My divorce went through today. I got my butt down to the court. (I kept wishing they would announce the judge's entrance with something like: "All rise for the Honorable What's His Face!". But they didn't. They just said "All rise", I felt totally gypped).

We got there at 7.35 (traffic was nowhere to be seen. Darn. I could've slept an extra 30 minutes). So we had plenty of time to spare when we went up to the third floor, where I have been about 4 or 5 times now. Anyway, one of the first times I went, they had a list of the cases that the judge would hear for the day on the door. So you know where to go and what to do.  But there was no such list on the door of the 330th court room! So I just nervously hovered around it, hoping it'd be the right place, since we had to be there at 8 o'clock sharp!! (that's what the lady said when they told me about my court date). A lady arrived a few minutes later, and looked just as confused. We all sat there - doors locked, and nobody to help until 8 a.m. (by then we'd have to be inside!).

At around 8.02 a lady in blue jeans came and opened the door. Another gyp. I thought it'd be a mean looking cop doing that. I was the first one in! She pulled out my case file and told me to sit down. (Yay! I was at the right place). She gave us some forms to fill out (one I alrdy had cos Im so smrt!). And then we waited.

And waited some more. Sometime around 8.15 another lady came in wearing black pants and a red shirt. She was the sheriff! She looked like a secretary. She lent me a pen cos I was a doofus and didn't bring one. She was giving us a list of things not to do:

- Walk to the right side of the podium when he calls you.
- Don't chew gum - he'd kicked some people out of the courtroom before!
- He's finicky so do just as he says!
- Some other stuff I was too worked up to remember.

Then at 8.25 (8 o'clock sharp, yeah right), the judge came in. He was accurate enough, tall, with white hair and that serious sharp look of judges everywhere (movie judges at least!).

He called me first! I was all stomach in a knot, thinking I'd be the guinea pig before all these other people came up to prove up their divorces. I read my "prove up" - I had it all nicely typed out the day before, so I wouldn't mess it up (I still managed to fumble over 'domiciliary').

He said 'Divorce granted'!!! So I walked over to the blue jeans lady where she stamped the decree and told me she'd mail my ex a copy.

Already another girl was trying to prove her papers up. She looked Muslim, and spoke poor English. The judge dismissed her. I felt bad for her, and wondered when she'd be able to prove it up again - she should've gotten a translator!

I walked out, not really feeling any lighter or freer. The relief came a little bit later.

Until the damn parking attendant would charge us $10 even though we had only gone over the 61 min. parking time by 2 minutes!! A%^*ole.