- I met MB (initials, no fancy nickname) at a Haverford happy hour and she became part of a group of HaverLawyers that I had great lunches with and with whom I shared both personal and professional challenges. She offered to come with me as a friend, who also knew the system as a lawyer and had been through a divorce herself. Her support and presence meant more than I can express.
- MM came. That may not have been a classy choice but he seemed to truly want to be there to support me on the trip. We didn't firmly decide to have him come to the hearing until the last moment. Again, maybe not classy to have a new boyfriend at your divorce hearing, but emotionally helpful. And he showed again why I love him by understanding that the day was a hard one. He didn't speak much when we were with MB for the drive to and the duration of the hearing....I think he just knew it wasn't about him. And he was good when the tears finally came, understanding that they weren't about wanting X back or about not loving MM, just about the whole emotional journey associated with the end of an 8y relationship.
- The judge started on my negative list. The hearing time was 9AM and she didn't come to the courtroom until well after 10. There was a little paper shuffling before she came in but even that started after 11. I did overhear an attorney saying it was unusual for this judge. When she arrived and took cases (we saw parts of two other hearings too), she did it with true class. She paid attention to details in the agreement (had us add a little clarification and another couple fix some item relating to kids). She had a lot of form questions she needed to go through but she did so without sounding rote and mechanical. She looked us in the eyes and talked to us, clearly respecting the emotion of the day and the fact that it may be an ordinary day for her but wasn't for those in court. She was even kinder to a woman there alone who was just terrified by the process (I wanted to go give that lady a hug). True class.
- As I mentioned above, our flight to PHL was delayed and turned our roomy connection to watching the clock tick closer to the takeoff of our second leg. Since it was late (10:50), the stress amped up a notch knowing that we'd be stuck for the night. Most of the US Airways folks were a bit cold...I knew it wasn't any of their faults and there wasn't much they could do, but they just weren't very friendly. We had to take a shuttle to another terminal and the lady at the waiting spot called the gates to check flights for us and two others. When we got to the F gates and started a jog to the right one, a lady in a cart was pulling up and said "Are you my State College folks?" She said to get in and that she'd told everyone she was getting us on that plane. She proved her assertion of being the best at her job as she floored the little cart, speeding BACKWARDS towards the gate. She was energetic and kind and just a total model of customer service. I wish I knew her name...she'd totally get an email to the boss giving her props.
Friday, April 29, 2011
thank you
I confess...yesterday was an emotional day, but that was to be expected. It was a quick in-and-out trip to Boston to officially stand before a judge and request a divorce. It also involved flights home where a layover that was expected to be over 2 hours ended up with us landing at the same time the next flight was loading (in a different concourse, b/c that's how it goes). I want to give some shout-outs to folks who made the day better, both those I know and the strangers who made it better too:
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Book Time: The White Devil by Justin Evans
I confess....gothic thriller is another book genre I'd have been unlikely to pick up without the kind folks at Harper encouraging me to broaden my tastes. Despite the change, I went into Justin Evan's second book, The White Devil, with a really positive mindset. The plot and setting really intrigues me and it sounded like a ghost story for folks who might not normally read such things.
The book focuses on Andrew Taylor, a teen sent to England to redo his final year of high school by parents who are pretty fed up with his antics and are treating this as a final chance for him to redeem himself before they wash their hands of him. He is sent to a boarding school dripping with both prestige and history. Tradition is key and the handbook includes definitions of long-used school-speak terms for different years and the long-time uniform. Andrew has a bit of the usual new kid issues but things are shaked up when he witnesses the death of a classmate and begins to suspect a supernatural element at play. The book focuses on a ghost haunting and reaking havoc, a spirit that had been the subject of school rumors but is clearly spurred to more action by Andrew's presence. Other key characters are a teacher who isn't in the administration's good graces and the single femals student at the school. Andrew and the teacher work to figure out who the ghost is and what is motivating his actions to prevent further bloodshed (literally since the ghost seems capable of infecting the living with TB).
Unfortunately, I just didn't find the book all that interesting and I struggled to put my finger on why. I did find the characters interesting but they did often seem a bit too stock...the new kid, the administrator's daughter, the alcoholic writer-on-residence who the school leaders despise. I appreciated that the ghost's story unfolded at a good pace...little pieces uncovered to keep it moving but not all at once. I just was never pulled in, never looked forward to my nightly reading time, and was very much waiting for it to end. The writing was fine, but never felt special and I never had any trouble putting it down. Two and a half stars (of five).
The book focuses on Andrew Taylor, a teen sent to England to redo his final year of high school by parents who are pretty fed up with his antics and are treating this as a final chance for him to redeem himself before they wash their hands of him. He is sent to a boarding school dripping with both prestige and history. Tradition is key and the handbook includes definitions of long-used school-speak terms for different years and the long-time uniform. Andrew has a bit of the usual new kid issues but things are shaked up when he witnesses the death of a classmate and begins to suspect a supernatural element at play. The book focuses on a ghost haunting and reaking havoc, a spirit that had been the subject of school rumors but is clearly spurred to more action by Andrew's presence. Other key characters are a teacher who isn't in the administration's good graces and the single femals student at the school. Andrew and the teacher work to figure out who the ghost is and what is motivating his actions to prevent further bloodshed (literally since the ghost seems capable of infecting the living with TB).
Unfortunately, I just didn't find the book all that interesting and I struggled to put my finger on why. I did find the characters interesting but they did often seem a bit too stock...the new kid, the administrator's daughter, the alcoholic writer-on-residence who the school leaders despise. I appreciated that the ghost's story unfolded at a good pace...little pieces uncovered to keep it moving but not all at once. I just was never pulled in, never looked forward to my nightly reading time, and was very much waiting for it to end. The writing was fine, but never felt special and I never had any trouble putting it down. Two and a half stars (of five).
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
a highway breakdown and an ill blogger, who is apparently a murdering heathen
I confess....I don't tend to do much of the weekend recap style of blogging, but sometimes life just needs to be shared. Because being stuck in a toll booth, being called a murderer, and spending four hours on the bathroom floor is just too much weekend to keep to oneself. Since that last element is still a struggle, I am typing in bed and will be even less likely than normal to proofread. And likely rambly and long.
The plan was quite simple. MM worked Friday, we'd run a few errands, see my mom and step-father on Saturday, and then we'd travel up to his family for Easter in Sunday. Friday wasn't the best of days...got some expected news but still not happy news that didn't start us off in a good mood. But we recovered with takeout from a new favorite, Pizza Mia. The Fireballs are my new appetizer of choice...enough that I totally took the extra one. I still maintain that all such foods should come in even numbers for easier sharing.
We slept late Saturday and made a Target run because my new dress ($20!!) required some smoothing helpers underneath (would have preferred a size up but not available). We got on the road, had a nice dinner with my family (sushi!), and MM and I went to a local spot for a drink after. No one was around to stop by but we were amused by the country line dancers. I do NOT have the memory or the coordination for all that.
Sunday started fine. Hung out for a bit and then headed to pick-up some items for a fellow Central PA-er who was also a fellow Lower Bucks County native. Took a bit longer than expected (more stuff than we imagined) but I got to catch up while MM and one of the friends did the lifting. We hit the road, car packed tight.
We'd made it through most of the two hour drive when we heard an odd car noise. MM noticed it when we slowed for one toll booth (the northeast extension of the PA turnpike is odd...on and off a few times...). He thought it was likely related to the ball bearings in the wheel. I pretended to understand. We got to another toll. MM picked a lane that did both cash and EZ-Pass. The pass clicked, the gate arm opened, we went five feet, and we stopped. Dead. Car running but not moving. MM called AAA. I called his sister to tell them to eat without us (we were only 15min away).
MM tried to push with no success. Folks came (one totally out of niceness, the other nice but also stuck in the queue behind us), but it wasn't going anywhere. The very insightful man working at the toll booth suggested that it was not a good place to stop. We appreciated that insight. Though if you have to stop dead on the Turnpike, a toll lane's a good choice (esp the gated one where folks slow down more...they were able to clear the line too). And the toll man was a nice escort across the busier EZ Pass lanes and let me use their restroom. Eventually, both the Turnpike rescue folks and the AAA tow guy arrived. The rescue guy was really nice, I'd always wondered about that service (paid for by the Pike, patrols a given area in his shoft) and he seemed happy to have people to chat with since he was working either way. The tow guy, however, was beyond rude. MM's brother-in-law said the shop the tow guy wanted to use was awful and. Tow man wasn't too happy about taking us further but MM has the fancy AAA and stood up for his right to go wherever he wanted w/in 100 miles.
We left it at the shop...because it was not only a Sunday but also a holiday so we clearly weren't going anywhere. We were rescued by family. We'd missed dinner but still got to enjoy the food, hung out for a few hours and eventually went to a hotel. We checked in just before 10 and were a bit desperate for just a drink or two after the day. The hotel called the bar next door and they held last call. We met a very drunk Canadian. He suggested it was silly for me to get divorced from X and that I should just sleep with MM and not worry about it. Yeah. We had a drink and may have sorta purchased an illicit bottle of wine from the bartender to take back with us. Illicit and cheaper than it would ever have been at the bar normally. He got a good tip and joins the turnpike rescue man on my heroes list.
We slept. At 8AM, MM got a text. The shop guy was in and the car was there, he had the key. He did not, however, have power. Because that's how things were going. When we got dressed, we found our clothes smelled of smoke...odd since we were in a non-smoking room and hadn't been anywhere with smoke. And even more fun without having taken any of my normal nightly medicines (allergy, BCP for endo, lexapro) since we expected to be home Sunday night.
We set up a late check out and wandered down to the hotel breakfast. We had bagels and cream cheese and coffee. And then a hotel employee (not the food attendant...she was just hanging out but in her hotel garb and we'd seen her the night prior) suddenly turned to me and asked who I'd vote for in 2012. I decided to try and push it off and said I thought I'd vote for me. I mentioned my theory that the key is knowing who to trust and who to ask because no one knows it all and I'd need a great foreign policy guru but could handle some domestic things myself. I was cautious and threw in "women's issues" to expand. She asked what that meant and I cautiously clarified I meant pro-choice matters. She kindly asked me to clarify again by saying "Really, don't you think that's murder?" Lovely. She made a taxes and Planned Parenthood rant. I made a quick statement about most of their work being women's health and such. I then asked to please be allowed to eat my breakfast. I got a reprieve and then was interuppted by a story of a fetus grabbing a finger during surgery. I gave a quick response and said I would like to just have my meal. I got a few more minutes and then a rant about paying for other people's abortions. I gave a brief response and a third request for peace. I got a glare. The lady actually working the breakfast told us to take our time but she was going to clean a bit. The lights were turned out. Yeah, fun.
We hung out in the room until we had to checkout. We walked by the same lady (again, a hotel staff member) using the guest computer. She had VERY large font on some sort of document and both MM and I spotted the term "Roman Catholic" on the screen. Didn't seem like the right use of the guest computer but we went on to the checkout desk. While MM checked out, I went to throw out some trash and again walked by the computer. New line: "I met a heathen this morning." Yeah.
We hung out till the shop called. It was an easy fix and not too pricey. On a normal day, this wouldn't have taken long but with the holiday and the power issues, it was about 22h after the toll booth breakdown. We stopped by MM's parents place to return the borrowed car and I wasn't feeling good. I threw up once and hoped that whatever it was would pass (I did NOT have THAT much to drink!!). We drove the two hours home and our highway exit was closed for repairs....because we needed more fun. We took a back way. I've always had a theory about the inverse relationship between bladder needs and the proximity of home (I'm FINE till I'm trying to unlock the door). I began to suspect my tummy had joined in on this game and warned MM he'd have to move fast and get the door. I made it to the driveway....luckily got the door open first...
I spent four hours violently ill. MM got major brownie points for poise under pressure. I'd have NOT been as good...especially before I decided to stay on th bathroom floor and needed him to run for a bowl and hold back my hair. Fun detail, no? I was actively sick from 5ish till 9 and had a rerun at midnight (even though I hadn't eaten since 10:15).
But, clearly, the toll booth breakdown, the power outage, the nasty hotel worker, and the violent illness wouldn't be enough. It had been a gray day but opened up just as MM was unloading the car. And stopped when he was done (more rain came later but not for a few hours...it was totally intent on raining on his head). After unloading, he found that the trunk seal must have been faulty...a pile of water was in his spare wheel well. Yeah.
So.....I'm in bed. I have managed 1/4 of my soda in 3 hours. I am not sure that I'll even make it to the couch today. When I can do so more eloquently, the hotel is definitely getting a letter about their staff. I am blaming the illness on her putting a curse on me. Which needs to pass so I can get on a plane Wednesday night, despite the Canadian man's insistence, to follow the MA rule requiring an in-person hearing for an uncontested divorce.
The plan was quite simple. MM worked Friday, we'd run a few errands, see my mom and step-father on Saturday, and then we'd travel up to his family for Easter in Sunday. Friday wasn't the best of days...got some expected news but still not happy news that didn't start us off in a good mood. But we recovered with takeout from a new favorite, Pizza Mia. The Fireballs are my new appetizer of choice...enough that I totally took the extra one. I still maintain that all such foods should come in even numbers for easier sharing.
We slept late Saturday and made a Target run because my new dress ($20!!) required some smoothing helpers underneath (would have preferred a size up but not available). We got on the road, had a nice dinner with my family (sushi!), and MM and I went to a local spot for a drink after. No one was around to stop by but we were amused by the country line dancers. I do NOT have the memory or the coordination for all that.
Sunday started fine. Hung out for a bit and then headed to pick-up some items for a fellow Central PA-er who was also a fellow Lower Bucks County native. Took a bit longer than expected (more stuff than we imagined) but I got to catch up while MM and one of the friends did the lifting. We hit the road, car packed tight.
We'd made it through most of the two hour drive when we heard an odd car noise. MM noticed it when we slowed for one toll booth (the northeast extension of the PA turnpike is odd...on and off a few times...). He thought it was likely related to the ball bearings in the wheel. I pretended to understand. We got to another toll. MM picked a lane that did both cash and EZ-Pass. The pass clicked, the gate arm opened, we went five feet, and we stopped. Dead. Car running but not moving. MM called AAA. I called his sister to tell them to eat without us (we were only 15min away).
MM tried to push with no success. Folks came (one totally out of niceness, the other nice but also stuck in the queue behind us), but it wasn't going anywhere. The very insightful man working at the toll booth suggested that it was not a good place to stop. We appreciated that insight. Though if you have to stop dead on the Turnpike, a toll lane's a good choice (esp the gated one where folks slow down more...they were able to clear the line too). And the toll man was a nice escort across the busier EZ Pass lanes and let me use their restroom. Eventually, both the Turnpike rescue folks and the AAA tow guy arrived. The rescue guy was really nice, I'd always wondered about that service (paid for by the Pike, patrols a given area in his shoft) and he seemed happy to have people to chat with since he was working either way. The tow guy, however, was beyond rude. MM's brother-in-law said the shop the tow guy wanted to use was awful and. Tow man wasn't too happy about taking us further but MM has the fancy AAA and stood up for his right to go wherever he wanted w/in 100 miles.
We left it at the shop...because it was not only a Sunday but also a holiday so we clearly weren't going anywhere. We were rescued by family. We'd missed dinner but still got to enjoy the food, hung out for a few hours and eventually went to a hotel. We checked in just before 10 and were a bit desperate for just a drink or two after the day. The hotel called the bar next door and they held last call. We met a very drunk Canadian. He suggested it was silly for me to get divorced from X and that I should just sleep with MM and not worry about it. Yeah. We had a drink and may have sorta purchased an illicit bottle of wine from the bartender to take back with us. Illicit and cheaper than it would ever have been at the bar normally. He got a good tip and joins the turnpike rescue man on my heroes list.
We slept. At 8AM, MM got a text. The shop guy was in and the car was there, he had the key. He did not, however, have power. Because that's how things were going. When we got dressed, we found our clothes smelled of smoke...odd since we were in a non-smoking room and hadn't been anywhere with smoke. And even more fun without having taken any of my normal nightly medicines (allergy, BCP for endo, lexapro) since we expected to be home Sunday night.
We set up a late check out and wandered down to the hotel breakfast. We had bagels and cream cheese and coffee. And then a hotel employee (not the food attendant...she was just hanging out but in her hotel garb and we'd seen her the night prior) suddenly turned to me and asked who I'd vote for in 2012. I decided to try and push it off and said I thought I'd vote for me. I mentioned my theory that the key is knowing who to trust and who to ask because no one knows it all and I'd need a great foreign policy guru but could handle some domestic things myself. I was cautious and threw in "women's issues" to expand. She asked what that meant and I cautiously clarified I meant pro-choice matters. She kindly asked me to clarify again by saying "Really, don't you think that's murder?" Lovely. She made a taxes and Planned Parenthood rant. I made a quick statement about most of their work being women's health and such. I then asked to please be allowed to eat my breakfast. I got a reprieve and then was interuppted by a story of a fetus grabbing a finger during surgery. I gave a quick response and said I would like to just have my meal. I got a few more minutes and then a rant about paying for other people's abortions. I gave a brief response and a third request for peace. I got a glare. The lady actually working the breakfast told us to take our time but she was going to clean a bit. The lights were turned out. Yeah, fun.
We hung out in the room until we had to checkout. We walked by the same lady (again, a hotel staff member) using the guest computer. She had VERY large font on some sort of document and both MM and I spotted the term "Roman Catholic" on the screen. Didn't seem like the right use of the guest computer but we went on to the checkout desk. While MM checked out, I went to throw out some trash and again walked by the computer. New line: "I met a heathen this morning." Yeah.
We hung out till the shop called. It was an easy fix and not too pricey. On a normal day, this wouldn't have taken long but with the holiday and the power issues, it was about 22h after the toll booth breakdown. We stopped by MM's parents place to return the borrowed car and I wasn't feeling good. I threw up once and hoped that whatever it was would pass (I did NOT have THAT much to drink!!). We drove the two hours home and our highway exit was closed for repairs....because we needed more fun. We took a back way. I've always had a theory about the inverse relationship between bladder needs and the proximity of home (I'm FINE till I'm trying to unlock the door). I began to suspect my tummy had joined in on this game and warned MM he'd have to move fast and get the door. I made it to the driveway....luckily got the door open first...
I spent four hours violently ill. MM got major brownie points for poise under pressure. I'd have NOT been as good...especially before I decided to stay on th bathroom floor and needed him to run for a bowl and hold back my hair. Fun detail, no? I was actively sick from 5ish till 9 and had a rerun at midnight (even though I hadn't eaten since 10:15).
But, clearly, the toll booth breakdown, the power outage, the nasty hotel worker, and the violent illness wouldn't be enough. It had been a gray day but opened up just as MM was unloading the car. And stopped when he was done (more rain came later but not for a few hours...it was totally intent on raining on his head). After unloading, he found that the trunk seal must have been faulty...a pile of water was in his spare wheel well. Yeah.
So.....I'm in bed. I have managed 1/4 of my soda in 3 hours. I am not sure that I'll even make it to the couch today. When I can do so more eloquently, the hotel is definitely getting a letter about their staff. I am blaming the illness on her putting a curse on me. Which needs to pass so I can get on a plane Wednesday night, despite the Canadian man's insistence, to follow the MA rule requiring an in-person hearing for an uncontested divorce.
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