Rejected!
“Isn’t your divorce over by now, little girl?”
That was my Mom asking the question I get on a regular basis. It’s been almost two years since I filed for a divorce and I’m still not finished with the paperwork. Most of the problem is that I’m my own attorney — and I’m a terrible at it!
When I began this process, I didn’t know the plantiff (moi) from the defendant (my soon to be ex-husband, Endicott), or the terms default, stipulated agreement or proof of service. Hell, if it wasn’t for the nice people at the Legal Aid Center in Van Nuys, California, I might still be stuck wondering how to fill out the line that asks for the names of the plantiff and the defendant!
It also doesn’t help that the Legal Aid Center is understaffed, overworked and overrun with legal system-challenged goofballs such as myself. The LAC people happily help us, but can only do so on a first come, first served basis for the first fifteen people in line. Because we require lots and lots of hand holding to get the most basic stuff done, this can take up most of their day. As a consequence, there is some competition to get in line early to be assured a spot. Today, I was there at 7:30am and I was still second in line! The first person sat in a camping chair and chatted easily with her boyfriend. Or maybe he was her soon to be ex-husband. It’s wasn’t clear except that they were friendly and comfortable, so that probably rules out the later!
Today the lovely LAC folks assured me I finally have my divorce papers in order. I made a bajillion copies before filing them with the Court. I hope they’re right as I’ve submitted various papers, as well as this packet twice now, only to be rejected each time. It’s worked out to one visit a month to the county clerk’s office, each met with one rejection letter a month to my apartment. (Doh!)
I’m sooooooooooooooooo ready to be over with this process! I want to be a singleton again! No more hemming and hawing over my married/separated/practically single status. I’d like to just say I’m single, that’s it. It will also be fantastic to have my maiden name returned to me. My married name is a gigantic pain in the tuckus as it is nine letters long, full of consenants and a little tough to pronounce. My maiden name is a common latin name (think a Spanish world version of Smith or Jones), four letters long and super easy to spell and say, at least in heavily Latino populated Southern California.
There’s also the fact that I resent my married name. I only adopted it to please Endicott. For years, he bugged me for it with a whole lot of, “Wouldn’t it be nice if you changed your name to mine?” (No.) “I’d really like it if you’d change your last name to mine. We’re married now, we should have the same name. Don’t you think so? But only if you want to, of course. I know that I want you to, but I also know I can never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you’d like to that, it could be a really great present to me, if you’re interested…” And on, and on, and on. He didn’t care about my attachement to my name. He wanted what he wanted whether I liked it or not. Every time he brought it up, I expressed how much I wanted to keep my last name as it so much a part of who I was, so why should I change it? If he’s so nonchalant about name changes, he should just change his surname to mine. That suggestion always got me a dirty look! After several years of his pestering, I gave in to his silly request to adopt his silly name. Now that’s we’re over, I’m dying to reclaim my birthname!
Hopefully, this la(te)st batch of papers will take and I’ll finally be a free agent again — with my own easy to spell last name across the back of my jersey!
Third time is a charm?
Flo
2 comments April 25th, 2007