However, let me say one thing...

First, while it is true that some women (and a lot of them very young - 18, 19, etc) have bought into the heavily-marketed idea that in order to be thought of as worthwhile women they have to appear half-undressed, behave like sexual clowns, and follow the dictates of the media (which basically promotes the idea that women are pieces of sexual meat), we have to be aware that not all women buy into this shit, and it is shit.

Second, if we are to judge all women by the behavior of the worst ones (porn actresses, models for Victoria's Secret, and those humping one another - drunk - on the dance floor), we could just as easily judge all men by the behavior of the worst males (ones that rape, ones that hit, ones that are drug addicts), and so on. We could generalize till we're blue in the face, couldn't we?

Some men feel that it's "okay" to objectify all women and to post photos that objectify women, simply because there are some women out there desperately seeking male attention, or obtaining monetary compensation (porn, soft porn, etc.) by being the media's ideal and darling of the female sexual clown they (the media) adore to play up.

It was a murder case, and the defendant was a man who had allegedly shot to death a former friend, a man who had cheated with the defendant's girlfriend, who had gone around town convincing mutual friends that the defendant was gay, and who was now living in the defendant's girlfriend's house.

After the closing arguments, we, the jurors, were led to the jury room to deliberate the facts. The moment the door was shut, one white guy yelled, "I'm ready to fry the m@#$##@," whereupon he set about becoming the foreperson. He began to rush through the evidence, because, as he said, he had "better things to do" and wanted "to get the hell outta" there. He was one of those people that simply has to be the center of attention, and keep the attention of his audience, and a couple of other guys found him funny and laughed at his jokes and his abrasiveness. Then these two began to agree with his every word, and they became a team.

Up to that point, I'd imagined juries to be different, to be serious, responsible. I couldn't believe it. I'd never been a juror before, thought juries were those things on TV police and attorney shows, and I was soo disappointed that jurors I was serving with were behaving like complete a-hs!

I'd had just about all I could take, so I began to do the only thing I could do - disagree with him on everything (on purpose), debate every point he made, and hold up the process to force him (and the others) to consider and weigh everything carefully. Needless to say, I held up the jury by posing questions they were forced to discuss, and the foreperson became very frustrated, which made him look like an ass. Soon, one older man got exasperated with him and said, "Look, if you're not happy, let's call the bailiff and get the judge to excuse you." From that moment on he was pretty quiet and reasonable, we went through the evidence, discussed all points, and made a very measured, very cautious decision.

I SHUDDER thinking what goes on in jury rooms all over this country. People are people even in juries. People don't change simply because they're selected to serve on a jury. Republicans are STILL Republicans on a jury. Jury duty does not bestow on people a higher intelligence, more objectivity, or a stronger moral compass. Asses will still be asses, even when picked to serve on a jury.

It's been almost impossible for me to talk about it, since not a second passes that I don't miss them, and deal with the shock of having to spend the rest of my life without having them to call, talk to, take out to eat, buy things for, laugh with, and spend time with. I've cried so much I'm surprised I am still able to cry. I cry in the car, cry in the bathroom at work, cry myself to sleep. I've spent the past 3 months going through the motions of working, talking, functioning, and behaving as if I had it all together, but I don't. Inside me there's a turmoil, pain, and an incredible, heavy sadness.

They were the most wonderful parents, and that makes it all the more painful. I was truly lucky to have them as long as I did, but that doesn't provide any solace.

And today, Valentine's Day, I'm having an incredibly difficult time dealing with it all. Christmas and New Years I spent in a state of numbness, as if someone had severed nerves in my body. I barely noticed them because of how numb I felt. The holidays came and went as if they had not come at all. I could've been pierced with a lance, and wouldn't have felt it. For some reason though, Valentine's Day is proving to be excrutiatingly painful for me, and I don't even know why. It is the first holiday I'm fully aware of since mom and dad left me, and I feel a sense of isolation like never before, and wish that they could come back.