cindy's world

Today is the first day of my judge’s month-long vacation. When the courtroom goes “dark” like this, the courtroom staff is available to float and work in different courtrooms as needed. As it’s summer, there are a lot of dark courtrooms, which means we have a more than normal number of available personnel in addition to people specially assigned to float to where needed. These latter people’s job description is “floater.” I am not a floater, I’m an assigned clerk, whose courtroom happens to be dark right now. I’ve been dreading this dark month, and I’ve made sarcastic half-joking comments here and there that they’re probably gonna float me to Compton or downtown or something. Coworkers reassured me that wouldn’t happen, because I carpool to work from 40 miles away. Mr. W works near me so he drives us both to and from work. Carpooling means I don’t have a car available, and there had been a memo issued some time ago from the topmost supervisor of the county that gives carpooling priority over having a vehicle available per person. (Except, of course, if you’re a floater by job description.)

So I checked in before 8am this morning. I had beaten every supervisor to work but the administrative secretary said she’d let the supervisors know I’m in my courtroom, awaiting assignment, when they got in. (I’ll make a note here that other clerks don’t even come in at 8am like they’re supposed to; they get in around 9a, some deliberately, to avoid being floated out.) At 8:10 a.m., the district supervisor called me to make sure I was there and available. I explained that floating out of the building would be a difficulty, as I carpooled as usual and don’t have a car. He said he didn’t think that would be a legitimate reason for “downtown,” who would just tell me to take public transportation to go where I am assigned to go. He said he’d call me back if he heard from “downtown” that I’m to be floated out.

10 minutes later, that supervisor called me back and said that I’ve been assigned to go to Compton Courthouse (14 miles away, but through seriously dangerous and questionable neighborhoods). I reiterated that I don’t have a car, I don’t know how to take public transportation, and to figure out a train or bus route from work to Compton would not only be time-consuming, but stressful. Plus, I’d have to figure out how to get from wherever the train or bus dropped me off to Compton Courthouse on foot. Someone told me I’d have to switch buslines in Watts (major gang and high crime territory). I’m unfamiliar with public transportation and with the area, so I could see myself wandering around, lost, pregnant, and getting harassed by people. While 6 months pregnant with a baby that cost me $26,000 to conceive. The supervisor told me that “downtown” doesn’t care that I’m 6 months pregnant, although he does. He asked if I could take Mr. W’s car to Compton. I’m actually not sure I’d be insured in his car, but it’s his car and I’m supposed to strand him at work while I’m off to Compton and I don’t even know when I’d be able to leave to go home? They couldn’t ask me to do that if I’d carpooled with a coworker, so this should be no different. I told him I’d have to call Mr. W and check with him on that.

Mr. W was, of course, not happy with this situation. He didn’t want me wandering around Compton by myself, period. It’d be different if I weren’t pregnant and had my own car. As it is, driving is difficult for me because any abdominal pressure, such as that by a seat belt, causes Allison to repeatedly hit and push against the pressure. It’s very distracting and it’s okay if I’m driving locally for 15 minutes, but it’d be a serious issue driving an hour to work in crazy stop and go traffic, then half an hour or more depending on traffic to Compton while trying to figure out where I am and where to turn.

My supervisor called me back to check status at around 8:20. As courtrooms don’t even unlock their doors until 9am, t’s still early enough at this time to rearrange floating employees, which is often done in order to make the best employee fits depending on what any person is able to do. They had already made a change this morning; another dark court clerk was supposed to be in Department W, but because a family law clerk called in sick, they pulled that dark court clerk from W and put her in family law, then put another dark court clerk into Department W. A floater clerk was in another department where the regular clerk was on vacation. I asked twice if the supervisor can make rearrangements in assignments, since none of the other 3 clerks are pregnant, and all of them have their own cars available to them. He said he didn’t have any other options. I called Mr. W back and told him this, and could not stop the flow of tears. I thought it was so messed up that they’re favoring the other clerks who were ABLE to float out, but making me take a health risk when I was both pregnant and didn’t have a car. Very quickly, that supervisor called back. It was pretty audible by my voice that I was very upset and tearful at this point. He said that if I were his wife, he wouldn’t be comfortable with me going out to Compton, either, and that if I was having physical stress symptoms, that I have an option of taking sick time for today and he would then tell downtown that I’m going home sick and is unavailable to go to Compton. But then, I would have to bring in a doctor’s note. I told him I’m taking that option and spent the morning on the phone trying to get an appointment with local Kaiser hospitals to see me.

This is already pretty lame, considering I’m unable to leave to go home sick as I still don’t have transportation, so I’m stranded at work anyway. No local Kaisers had any openings today, and coworkers only had the lunch hour to give me a ride to any Kaiser anyway and turns out Kaisers don’t take appointments at lunchtime. The Kaiser appointment lady, who was very sympathetic, suggested I ask my regular OB (45 miles away from work so not commutable at lunchtime) to fax me a work restriction letter, excusing me from work today and from high-stress floating. She sent an internal email to have my OB or his nursing staff contact me ASAP. I was contacted around 10am by my OB’s nurse, who said that the doctor wouldn’t be in until 1:30pm today but that it was unlikely he would write me any such note to restrict my work due to the pregnancy, because there was no physical reason why I couldn’t take public transportation. She said lots of people in the country take public transportation to work regularly. (Okay, but they do this regularly by choice, not because they were unexpectedly told, morning of, to figure out a way to get to a different and unfamiliar location in a dangerous area while pregnant. And I’d also have to figure out how to get home from Compton after dark. Good gawd.) But she said she would talk to the doctor about my request when he got in, given how stressed I am about the situation. She said something about “fraud” if he were to claim I couldn’t do something I can. Let me note here that I also wouldn’t eat or drink the entire day when I’m floated out on public transportation, as Compton Court doesn’t have a cafeteria and I couldn’t go out wandering the streets looking for places to eat. Not good for pregnancy.

Here’s where friends make work worthwhile: Coworker Sandy, who had the week off on vacation, saw my distressed cry on the social networking site and wrote me an email. She said she’d be in the courthouse area for a doctor’s appointment at 1:30p, and offered to swing by the courthouse to pick me up and take me home after her appointment. I accepted gratefully, and now that I know I can get home a little early, I made an appointment with my primary care physician (not my OB) for 4:40p. I couldn’t believe he happened to have a same-day opening. Things were looking up! I was going to get my doctor’s note after all.

Coworker Sandy’s medical appointment ran later than she’d expected and she picked me up outside the courthouse with her husband at 3:15p. I was at work for 7.5 hours already when I was officially out “sick,” having to burn 8 hours of sick time, but I was so grateful to be able to leave finally. Given the time and the bad traffic, we all decided it’d be better for them to take me to the doctor’s appointment directly, then Mr. W can just meet me there and pick me up and go home on his way home from work. On our way, my regular OB’s office called me, and this time a different nurse spoke to me. She said the doctor wants to make sure I have a medical reason, and not a transportation reason, to give me work restrictions. I didn’t have to make up a thing; this IS considered a high-risk pregnancy by definition as I will be over age 35 at the due date, and I HAVE been having round ligament pains for 2 months now (they asked), it IS uncomfortable for me to sit in a car for extended periods of time, and I DO have difficulty driving so I DO have someone drive me to/from work daily. The letter restricting my driving to 10 miles/day and prohibiting long transport periods, such as would be required with public transportation, was prepared to apply immediately until late November, the duration of my pregnancy. It would be in an envelope waiting for me at the reception desk of my OB’s Kaiser hospital (nearer to but past home) which would be open until 5:30p, nurse said to pick it up anytime before then. Whew!

I was soon dropped off at the Kaiser halfway between work and home, where my appointment was this evening, then Coworker Sandy and her hubby went on their way home. I walked in, checked in with the receptionist, who informed me I’m in the wrong building. Okay, point me to the right building, and I’ll walk there. “No no, you’re in an entirely different facility,” she explained. “Your 4:40 appointment today is in [a whole different city farther south].” OH, CRAP. “You can still get there in time,” the receptionists said, looking at the clock reading 4:10.

I got on my cell phone and called Coworker Sandy. “I messed up!” I explained, she laughed, told her husband to turn around for me, and said they’d only made it one light down. Soon they picked me up where they’d dropped me off 5 minutes prior. I called Mr. W from the car to tell him the hospital I’d told him earlier to pick me up at is the wrong one, and to meet me at the correct one. He confirmed the correct one, then gave some cross-streets, which I passed on to Coworker Sandy and her hubby. The two of them said they were familiar with that Kaiser and would take me there. The freeway was horribly, horribly congested, and they passed the exit I’d expected them to get off on. I asked what exit they were going to, and they both gave the name of one of the cross-streets that Mr. W gave. I’m not very good with directions, so I let them go where they appeared to know to go. Exiting at that street took an extra 15 minutes through sluggish traffic, and when we got off, her husband said, “This doesn’t look right.”

Turned out, hubby got two street names confused because both street names started with the letter “A.” The one he gave them as the intersection of the hospital made us overshoot by 6.5 miles, which isn’t a big deal except that it took 10-15 extra minutes each way, making me now late for the appointment. I tried to call the hospital to tell them to keep my appointment, I was running late, but couldn’t get a number for that facility directly. Instead of being 15 minutes early as I was told to be, I was 10 minutes late when I ran in there, and hoped for the best. There was a check-in line at reception (first time ever in my experience at that facility), so I did a self-check-in at a kiosk. I wasn’t sure I did it right, but I was distracted anyway as Mr. W called me and turned out, I think he’d beaten me there, because he was right behind me. We took off to the appointment waiting area and I was very shortly called in.

The nurse there was very sympathetic and kind of horrified at what happened at work, and told me that the next time this happens, I should call her team and they will figure out a way to problem-solve for me. I thanked her. She took my blood pressure and said she was surprised it was within normal ranges. I explained that the numbers she was looking at, 122/76, was high for me because most of the time both numbers were close to/under 100. My primary care doc was great as always, and immediately proceeded to write me a work restriction letter after I explained what happened today, and what its effect on me was. (He diagnosed me with acute stress reaction, and said I appear to have had an anxiety attack in the morning. At the peak of my stress this morning, Allie uncharacteristically went crazy in my stomach at a time when she would normally be still; dr said this is not unusual given the stress hormones I was producing.) His letter didn’t deal with my pregnancy as much as my stress reaction, although it also indicated that I am a high-risk pregnancy patient. It orders “Modified Activity” to apply to both work and home for a month:

Patient is 6 months pregnant. No driving or public transportation. If patient needs to be floated to another work place, please provide her with other means of transportation.
If modified activity is not accommodated by the employer then this patient is considered temporarily and totally disabled from their regular work for the designated time and a separate off work order is not required.

So, if my supervisors ignore the letter and force me to float without providing transportation, I can immediately be off for whatever’s left of the month on full disability, which means they have to pay full salary and not dock my sick time. Awesome. Now I have a general note to cover the duration of pregnancy, and a very specific note to cover the next month we’re dark. By the way, I talked to another dark court clerk who 3 times in the past 2 weeks immediately put in a sick time off slip in lieu of being floated out of the building, and she said the supervisors never required her to bring in a doctor’s note. The rule is that a doctor’s note may be required for 3 consecutive days of sick time off, but is not required for one day. People call in for 1 day all the time, doesn’t mean they’re going to a doctor. So I think that’s another point of unfairness, although I jumped thru that hoop anyway cuz they made me.

Since my doctor very efficiently got me in an out, Mr. W thought we could make it to the other Kaiser to pick up my letter. It was 5:10, and we had 20 minutes. There were some slow people in traffic that Mr. W drove like mad to get around, and I ended up running up the door to that Kaiser at exactly 5:30. The automatic doors wouldn’t open, and they had closed either precisely on time, or a few minutes early. I was still in rush-rush mode and stressed, and was nauseated by that point and my head was hammering. Mr. W patted my knee and took me to a local Italian restaurant for dinner. I told him I still want to take tomorrow off on stress, especially since I already have a doctor’s note, so they can’t request another one. He said he would call in tomorrow to stay home with me, and go with me to pick up my OB’s letter, and we’ll catch a movie in the area afterwards.

Looks like I’m starting my weekend early. Looking forward to seeing college roommie Diana on Saturday. She’s in town for the weekend and we’re going to the Hollywood Bowl for a summer Philharmonic concert.

P.S. Earlier, I received an email from another coworker, who found out about what happened today. She offered to leave on a half-day tomorrow so that I would be placed in her courtroom to cover her instead of being told to float out again. It was very sweet of her, but thankfully, unnecessary. Late morning, a floater coworker who heard about what happened came by and found me, and offered to go to Compton in my place because he felt that as a floater, he should’ve been sent out first. I thanked him and told him I had already opted for burning a sick day. My coworkers are super-awesome.

The home PC’s going thru some issues. Mr. W is working on fixing it. Today will be the 3rd consecutive day we’d visit his favorite computer parts store after work. He expects to basically rebuild his PC with all new upgraded parts by the end of this Memorial Day weekend. Until then, I won’t really have access to the PC to blog about the road trip. Plus, he’s got photos on his cameraphone he hasn’t sent me yet. =P (Neither of us brought our “real” cameras.) Why don’t I just post from work? Well, cuz work suck ASS right now. I was so pissed yesterday about it that I gagged. Maybe I’ll blog about it, but for now, I’m just too venomous to put it all in writing in detail. BUT…I will leave you with this, cuz it’s more positive than I can be at the moment.

Rebecca posted this, and at first I thought, “What a spoiled little kitten, with its very own leopard print blankie.” And then, it just got better. And better.

Best minute you’ve spent all week? Me, too.

Me: I was wondering why this couple I’m doing a divorce case on filed for divorce 4 months after they got married. Then I looked at his mailing address and realized it’s North Kern State Prison. She had him served in prison with her divorce papers 4 months after they got married so he must’ve gotten incarcerated right before she filed. Haha, so much for “stand by your man.”
Mr. W: Or maybe he’s in prison BECAUSE of her.
Me: What do you mean? Like he took the rap for something she did?
Mr. W: No, like maybe he hit her. That’s why she filed.
Me: OooOOOOoooh. Interesting.

A coworker riding up the elevator with me the other day asked, “So what are you guys doing for Easter?” I drew a blank cuz, people “do stuff” for Easter? Easter is this Sunday, so I expect to be doing what I do every Sunday — visit my parents*. I guess it’s a Chinese thing, cuz Mr. W said his entire childhood and for the childhood of his kids, he’s done “Easter stuff,” i.e. baskets with toys, candies and treats for the kids, egg hunts, etc. I have never had a family-sponsored Easter event, although in grade school one year, my class took a walking field trip to a park a few blocks away, where the teacher and her assistant had hidden a bunch of easter eggs for us. That was a treat. Mr. W claims to be sick of all the Easter stuff he’s been a part of his entire life, so I guess I have to consider what parts of Asian and American I want to incorporate into raising my hybrid kid. He’d be hybrid anyway by proxy living here, even if he were full Chinese. Mr. W stands pretty firmly on getting the kid into organized sports from a young age, which is largely a “white” thing from what I’ve seen (most Asian kids are at violin or piano lessons, or after-school advanced tutoring like Kumon, when the other kids are at sports practice after school). I don’t care for Mr. W’s idea as much. Team sports didn’t treat me well as a kid; there was a lot of peer pressure, mean kids’ egos, and I don’t care for how overly involved parents get into what’s supposed to be coordination- and esteem-building sports. Plus, from hearing my coworkers complain, it takes up A LOT of a parent’s time, and I’ll still be working full-time. I also think about “popular” jock kids I’ve known. I now suspect that they’re popular because they’ve been playing sports with other kids since they could walk, so of course in high school they’re in the “in-crowd;” everyone already knows each other. This then opens them up to keg parties and stupid popular kid trouble-making things (sex & drugs, *shudder*) when they’re teens. I REALLY don’t like that. Maybe Riley** wants to be a concert pianist instead, and cure cancer on the side. Who cares if his half-sister was cheerleading captain and half-brother played baseball, right?

* Speaking of my Asian parents and Good Friday, this morning my mom forwarded me an email joke about a talking parrot from a whorehouse. I’m pretty sure she’s unaware of the sanctity of this weekend for Catholics and Christians. I remember begging, BEGGING her to dye eggs as a kid cuz I just wanted the experience and those egg-dyeing commercials that come on between She-Ra and The Transformers make it look SO fun and magical. I have to this day NEVER had the experience of dying Easter eggs. It’s probably going to be a big disappointment if I ever do — likely messy and not magical at all.

** Speaking of Riley, next Tuesday is a county-wide event: Take Your Son/Daughter to Work day. The courthouse sponsors a tour and a snack, and the kid gets to see what we do all day and how the legal system is run. I think it has some value, since a courthouse is part of our government and many people at some point have to have contact with courts, if not on a personal legal matter, then on jury duty. It’s our civic duty. Plus, there’s something to be said about visiting lock-up and scaring the kids straight. Obviously, I’d never participated in Take Your Son/Daughter to Work day before, because they don’t allow cats, and because my mom never invited me along. I wrote her an email some years ago, when this event was advertised, “Hey mom, does your department have this program? How come you’ve never taken me to your work?” Her response was something terse, to the effect of, “Chinese parents don’t do this because children should be in SCHOOL on a weekday!” I guess I’ll be participating in Take Your Son/Daughter to Work day this year. But then, I’ve been doing a private taking my son to work for the past 7 weeks. I don’t think leaving him at home at this point is a good idea.

I went into the judge’s chambers a moment ago to fill my water bottle. He was sitting at his desk, busy opening a package of nuts. As I leaned over the water dispenser, I heard the judge say, “Hello, kiddo.” I said hello, and as I stood to leave, he said, “You came in like the fog over Chicago — on little cat feet. I didn’t even hear you.” Ah, English major judges… <3

Monday was so beautiful and warm that Ann decided to snatch me up after work to explore a Laguna Beach rooftop bar for drinks and appetizers. The Rooftop Lounge sits atop the classic hotel La Casa del Camino, mere feet from the beach with a gorgeous ocean view. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, the place was completely packed due to nice weather and their awesome happy hour. So we went downstairs to the indoor restaurant bar, K’ya Bistro Bar. We were seated promptly and our waiter looked like an off-duty actor (think younger version of Stephen Moyer). He was one of those guys who pulls off jokes with a total straight face so you’re left guessing a little, and yet was perfectly nice and accommodating.
The menu was the most shocking thing of all. Premium ingredients and quality seafood, salad, pasta, meat small dishes (altho they turned out to be way bigger than tapa-sized), averaging $8 each. I think I saw 2 or 3 items over $12. Crazy! Even their drinks were inexpensive (around $5), unbelievable given their primo waterfront real estate. Ann and I each got a wild berry mojito (virgin for me, waiter’s suggestion as I was apparently being “penalized” for being pregnant), and she ordered a goat cheese, fennel & orange salad ($5) and some wild broiled scallops atop spinach, arugula, fingerling potatoes ($12). I had a lobster truffle risotto ($10) that had plenty of chunks of lobster and visible black truffle shavings that was sooo savory. For dessert we had berries & cream with chocolate liqueur on the side (she dipped, I skipped). Ann had purchased a discounted voucher for 2 mojitos and 2 appetizers, and our waiter was nice enough to apply it to our most expensive orders (risotto and scallops), and made sure I could sub the virgin mojito. We knew we had to come back.

On the drastic opposite side of the spectrum, here’s what’s going on at work. A robbery trial began yesterday (not in my courtroom), and they were set to do jury selection. The only witness in the trial didn’t show up. Turned out, on his way home from work the evening before, the witness was gunned down and killed. So the court ended up doing a GSR (gunshot residue) test on the defendant’s hands. The defendant was apparently out on bail. Kinda makes you wonder if you would agree to be witness on a case if you saw something bad go down. =P

I’m processing divorce cases at my desk. The one I’m looking at right now shows a marriage date in September, 2010, and a separation date in November, 2010, and the wife’s Petition for divorce was filed on the same date as the separation. This would be a 2.5-month marriage. “I wonder what happened,” a coworker would sometimes say about files like this.
“She found out about what happened at his bachelor party,” is usually my automatic response.
I wonder how many times I’m actually right. It happened to Mario Lopez.

My judge wasn’t around the second half of December, so I floated to various criminal courtrooms instead. Criminal is tougher than it used to be for me, because of the new Proposition 36 in effect (eligible drug offenders can opt to go into a drug treatment program instead of getting a sentence, and if they successfully complete the sentence, their case will be dismissed; I’ve been handling way more violations of this program than completions), some changes to the criminal computer program, and because I’m just slower now, having been away from criminal law for so long.

Christmas was low-key and uneventful, just the way I like it. Mr. W tried to coordinate the stepkidlets for a dinner or lunch, but when one is available, the other is not. We ended up going to Original Mike’s with Son for ribs as an early Christmas Eve dinner as Daughter was singing at 4 Christmas church services back-to-back, then we spent some time with Daughter Christmas morning exchanging presents before she rushed off to spend the day with her best friend’s family and we went to have hot pot with my parents and grandma. My parents recently went on a small trip during which my dad found he disliked his current camera, and has been trying to convince my mom to go get a new camera with him since their return. The problem is, my mom knew I had already bought him a new camera for Christmas, so it was her job to stall him. She managed to convince him to hold off on the camera-shopping until after Christmas so they can catch a good sale. He was VERY happy when he opened his gift, and he and my mom have gone hiking since then and sent me photos they took while on the trails.

New Year’s Eve was spent with Eddie and Michelle at their house. They invited a bunch of friends over and set up three long tables for Chinese hot pot. Each table had their own hot pot, half clear broth and half red-hot spicy Szechuan. Mr. W was in hog heaven. They bought so much stuff for ingredients, and there were tons of stuff we’d never tried before, such as a calorie-free noodle tied in a knot. There were a lot of new moms and a pregnant woman in attendance, and toddlers running around. I guess that’s how friend gatherings are going to be now that we’re all at “that age” or that stage of life. Since Eddie and Michelle live in Pasadena, very close to the annual Rose Parade route, we’d planned to stay the night and visit the parade in the morning. However, as Mr. W and I were up chatting with Eddie and Michelle until 3:30am, we woke up after the parade ended, so we walked ot a quaint nearby town and had lunch instead. Another couple met us there, with their ultra-friendly 10-month-old boy in tow. The mom is pregnant again. Both the mom and dad are Asian Americans whose jobs transferred them to Beijing, where they met and started their family. They’re back in the States visiting their respective families for the holidays. The lunch table conversation was very informative (for me and Michelle, both thinking of having our first this year), and now we want to have our kid in China and get pampered the way this friend was. There’s new information to consider, definitely.

On our drive home from Pasadena, Mr. W called each of his kids to check up on them. They both seemed to have avoided big scenes out; Son spent the time at a friend’s house with many more friends playing beer pong and hanging out. He said his New Year’s Resolution is to stop smoking all things — marijuana, cigarettes, anything that requires inhalation, he was going to avoid. Even if he doesn’t stick to this 100%, any little bit of bad stuff avoided is extra good stuff banked in his life. And at least this means he knows better and has made a decision about where he feels he should and wants to be. Daughter had dinner with her boyfriend and his parents, then because he wanted to attend a couple of parties and she wanted low-key, he went out and she went to her best friend’s house to just hang out and watch TV and sports. Mr. W and I stopped by the Irvine Spectrum on the way home for lack of anything better to do, and seeing a sale sign, I went into a Levi’s jeans store and bought my first pair of Skinny-cut jeans. They have a new “curvy” cut that allows for more room in the butt and hips with a smaller waist, so that was a winner for me. I never wanted to get “skinny cut” jeans but if I want fitted jeans with legs that would fit inside boots, this is all the fashion world has to offer anymore. No more slim cut, no more fitted cut, just “skinny” and “ultra-skinny.” This just means I’ll have to work harder to look good, I guess.

Yesterday, Mr. W baked a lasagne I’d assembled on Friday and I spent all day watching a House marathon on TV, as Mr. W watched sports, played games on his iPad and his PC. The only time we got out was when we did a 4.5 mile run soon after we got up, and got back just in time to miss the rainfall.

We’re picking a jury for a month-long civil trial. I just watched “Flags of Our Fathers” so that when we swear in our jury and begin our trial, I could follow better. I’m not one to handle violence well, and although the war violence depicted in this movie was on the subtle side and nowhere near the red fountainous phantasms in “Kill Bill” or “Ninja Assassin” (the latter of which some friends wanted to watch after my July 4th shindig — photos forthcoming [of the shindig, not the gross movie] — and I spent much of the time memorizing the way our ceiling looked as these friends made sounds of horror and disgust every 20 seconds), I’m still left perturbed. So I need to do this light post to settle my stomach.

The evening of Friday June 18th, Mr. W and I drove up to Northern California for Eddie & Michelle’s Calistoga wedding ceremony. We left at 3:30p hoping to get to Sunnyvale around 10:30p to visit with college roommie Diana and stay overnight. We didn’t get out of Los Angeles in time and hit nasty rush hour traffic, so we didn’t actually arrive in NorCal until almost midnight, having made one stop for gas along the way (I drove as Mr. W napped). After arriving, we did our usual — we all chatted in Diana’s living room for awhile and then Mr. W and Diana’s fiance Eric went to bed, and Diana and I stayed up and chatted some more until past 3 in the morning. Then we went to bed only because we’d planned to hit up their local Farmer’s Market first thing Saturday. On Saturday, Mr. W woke up early as normal, I got up soon after and since Diana and Eric were still sleeping, Mr. W and I went to the Farmer’s Market. I bought a string of colored pearls and matching earrings to go with my dress. Diana and Eric soon biked over and met us, and then we all went out for brunch at a nice restaurant on Santana Row. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant, but here’s a picture of me and Diana there.

I know, the drinks look yummy, but the martini in front of me is actually staged. It belongs to Mr. W; I wasn’t drinking. After brunch, Diana and I went to her bridal boutique for her final decision on her bridal gown. Her friends Caroline and Melanie met us there. (Mr. W hung out at a nearby Starbucks.) Diana tried on the 3 dresses she’d narrowed it down to. All 3 have the same simple A-line silhouette that she’d already decided she looked best in. The first had stitchwork and lines in a chevron that drew attention to the smallness of her waist and was very flattering, and when she walked out of the dressing room I had to hold back tears. I knew this wasn’t her favorite, but I couldn’t imagine how another dress could top how beautiful she looked in that one. She popped back into the dressing room and came out in her favorite, dress #2. If I didn’t cry seeing this, it was only because I was in shock that she found a dress that topped dress #1. Dress #2’s design had embellishments and embroidery around the ribs but left the top and bottom simple, and not only was the dress itself impressive, but it seemed taylored to showcase Diana’s figure. SHE looked beautiful in Dress #2. I wish I could post a photo I took on my cell, but her fiance Eric may read this and he’s not allowed to see the dress (which makes me really wish I had photos of the other 2 dresses so that I could post them). Dress #3 was gorgeous and had a jeweled bodice and jeweled skirt and intricate beadwork everywhere, but it was way fancier than Diana would normally be, and certainly not as simple as the wedding she was now planning. It also took the attention off Diana and focused it on all the bling. She finalized her pick for #2, said, “Yay, that was easy,” made the transaction, and was done.

Mr. W and I left from there to Napa Valley for Eddie and Michelle’s pre-wedding dinner at Cole’s Chophouse. We got there early and explored the quaint small town, did a little winetasting at a local bar, and walked to the restaurant to meet the couple and the other guests. Here’s the couple of the weekend at the restaurant:

After dinner, Mr. W drove through miles of dark windy forest roads (much to his aggravation) and checked in at our hotel in Santa Rosa, The Fountaingrove Inn. I liked the place and the restaurant where we had 2 mornings of breakfast. Loved the zen of the lobby. The next morning (Sunday), we drove to Calistoga’s Hans Fahden Vineyards for the wedding. What a gorgeous location! I took a lot of photos, but I’ll hold off posting them without the couple’s permission. 🙂 The ceremony was short, sweet, fun, pretty, and they even incorporated some wine drinking into the symbolism. When in Rome…
After the ceremony and a dessert reception with delicious dulce de leche cake, we all left the vineyard and met up in town for lunch. As it was father’s day, I made sure to call my dad and wish him a happy daddy’s day after I ordered. Cuz I’m thoughtful like that. =) Of course, this is the first year I recall doing that. I’d even forgotten to wish Mr. W a happy father’s day that morning as we were in a rush trying to eat and get ready to go to the wedding. His kids didn’t forget to text him, tho. Most of the wedding guests left to fly or drive home after this lunch, but we had reserved our hotel until Monday, knowing we couldn’t drive back in time after the festivities and get enough rest before having to go to work, so the four of us hung out and had dessert and coffee in town.

The above photo convinced me that 1.) I need to go back to the gym, and 2.) I need a haircut and new style. Just for fun, I’m gonna post something Michelle recently emailed me…a photo when the 4 of us hung out for dinner at a boutique hotel in Newport Beach the evening after their official wedding at our courthouse in February, cuz they’re sort of identical situations.

We said our goodbyes to Eddie and Michelle after that as they were driving to San Francisco later that evening. We went back to the hotel and went to bed early.
Monday, Mr. W and I went back to Calistoga. We couldn’t leave the city without doing the 2 most touristy things there. The first is the hot springs mineral mud bath. We booked a combination thing for couples at Golden Haven.

For a set price, we were first immersed in our own tubs of mud enriched with the local natural hot springs water (“hot” is an understatement; the guy had to dump ice cubes over the spot where my feet were so that I could manage to submerge them)…

…and then we rinsed the mud off in a large shower area that was in our private mud room. Of course these showers used the hot mineral spring water. Next we got to soak in a mineral spa at the other side of the same private room. Lastly, we were taken to a massage room where we were wrapped in blankets to help the body have a slow cool-down. I fell asleep there.

The 2nd thing we couldn’t leave Calistoga without doing is, of course, wine tasting at a vineyard. We weren’t big wine people, so some other wedding peeps recommended we visit Sterling Vineyards.

For a reasonable price, we were put in an aerial tram…

…and taken up into the mountain where the factory (are wine places called factories?) is located, and we get a self-guided tour of the place, learn about how wine is made…

…and get 5 samples of wines at areas throughout the tour. It beats just sitting at a counter and drinking a bunch of red stuff.

What a picturesque area! This is the view from the terrace of the building.

We did end up buying a pack of wine, which we didn’t expect we’d do…but of course it was the sweet pack with all the dessert wines and stuff. Haha! It was a great first visit for both of us to Calistoga and Napa.

OH. I need to add that all photos except for the two “foursome” photos were taken with my new LG Ally cell phone. Pretty decent, huh?

Here’s a Friday ha-ha for you guys, altho it wasn’t funny at the time…

Yesterday morning, I posted this status message:
Cindy does not like dreams wherein Dodo’s tail falls off. =(
Claudio: It was a dream. Just put it back on!
Me: I thought it was going to grow back on its own! So I wasn’t TOO worried…until his intestines started coming out, too! Then I ran around trying to find a phone book in English so that I could find a 24-hr emergency pet hospital to take him to, but I couldn’t find any medical help! *cry*
Claudio: That happens when u only feed them chia seeds!
Me: cats aren’t vegetarian!

Earlier as I was sitting in my courtroom, I heard peals of laughter and giggles coming from the hall behind me. I poked my head out the door and saw two judges and a court reporter laughing. I said to one of my favorite judges, who apparently was the one entertaining the others, “I came to see what you’re drinking this early in the morning, and to ask if I could have some.”
As the other two waved their goodbyes and left, this judge said, “I’ll tell you the story, since I’m telling everybody…yesterday I was picking a jury on a double-murder trial, and one of the attorneys asked the [prospective] jurors, ‘Are any of you going to be squeamish looking at photos of dead people?’ One little blonde raised her hand. The attorney asked, ‘You’d feel squeamish?’ She nodded shyly. He asked, ‘Why?’ She said earnestly, ‘…Because I’m a vegetarian.’ ”
He laughed so hard he took out his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.