"Yes, Your Honor"

The alarm goes off at 6:15 a.m. but of course, I go back to sleep. At 6:55 a.m., I wake up frantically, wear my suite that's just too small for me now that I have gained weight, and run out of the house. Thank God for learning how to program my coffee maker, so I can have the automatic brew at least.

I have an appearance in Los Angeles Superior Court, Downtown. I have to technically argue "our" motion, but this other firm in Sa Diego brought the motion, before the case was transferred to us, and guess what? they screwed up, wrote a bad motion and I already know we have no chance. So today, predicting what the ruling may be, I plan on "submitting" to the court: "Yes, Your Honor", "Thank You, Your Honor"...basically, I plan on shutting up, which isn't too easy for me most of the time but hey...I am leaving here anyways. Whatever happens, I don't have to clean up afterwards.

Of course, I am stuck on the 5 Northbound, right after the 91. I switch radio stations constantly. NPR only talks about deaths in the Middle East and the corruption of the White House here. Ryan S. on KIIS FM talks about other people's affairs on air. Why can't we have a program that's just normal Not so serious and not so stupid? Do radio stations even think about commuters on the road?

I am running late. I call the court and let them know I am late. I exit Grand Ave. All the parking lots are full near the courthouse. If I have to pay $17 to park for half an hour, I'd rather be within walking distance. (and of course, they only take cash because they are owned by the Mafia).

Finally, I park and start walking. When I get to the door, I ask the security guy where Dept 28 is because the crowdest courthouse in Los Angeles County does not have a board indicating departments. He doesn't look at me (Reminds me of the Komeetehs in Iran who don't look at woman). He responds very arrogantly: "I think it's on the third floor".

I go in the elevator, out the door on the third floor and run into the department, where the hearings have already begun and the female judge is wearing a very bright lipstick and her highlights bother my still sleepy eyes. (Is it the lipstick or the fact that I am not even used to female judges?)

She calls the case. She tells me (because remember, I represent the "moving party"), that she has denied "our" motion. Duh! And, better yet, there is no room for arguing even.

She gives us the dates for trial, etc. I like her all of a sudden. She seems to have some degree of control in her courtroom and I like her even more for denying our motion because it means she read the law. (you will be surprised how many judges don't read the law).

We are done in about 3 minutes. Thanks. All the way from Tustin to downtown L.A., for 3 minutes...

I walk back but take the longer route from the back, where there is a Starbucks. Amazingly, I do that for the nice walk, and not to get any Starbucks. Wow.

I put my sunglasses on. As I walk down Hill St., it hits me that downtown is alive and I miss it. I remember the summer I interned at the City Attorney's Office, and the evening at MOCA with all that wine. I realize summer is coming and I have always loved LA Summers, with all its outdoor events...

As I am walking down, I see this guy from Law School that I knew. He is Russian, with a thick Russian accent and big Russian Blue Eyes. I am not in the mood for chit chat and I am always under the false impression that people won't recognize you with sunglasses...so...I pretend I don't know/see him.

Of course, my tactic fails. As he is passing by, he says..."Hey!'. I try to look surprised. Wow. Hi, How are you? Where do you practice? Blah Blah Blah...we exchange cards. Let's keep in touch...Blah Blah Blah.

I get back to get my car and pay my $17. Get back on the 5 South, back to Santa Ana, where things are just a bit slower. I realize that the worse part about being late to court is not having enough time to do a whole Sudoku!

And all along...it's just been a very ordinary morning.

Good-bye C1/C2 and L4-5 and L5-6

Maybe if I stop reviewing spinal strains/sprains records, I would slowly begin to heal and forget my own pain, which resulted from the MVA of July 19, 2003. Then, my infamous knot will go away eventually, and my out-of-pocket expense for chiropractic treatments will radically decrease.

Then maybe I can crack my own back and maybe I can learn to crack my own neck too. Wouldn't it be great if I become a self-sufficient cracker?

Reading and re-reading people’s medical records and their prior histories of chronic headaches, allergies and depression is just not a fun way of making a living. At least, when you have a dead plaintiff, you don’t have to review their records anymore as much. They are gone...over...finito.

There is a solemn mood overflowing the office. The official e-mail went out today, with subject "Layla". Wow.

For once in my life, I didn’t get stuck in something.

Congratulations and bye bye spinal cord problems...

No Salt, No Work

Gave my notice today.

Realized the salt shaker that I bought for my office last year when I started is out of salt.

It's time to go...I am just a salt person.

A Year Later...

I am sitting exactly in the same room as I was last year: my office, with its beautiful 9th floor view.

And it happened again. This year at 5:07 p.m. Last year, it was around 11:00 a.m. This is the second year I am not with family at Sal Tahvil. Last year, at least, they were only 10 miles away.

So much has happened...It reminds me of last year, when I went downstairs and checked my text msgs on that old rusty phone of mine. Then, just a week later, I got my new Jeep. And a week after that, He came along and said Happy New Year. Then, He stayed. Of course, We got rid of that old rusty ugly phone of mine...with some minor resistance from me.

I miss Him so much.

And good-bye 9th floor view.

"Poshteh daryaha shahreest...."

I shall build a boatI shall cast it in the waterI shall sail away from this strange earthWhere no one awaken the heroes in the wood of loveA boat empty of netAnd longing heart for pearlsI shall continue sailingNeither I shall loose my heart for the bluesNor for t he mermaids who emerge from the waterTo spread their charm from their locksOn the shining solitude of fishermenI shall continue sailingI shall continue singing“One should sail away, sail away.”The man in that town had no mythThe woman in that town was not as brimful as a cluster of grapesNo hall mirror repeated joysNot even puddles reflected a torchOne should sail away, sail awayNight has sung its songNow it is the turn of windowsI shall continue sailingI shall continue singingBeyond the seas there is a townIn which windows open to manifestationThere rooftops quarter pigeons that looks at the jets of human intelligenceIn the hand of each 10-year-old child a branch of knowledge liesThe townsfolk took at hedgesAs if they look at a flame, a tender dreamEarth hears the music of your feelingAnd the fluttering sound of mythological birds are heard in the windBeyond the seas there is a townWhere the sun is as wide as the eyes of early-risersPoets inherit water, wisdom and lightBeyond the seas there is a town!One must build a boat

"Maybe commas are discretionary..."

He wears jeans and a T-shirt to work everyday. He refuses to abide by the firm policy of M-Th, business casual...although his last name is third on the door. (But wait, maybe he can refuse to abide by precisely for the very reason that his last name is on the door?!) When he has to appear in court, of course, he wears a nice shirt and a tie, but leaves the tie in the car right after he is done with court.

His wife packs his lunch everyday, which he carries in a plastic bag; He eats alone in his office.

His office is immaculate. The only files in there are the ones he is working on for that day. At the end of the day, his desk is clear.

He is verbose in his letters. Of course, the more you write, the more you bill. But attorneys are supposed to be brief and to the point. That's where we don't get a long. Maybe I should buy him that book about legal writing and brevity. Maybe I should do that on my last day here.

And of course, we have the "comma" issue. He simply uses too many of them. So finally, the other day, he came in and told me he has added more commas to my letters! Then he said, "I know commas are discretionary...but..."

Yes. They are discretionary and I refuse to overuse them.

Today's Mail is Ready

Finally, I have gotten some nerves to write this piece and talk shit behind her back since she is not here. Since she is gone to Cancun this week with her lawyer husband....

Every day, she sends an e-mail...ONE e-mail saying "Today's mail is ready". It comes around 2-3 p.m. I don't even open the e-mail b/c every day, it's the same. A while ago, I heard some obnoxious guys at work had started to forward her e-mail. As a joke of course. So you would get a FWD: Today’s mail is ready, a few minutes after she sent the first e-mail.

I envy her sometimes, envy her simple tasks during the day, picking up the phone, saying "Good morning X....Y....Z law firm" and these simple e-mails. Once I heard someone say that she spends her weekends in bed reading a book. I envy her being able to do that. I know she loves books. A couple of times, we discussed some books, like the Kite Runner or some other books related to the Middle East since she has married an Iranian man, she is "interested in the culture."

I wonder how it feels like to be her. To marry someone who will just take care of you and support you...to leave the office at 5 p.m. b/c that's when your work hour ends, and not to be expected to come in on the weekends. After all...her simple tasks will not be necessary on the weekends. That's how she gets to be in bed...reading.

I wonder if she is happy with her life sometimes? She doesn't seem happy. She seems like she wants more, like she would want her own office, like if she had been given the chance, she would have gone to school...she would have been a lawyer maybe...

What if she envies me? What if she wishes she was given a key to the office and could just drop by Sat. or Sunday or Wed. at 9p.m.? What if she envies me being able to go to calendar meetings? or go to San Diego to bet on horse races and entertain stupid clients...since only the lawyers get to do that? In fact, I saw her drop off her husband last year for our train to San Diego...then she sped off.

No...really, what if SHE envies me? That would be f*&^%ing hilarious!

On Getting Stuck

She asked" "Do you tend to get stuck in things?"

I responded "Yes."

Then I remembered that one time that I delayed and delayed writing a letter to the insurance company because I wanted to write them the most perfect letter...until the insurance ran out, and I had a car accident without any coverage.

And many many other times...