Day 873: Celebrations and Congratulations

So today I went into work an hour and a half early to just...work. Wrote letters, mostly. Worked on the paperwork for my divorce prove-up hearing. Today was also divorce day. Not a day we celebrate divorces, no, but a day when clients come in en masse to get their divorce paperwork started. I helped a girl who was maybe a year older than me but acted like a sulky teenager through the entire process. I tried to be cheerful. It didn't go well. Today was also one coworker's birthday, and when I came into the clinic after I'd busted out for class and lunch, the office manager informed me that we were having Lithuanian Torte to celebrate Molly's birthday.

I was confused, because why would we even care about Lithuanian law? And then I realized she meant torte like the food and not tort like the civil action. I haven't thought about tortes as food since my first year of law school when my torts professor told me that his relatives make fun of him for teaching torts and often ask him how is "cooking class" is going. Lithuanian torte - the apricot kind, not the chocolate kind - is super tasty.

After I got done with intake I changed into my suit, and then The Boss and I went down to the courthouse for my divorce hearing. Now, I hadn't heard a word from my client at all, even though I'd sent his notice hearing letter out over a week ago. But he called me precisely one hour before he was supposed to meet me, and he told me he'd be there.

I literally cheered. It was kinda sad. Because divorce is not a happy thing, no matter how casual and matter-of-fact our clients seem to take it. I cheered because he was the first of my clients to actually do what he was supposed to do and be where he was supposed to be. The first one all week. The Boss and I went over together, and I went up to the court room while she went to the clerk's office to look up an attempted first degree murder. I met the client - noticed it was him because he was carrying the letter I'd sent him and I got him to sign paperwork. I ran over the prove-up questions with him and talked with him a bit, and then the Boss showed up with some juicy news. Apparently that attempted murder was for money - money from the victim. A dude tried to kill another dude for money. Not because he was being paid for the job, no, he just wanted to inherit money. Figures.

The Boss spoke to the judge, and we got to do our hearing early because the other party was a no-show and wouldn't be missing out if we did it early. It was...again, not nearly as exciting as people think it would be. The Boss and I both entered appearances (I had to spell my last name for the court reporter, but the judge didn't card me, so that's good), and then I called my client to the stand. Only he didn't have to take the stand, and I just...asked questions like they were written on the paper. A couple of times he didn't answer questions properly, and I kind of let it go, but the Boss was kind enough to suggest alternatives after - like the fact that I could have asked all kinds of leading questions since there was no opposing counsel who would object. When asked the client, "Do you want this court to grant the decree of dissolution?" he said, "Yes!" very enthusiastically, and I'm pretty sure I saw the judge snicker into the sleeve of his robes. But...I helped a man get divorced. Afterwards I said, "Congratulations, you're divorced!" but I don't quite think it was the right thing to say.

While the Boss was in chambers asking the judge if we could do the hearing early, I sat talking to the client. I could smell cigarettes on him, and for one moment I was reminded, fiercely, of Nick, and I asked him what kind of cigarettes he smoked. I didn't recognize the brand, but as soon as he said menthols, I knew. Man. I'm getting pretty pathetic.

After the divorce hearing, I followed the boss around the courthouse while she tried to track down more on our would-be murderer, and then we went back to the school. I talked to my partner about our cases, and I did a little work, but then I went and changed out of my suit, quick as can be. After I got done with work, I headed into the library to print off some paperwork for my HOA meeting after class, and on my way to the library, I ran into a teenage boy. He didn't look much older than fifteen - not old enough to shave or drive, I didn't think, and he asked me if I knew where Tate was. As I had Merlin playing in one ear courtesy of my iPod, I asked, "What's his last name?" to which the boy replied, "I'm looking for tape."

I told the boy that there was likely some in the library, and since I was heading there, he could follow me.

What did he do?

He smiled at me said, "I go to Central. What school do you go to?"

It was a hopeful smile, too.

Now, I confess, I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but I was also wearing a blue zip-up hoodie bearing the name of my law school with the word "law" written on it. Okay, so I also had a backpack slung over one shoulder, but still. As slowly and dubiously as I could, I said, "I'm a third year law student."

He blinked at me, puzzled, and said, "Here?"

So I nodded and said, "Yes. Here." And then I showed him where the tape was and headed to the computer lab to print things off. I tried not to giggle too much.

I got things printed off, then headed downstairs for Copyrights, and there I saw one of my classmates. As I was plugging in my laptop and setting up, I told her the story of the awkward fifteen-year-old who'd attempted to hit on me, and she smiled, said she'd needed a laugh to cheer her up, and I was glad I could help. On the way down I'd seen the boy and I asked if he'd found the tape, which earned me another puppy-hopeful smile. When some of the other students arrived, they mentioned having seen a despondent high school boy who was sad because some girl didn't think he was cute. This prompted the 2L to turn around and accuse me of breaking the boy's heart.

Once I got the story out of them, I realized that, in a strange way, I knew who the boy was, and I resolved to call my fellow 3L who likely knew him and sort things out.

Aye, me. It's one thing for me to get hit on by a teenager in the manga aisle at B&N. It's another thing entirely when it happens at my own law school. Seriously.

Given that there was a case about Neil Gaiman and Todd McFarlane in today's readings for Copyright, the class wasn't nearly as fun as I'd hoped it would be, but I survived, and that's what counts. I made it home in time for the meeting, which was miserable because we were down in the foyer where it was freezing. Also, I hadn't eaten since noon and the beating I'd taken in ninjitsu the night before was catching up to me. Nevertheless, the meeting ended in time for me to talk to my mom, have a chicken&mushroom pie for supper, and watch Criminal Minds. I'm pretty much packed for my trip tomorrow.

I totally burned a good half hour reading a fandom novella that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but you know what? I needed it. Now I needed to unload the dishwasher, clean, pack my carry on, and get to bed.

Also, as much as law school rocks for the Dennis Leary and Neil Gaiman, it failed a little bit when I had to listen to a law student call Shakespeare's "Much Ado" 'mucho ah-doh" for a good ten minutes.

FAIL.



Also, today I wrote a short - very short - story in the middle of Church & State.

Bad Nagi.

Apparently a pretty good story, though.