It is the first day full day of the 39th year of my life.  I was thinking I would write an angst filled post about the unexpected twists and turns my life has taken, how chaos has been the rule rather than the exception, and making a list of regrets and laments.

But, what would be the point?

I believe in kismet.  I do.  It might be the fool’s way out of taking responsibility for poor forethought and bad decisions, but when I look at the crooked, cracked and pothole filled path that got me to this little square office in Takoma Park with two kids and a mortgage – well, I don’t know how it could be any other way.  Listen, I’m not saying it’s all good.  If I said that it would be an outright lie.  It’s not been all good.  If you go back to this blog in 2006 you will read some things that I am shocked I wrote about.  I exposed parts of me that probably should have remained behind closed doors.  In my 39 years plus one day, I have had a series of life lessons that I could have probably done without.  I have seen family and friends suffer at at the hands of our justice system in ways I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.  Marriages have disintegrated – poof – right before my very eyes.  Children have been born and died.  Children have been wanted and not had.  In 39 years plus one day my heart has been broken and put back together so many times that I wonder how it still keeps on beating.

But it does.  And it feels good and strong and ready to fight another day.

And, really, fight we must.  Each day (when my head isn’t up my ass) I make the rounds of the blogs over there on the right.  It is, indeed, the choir.  They all have a similar opinion on most matters and we have a nice time discussing the day’s issues and nodding our heads in agreement with each other.  Yes, there is grave injustice in that case.  Yes, the judge was horribly mistaken.  Yes, we are brave and strong warriors.  We pat each other on the back for fighting the MAN. Go us! And the fight feels so good that we then resort to fighting each other.  Our hearts beat good and strong and the fight is in us.  We are only following our natural instincts.  Is there any other way?

I have been asking questions and contemplating things.  I write this blog, see.  Some have called it ‘crappy’ others have said I spend too much time doing what I am doing right now, naval gazing and blathering on.  Others are fond of the self-reflection and the stories.  I have been accused of being too nice, or being a hatchet man, of being too lawyerly or not lawyerly enough.  I have been told I have a responsibility when I write and I have rejected that notion.  To whom am I responsible?  Who could possibly take what I say that seriously?  Or take it and misinterpret it to mean something other than what the words mean in their ordinary use?  It is just words written by a now 39 year old lawyer turned stay at home mom turned returning lawyer.  I would expect that people would take what I write in the spirit it is intended.

But maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe there is a responsibility.  Maybe people don’t know what the spirit that is intended is.   The bloggers on the right say big, deep, meaningful and important things.  Most of them have been at this criminal defense thing for a very, very long time.  A few are new and trying to learn.  I am. Both.

So, I don’t always write about big, deep, meaningful and important things because, at 39 years and 1 day I am still trying to figure out where I stand.  I have been at this law thing since 1997.  That is not a short amount of time.  But I was at home for two years.  And while I thought that my skills as a trial lawyer would be a huge asset, and dammit, it was only TWO YEARS.  I was wrong.  To those women who think they will simply scurry back to the workplace once they are done raising their children let me tell you this – you will be devastated to find that it does not work like that.  The world does not wait for you while you wipe noses and raise men.  It does not care that you baked banana nut muffins from scratch or got the kids to their activities on time.  The world wants to know who you have defended and when you had your last trial.  The world wants to know where you were and why you left it.

So here is the fatalistic portion of this post, the part where I tell you that it is kismet that got me back here.  Kismet that led me back to the arms of the law.  It is kismet that will define where all of this ends up.  I do hope,though, that I have another 39 years and 1 day before I find out.

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