At this rate, I'm going to have to change the title of this journal to "A Sorta Weekly Journal."

But, as Myke mentioned a while back in his journal, when one is happy, satisfied, sated, or generally comfortable, perhaps there is not as much need for the catharsis that a journal gives. Which, for the most part, I am.

I still totally adore my job, as you've probably figured out on your own. I had a somewhat interesting arrest the other night, which started out as a very minor call--just a report of a vehicle in a ditch. Well, I get out there and it was instantly obvious that the driver had either been drinking or was on heavy meds because he thoroughly failed every field sobriety test that I gave him. So, after I gave up on trying to get him to stand on one leg, I gave my usual patter of, "Sir, I have reason to believe you've been driving while intoxicated tonight. I need you to please turn around and put your hands behind your back." Which he did, with no hint of non-compliance. I stuffed him into the back of my car, and then worked on paperwork whiel waiting for the wrecker to yank the guy's truck out of the ditch. Oh, and of course I called central dispatch and asked them to please run this subject "around the world" for warrants and history. That was mostly to save myself some time down the road, because when you arrest someone you have to inform the jail of the person's criminal history. (FYI-- to run someone around the world just means that you want them run through the local files, NCIC, State, Motions (the New Orleans system) and anything else they can get their hands on. Most of the time when we run someone, we just run them for locals and NCIC--usually takes too long to get the other stuff if you're out there waiting on a response.) A few minutes later, just as the wrecker pulls up, central calls me and says, "264.. 10-12?" Which means, "Are you standing right next to the bad guy, or can we go ahead and tell you this possibly unsavory information about him?" I gave them the go-ahead, since he was safely tucked away in my cage, and they proceeded to list a stack of warrants that were out on this guy from a a variety of jurisdictions. I had central fax all the info plus his history down to the desk, and when I got there I started glancing through his rap sheet.

Resisting arrest, battery, resisting arrest again, battery on a police officer, attempted murder of a police officer, discharge of weapon at vehicle, more resisting arrest...

I guess he'd been in a calm mood when I arrested him. But, as some of my fellow deputies said after they'd seen his rap sheet, you can never tell what kind of person you're arresting and what they might be capable of.

In less exciting/interesting news, I switched my celphone over to Nextel. The basic cost is more per month, however I get the two-way radio feature as well as the voice mail, text messaging, caller ID and regular mobile phone features. About half of the rest of my shift is already on Nextel, and we've all fallen in love with the two-way feature. I know what you're saying--we have radios already. But, with those radios everyone else in the department and everyone with a scanner can hear what you're saying. And when you're making snide comments about the idiot you just had to deal with at such-and-such address, privacy can be a nice feature.

Not that we ever make rude or disparaging comments about Joe Citizen. Oh no.

And, I even finally broke down and upgraded my Netscape, so that I can actually see all of Ron Collins' website. Well, his site is not the only reason I upgraded. I got tired of getting error messages at half of the websites I tried to go to. Dangit, I was enjoying being a luddite.

Not much other news to speak of. I finally sold my little pickup truck. It's been seriously brutally hot lately. Body armor + 100F = Mondo Sweat.

But really, life has been pretty settled lately.