Month: November 2003

forensic psychology

how exhausted I am. you can’t imagine how i’d love to be in bed right now.
and there is no reason I am not!

yesterday in a fit of stupidity I posted in my lovejourney for people to give me their addresses and i’d send them postcards. since then i’ve received 38 addresses. ok? i’m stupid. i’ll still send them, and to anyone else who gives me an address. I plan to go postcard shopping tomorrow.

okay! this morning I memorised my last lecture: suspect interviewing. want to hear it? ‘course you do.
inbau, reid and buckley’s 9 step approach to getting suspects to talk:

  1. positive confrontation (accuse, outline evidence).
  2. theme development (if the suspect is emotional, build rapport and minimise the seriousness of the offence/consequences. if the suspect is unemotional, intimidate and emphasise/make up evidence).
  3. handle denials and objections (interrupt them, restate evidence).
  4. retain suspect’s attention (move closer, touch, use first name).
  5. handle suspect’s mood (sympathise, create an air of remorse).
  6. create an opportunity to confess (give reasons s/he could have done it, “was it your idea?” etc).
  7. oral confession (obtain details with closed questioning).
  8. convert oral to written confession.

(if you’re thinking hey! there are only 8! handle denials and handle objections are actually two separate steps. I condense them.)

social psychological explanation (azjen and madden, 1986) – someone’s attitudes towards confession are based on their perceptions of the positive and negative consequences of confessing, thus minimise the negative and enhance the positive.

problems with the 9 step approach – immoral/illegal, may lead to false confession, inspires resentment towards police, encourages officers to lie in other situations, may have rebound effect (less likely to confess).

techniques to encourage confession – intimidation, situational futility (no-win situation, may as well confess), discomfort and relief, bluffing, gentle prodding, minimisation, pointing out inconsistencies in story, finding a lie and generalising it, expanding chinks in defence, self disclosure, pointing out deception cues (you seem awfully nervous, is it ’cause YOU’RE GUILTY?), concern/sympathy (I would’ve done the same), silence.

moston, stephenson and williamson (1992) – found that police interviews had little impact on likelihood of suspect confessing. severity of offence and legal advice had major impact.

gudjonnson and petursson (1991) – three categories of confession. internalised pressure, externalised pressure, proof.
gudjonnson (1992) – three forms of false confession. voluntary (honest belief in own guilt, to protect actual perpetrator, to impress, for attention, to cover up some other activity, illegal or not). coerced-compliant (due to the nature of the police interview – intimidation, particularly vulnerable suspects, ie: learning disabled “cop said ‘if you confess we can all go home,’ I thought he meant me, too”). coerced-internalised (comes to believe in own guilt. ie: drunk/blacked out & is not sure of innocence, demon possession, “cops say I did it, they have evidence, I must have done it”).

there is much more, but I think that is enough, particularly since the exam is over and I needn’t remember it anymore.

I had to talk to a girl from that class all the way home on the bus. it was excruciating.

Buddha’s deformed claw is blood red and swollen. it is very strange. I should photograph it. I plan to take him to the vett tomorrow. Sarah bathed him. don’t bath cats! she was severely scratched. good.

studying

wish i’d gone to bed earlier last night! of course I couldn’t, but still. wish instead i’d studied. I have to remember much more for tomorrow’s exam, because it is all essay questions and no multiple choice.

it is forensics. forensics has two lecturers, Mark and Kingsley.
Mark is great! compelling, easy to follow, entertaining. his lectures are well structured and easy to memorise.
Kingsley, on the other hand! this was his first semester teaching.. he’s a clinical psychologist. and you can tell. his lectures read as though they’re directed at psychologists clinical for 20 years. they’re complicated, they’re overly technical, they’re boring, and they’re very, very hard to memorise.
I did two topics by Mark in less than two hours. it took me over three hours and a bout of frustrated tears to memorise one topic by Kingsley.
but i’ve done it! I memorised the whole goddamn lecture!

in between I watched a silent movie from 1902 or something. in it, the morphine addict mouths, “let’s not kiss anymore, dear, until after breakfast.”

oh yes, minor breakthrough! I leant over to pet Buddha, sleeping at the end of my bed while I was studying, and I had a low blood pressure dizzy spell. I pet Buddha anyway until it passed, and physically it felt just like I was drunk, except for the head pounding, because my head doesn’t usually pound when i’m drunk. but if not for that, it would’ve felt exactly the same. I wonder if it always does, and I just never noticed, or only does when I am concentrating on something at the same time, like petting buddahs.
had to go back and capitaleyes two of those eyes.

so. back to studying. one more topic to memorise before sleep.

matrix

sleepless! I have nothing to do, so am talking to myself and jumping up and down as high as I can. oh my gosh, what can I do? besides study? it’s my non-studying day between an exam and another.

today today today today today today today, I went shopping. have been spending an alarming amount of money on frivolous things like books and stickers and cosmetics. $200 last week. well! I gave mumm my idea for daydream’s christmas present, so now have to think of another. mumm likes those crazy transparent toilet seats with shells and things inside so I might just get that for both of them. ’cause they’re so .. dear. even though I don’t know if he’d actually like it. well. i’ll think of something.

switched my mobile phone to telstra, and got a new number. I could never remember the old one. I won’t be able to remember this one.

went to see The Matrix with Sarah. liked it better than the second one. I seem to be the only one to think the second one an utter waste of movie space. it was such filler. not that I can remember it, but that’s what I thought at the time. maybe i’d like it more now. not that this one was that great. I hereby deny the existence of any but the first.

afterwards she went to a party and I went home. mumm and daydream had gone to Port Douglas for the weekend, and half way home I remembered i’d left my keys in my other bag. ee! so I had to break in.

ok. it’s nearly 4am. I should go to bed. BUT I’VE GOT THE BENDS.

exam

exam exam exam exam exam exam exam. I screwed up.
first I was late. i’d even decided to leave extra early, but instead left late. also managed to leave behind my timetable, so I didn’t know which room it was in. though since I knew the building and floor it was in, I went into the first exam room I came across and was half unpacked before I realised I didn’t recognise anyone.
“What subject is this?” I asked a supervisor.
“Tourism.”
so I tried the next one. yay! right one.
more than 20 questions were based on the first half of the semester, which I hadn’t studied for. I guessed a lot. process of elimination educated guesses! still, by the time I was finished I felt super confident and genius. then, halfway home, I realised i’d missed a whole essay question. we’d had to choose 5 out of 15, and i’d only done 4. it must be because in anthropology we only do 4.

home: did laundry. made my bed for the first time in 10million months. it is usually just a pile, ’cause i’ve so many pillows, and Riley the sleep spider. watched x-men.

… .. i’m trying to remember what else but can’t come up with anything.

crammin

I am not feeling very confident about my exam tomorrow. studying didn’t commence until this afternoon, and although i’ve memorised 3-4 pages so far, it doesn’t feel like much. it doesn’t feel adequate. I have 2 pages to go, which I will try to finish before I sleep. tomorrow morning I will try to cram more in. but. hmm. it’s because I didn’t do so spectacularly on the midsemester for this subject, only getting a Credit. it’s because this subject barely interests me.

it would be much easier if we didn’t have such a break between end of semester and end of semester exams. one week into the break and I feel my cognitive ability has declined to that of an 8year old. and my experiment design exam isn’t until the 28th! by then I will be an embryo!

I study cross-legged on my bed with a canvas-board across my knees as a desk, using all the ripped out leftover pages of my lecture books. door locked, window shut, air conditioner on, wordless music or dead can dance playing. sugarless gum. an hour-long break every hour.

yesterday I managed to rescue a half-chewed marsupial-mouse from the playfully murderous claws of Lila. I put it in a box for the night, to see if it would survive. today it escaped and Lila ate it. she crunched it between her giant jaws of death while I tried to pry them open. the big stupid dumb thing. she crushed it to death. when I saw its limp wet head poke out of her mouth I knew it was dead, and let her have it. then Sarah kicked her in the abdomen and tied her up. it had been getting better, limping about and eating peanuts; better enough to escape.

I went down to the surgery and picked up my prescription. she didn’t charge me. then I went to the pharmacy around the corner and filled it. $3.75 for a piece of mind.

passive aggressive notes

yesterday when I went into town I was supposed to get fleapoison for Buddha, because the carpet had been booked to be de-pested by pesticide men at 10:30 today. I of course forgot all about it. so I had to rush into Smithfield to get fur fleapoison, because it would be no good to have a flea-infested cat on freshly flea-less carpet. $40 capsules to squeeze onto his shoulderblades. the pesticide men cleaned and depested the carpet, and loungesuite, so now everything is shiny new and no fleas, hurrah. except the carpet fleapoison also kills geckos, so I keep coming across them twitching on their backs, and Buddha eats them.

i’d noticed my facewash kept mysteriously moving around the bathroom I share with my sister. so last night I left a note on the mirror, reading “PLEASE CEASE USING MY FUCKING FACEWASH I PAID 70 FUCKING $ FOR. KTHX.”
this afternoon, as she was popping in and out of my closed-door’d room, I said, “hey, did you get the note I left last night?”
“yep,” she answered over her shoulder, perfect picture of nonchalance.
“how come you didn’t say anything?”
she turned around, “well, it was pretty clear.”

this is everything I wrote in my notebook yesterday, since it all is fitting for a daily:

the other day mumm asked me why I never had crushes on famous people the way teenage girls are supposed to. of course I couldn’t answer it. anyway she asked if i’d had a crush on Kurt Cobain.
“you couldn’t call it a crush,” I said.
“but you were interested in him.”
“yes,” I said. “but i’m interested in Buddha” (he was on my lap).
I wish now i’d said “yes, but I was just as interested in Sylvia Plath.” same point, only more relevantly expressed.
(pen keeps going funny ’cause it’s raining and i’m writing on raindrops)

I just caught to [sic] 5-minutes-to bus to Uni to drop off a very overdue book (Sylvia Plath!). on the way I thought “good timing! then I can catch the 5-past bus to town (to buy cat-de-flea).” so when I got to Uni I raced to the library and back so I wouldn’t miss the 5-past bus. it was only when I got all the way back to the bus-stop that I realised i’d been on the 5-past bus! the bus leaves Trinity Beach at 5-to and reaches Uni at 5-past! what an idiot.

Smithfield – walked across the longest parking lot in the world, practically a desert trek. reminds me of the night x was beat up, except that lot was covered in snow.

bus stop – woman (old) with banshee voice and frightfully long toenails says (screeches) “we’re locals!” with a palatable/palpable sense of pride. “we’d be locals anywhere,” I say. another woman, trying to explain to a tourist that there is no bus to the airport, wiping at her eyes every three seconds.

flatt

I think, for a while, I should switch to entrying the next morning. i’m just not .. suitable. by this time of day.

I was supposed to start studying for Friday’s exam, today, and didn’t, and will not, by now. i’m tired, and grounded, I might go lie down. if I fall asleep, well, i’ll be so sorry i’ll be sure never to wake up. i’m sorry anyway.

screamingly bad

ooo! I feel fine when I wake up, positively great all morning, happy, full of productive and tasty juice. I feel fine in the afternoon, normal. then at about 5pm I start to go dowwwn, and feel just awful by midnight, screamingly bad.

so this is the first time i’ve had two entries in one day! although I am doing it early morning, tomorrow. you know if you search for “today” just about every entry comes up. 🙂

st_ranger called one of my lovejourney entries a poem, a while ago. so the other day, when I entried again, I said (tried to say), no! not poems. certainly not. anyway he took that entry (again calling it a poem), and did turn it into a poem.

I went into town to pick up my photos, and I was feeling so very joyous. practically skipping all over the place. I didn’t want to do anything for fear of it disappearing. I scribbled away in a notebook for hours and filled up my camera. after a bit I did feel (only slightly though) less, so went to see Kill Bill. have I mentioned i’m slightly in lust with Gogo Yubari?

anyway by the time I got home I felt same as always, only still more productive than usual. and you know, it’s the next morning, and I only just realised I didn’t eat anything at all yesterday. I drank a bottle of water, a bottle of diet coke, a bottle of pineapple juice, and probably around 6 glasses of cordial. how absurd.

starved for something

an ex-friend just gave a detailed description of how he got beat up so his face broke and now has to have reconstructive surgery if he wants to keep using it. it made me feel sick, I don’t want to know. about people hurting people. it makes me feel sick.

today, i’ll write about today tomorrow. i’m starved for something, I know that much. feeling hopeless, bad, hurt. I think i’m being lied to. I want to.. want to fucking __ I don’t know. hopeless, yes, i’d like to die, tonight; I request the Universe poison me in my sleep, crush, suffocate, implode. drowned in ichor, eaten alive, dissolved, turned to stone/dust, head on a pike, left for nocturnal creatures.

I feel you’re a wall, and I could pound on you but you’d still be a wall. a dull, blank wall. a dumb, white wall.

presentish

oh! it was only the 10th today. i’m futurish.
well! I have been very strange! I think tomorrow I really must pick up my prescription, even if only for placebo safeness. I also have to go all the way into town to pick up photos, so shall go to the theatre while i’m there.

but! stop being futurish! ok, today I.. made a new unpuppet.com. much better, and with no livejournal spying. and a fruit salad. i’m the best fruitsalad maker in the world. except it takes ages and is eaten up quick as a flash by hoards of juicy-fruit-ravenous family members.

oh yes! went and picked up my forensics essay. 82%, only 3% off an HD. and I was so scared after hearing the mean score I frogleaped all the way home. hurrah! except she wrote twice that I need to shorten my sentences. ph!

today I smoked an entire cigarette. tomorrow I shall drink an entire cup of coffee, to see which makes me feel worse. i’m thinking it will be coffee, though I still feel a bit nauseated from the cigarette.

o well

mmm. tired. spent the past three hours working on something I eventually got fed up with and deleted.
fed up! i’m just tired. my eyes feel glued. I didn’t really get fed up, just tired.

can pick up my forensic essay tomorrow after two! she said the mean grade was 65. yipe.
I accidentally kicked my camera across the room.

Lila woke me early, barking at my window, from a dream. I thought, “oh, I must remember it!” and thought about it very hard so as not to forget. i’ve forgotten, obviously.
i’ve never actually heard anybody snore.

sigh

completely flat hair. to achieve it I wear a hat for an hour after washing it.
I shouldn’t impulsively spend $200 on furniture i’ve no place for. so didn’t! 5×7 prints cost $5 each, while 4×6 are $1 (matte, white-bordered). a movie is $10 (except for cheap Tuesdays) and so is a my little pony. a happy meal is $3.95. cashews are $17 a kg.

so. so. I went Christmas shopping with mumm. she’s decided to have lunch at her house, rather than Lunico as usual, and dinner at Trina’s. for lunch she needs a new dinner set; square, silver-lined plates and bowls.. but is having trouble finding a long enough table-runner with matching placemats.

I wish I could find my Freshwater photographs. the album has disappeared, obviously stolen by some spy or other.

we went to Palm Cove for dinner, a restaurant with a flute player weaving amongst the tables. Barramundi. they argued a lot while I sank further and further into my chair, until mumm asked me for my opinion. I said, “you are being slightly irrational.”
then when Chris said, “well I didn’t shove it in your mouth” (he gave her raw meat without telling her it was raw meat, and she can’t eat faintly pink steak), I told him to shut up.
she is irrational. but he is so very maddening, half-hearted excuses, and lies all the time, badly.
they started again afterwards, at home. she was crying, and I heard her say, “I’ll get Jess to come and stick up for me.”
ee! went my brain, and I locked my door.

forget the feeling

today I didn’t accomplish anything concrete. gosh. what did I do? a whole day. I watched Monk, watered the starving ferns (quite an undertaking). took some pictures. did some business stuff. i’m thinking of going local, having an Australian site. 95% of my customers are still American. and the Australian dollar remains so annoyingly strong…

forgot to pick up my prescription. if I remember on Monday, I then have to remember to fill it! oh, how complicated life is.

people get grumpy, bad-tempered. they needlessly snap and lash at the innocent, stalk about with persistent scowls, over-reacting and seeing everything worse. hmm? is it chemical? holding grudges, unconsciously picking fights, frown lines? mmh, I don’t understand, sometimes think I am not a person.

they’re home! my cue to fade into the walls, inconspicuously retire, or jump into bed and pretend i’ve been there for hours.

one year away is practically tomorrow.

fortune cookies

i’ve a burden to unload: I every now and then buy an entire box of fortune cookies. and eat them all. I love fortune cookies, they are fairy food. I have about 20 fortunes from the past few days and am wondering what suitable creative use to put them to.

hayfever day today. I took a pill and slept; can never do much else. it must be the lack of endep, a side effect is allergy suppression. i’ve called for a prescription, just have to remember to pick it up tomorrow. or sometime.

I loved the way Goren said to little-girl-Sophie: I’m a police-mAn.

you know, I think we’re only six feet apart.