"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.