Britney Spears, who surprised staff at a Los Angeles tanning salon by wandering the corridors, and then ordering a latte, in the nude. For some, the mad parade of inherent peculiarity rolls defiantly, and inexplicably, on."

Deterrence

Today at work we all attended our agency head's presentation on the corporate re-structure our government agency is about to undergo in 4 months.

We have all been aware of the impending re-structure and today we were told what that will exactly entail. I'm still not quite sure what that is.

An american man gave one of the other presentations and I found him most entertaining.....so much so...that I thought he was the half time act. I became more concerned though when I realised he is actually the main engineer behind the re-structure. He is the man our agency has paid millions to advise our agency on how to operate. And if his flowcharts are anything to go by, we're in a lot of trouble. Each chart resembled a Picasso painting with arrows. Such artistry is perhaps suitable for a gallery whilst consuming a pleasant cheese on cracker with a glass of shiraz but not as a communication device for conveying management issues in one's government funded organisation. Still as I said, he was most witty and should definitely consider getting an agent as I'm sure he could sell out stadiums in Vegas.

The upshot of the presentation however is that none of us are losing our jobs..... we are all keeping our jobs....well a job...not necessarily the job we have now at the agency but still....a job.
And it appears that I am going to be moved into a branch entitled Deterrence.

Does that make me then a deterrent?

Almost 7 years of practice and I am to become the legal professional equivalent of a can of Mortein?

Super

C

Colour Me Doris

An excerpt from this month's Vanity Fair article on DD.

'Having met a number of Brogan's potential boyfriends, Day was discussing his problems maintaining a relationship and asked him what he looked for in a man. After Brogan's litany of positive qualities, Day, sipping her third Dewar's on the rocks, said, "Don't you also think he should be well hung? You know, Barry was, and it made up for a lot of other deficiencies.'

Here here….

FINGER LICKING GOOD

Yesterday was nothing short of hideous.

Hideous people. Hideous matters. Hideous unnecessary stress. And hideous weather…..as I recall….it may have been a splendid looking day but it was greyed by my hideous experiences.

Got a phone call Monday afternoon from an assistant to one of my witnesses in a hearing I was to run yesterday advising that the said witness could not attend court as the said witness was on vacation. Time 11.15am :

Me : "Umm…..well how do you expect me to run that matter without a witness? I advised you guys of the Hearing date back in February."

Assistant: "Yes….I'm sorry….it appears we overlooked it."

Me: "It appears you did…..where is he?"

Assistant: "The Maldives."

Me: "Handy."

I hung up sounding more disgusted than I actually was. The truth of the matter was that I didn't particularly feel like doing a hearing the next day as I have quite a large callover list to prepare for next Tuesday. That was until I advised the registrar of the court that the matter would not be proceeding. I was under the impression that this particular defendant was not legally represented. I receive an email back from the registrar advising the following:

"Thanks for advising me. You might want to advise the defendant's solicitor ____________ (someone I've been against before in matters and don't particularly adore)" Lets call him Awful Horrid Man.

My heart sank; primarily because Awful Horrid Man (AHM) would be seeking costs for the vacation of a hearing at such short notice. I've been in this job for almost two years and I'm yet to have a costs order made against me. It's not the end of the world when it happens but at the same time, it makes the government branch for which I work, look a little unprofessional…even though technically we had done all that we could to make sure our witnesses were present on the day of the hearing.

I have worked alongside and against Awful Horrid Man in a number of matters through the court system over the past seven years. He resembles a cross between a hippopotamus and Oliver Cromwell with the latter's ego firmly in place.

He picks up his phone and barks his name out like his declaring war:

ME: Hi AHM, it's JC

AHM: Ah yes Mr C, I was wondering when you were going to call. I still haven't received a brief from you.

ME : Well I served one on your client quite some time ago.

AHM: But I'm acting in the matter. It's on the court record.

ME : Unfortunately the court has only just advised me of this. I was under the impression your client was self-represented.

AHM: Well my appearance was announced by my agent the last time the matter was before the court. This appears to be the case. Unfortunately the solicitor assisting me in the registrar's court that day had not noted his appearance. Great.

ME: Well you were obviously aware I was acting in this matter and you've never contacted me. In any event, the hearing cannot proceed tomorrow as I have just been advised by the office of my witness that he is away on vacation. There appears to be an oversight on their behalf as to his availability.

AHM then reacted as if I'd taken his client's first-born child and put it in the microwave. "Outrageous!" was followed by "Unprofessional!" followed by "My client is ready to proceed!" This was ironic considering AHM was just protesting that he was yet to receive the prosecution's Brief of Evidence……he was no more ready to proceed than my witness was going to give evidence via telephone from a beach in the Maldives with his file in one hand and a martini in the other. But he had the upper hand……I was of course the prosecution and technically because I'm the mug who lays the damned charges, I'm the one who is supposed to have his arse in gear ready to proceed. It is the common law system of justice after all………not a bush dance.

AHM: Well MR C I don't know about you but I will be in court tomorrow with my client ready to proceed.

I bet you are I thought. You want to pick up your 2 Grand in costs for a measly 2 min appearance.

ME: Look forward to it. See you then.

Which was polite telephone fodder for I'd rather eat dead horse hair.

Sigh.

I dragged myself to court the next morning. It's an hour's drive from my apartment to the particular court that this matter was being heard. It was raining most of the way and the traffic was bumper to bumper so there was plenty of time for me to attempt to come up with ingenious "costs order avoiding" excuses as to why the matter could not proceed:

Immediate Muteness: I could suddenly develop acute laryngitis as I walk in the court door which prevents me then from running the hearing….it will have to be adjourned for health reasons thereby avoiding a costs argument.
Hostage: The witness is actually being held hostage in the Maldives (by a large martini and it refuses to allow him to give evidence)
Death: The witness is dead. (he can never come back from the Maldives)
Traffic: The witness is caught in traffic and has been held up (by that martini and the Indian Ocean)
Insanity: The witness has since been declared insane and remains in a mental health facility in the Maldives. I wonder if I can join him.

Of course none of these excuses were going to work, as it would involve submitting lies to the court and as an officer of the court, I certainly cannot be seen to be uttering such falsehoods….not to mention that these excuses would most likely result in my commitment to a mental institution let alone a prison cell.

I entered court room number two ready to have my parade well and truly rained upon. And I wasn't disappointed. AHM was there dressed like a transvestial cockatoo (who wears canary yellow suit to court? Seriously?) doing everything to completely ignore me. Vomit. I'd heard a rumour outside that Magistrate Lady Marmalade was on the bench. My spirits were lifted slightly in that she always reserves costs judgments until matters are complete…..in other words my bargearse friend may not have been getting his costs order that day!

Those spirits were short lived as soon as Magistrate Lex Luther entered the bench (obviously not his real name: his resemblance to the cartoon character is quite extraordinary though). He sat down, asked for appearances, I gave mine, AHM gave his. Pleasantries were exchanged.

Magistrate Luther : Mr C is this matter to proceed?

ME: Well Your Honour, unfortunately I am without my witness. There appears to have been a misunderstanding and he is away on vacation this week in the Maldives. I was only advised of this by his office yesterday.

Luther: The Maldives? How nice of him……did he send a postcard? Perhaps I should return the favour by issuing him a warrant for his arrest.

ME (I'd thought costs…but I hadn't thought arrest warrants): Umm Your Honour I understand that when witnesses fail to appear in court, it is of great nuisance to the court but in this instance, I don't think an arrest warrant for a witness in a summary matter such as this is required. Your Honour I would seek that the matter be adjourned for a further hearing date. (hoping that he would forget the idea quickly)

Luther: Would you now Mr C? I'm tired of my court being held up by lazy prosecution witnesses who have a blatant disregard for when they are required to be in court. Mr AHM what do you have to say?

Well of course AHM addressed his nutty honour as if he were addressing god …. how he had to miss the funeral of a dear friend to attend today's hearing…bla bla.…….if the friend was so damned dear, why didn't he ring me to have the hearing moved? Pig's bum. The sign of a superb advocate is his ability to bullshit like no other and make it entirely believable, which AHM did. His client does not have any money, he said, after losing all of it in his failed business (we suspect he still has money alright….money which he has funnelled out of his 'failed' business into another business avoiding his tax and credit obligations on the way). Unfortunately for me though, it never looks great when you are prosecuting someone who appears on the surface to be on hard times and your star witness fails to appear because he is not only on holidays but is in the 5 star playground that is the Maldives.

So I went down. His Luther Honour didn't dismiss the charges, he adjourned the hearing but gave me a whopping costs order which I had the thrill of giving to my boss this morning. Yay! Go my bonus for this year!

Driving back from the court, my car's radiator hose decided to blow bringing the car and most of the mid-morning traffic to a halt. There was steam, water, oil and embarrassment everywhere. I didn't give a shit. All I could see about a k away was the classic neon signs of KFC. After the morning I'd had I needed grease….the finger licking kind. I called the NRMA (breakdown service). They said they would be two hours. Perfect I thought. I pushed the car off the road; I locked it and made my way to those bright neon lights. I walked in, smelt the sweet anti-septic of the wet napkins mixed with the fragrance of fresh coleslaw and I knew I was home. I had not entered the hallowed halls of Colonel Sanders in over two years……it was time dammit! Like a junkie reaching for the needles, I made my way to the counter and ordered a bucket of original recipe. I sat down, looked out the window and much to my amusement I saw AHM in his 100k new Mercedes benz smashed right into the back of a pick-up truck with the words NRMA marked on it…….parked… right… next… to… my... car.

Finger Licking Good


C


PS
And yes I ate the entire bucket.

GOOD TIMES

Just off the plane from deliciously warm Brisbane to cold miserable Sydney. It's still summer in Queensland whereas we're full throttle into a wet winter in Sydney town. I had a wonderful weekend. My brother and I attended Liv and Steve's wedding on Saturday at Gianni's at the new portside development on the Brisbane River. My my Brisbane is such a different city these days to the one I left almost 7 years ago; very cosmopolitan, full of alfresco restaurants and cafes everywhere......and so multicultural......my god, Brisbane's idea of multiculturalism used to be the corner Chinese Restaurant and packet pasta....how times have changed. I had a ball at the wedding. It was a big law school reunion; saw some people that I had not literally seen since I left uni ten years ago. And my life was so different back then; I came out (both figuratively and literally) on the roof top of the Kookaburra Queen (Brisbane River Boat) on new year's eve 98/99 after drinking way too much champagne and attempting to kiss a mate of mine (tragic!). Half the people at the wedding including the bride were on deck to witness it all that fateful and "thank god it's finally happened" evening. All the straights out of the crew are married and have mortgages rivalling that of the debt of a small african nation. As for the all the homoxials, we're still in the cab que and dancing like it's 1999. And I wouldn't have it any other way!