Monthly Archives: May 2013

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

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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.

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

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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

Have you been to small claims court? Advice?

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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.

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

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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)