HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS; or, Guess Whose New Nickname Is “Left Without Signing”

May 17th, 2013

Do you know that I won twice in court in ONE DAY at the SAME TIME??? Both cases were at 8:45 this morning.

My ex-GAL wanted to mediate like PRONTO, as soon as we were asked if we wanted to. She tried to hand me a cashier’s check for the first amount that I was supposed to pay, but since I had to cover SeaFed’s part it ended up being more, and I asked for what I had actually paid–$2000. I am supposed to get that check in the mail next week. WE SHALL SEE. She also complained at the adorbs law student mediators about how long it was taking, which I thought was pretty weaksauce. We were getting a mediator to draw up paperwork for my wimpy little small claims filing fee. Mediation can run anywhere from $100-$300 an hour, roughly speaking. We didn’t discuss any issues, just settled, BANG.

And then dig if you will, this picture:

If you cannot see it, it is the second page of the order to have SeaFed pay the new GAL his half within 5 bidness days, and then $3000 in reasonable Lady Jesse Pinkman fees since we had to make this motion at all. Wow am I getting an education. Ow, my character.

So a floor below me at the courthouse while I was in small claims, my lawyer and SeaFed were going at it. This week we had to knock together something called Motion to Enforce Payment of the Goddam New GAL Already. SeaFed’s rebuttal was I Do Not Have Any Munny and “hey do not look at my house that I own or my multiple vehicles or my job or anything thanks.” That guy actually asked for our local low-income child advocacy agency to intervene on his behalf. Holy cats!! And then, when the judgement was entered, SeaFed STORMED OUT. I am cringing at the scene that will play out at his house tonight when he has to tell his wife. Oy vey.

Did you know I am going to trial, supposedly, on June 10th? I think the commissioner wants it to happen Or Else. No more monkeyshines/continuances.

I will write more about my experiences in small claims court over the weekend. I am tired! I stayed out til 11 watching Much Ado About Nothing. I did not know it would go that late. But tonight I dine in hell, or probably at teriyaki.

Tags: I am tired now goodnight, U MAD
Posted in Legal Beat, Oh Hell NAAAAW, SeaFed | 9 Comments »

“What’s the significance? I DON’T KNOW.”

May 17th, 2013

So. Small claims court. We meet for the first time. I have before me, I kid you not, almost twenty pieces of evidence. Emails, invoices, signed court orders, bank statements. And they all have Post-Its with labels and numbers that correspond to a handy timeline that dates back to 2011. I’m leaving my crazy eyes at home, but I have put my angry eyes in my butthatch.

Here is my prediction: the GAL will skate in, make a sad lament about how she’s claimed bankruptcy so my lettuces are long gone, and heavens to Bukowski should she be responsible for any of my legal fees?

I am supposed to be writing right now and for the next twenty minutes but I am a weeny bit distracted. I only got through about 400 words before my brain started scrabbling at me. I’ve been averaging about 2k words a day lately, now that this thing’s picked up steam. I’m writing on my lunch hour, the entire thing, and from 5 a.m. to 6:30. And usually while my kid’s at her therapist. I feel I’m somewhat hopeless as an editor, so I’m trying to write tight now. I’ve created a pretty detailed outline of the whole thing.

I should back up a little. Last month I started another story that’s in the same universe of the story I wrote in March and April. I thought it would be shorter, and comedic. And then in the first part of it I killed someone off and had the main character discover it, at which point it revealed itself as a murder mystery and I realized I had enough plot for a book. I am hovering around 40k words and am working on chapter 9, which is really exciting, because in the last three chapters they are going to figure out who dun it and catch the fucker. I feel like I need to pants for about 10k words, at which point characters and plot points will reveal themselves like out of some spirit animal voodoo haze, after which I need to start plotting if I’m going to actually finish.

This is going to sound bonkers, but I will tell you I am trying to have a healthy relationship with writing right now, because now that I’ve killed the fear I felt for so many years it is absolutely consuming me. I lay in bed and think about writing. I think about it in the shower, on my commute, etc. This story I’m writing right now came to me as I was half awake and I actually stood upright and sleepwalked to my dining room and wrote the synopsis. I know I can get single minded about things but so far I don’t see a down side to this one, really. It’s getting me into bed at a reasonable hour and I feel more creative and articulate during the day, and like when I’m at work working I’m, um, working because I am not thinking about an alcoholic mutated donkey who has human hands who starred in two terrible movies called Donkey Surgeon and Donkey Surgeon II. Okay, I do think about Herman Ignacio at my desk sometimes.

ANYWAYZ. Wish me luck today, or wish me to choke on a peach pit. Whatever! This is my update. I’ll be back. Oh, and I’ll be back with a bonus. My lawyer is in real grown up court today with SeaFed doing something ELSE. HA. Way to bury the lede, SJ.

Kiss the brown star,
I, Asshole

Tags: a scale model of the entire mall, Exhibit Q, I bought this pen one hour before my bike was stolen, Jupiter was aligned with Pluto, Knitting and KNITTING AND KNITTING, over 217 bits of information
Posted in VOGODA VIGODA VIGODA | 6 Comments »

Have you been to small claims court? Advice?

May 7th, 2013

Okay, two things. I was wrong about who the killer was in my Miss Marple book. I peeped ahead because I was trying to see the strings. Next time I will peep ahead harder. Or maybe just read a summary. I am moving on to The Magician’s Wife now, a lesser James M. Cain. Still feels like him though. I would like to punch people with words like that. I feel like I can see grime on people in his stories.

Thing two is, have you been to small claims court? Do you know someone who has? I know every district and judge differs somewhat, but I am looking for any experience I can take away. I know it’s supposed to be “layperson-friendly” but I don’t want to step in anything.

Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

“I was taken aback, I had come up against the Feminist.”

May 1st, 2013

I’m experiencing that fun kind of mania on that first day after you recover from some kind of bug. An informal poll at my workplace today showed that I am alone in this among respondents surveyed. Ah well. Long story long, I am feeling better.

Also, I am writing a murder mystery as of about two weeks ago. I feel like I need to really think about what I am doing and structure. I want to go really traditional within the classic format. You know, can I do a Tijuana donkey show in haiku format? We will see. I wanted to write another short story, but there is a LOT of plot happening there. Feels full-fledged. It’s kind of nice staring down the barrel of “okay you fucker you’re going to write every day so you might as well turn something out at the appropriate length for the story.” RIGHT? *deep crazy gasping breaths*

I have decided to ~~bone Miss Marple~~ bone up on Miss Marple, to really dive into the epitome of the murder mystery formula. I started with The Moving Finger (1942). Let me tell you, this is my first experience with a moving finger that did not have “-bang” appended to it. Pretty good. Except. The villain is…A FRUSTRATED FEMINIST. Dun dun…unshaven parts. Bitches be libbin.

This is not a review, because why bother? Agatha Christie has her deserved place in the canon. One thing I am enjoying is the vocabulary! For no reason, let’s have an

Agatha Christie Dictionary for Ignant* Americans and Search Engine-Challenged.

Happy Families: UK card game. Reminds me of the American Old Maid game. I bet the Old Maid did it too, in the motherfucking parlor, with her unequal paycheck. :(((( 1.

I hate my love with an A: Game used as a memory device. “Ah,” cried Mrs. Dane Calthrop. “I hate my love with an A. That’s it. Anonymous letters!” 1.

Kit-kat: cockney (?) rhyming slang for “prat.” “Merely kit-kat,” I said in a stern aside to her. 1.

Potatoes in heels: Holes in stockings. 1.

S.A.: sex appeal. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” she said. “Some people have lots of looks and absolutely no S.A.” 1.

1. The Moving Finger

*Ignant=me. I’ll add to this as I read more.

PS I am developing Miss Marple porno:

The Moving Fingerbang
A Caribbean Mystery, or How Miss Marple Got Her Groove Back
A Pocket Full of Rubbers
The Hot Body at the Library
They Do It with Mirrors (as-is)

Posted in Leisure Time | 7 Comments »

1019 Words that all say WEH.

April 29th, 2013

I woke up this morning and immediately threw up. It was one of those bad burning ones that makes your throat hurt. It was kind of a relief, because I’d been feeling bad all night, which was waking me up, and then I knew I had a legit reason to stay home rather than just “I woke up all night and now feel like hammered shit.” Sick days are precious gems and I have used too many of them already this year. But: my head hurts, my body hurts, my sciatic nerve is making a call, which is surprising because I haven’t heard from that since I was mongo pregnant.

Thing two is that I spent about two hours dreaming about something extremely trivial: Mad Men. If you don’t like or watch Mad Men, or you save them all up like precious truffles and gobble them all up after the season’s over, you may want to run away now, and just know that I am sick and unhappy and rambling about pointless shit.

So. Ahem. I like to go slow, deep, and very hard into my Mad Men, and read the online graduate seminar known as a Tom and Lorenzo recap. Among people who enjoy taking part in the wanky Mad Men Symbolism Quest of tearing costumes, setting, and flashbacks apart, much hay has been made about Don and Megan in their bedroom. “They are never on even footing!” say the posters. Don is ill with Megan hovering over him, or Megan is in her PJs and Don is in his suit. One is up walking around, and the other is in bed. I was thinking about Don Draper miserable in bed, because I was feeling like that one ep where Don stuffs his ex under the bed. Confused! And fucked up.

I am also thinking of elements of good dialogue–dialogue that is snappy, and moves the plot along, and what is happening during the dialogue. Rarely on Mad Men or in a good novel do you have two people talking and doing absolutely nothing. I’ve decided it’s pretty simple. You can’t put two people in a bedroom in the middle of the day without at least one of them having a legit reason to be there. Sickness, sleep, changing clothes. At this point, you get the feeling that Don and Megan are well over their honeymoon stage, and showing them lovingly making with the sexy times isn’t really moving the plot along, nor would it tell the story Wiener seems to want to tell this season. A lot of commentary over on Tom and Lorenzo, beyond what the recappers say themselves, is insignificant, and amounts to “Hey I noticed a thing.” Is it significant, this thing you saw? Or is it just a plausible reason to get two characters somewhere so they can talk and do the actual work of moving the story ahead? My favorite commenters are the ones who 1. remember the 60s, a la Sally Draper, or 2. Notice some shoutback to a previous episode or season. That is all.

I also had another minor revelation this morning. I’ve been kind of operating on austerity measures around here (okay that is a total misuse of that term) regarding things the girls like but rip through, and then you have to buy more in about five minutes, and it’s annoying. Case in point: cough drops. Strudel decided to raid the medicine cabinet and eat all the cough drops for no reason, other than the fact they contain sugar. Then she lied about eating them, and then I found all the wrappers under her pillow. I thought, well, it’s almost spring, and we rarely use them anyway, so I would wait to buy more until we need them. I forgot that a time when it is nice to have cough drops is right after you make a big burning porcelain phone call. Straws, also. I really want a straw this morning to pathetically sip my Talking Rain through, and I gave up buying them when I moved because I discovered the girls were going through them at a rate of approximately 17.5 a day. WHY? HOW?

This is one of my least favorite things about having children. “Say, I’d sure like an X right now.” Oh? Tough shit, some short assholes used that up ages ago and then did not put it on the list because they know they are not supposed to build crowns out of Q-Tips. Yes, they have access to 1. Actual, non-mentholated candy, 2. Lips, that they can suck water through, and 3. Art supplies to make crowns from if they wish. They even have SEPARATE art supplies because I couldn’t take the fighting anymore, and now there are art supply drawer raids, which leads to art drawer supply raid fights.

The big one woke me up at 11 last night to inform me she’d vomited all over her bedroom floor. I was kind of like “and?” since everything hurt and I’d just solidly fallen asleep. So there I am cleaning up phad thai, which I dreamt about all night, and almost vomiting myself. Vomit begets vomit in me something like 75% of the time. I’ve been dreading this day. On one hand, you are a sick kid. On the other, the 8-year-old can now make it to the toilet, or at least make a good attempt at it. When do you stop cleaning kid puke?

After I’d gotten the bulk of the steaming noodles off the floor, I rolled up her rug and left that one for her. That should be a good baby step into showing her how awful cleaning puke is. I wanted to atomic wedgie her on Saturday, because she was teasing Strudel about getting sick on Friday night, starting the chain of barf-a-rama. Franny barfed almost weekly until she was five or so, in the worst places, like between her wall and bed, into my hair, etc. I can probably count the total number of times Strudel has been that sick since she was born on two hands. She wasn’t even much of a milk spitter.

Naptime.

Posted in Rantin | 3 Comments »

This is incredible.

April 24th, 2013

Well, it is to me anyway. I was curious to see if my terrible GAL had been run out of town on a rail yet, and lo, UW Medicine is employing her! As some kind of “pain consultant.” I found this yelp review on her (I REALLY don’t think she should have MD appended to her title), and it all sounds very familiar.

Choice quotes from the reviewer:

I spent hours painstakingly copying my medical records and I even made a late night trip to a hospital to get a copy of a medical imaging report for this visit, yet Dr. Ballantyne didn’t even glance at my records.

Even the forms that I was asked to fill out with all kinds of personal questions about my family and whether or not my parents were alcoholics or iused illicit drugs were not reviewed. These forms are copious, and a waste of time if you ask me if they are just going to ask you the question again anyway in person because apparently they don’t want to take the time to read.

Sight unseen of course, but this sounds a lot like my GAL intake forms.

When I researched this woman further, I found that she is a clinical social worker and owns a company that does parenting evaluations in divorce and custody court cases and reunification therapy/supervised visitation. How does this qualify her to do Pain Management? How did this woman get this job? Why is this clinic masquerading as a bona fide Pain Management Clinic? This is the University of Washington? Apparently.

A quick skip over to the staff page shows that the clinic employs another Ballantyne. What an interesting coincidence.

Posted in Legal Beat | 18 Comments »

“First Reader, I married him.”

April 21st, 2013

At the end of the day, I realized I spent DUDE, 4/20 cleaning and writing. This is my reaction, I suppose, to my state legalizing pot. Take that, grout.

For sale signs are sprouting in my neighborhood like mushrooms right now. It’s like someone turned a switch on and said OK REAL ESTATE TIMES GO. Obviously there is a season, but it looks like everyone is seriously on the same page. You know what this means, right? OPEN HOUSES. I’ve been hoping to get a little inspiration, but houses just a block or two away are five or ten years older and–design shift. No more Mamie pink, instead in 1960 we get…FLESH. UGH.

I did like the mirror though. Can I get this a la carte to go? No? Nuts.

“Flesh and pear!” sang the real estate agent. The kitchen was pear. It was too soon for avocado.

Dig that groovy window. They repeated through the house, sometimes yellow. Amber would be too generous. And the whole floor plan went clunk, poor thing.

Original wallpaper. If these gentlemen could speak, they would tell of shag carpeting, fondue, and tantric sex attempts resulting in backs being thrown out. Another room had a wallpapered ceiling, which, awesome.

This was useful:

I know, I know, useful and APPALLING. What is happening is that this is the main hall down the whole house. On the right is bedrooms, and on the left is a Florida room. There are windows in the hall to admit light. I’m planning on doing something similar to my basement–putting a hall down the center and a bathroom on one side and turning the basement rumpus room into a master bedroom and letting the light come in through nicer windows that will probably just look horrifying when the next owners take this house.

THRILLING, YES? I am having a quiet Sunday now, sitting near the fire and whipping my first reader through the second draft of (working title) “Angora Planet.” Then I can send it off to an editor friend. Then I can watch the rejection notices just ROLL IN. Then I will have to self-publish it. If you want to know how the Sunday comes out, you will have to take a nap and then eat too much cheese dip, spoiling your dinner. End of book report!

BORING.

Posted in Sweet Domesticity | 6 Comments »

Subject: Guest Post on iasshole.org

April 16th, 2013

Hi ,

Hi Robot!!

I was reading an article on iasshole.org

Girl no you were not

…and I wanted to know if you offer guest posts from different authors.

Okay, I’m listening.

I thought it would be nice to have an opportunity to present a piece of content from our perspective that would engage with your blog’s readers. Our goal is always to provide high quality content that can naturally attract traffic and links.

And I lost my erection again! DAMMIT. Think of cancer oh yes sexy cancer wait there it is again

I work as the Social Media manager for

zzzzzzzzz

We can provide more examples more related to your site if desired.

I need some SEO shit up in here about ass-to-ass STAT. Puns intended, including some puns I did not even write down.

If there are any topics that you would like to see written about

leprechaun filk

or ideas you’ve had for posts but not had time to work on

Video of an exploratory scope from stern to stern. What, exactly, is happening with my lower esophageal sphincter?

Looking forward to hearing back from you.

HAND

Posted in VOGODA VIGODA VIGODA | 3 Comments »

My act is officially on the road

April 16th, 2013

Levity, in the face of tragedy. (I started this site two days before 9/11.)

Every day on the way to camp we pass a cemetery near my house. I love it and I wish I lived closer to it. I grew up two doors down from my village’s graveyard, and I spent MAD time there from the time I was 9 until I was 16 and moved into the city. Granted, there was not much of anywhere else to spend time. It was basically Strong Badia (Population: Tire), except it had convenience mart, weird stump, and bar. And that cemetery.

Anyway, back to driving.

Strudel: Mom, is that cemetery popular?

OMG was this happening again??

Me: *beat* Yes. People are DYING to get in!!

Strudel: Ha ha. *Seriousening* Mom, I’m serious. Are a lot of people buried there?

Me: Yes, it’s been around a long time. Want to go for a walk in it sometime?

Strudel: Okay, but not at night.

Deal!

Posted in Mal Mots, Strudel | 4 Comments »

Easter and April and BRR

April 13th, 2013

I think it’s been a while since we had a pictorial, eh? I am mostly well again. I was just tired this week after emptying out my entire body. Thanks germs! And ravenous. Without further ado, Snooki welcomes you to a ASSPICTORIAL.

I’ve done a ton of planting in my yard, and decided not to take pictures of the sad sticks I planted, which is my normal custom. I need to rose nerd out, because I went rose nerd batshit around the chick fence and planted another Joseph’s coat where there happens to be a trellis by the porch. “What trellis??” P. said. How do you miss a trellis? I guess you do if you are not a flower nerd. So of course I had to also put in a double delight (looks crap in this picture because I think it was the very first one) of the season, and some kind of lavender which I am forgetting, and also a hot cocoa.

There are also kiwis, which are leafing out now, and a fig, which looks quite stunned, poor thing. In addition to the cherries we planted out back where the rotten apple tree was, I think we might have a fruiting cherry out front. It was summer when we moved in, so I assumed it was ornamental. There are HELLA herbs in the front yard as well, including way too much lemon balm. Not my favorite, but apparently ve have ways of making you talk. Or delicious, or something. I will wait a month or so and then take pictures of what my sad sticks have transformed into.

Easter happened! I already wrote a little about it at the bottom of this recent post, but I thought I would finally cough up pictures. As long-time readers know, I do not have a religious bone in my body, but it nice to have an excuse to celebrate lambitarianism. I’ve weaned the girls off Easter baskets and candy, which just feels like a bridge too far for me. I really don’t like to make a fuss about any holiday I don’t believe in. Which leaves Halloween (Satan) and Thanksgiving (Indigestion). Hand turkeys will be colored. I think my “celebration” of holidays reflects my core beliefs: food and art.

First I let Strudel dye eggs.

Apparently the fuck egg has become a tradition now.

Then we had dinner. I guess I waited too long to buy my customary lamb roast and I ended up with a rack. Which was AWESOME. I made lollypops.

A crazy thing is that I still have part of these Easter flowers in my bathroom. Just the lilies, some greenery, and some carnations. Carnations are highly underrated. I think I came around to them after working at Lush for a while.

Strudel was VERY UPSET that I immediately used some of her Easter eggs, which I was sorry to upset her, but hard cooked eggs are great, aren’t they? Yay salad.

And then, because I am a sucker, I let poor pathetic Franny talk me into letting her dye eggs later that week. She was upset because she was due to spend Easter weekend at her dad’s house, as I mentioned, but for some reason they dyed eggs on Thursday or something? She missed out.

I guess I humored this because it’s not a huge deal, and she’s 12 now. Soon she may lose interest in dyeing eggs at all I suppose. (Cue “Sunrise, Sunset” and some maudlin weeping.) Although I dropped a lot of traditions, but kept dyeing eggs through college with roommates and before children. I have never not dyed eggs I guess.

I’ve been lazy on my wee Indian food project, which is fine. I guess by lazy I mean, “eating other food” and “spending a lot of time writing.” There are no schedules or calendars this time. My delightful work spouse brought me kala chana/black chickpeas for NO REASON except awesomeness and he loves food too, so I am making kala chana curry tomorrow. They are already soaking! I found a lot of interesting words about chickpeas on this blog. Usually I just buy the yellow ones in cans and nerm nerm nerm them up with my food processor until they are hummus. So this will be new.

Speaking of new, my friend J.B. and I will be taking a little field trip to get some new chicks soon. My youngest girls are now two years old, so it is time to cycle in some new girls. Death Ray (headless here) is now FIVE, crap. She is absolutely not laying and is fully retired. I am considering getting some more Silkies because I love them so. I will confess to you that every morning when I walk out I worry that Death Ray will be Dead Ray.