January 20th, 2010

queer as a three dollar bill

So there's this trial.

We join our heroine in medias res, having left her about to go to chicken camp, and returning to the tale some six weeks later clearly having accomplished chicken camp, and also having had One Of Those Mornings on a recent day.


...So when I *finally* get my ass down to the courthouse Friday morning, events have started for the day and I'm relegated to the overflow room, not that I mind, because it's less crowded and it turns out that you can see the lawyers there in a way you can't in the main courtroom (as I found out today).

Several hours of stultifying lawyer-ing later, and a reunion with JD at the first recess, and a hasty retreat back upstairs to the overflow room, I am about out of my mind, and I have commenced with the sketching.

The lady with the loud but awesome black and white print dress and the red sweater and the prominent scales pin hails me. "You're really good at that," she says. "Are you a courtroom artist?"

!!!!

I am not, actually. And the long and the short and the business card and the hissing from JD ("Do you know who she is?!") and the quick trip to borrow some scanner (already set up) and some Photoshop (I don't have it, and while I have The GIMP installed it's on the other computer) of it is that you right-click, view image, and then you see the full size version. I'll get them up myself one of these days too. http://www.marriageequality.org/index.php?page=sketches

And then there was the three-day weekend, and then there was today, and there I was; until lunch we were in the downstairs courtroom, the real one, and I drew my pictures.

Prop 8 trial observer makes with the binoculars to get a better view.

Then we went upstairs and by that time we were starting all of us to become punchy, and when defense committed a particularly egregious sin of statistics I sketched a quick diagram of I SEE WHAT YOU DID THAR and flapped my arms and completely lost English in my flapping and pointing.

A Prop 8 trial observer in the upstairs overflow room makes a bunny shadow in the light from the evidence monitor projector (which had no signal at that moment).

We came home the roundabout way. There was walking. There was grocery shopping. There was my first ticket inspection on the MUNI. There was scanning, dinner, more walking. Tomorrow, all being felicitous, there will be busting of myths, several women 18+ who have never had children at a time.

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