Yesterday was Deposition Day. The day that I first-ever laid eyes upon the woman who nearly crushed Yours Truly with her mother's sedan exactly two years ago on the 21st of avril. A quick glance was sufficient. And her mother was there, and she sat, non-stoically, during my interview, rolling her eyes and sighing aloud and shaking her head as if she had written - even produced - the accident. The other driver woman was mysteriously absent, sent down the hallway to wait the two hours. I had to divert my attention from the shaking and sighing mother by telling myself that she was deranged and had a nervous condition to not glance in her direction with my patented paint-melt stare. I had met earlier with my attorney, Tom, and told him I was afeared of becoming emotional rehashing. I did not, only once I found myself sort of lost in that memory, looking perhaps too intently too long down at the conference room table. So, the joyous part of this accidental tale is that Tom hammered, to usurp his verb, the other driver woman until she admitted that she ran the red light. Lead Boy Colleague, an expert in all things depo, said now my fate, or case, is sealed. Or something to that effect.
And so on.
Convinced Middling City U's Law Library that they should indeed give me, a litigious alum, a permissive card to fondle (not borrow) all their legal tomes for the next year. But, thankfully, that'll be necessary only until the end of my Parsons School of Law course in IP. . . a few more months where I can glean more info about all things CopyLeft. JW,Esq. thinks I am now an IP geek and, coming from senior corporate counsel for Oracle of the left banks of the USofA, I take that as a compliment most deliciously supreme.
After this long-ass day of freelancing, regal legal researching and more more more I find Oban and Orton and some digital editing to be just the thing to usher in a new day.
New Love.

special ps: link to this Kill Bill-related game, discovered as a link on a Japanese blog.