there may be no point to this entry.

So one of the sad thing about mediating actual cases is that I can't really write about them - that whole confidentiality thing. Not that I don't feel pretty darned special to have documents and information that would violate federal law in the wrong hands. Not that I haven't handled confidential informationi fairly frequently, but the federal law thing involved with working an EEOC case adds this extra air of intrigue in my opinion. I am tempted to start carrying one of those handcuff briefcases that the spies wore in old espionage thrillers.

Of course usually the spies who wore these ended up separated from their lives and stuffed into a train luggage compartment, so perhaps it's better if I abstain. Plus, knowing me I'd manage to 1. lose the key and 2. scatter the papers while attempting to become separated from the briefcase... it would of course be a windy day and probably rainy and as I tried to run after them I'd manage to get the briefcase caught between things with an inevitable prat fall and perhaps an ethereal laugh track would boom from the clouds above! On the other hand, a little handcuff chain for my purse might not be such a bad idea. I'm awfully good at losing that little bugger, although I've had amazing fortune with the kindness of people on that count. There was the time I dropped it on the mean streets of Baltimore and some very virtuous woman found it, spent days knocking on doors and eventually tracked me down and mailed it back to me. Then there was the time I left it on the roof of my car at the gas station and a cab driver used my phone (which amazingly actually managed to be in the purse at the time) to call my mom and arrange for the phone to be returned to me. Purse karma has been quite good to me, but I'm not sure how much longer my luck will hold out.

Speaking of purses - sort of - I really need a new one. This one has lasted a pretty good year, but alack and alas as went the fuzzy leopard print purse, the black and red dragon stitched purse, and the infamous Hamburger bag... so must my pretty gold knit "Sac" off into the anals of my happy memory. It's begining to rip at the seams and the interior is anything but seemly. Purse interiors really might be some of the most disgusting things people rarely see. I think the true measure of an anal person would be a clean purse interior after a year of use.

It's a new "every-day" purse that I need. I actually have three really fabulous non-quotidian-clutches (NQC's). They are NQCs because they are slightly smalled than optimal for demanding uses I put purses through during my daily use and becacuse they are just too darned pretty to wear out and sully for anything short of an event. For instance, my most recent NQC (a Christmas gift from my dad):

At any rate, enough about iconic handbags. This has been a doozy of a week for me, as a first draft of a fairly complicated paper for my seminar/writing class was due this morning. I believe that the paper ended up being about the doctrine of informed consent and the therapeutic use of placebo therapy, but I could be wrong. There are a lot of footnotes - I do recall that much. It also had the working title of A Spoonfull of Sugar Makes the Medicine: What the Placebo Effect Can Tell Us About Informed Consent so it's a decent bet anyhow that these subjects came up ... I hope. I was pretty delerious near the end. Anyways, anyone who would be willing to read it is welcome to a copy. As protective as I feel about it, I'm trying to expose myself to as much feedback as possible.