An Apple a Day(?)

Not knowing any of my immunization history, and figuring that it would be far worse to acquire lock-jaw over a weekend, I called my doctor and had him give me a tetanus shot.

Seeing as several people have asked, I should probably explain what I learned about tetanus. (I am no doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday-Inn Express once.) According to the nurse I spoke with and some Websites devoted to providing information on tetanus, any type of injury that breaks the skin can lead to a tetanus infection. The tetanus bacteria itself is found in dust, soil, and manure. So dirty implements are more likely to have the bacteria on them. However, the bacteria can also enter the wound after the laceration has been made. The only safe way to avoid getting it is to have a tetanus shot every five to ten years. Quite a gap there, huh? I still do not quite understand that part and everyone seemed to have their own opinion on it. However, absolutely every medical person I spoke with agreed that I needed one. In comparison to the flu shot, I have to say that this one had much more lingering pain, but I am not sure if that is attributable to the medicine itself or if maybe the nurse somehow hit a muscle. However, they were all really nice about it.

In other news, Apple has annoyed me quite a bit. I have been using an iPod for a little over two years without incident. However, ever since they released their recent patches, to make sure all those unlocked iPhones would no longer work, I have found it completely impossible to get iTunes to recognize my iPod, or if it does, iTunes will generally then crash. It got to the point that I just didn't think I could even use my iPod anymore. So I wrote Steve Jobs and one of Apple's tech people emailed me back, requesting some follow-up information. This was great. I was so impressed. I was even more impressed when a tech tracked down my number through their internal system, and called me. Unfortunately, they called me while I was at work and my computer and iPod reside at home. So, they had to schedule a service call for the weekend.

The weekend came and went and Apple never called me. So, I emailed them and they apologized and promised to resolve the issue. A new tech guy called me a few hours later and scheduled a callback for the next weekend (last weekend). Well, once again, I never got a phone call, until hours later, when I was no longer anywhere near my home. We are now on week three, but they swear they are going to call me this time. I still at least give them props for contacting me. I doubt I could have ever gotten a response this easily out of Microsoft. Plus, they did not invent Vista - an operating system that seems doomed to fail and go the way of Windows Me.

A Slice of Life

It's good to have goals. My goal this season was to cook more with squash. No, not the yellow and zucchini squashes you so often see. I am talking about spaghetti, butternut, and acorn squash. Mmmm. The types of squash I have always been intrigued and fascinated by but never attempted to do anything with because they are foreign and unknown. It's fairly easy for me to figure out what to with everyday squash, but these are different and weird.

So, I started small. Spaghetti squash with herbs and butter. Delicious. Easy. Next on the menu was pasta with butternut squash and eggplant in a yummy sauce. The trick was that the recipe called for the squash to be peeled. Getting home, I stared at the oddly shaped squash, considering how I was exactly supposed to peel it. It did not appear to be the typical vegetable one can peel with a peeler. I probably needed a knife. Reducing it to a manageable size, I began trying to cut away the flesh from the peel. Suddenly, the knife slipped from the squash, sailed through the air and sliced straight through my skin, plunging deeply into my thumb. Oh, and did the blood flow.

Did I need stitches? I was not really sure. Clearly, I needed to get the bleeding to stop, but was it bad enough for an ER visit and lots of money in the form of a co-pay? Finishing dinner, I elevated my hand and let the cloth towl adhere to the wound, eventually replacing it with a bandage that would similarly adhere, but look less obtrusive.

Yesterday, I kept wondering if I needed stitches, looking at pictures online and comparing them to my own gaping wound, it still seemed unclear. It sure looked like that one there that needed them, but it also looked a lot like this other one that didn't. I called a nurse through my insurance company. "When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?"

"That is truly excellent question. Unfortunately, my last doctor lost every medical record I had and I have been spending the last month trying to track down pediatricians and other previous doctors, piecing together my past." Some fear a large company like Google or Microsoft being in-charge of maintaining our medical records, but to be honest, I'd feel more comfortable having them all in one place, in a hopefully safe and secure format. Not out of any concern that others might hack in and steal them. I assume they could do that at my doctor's office now. But more out of a concern that they too would one day just lose all my records and ask me if I was sure I was ever really a patient. I cannot imagine how wonderful it will be to be able to call one place and obtain all of my medical records from one source. No multiple offices to call, and multiple release forms to fill out. Sure, it sounds stupid and silly, but when you suddenly really need to have this information and cannot locate it, it becomes really, really important.

On the bright side, the squash dish turned out to be delicious, and the wound appears to be healing. However, I still do not know if I need a shot or if I will develop lockjaw or something equally as bad in the coming days. Of course, if I do, it will give me another exciting event to post about.

Paranoia

It seems that every few weeks, something dramatic happens at my office - an attorney gets disbarred, someone gets fired, a death or illness strikes someone related to the people in our office, etc., and last week was no exception to the rule.

Two weeks ago, another small firm moved into some of our then vacant office space, which formerly housed the offices of an attorney that soon found the need to expeditiously retire from the practice of law. It seems like a great arrangement had emerged, a new happy office coming to join our office of misfits. Of course, that was week one, or as I like to think of it, the calm before the paranoid and psychotic yelling that ended, as all good dramas do, with police involvement. As with all incidents at my office involving the police, and I believe there have been at least two in the last year I have not been there; I am always away when all the cool and exciting stuff goes down.

Returning from lunch, I saw a police car parked downstairs. Briefly, I considered that perhaps they were here for our office but then quickly dismissed this notion, assuming that they must have other important business to attend to within the hallowed walls of our building. It was not until I set foot in the office that I learned that not only had someone been fired, but that the police had to be called on the terminated employee. It took until the following day for me to get all the relevant details, not from a lack of trying to bury my head in the stand and remain aloof and uninvolved. Sometimes, people just *need* to share and I seem to be close at hand.

Apparently, one of the legal secretaries for the law firm that just moved in to our office became convinced that a member of her staff, one of the attorneys or another secretary, was stealing her passwords and messing around with her bank accounts and email. This led to outbursts of racial slurs against not only another legal secretary who is dating a black man, but also against one of Florida's finest. Needless to say, the law firm had no trouble convincing the police that the woman had quite possibly come unhinged and they were more than willing to assist in any way they could. Unfortunately, there really was not too much they could do and the people in the office had to leave the building later with caution, as the one taking a ride over the cuckoo's nest was taking a detour, circling our parking lot.

One may think the story stops there, but one would be wrong, as now there seems to be people thinking that perhaps the woman that only days before was considered delusional and potentially dangerous was on the right track and that this new firm is not all nice and friendly but sneaky, dirty, and underhanded, or maybe there is just one bad apple in the bunch. I have no idea if they are right, but if they are, I am sure it will lead to another exciting installment down the road.

Look, I Wrote Something

So, for all of you out there that think I do not write enough, I share with you my very recent letter to the editor of the New York Times. I very rarely write any letters to the editor, but the article annoyed me a lot.

You ran an article called "A Need for a Will? Often, There's an Online Way" and I had a few comments about it.

The article seemed to suggest that many people can save money by having their estate planning documents prepared online. I am an estate planning and probate attorney in Florida, and I have had the chance to see the finished products of some of these online companies, and I have to say that all the documents I have seen from these online estate planning companies are terrible and miss many significant issues.

In Florida, if you die and your Will does not have a notarized affidavit attached to it, the family has to go find one of the witnesses to the Will, get them to the county in Florida where the decedent died, and pay an officer of the court to administer an oath. Finding those witnesses and getting them to the courthouse can often prove quite daunting. For example, if the Will was executed in New York, but the decedent lived in Florida at the time of their death, your heirs will likely have to fly the person down. Worse, the witnesses may not be able to be located or they may be deceased.

The forms almost never cover Florida homestead issues. If a deceased person owned their Florida residence individually and is survived by a spouse and minor children, the home will vest a life estate in the surviving spouse and a remainder interest in all of the decedent's children, irrespective of what the Will says. Many people have no idea this happens, and their heirs are caught completely unaware. Now, what happens if the surviving spouse needs to sell the home? Who can sign on behalf of the minor child? Your heirs will probably need to hire a guardianship attorney. What if some of your children do not want to let the spouse sell the home? There could be litigation.

Not having planning forms is almost as bad, however, as many people believe that their money will just go to their spouse at their death. This too is a false assumption. Under Florida intestacy law, if you die without a Will, one half of your assets pass to your spouse (irrespective of whether you are separated) and the remainder passes to your children. If any of your children happen to be under the age of eighteen when they receive an inheritance, a guardianship estate will likely need to be established and administered, producing additional attorneys' fees.

The article also neglects to mention that if an estate planning document drafted by an attorney fails to produce the desired results, and costs the decedent additional money, the attorney's malpractice carrier should cover the difference. As an illustration, your article mentions a man who lost 80% of his estate to the IRS because he improperly drafted his own document. If that document had been drafted by an attorney and it had not produced the outcome intended, it is quite likely that the attorney would have been responsible for the additional taxes and the heirs would have received all of their money.

No one wants to spend money. However, in this case, you get what you pay for. Unfortunately, it will not be you that has to live with the consequences of going the cheaper route but your heirs, the people for whom you originally attempted to protect. Additionally, if one shops around, one can often find reasonably priced attorneys who can prepare simple documents for somewhere in the neighborhood of $500. Yes, it costs more, but it may save you and your family substantially more in the end, and give everyone added piece of mind.

Lack of Tension

I suppose I really do need to blog more. I have not been very good at sticking to it. Every week, I think I will be better at it and every week, I don't seem to be. I guess I often feel that I do not have anything interesting or exciting to say. Back when I used to blog more, I had a lot of exciting things happening, with terrible dating stories and reflections on relationships, dating, and women. I know there were some other things thrown in there, but I think that was a lot of the subject matter. After a while, I sort of ran out of things to say and I started dating someone and we didn't breakup. Suddenly, my life, while becoming more full, seemed a lot more boring. I guess that is probably a good sign - not having colorful fights every week and having large issues going on all the time probably is an indication of something fairly healthy. However, I also feel less exciting. Suddenly, Kevin Smith's blog title, My Boring Ass Life, makes a whole lot more sense to me.

So many of the sitcoms and movies you see are about the boy getting the girl, but not many of them actually involve what happens once that quest is achieved. Even if the hero does somehow manage to catch the object of his affection, it is likely not going to last very long. Something bad is bound to happen, and there will be tension and drama once again. One would assume that the reason for this is that actual normal relationships are probably just plain boring to anyone watching. To the people in them, there are the twists and turns, but the nuance is probably only barely grasped by the casual observer.

One of my best friends recently sent me a cookbook. She said that she had thought of getting me this book months ago, back when my blog seemed to be more about food. I thought the gift was so sweet of her, as I really do enjoy cooking. However, I felt a little sad because I still do cook, I just neglect to ever share that part of my life on here any more. It just no longer occurs to me that I still do some of those things that I used to think blog worthy. For example, my girlfriend and I recently bought a slow cooker. I was reading a blog or something and one guy mentioned that he cooks some big stew or something every weekend in a slow cooker and he and his girlfriend slowly consume it here and there during the week, letting them eat more home cooked meals, but not spending a ton of time doing so. I thought this was a great idea. So, we got one.

This weekend, I made chicken chili which tastes absolutely amazing. I am extremely picky when it comes to chili, especially chicken chili, but I absolutely love this one. I also love that as the slow cooker cooks for eight hours, the smells that fill my apartment are completely stellar. Granted, I still cook other things and I really enjoy it. But this just adds a new dimension to everything. I can have one thing cooking and still be making other things during the day. This week, I plan to make a spaghetti squash and herb dish, with this rather large squash we bought at out neighborhood farmers' market.

On Saturday, we woke up at the crack of dawn to go participate in a 5K to support a group that helps people out of domestic violence situations. It was really surprising to see so many people up that early on a Saturday. A good number of them even appeared to be high school kids just out there to support the the cause. I thought that was really cool. The run took place right next to the ocean, and we tried to watch the sunrise, but it was overcast. Still, it was a great experience, even if I did have to wake up at 4 or 5 to do it.

On Sunday, we went to church, had lunch with my best friend (I have a few), went to the gym, and ate chicken chili. Yum. I also succeeded in getting my haircut. Small goals. Next weekend, we are going to Halloween Horror Nights at Universal in Orlando. I love how much cheaper it is to go there as a Florida resident. We have a hotel and everything, and we will also get to see some of my friends while we are up there.

In That Kiss

I have heard countless women say that they can tell if a man is good in bed by the way he kisses or the way he moves his hips on the dance floor. Although, I now have at least one friend that can personally attest to the fact that a man's prowess with his lips bears no relation to his abilities in bed, and that apparently, hips do lie. Most recently, a girlfriend told me that it all depended on how a man hugs. I am not even sure I follow the logic there, but it is likely just as good of a system as any of the former ones discussed. A good way, perhaps, of separating the wheat from the chaff when you are out on the prowl - looking for love in all the wrong places.

I have never much bought into any of these theories about how you can tell if someone is a good lover based upon the way a person kisses, dances, or hugs. It all seems too unrelated to me. However, I do have a method for selecting who I kiss, or at least a way of immediately disqualifying promising candidates. I wait to see if they end up with a cigarette dangling from their hands; the telltale puff of smoke haloing their head as they coolly extract the cylinder from between their lips, exhaling with that cool, calculated, devil may care expression. It kills it for me.

However, this was not always a standard of mine. I was young and naive, out with the girl I was dating at the time. As she continued to consume copious amounts of alcohol, she lit up a cigarette, an act I had never seen her perform in the past. I will never forget the lingering taste as our lips met. It was like what I imagine kissing an ashtray would be like. The bitter acidic flavor permeated my entire body and it became a mission to escape from her embrace as quickly as possible. Please, dear God, let me go. From that night on, I was a devout follower of a new doctrine: no matter how hot she is, if there's something round and long between her lips, it better not be a cigarette.

To this day, I continue to marvel, not just at the fact that people continue to smoke, but that these people actually find other people willing to kiss them, let alone procreate with them. I cannot imagine having to suffer through that experience every day for any period of time, and I have dated women with some of the most devastating and debilitating halitosis of all time.