Weekend Review

So, as you (my loyal readers - all three of you) know, I went to Orlando this past weekend to attend the Fringe Festival and see my girlfriend's play, and maybe a couple others. Fortunately, I really liked her play. I thought it was funny and thoughtful and discussed things the way they often actually occur in relationships. Unfortunately, a 50-something year old critic with the Orlando Sentinel disagreed, but having been at her show, I think she may have also been deaf or ignoring all of the laughter from the entire audience. (Granted, the first showing had almost all younger people and maybe there is some sort of separation between what appeals to 20 and 30-something year olds and what appeals to a 50-something year old, but it was quite clear to everyone there that there was something funny happening on that stage.) See what I just did there - I just critiqued a critic. Although, it was not just her review of my girlfriend's play that I disagreed with. (So at least I am consistent.) I also tried to see other shows, but the first other show I tried was really not so good and rather disturbing. (Of course Ms. Maupin (that's the critic for those of you not following my links) seemed to almost kind of like it. I tried to comment and lend my opinion on her blog, but she would not accept it unless I gave her my full name. Perhaps I need a new pseudonym for my online presence.) I think that show turned me off from going to more, and I instead focused most of the rest of my trip on reading my book and food.

I am not well versed in theater. That's not an entirely true statement. I grew up going to lots of shows and have seen a variety of productions, but I often find that I am disappointed with the majority of them. I also feel the experience is overpriced ($40 to see a show or something), but I think that likely has to do with the production company trying to re-coupe its costs for renting out the hall and other various costs for sets and payroll. In any event, the Fringe Festival is definitely a great opportunity to get out there and see a lot of cool independent theater that you probably would not get to see elsewhere and it's amazingly inexpensive. I highly encourage everyone to go because I think art and theater are important and did I mention it is really cheap. Of course, lots of you probably do not live anywhere near Orlando and this all probably was a waste of words. However, there may be something like it in your area and I really think it can be a great experience and just because I hated something does not mean you will. (End of lecture on the importance of the arts.)

The food selection in Orlando is very impressive. It can be a little dizzying to take in all of the food options that one has in that city. When my friend and I first arrived on Saturday morning, we were pretty hungry and no one was at the venue yet. So, we happened to turn down the road and see a small eatery surrounded by people with signs proclaiming that they were now serving breakfast. Enter stage right: White Wolf Cafe, which started serving breakfast about a week and a half ago and has an awesome menu. The cinnamon roll really was delicious, but the sugar cured ham and french toast, not to mention the sweet potato home fries, were delightful. It turned out we had found a local spot completely on accident and it was good enough to bring everyone back to for lunch after the show.

Sunday was a little more difficult, as I was too busy reading and napping to make it over to the venue area of town during the day. As such, I was forced to venture out on my own closer to the hotel and stumble upon yet another local favorite, which I think was called Mulligan's Irish Pub. This place was great and completely empty, which made little sense. However, the waitress, Nicole, explained that Sundays generally had little or no turnout, unless there was a football game. So, I was forced - forced I tell you - to enjoy some delicious Guinness and watch an entire soccer game. It was horrible and I can barely bring myself to speak about it. *sniff* I will have to go back.

Of course, next week when I go up to Orlando to see my girlfriend's last show I intend to try out Five Guys Burgers and Fries, which I am told is supposed to be amazing. I am sure if it comes anywhere close to living up to the expectations I now have for it, you will all (all three of you) hear about it next week. However, they appear to be more of a chain that is springing up everywhere and less of a local dining experience, which is both good and bad.

On The Fringe

This weekend, I have to drive to Orlando. I remember when I was younger, I loved to drive and would take every opportunity to drive everywhere - as far and as much as possible. When you live at least a half-hour away from everything, it really is not too hard to find far away places to drive to. However, something happened between then and now. I do not know if it is because more people on the road scare me than ever before or the fact that I have to spend almost as much as I spend in week's worth of groceries for a tank gas, but it no longer holds the same allure it once did. I always find myself wishing I could take a train instead and read a book or something on the way. (Generally, Florida's Highway Patrol frowns on book reading while driving.) Unfortunately, Florida does not really have much of a mass transit system to speak of.

I have no choice this weekend, though. My girlfriend's play opens this weekend at the Orlando Fringe Festival and I cannot wait to see it. In a few months, I will need to go to New York (but I'll at least be flying there) to see it in the New York Fringe Festival. I am so proud of her for accomplishing all of this, all while working at her day job, writing a novel, and participating in all the other things that she does. I look forward to being able to go to the play and see at least some of the fruits of all of her labor. I also think it will be fun to be up there and check out some of the other shows that are happening.

Our trip to Costa Rica is fully planned and booked - even our airport parking. I guess we did not book activities in advance, but mostly because one cannot predict Costa Rican weather. So, it's easier to do all of that, we think, once we arrive. I am so excited, and I know my girlfriend is excited to have this to look forward to after all the stress of the Orlando show is over. This way she can de-stress and relax in-time for stressing out again over the New York show.

The Land of Blog

After being at this blogging thing for a couple of years, I have a few notes to make. First, a lot of people do not seem to keep at it for more than a year or two. I am not sure if they just run out of things to say or if they run out of time. For example, a lot of bloggers seem to be recently out of relationships or doing something similarly exciting, giving them frequent things to write about. Ahhh , drama. Others are just in college or not working or doing something that gives them a decent amount of time in which to stare into the misty haze of their brains and pluck something entertaining out and set it into words.

In either event, most of the bloggers, if not all of the bloggers, I was reading when I started are now gone (it's really easy to become old as a blogger), with the notable exceptions of Stephanie Klein and Chris Diclerico. The former being a writer, I sort of would expect her to continue blogging. Not that I have any real basis for this assumption; lots of authors do not maintain blogs, but I just sort of take it for granted that she will. Until she finally has a nervous break down and cannot take all the crap anymore and calls it quits. Chris is more a finder of stuff he finds cool and throwing it up there, which I feel, makes the blogging process somewhat easier for him, but it is still cool to see a familiar face in my rss feeds still updating.

Still, there are some cool fucking people blogging. For example, through blogging, I got to ask a former stripper tons of stupid questions I had always wanted to ask a stripper, and given that I have never even been to a strip club, I probably would have had to wait a lot longer to ask any of these questions without this thing we call Internet and these things we call blogs. Today, this was reaffirmed when I found the blog of a former circus performer. Oh, yes, you heard me correctly, a fucking circus performer, like on a flying trapeze and shit. How unbelievably cool is that? I just find that to be so awesome. Almost as cool as the day I found out (and then proceeded to forget over and over again as though I am some eighty year old suffering from Alzheimer's) Kevin Smith has a blog.

I always wonder if I am doing my blog correctly - whether I am writing blog-worthy items or things others would find interesting, or even things I find interesting. Sometimes I write serious posts about things I feel uniquely capable of speaking about or think I can offer a perspective that has not been expressed fifty-million times by other bloggers and random pundits out there, and sometimes I just write random fiction that some people seem to really enjoy but that others seem to lack any interest in whatsoever. To an extent, though, I always feel that if I am writing anything, it is probably better than not writing at all. It keeps the cobwebs from getting too thick, but some days I really wish it all would flow as well as it used to. Although, I am still not sure if it was ever *that* easy. Maybe blogging is easier when your life isn't - when things in your life are dramatic, you have a reality show to set down into words.

Recently, Janet said that I should write more about the past and the future. I am not sure if she meant I should start writing about dinosaurs and spaceships, but it sounded definitely interesting and broad.

Weddings

I hate weddings. There, I said it. Almost every wedding I have ever attended, I have done so under duress, or with significant peer pressure. "C'mon, you have to go - you are in the wedding party." As if that is some valid excuse to allow someone to make me suffer. I also learned that being in the wedding party can actually be its own form of hell because you do not just get to show up for the wedding. Oh, no. You're in it for the long haul when you are in the party. Also, the whole "party" portion of the title should be dropped because it is not a party, unless by party you mean an excruciating painful ordeal that will haunt you for years to come.

Many people approach weddings with a much rosier attitude. In fact, I know people that actually enjoy going to them. I, however, experience only dread. I, actually, maintain a mental list of my friends who are likely marital candidates, and whose weddings I would have to attend. Every time one of their weddings is over, I breathe a sigh of relief and cross that name off my invisible list. Fortunately, the list has been growing smaller. For while I know many people, most of them are married and I can probably find a good excuse for missing many of the others' blissful days.

I do not really understand the entire mindset behind the wedding. I know it is supposed to have something to do with having all the people that are important to you coming together to help celebrate the occasion and the bride and groom's new life together. However, I feel like they could easily accomplish all of that without me there. I do not really need to bear witness to the vows and endure the ceremony. Would it not be easier for the couple to go elope and then invite me to a big party at a later date so that we can celebrate then. I think it would save them a lot of money and angst that way. However, the rest of the world would probably not subscribe to my viewpoint.

I was recently invited to one of my good friend's weddings. (She is one of the few remaining people on my list.) She and I used to hang out quite a bit in college and I think her fiance is a pretty cool guy. This made receiving the invitation and deciding what to do with it a particular inner-struggle for me. (Think Superman III, but with much more mediocre special effects.) On the one hand, I am extremely happy that they are getting married to one another. I think they are a great match and I want to show my support and solidarity, but on the other, I hate weddings.

So, I asked my friend what she thought of my dilemma and she left it entirely up to me. In my heart, I am fairly sure I have to go to her wedding or I just will not feel right about it. However, I am still trying to work myself up to the requisite level of excitement that seems to be required for such a momentous day.

Another Year Older

Last week, for my birthday, my girlfriend took me to see This American Life. I know what you are all thinking, how could you see a radio show. (Alright, only the few of you that read this blog, who know what that show is, are thinking that.) Well, the show tried something experimental, which is often the case. They asked their listeners to vote online and tell them if they would be interested in attending a live performance of the This American Life radio show (and their Showtime television show) - this live performance would be held in New York but broadcast live to various movie theaters throughout the country. Evidently, demand was high, and we quickly acquired our tickets. It was really quite a lot of fun - once we located the movie theater it was at, and while the show was two hours, it really did not feel very long at all.

We also went to a restaurant/bar bar we had seen on a Food Network show. (This was after, of course, we got some of the best bagels you can get outside of New York and before we went to see Iron Man.) The restaurant is basically a sports bar that serves unexpected fare. For example, you would not expect to find brie wheels, escargot, and fresh encrusted grouper sandwiches at your everyday watering hole. I did not think the food lived up to the hype provided in the show, but none of it was bad. In fact, the garlic fries and flank steak sandwiches were, by all accounts, delightful. My girlfriend was also quite pleased to learn that morning that quality bagels are closer than New York. Granted, acquiring them requires a trip to Miami, but I think she would consider that a small price to pay.

Finally, we booked our tickets to Costa Rica and will be leaving in about a month. I am still coordinating some of the hotel details but almost all of that is finalized and with a little luck, will be completely sorted out by the end of the day. Then I just have to sort out our travelers insurance and medications and we should be good to go. It was expected that the trip would have to be delayed until November but it all came together at the last minute and the Internet helped make it all much easier to accomplish.

SP-1

As some of you might remember, I happen to have very strong opinions regarding Windows Vista, and just when I started getting used to many of its idiosyncrasies, which I had a Microsoft technical support person tell me, makes it a better operating system, I received the Service Pack 1 update from Microsoft. Oh, hooray, for me. My computer now does not seem to know if it really wants to start Windows or just sort of sit there in a listless state for a minute or two. This is an improvement, right? I am sure Microsoft would silently coo in my ear that it is all for the best and that this release makes everything better, but from where I sit, it has basically downgraded my OS.

The other day, I went to a training with a bunch of attorneys. It required everyone to have their own laptop. It was here that I saw my very first Macbook Air. I did not really realize that it was anything special at first glance, but it was being discussed by everyone else in the room and the technical support person in attendance offered his two cents of derision for all things Apple. A few minutes later, the presenter's computer had a significant error, bringing down several key features of Windows and the programs running in it. The attorney looked over to him and said, "Want to borrow my Mac?"

I still am not sold on the whole Mac concept. My girlfriend has one and whenever I want to do something on it, I feel like I have to complete extra steps to accomplish anything and I do not fully understand its architecture with the installation and removal of programs. I assume if I took the time to learn about it, I would figure it all out, but that seems time consuming. In college, I worked as technical support help desk guy. The Macs were always the worst, until they upgraded them all and then everyone wanted to use a Mac. I still, however, did not experience the same joy with them. For example, it still bothers me that when I close a program in a Mac, it does not close the program because I have to quit the program to close it.

It is little things like that that can bug me. However, the Mac OS is probably still a superior operating system. After all, they originated the entire concept of Windows. All Microsoft did was make Dos look really pretty.

Life Gets in the Way

I don't think I really have any excuse for not writing. Well, at least no new excuse for not writing.

The past few weeks have been incredibly busy in every aspect of my life. When I am not working, cooking, going to the gym, reading, updating my Flickr feed, or all of those other things one does with their days, I seem to be sleeping and commenting on other people's blogs - sometimes at the same time, which really can get confusing for everyone involved.

My best friend for the last two years stopped speaking to me. There was no explanation. No Earth shattering argument or anything else. One day, she was explaining how much she would miss me if she was forced to move and the next day, we were no longer speaking. I am sure there must have been more to it on her end, but that is all I got on mine. It was really sort of traumatic. Here was this person that I spoke to almost every day suddenly no longer returning my calls. I tried really hard to think of what I might have done, but I could not derive any answers from my too numerous hours staring blankly at the space that separates us.

I had a new client almost die during a "simple" out-patient procedure during the week of April 15th, which prompted a phone call to my office regarding estate planning documents that had not yet been updated. The problem was compounded when I looked at the woman's old documents and realized that the former attorney had botched several of the documents and it would not be a simple operation to undo their mistakes. Not to mention all the questions rolling in from the CPAs that suddenly needed all this additional data to finalize Returns. (CPAs can be just as bad as the rest of the population in putting off the preparation of Returns, it seems.)

I am officially on a diet after seeing my doctor and realizing that my weight has gotten a bit out of control. I have not been able to establish a standard gym routine since my surgery, but have decided to try and switch back to going in the evenings, as my body did not seem willing to cooperate with my desire of waking up at 5AM every day. I still would like to try and convince my body one more time, but I am not going to try and push my luck for a little while. Overall, I do not think I am really on a diet so much as reverting to what worked for me for the past decade - consistent exercise and a sensible intake of food. Sounds simple when you say it that way, right?

I have still been reading all the blogs I normally read. I have even added a new one to the mix, and I really need to update the list of blogs that I read on here. So many folks I used to read are no longer around or have moved, and some of the newer ones are not even mentioned. I will work on this in the coming days. I will also work on just plain writing more about something. Anything has go to be better than this deafening silence that seems to be occurring here. I think what often happens, for me at least, is you stop writing for a little while and you start to forget how you ever came up with topics to write about to begin with. It used to seem that you would just be out somewhere and you would think, "Oh, I am so totally going to blog this." However, now I go out and I never have those moments. Even when I saw the Paramount Church, it didn't leap out at me as something that I just needed to write about. Clearly, something has to be done about this.

Glory Days

The decision has been made and now my life can return to its normal boring routine. Thank goodness. I do not think I do well with big decisions like that. I end up losing sleep and worrying. Instead of getting lots of sleep and going to the gym. Not exactly my idea of a good time. In the end, I still do not know if I made the right decision, but I made the best decision I could at the time, based upon all the information I had. I am quite proud to say, however, that because of my decision, I will still be able to go to Chicago, Memphis, and Costa Rica this year, and that is almost priceless to me.

Seeing that I now had free time, I was goaded into joining Face Book. I do not know who thought this was a good idea. I hate Face Book almost as much as I hate My Space. I consider it a horribly designed site, but a few of my friends had joined and they all wanted me to join as well. I still do not know why. What the hell ever happened to emails and blogs? What is the attraction of these horribly designed personal pages on which we can all "keep in-touch". I never knew I required such a thing, but apparently I do.

It was through joining Face Book and adding friends from my high school years that I recalled how little I really enjoyed those years. Granted, there were some good times, with water gun fights and such, but a lot of it was just an excruciating experience. And while I feel that in many ways my parents lied to me and we never really get away from the high school mentality, with the cliques, the gossip, the jocks and the prom queens, we do get to move onto larger fish bowls. I still remember being accused and convicted over random stuff that I never did. For example, one of my friends stopped speaking to me because I was going through her locker, which would have been really solid grounds, I think, if I had ever actually done so. I think I even once experienced a breakup with a girl that I never dated.

To an extent, things were a little simpler. I had more time to do the things I loved and hang out with my friends. It seems the older that I get, the harder it is to make and keep friends. So many things seem to intersect into people's lives and they suddenly have new priorities and routines and you do not always continue to fit in them. They may get married and/or have children. They suddenly have to work more and have extra-curricular obligations for that new fundraising committee that is sure to help advance their career. This is not to say that I do not have friends. I still even have a few friends from high school, but everyone is so busy and scattered. One of my psychologists thought it would be cool if I mapped them all out, as they are all in so many different places.

I know that I somehow had a lot of good times in high school, but goodness, I do not think I would ever want to do it again. College is a completely different tale, however.

Overflow

Bloggers write a lot. That is what I have determined after my exhaustive study and analysis, which has mostly consisted of me opening my rss reader every day and seeing far too many unread posts. The odd part is so many of the bloggers I used to read when I started blogging a few years ago, no longer seem to be in the game anymore. Yet, I still have all these unread posts, which means I am either reading more bloggers now or the remaining people really need another hobby.

Life for me has been busy and stressful the last few weeks. I think it should settle down soon, but until it does, I exist in varying stages of stress. The odd part is that most of the things I am stressed about are actually good things - opportunities and such, but how do I know if they are good opportunities or the right choice. It is questions like this that make me sleepless at night and no one seems to have any answers. They may start out thinking that they do but after talking to me for a few minutes they shake their heads, toss up their hands and say, "Good luck with that." I cannot say that I blame them. I would do the same thing, except I happen to be in the unfortunate position of having to make the ultimate decision. Somehow, I think people feel I should be happier about my current position.

Work has been good. Two of our paralegals, though, have cancer. It is a scary thing. I watched my mother go through it and the treatments years ago and now I get to watch some of the staff experience it. It seems like so many people get it. I feel like all of us will end up with it within another forty years, which really sort of sucks, when you think about it.

I have given up on the election for the next few months. My girlfriend is still passionate about it but I have sort of resigned myself to the fact the next president will just be stuck with a huge mess on his/her hands and they probably are not going to be able to fix it. Sure, the Federal Reserve can act in the wink of an eye - overnight even - and rescue a failing bank, but any relief for failing homeowners has to go through Congress and committee and be discussed, ad nauseum . I keep hearing about how these people knew what they were doing and that they were reckless and that they should not be rewarded for it - they should have to face the consequences. Meanwhile, we funnel billions of taxpayer dollars to the banks that all helped cause it.

I do not know how reckless these people were. I attended a lot of real estate closings with a lot of buyers, back when the market was booming. You always knew when you were with someone that really could not afford the loan they were about to get, but the broker had talked them into it. We would talk to the borrower about negative amortization and the loan interest reset date and the borrower would sometimes briefly have a slightly worried expression but the broker or someone else in the room would reassure them that they would just refinance before then - after all with all that built-up equity, the banks would be lining up to hand them money. We knew the crash was coming. We all watched the banks writing absolutely ridiculous loans, with the lenders and mortgage brokers making insane fees, and then the bottom fell out and everyone was surprised. I was in a meeting one day and got to watch an attorney blame a local paper for the collapse of the real estate market because it was just alarmist and did not understand the market.

Much of our society does not make sense to me when it comes to the financial markets. For example, the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities has generated a new report based upon information from the IRS. It says a few interesting things: 1) 2006 was the fourth straight year of significant income gains at the very top and very small gains everywhere else: from 2002-2006, the top 1% had average incomes rise by 44% or $335,0000. The bottom 90% had incomes rise by 3%, or $1000; 2) The share of the nation's income going to the top 1% hasn't been that high since just before the Great Depression; and, 3) Those in the very top income distribution--the top one-tenth of 1 percent--had enormous income gains rising 60%, or $1.9 million per household, since 2002. See also this blog.

It's Not You; It's I

It took me a long time to learn of the concept of speaking in "I terms" when having any sort of relational discussion. It took me even longer to learn how to apply it, but I think it has been one of the single greatest things I have ever utilized, leading to more productive and simplified discussions.

The concept, as I understand it and apply it is fairly simple. When entering any sort of discussion that may be heated or volatile, instead of saying "you [do or don't do this behavior that's really annoying me right now]," you think of a way of starting that sentence with an "I". Often times, I now find myself pausing when in some sort of heated discussion, trying to find a way that I can begin the sentence with an "I feel". Because really, just like when I was in therapy, it is not about them, it is about me and how the actions of another person are affecting me and why.

This approach, I have found does so many fantastic things that may not otherwise be achievable. First, it helps to lessen the other person's defense mechanisms and makes them more approachable on the subject because you are conveying to them how you feel, and if they care about you, that is going to illicit a better reaction than something more accusing in nature. Second, it actually helps frame the discussion for you and the other person. Why the hell are you really upset or annoyed - what sort of affect is that person's behavior having on you and is it even rational. Third, the discussion has a much higher probability of being productive and finding some sort of solution to make it not happen again. Fourth, it usually shortens the process.

Oftentimes, I found in my past relationships that there would be a huge explosive fight that would drag on for a bit and then that would usually resolve in one of two ways. Either there would be a reconciliation with a mildly more rational conversation or there would just be a reconciliation with nothing actually resolved other than the fight was over and we could go back to the way things were, which really only meant we would prolong the unhappiness because we were still nowhere closer to understanding one another or why the other was unhappy; all we knew was that they were unhappy.

Overall, this often means that you just end up fighting less frequently because you both begin to completely understand one another and yourselves that much better. You begin to be able to sort of gauge everything just a little more cleanly and it makes for a smoother relationship overall, which is not to say it will be a perfect relationship, or even the right relationship, but it certainly makes the entire process much more fulfilling and enjoyable, for everyone concerned.

My Absence

Where can I begin other than with the simple statement, "I love chocolate milk." No, that is not to invite any sexual innuendo or speculation. Last week, we went grocery shopping and there was a huge container (for you novices, that's one-half gallon) of chocolate milk, and I remembered that I had been thinking about buying chocolate milk for months now but never seemed to be able to find any fat free and hormone free chocolate milk. Yet, there it was, staring at me with its beguiling packaging, indicating the deliciousness that lay within. I repeat, no sexual innuendo intended. Later, I brought the milk home and poured myself a glass. The delicious velvety texture invited me to savor as much as I could, and me being weak, I nearly finished the glass in one drought. The versatility of this brown liquid concoction of awesome was fully revealed when it became apparent that it even tasted good with vodka because of course that's the test of any real liquid - whether it makes liquor more palatable.

And so, my friends, that's how I invented the light bulb. Wait, no that's not right. Where was I? Ah yes, my absence.

Well, the short answer is I ran out of things to write. I kept worrying about what everyone else might want to read or find interesting that I was paralyzed and could not write anything. Even when my very overweight male neighbor was seen in black dress with stockings and heels, I simply couldn't bring myself to type the words out. Oh, sure, people might find this anecdote interesting, but what's a few lines. I need more. I need something of substance. I need something special. I was also really busy and often very tired, as a result of my insomnia that seems to come and go as it pleases.

Then I woke up one morning and was over it. Partially thanks to antihistamines forcing me to sleep at least seven hours every night. Thank you modern medicine. Not to mention the healing powers of fat free chocolate milk. One could almost argue that it should be a crime for something to taste that good and not be illegal, but that someone would not be me. I am too busy arguing for other things and getting paid for it. Plus, I have better thing to talk about here than chocolate milk. I mean who would go and write a post about chocolate milk? Seriously. Oh, really? Oh. Well, never mind then.

Fumbling for a Topic

I have been at a bit of a loss as to what to write. I have also lacked the time to do so. I do not feel as guilty for not writing as much anymore, though, as I feel so few people still read my blog. That could be false. I do not really check my statistics, but I assume fewer people are reading what I have to say, as I seem to have less things to say.

I thought about saying something regarding politics, but I really have nothing to say. Unlike most people, I do not seem to like anyone running for office. As near as I can calculate things, pretty much anyone that gets into office will have done so by raising millions and millions of dollars, and I assume that lots of that money will have come from special interest groups, to whom the candidate will be beholden, and nothing will really change. All that might change is we will, hopefully, have a more articulate president. However, I still do not feel I will be adequately represented. How can someone that makes over $500,000.00 a year really know what is important to me? I just do not feel they will. There are lots of exciting sound bytes, though. I keep hearing about "change" and "experience". So, I assume we are to anticipate experiencing a change, but I have not been listening too closely.

I could talk about my trips. A few weeks ago, I spent the weekend in a house built on stilts in the middle of the ocean. There's something you don't do everyday. It was really cool to be able to wake up every morning, look out of whichever window you happened to pick and see ocean, and it made experiencing sunrises and sunsets much easier. It also made it easier to relax because really, what the hell else are you going to do. The night before we left, a few of the folks there were cleaning some fish they had just caught and out came the bull sharks, and there went the fishermen - all trying to hook themselves a shark. Unfortunately, no one was really equipped to take down a shark, but I have a feeling that in the coming months, I am going to hear a story about how one of the folks there caught a shark and now I have to come help them eat it.

This past weekend, we went hiking. Well, in Florida one does not really go hiking so much as off-road walking. However, we do have mosquitoes and alligators that keep you on your toes. For example, yesterday we saw six - that's right, I said six - alligators. One idiot was crazy enough to go walking up to one of the 'gators so that he could get a better picture. This must be why God made alligators afraid of humans - we are freaking crazy. We had enough foresight to forgo the canoing adventure, as it looked like it might rain and just as we departed, the skies opened up and released a deluge. We were left with no choice but to all retreat home, and consume an entire pork shoulder. I think my life may be less complete without various pork products.

I really have not been writing here as much as I would like. Much of it has to do with time constraints. However, another part of it is not knowing what to write. I often find myself struggling to find a good topic, or something I find interesting enough to say something about. Perhaps I should create a suggestion box.

Parents Just Don't Understand

One of the issues that often arises in probate and trust administration is that the parents frequently underestimate the ability of their children to fight like it's a holy war. They also do not effectively understand the nature of their assets or what the implications of some of their decisions during life are. For example, I once administered an estate where the single mother died in a car accident at the age of twenty-six. She had made a beneficiary designation during her life with respect to some life insurance she had through her job. In her infinite wisdom, she had designated her co-worker - not her six year old daughter or her sister or father, the people that were going to end up stepping in and actually raising the daughter but a female co-worker. This wouldn't have been such an issue but the co-worker was not the brightest bulb and when the insurance company refused to pay, she lacked the requisite resources and capacity to pursue them and try and collect. The decedent had not understood the implications of making this designation. She had expected that the co-worker would use this money for her daughter's benefit and the co-worker seemed to understand this, as well. However, it did not work out that way, and even if the insurance company had paid, there would have been nothing to force the co-worker to do so.

An estate that I am currently administering is equally interesting. The mother believed that she had almost half of a million dollars that she could dispose of under her Will. Post-death, we learned that actually, her four hundred thousand dollar account was a payable on death account, to her three children. Suddenly, we had an insolvent estate, with not enough money to go around for all the creditors that she had, and we could no longer satisfy the specific bequest she had left for her old and now blind mother. We had an additional problem, the person she wanted to be her personal representative, her son, who had been handing all her financial affairs for her prior to her death, couldn't serve as personal representative, as he was once convicted of a felony. (For those of you playing at home, a DUI or DWI is often a felony.) One more problem for the trifecta, the three children do not communicate in any sort of way that one might characterize as healthy.

Part of the problem when you are drafting an estate plan for someone is you are limited in your knowledge. You often do not know all of the details about the client's children. If you are made aware of the potential relational issues that are sure to arise, it can still be a nightmare to plan around them, however, at least you can plan for them. You also do not know what the person did outside your office that may affect the ultimate disposition of their assets. For example, you do not know if the client has made an account payable on death to someone, like a former spouse. Oftentimes, the client is not even aware of the implications of this, or the fact that these types of designations for insurance policies, retirement accounts, and other various accounts, control.

It gets even better when the daughter, acting as personal representative, decides she needs to hold everything up because she thinks her brother absconded with over eighty thousand dollars of mom's money and you are stuck spending weeks on the phone with the bank, trying to get them to rush statements to you because she does not want the account closed until she has looked. However, you are not allowed to tell any of the other beneficiaries (who are waiting for their money) this information, as it's attorney-client privilege, and you technically represent the daughter. What the daughter fails to realize is that you still have to disclose some financial information to the other beneficiaries when they ask you, and that if you do not, they will end up getting their own attorneys and commence litigation and watch that four hundred thousand dollars evaporate in a matter of months.

It would be more funny if these types of things were not common occurrences. It is almost an estate planner's standard day to encounter heirs that just do not get along. For while the picture perfect families seem to exist on television. They do not appear to exist in our offices, and people need to plan with this in mind.

Tarnish

"Where have you been?"

He could tell from the sound of her voice and the frenzied look upon her face that he was not going to be able to simply slide off his shoes and climb into bed, which was just about the only thing he wanted to do at this point. There would now have to be explanations and discussions. He would have to reassure her and comfort her, and relive the details and he was simply not looking forward to it. He had been dreading it the entire way home, and had even considered spending the night in a hotel. He had only decided to come home because he figured sooner or later, he would have to get it over with. He would have to explain. She was never going to understand.

"Look, Susan. Can't we just say that I am a busy man? Sometimes, I just have to leave at a moment's notice."

"But we were in the middle of making love. You don't just get up and run out the door in the middle of that."

"I sensed that I had to go. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, and who would understand? Maybe this Lois woman? Hmmm? Well, I'm not Lois and I am tired of being compared to her. Is that who you went to see? Is it?"

He was tired of the accusations. He could not help who he was or the call of duty he felt compelled with every waking moment of every day. He was not like ordinary men and it was a struggle for him to try and keep his relationship together while still trying to fulfill this duty he felt the need to fulfill. He knew his psychologist would have something interesting to say. Probably along the lines of, "Why do you feel the need to save everyone?" or "Perhaps you should focus on yourself and your needs," but how could he do that when the forces of evil were out there waiting to pounce upon the land and topple the bastions of freedom in the world. How could he possibly compare his relationship to such high stakes things. Lois would have understood. Then again, maybe she wouldn't. After all, hadn't she left him too - right at the alter, saying, "I just can't do this," as the sound of bullets filled the air. They wouldn't even let him have a moment's peace on his own wedding day. Just thinking of it made his blood boil.

"I did not go to see Lois. I don't understand why you always think I'm going to see her. Did you think my life was going to change when we started dating? That the world was going to somehow need me less?"

"I do not understand why you always seem to feel all of these people need you. I am not looking for someone that I have to share with the "world,'" her fingers encircling the word. "I want a husband; I want someone I can share my life with."

And there it was, that sound of exhaustion and resignation in her voice. He did not feel that he could comfort her. What was he to do? Tell her the whole truth? He could not risk that? The ride was over - once again faster than a speeding bullet. How could he find the balance that he so desperately searched for in all of this. He did not want to say goodbye to Susan, but he did not want the world to fall into the clutches of evil either. Maybe J'onn would be able to help. He often seemed insightful on these matters, which was odd given his heritage. He struggled to find the words for her; something to tied her over until he could arrive at something better. "Always trying to save everyone - patching up everything but never truly healing," the words of wisdom he paid to hear every week.

"Please. Don't leave. I will try to be better. We'll work on it."

Reluctance appeared in her face.

Swamped

Every night, I have been coming home thinking, "I wish I had written something in my blog today." Heck, I often wish I had written anything that day, other than some legal document. I always wish I had more time to read and write for pleasure, but it never seems to materialize. I think it has to do with outside distractions and television.

This past weekend, my girlfriend and I went camping. It was a lot of fun, even if it did completely pour and get us and our tent totally drenched on Sunday morning. We read and we talked, toasting marshmallows and questioning why in the world we were trying to build a roaring fire out of hardwood. I suppose it was because that was the wood that they were selling. We even went kayaking, dodged alligators and saw several osprey. It was really so much fun and there seemed to be so much time.

I was suddenly able to take an hour-long nap in the middle of the day. Granted, I had heat stroke and awoke with the sensation that I was about to burn alive in the sweltering inferno that did not exist. However, even after it subsided, I still had plenty of time to do other things, including getting incredibly overpriced kite string. (I already happen to own these really nice fabric kites, but have not been able to fly them for a few years, as I no longer had any good kite string.) I even had time to read. It was fantastic.

With the writers on strike, I have been trying to make a concerted effort to read more. Nothing on TV? Let's see what this person has to say, as I slide out my current novel of choice. Granted, I could be blogging, fleshing out a couple of the characters I have recently conceived or writing something introspective and thoughtful, but I somehow do not have the time. (When I say "conceived" it means I thought about it for about 30 seconds and said, "Wow, that's cool. I should write that" because that, my friends, is how I conceptualize my characters.)

I arrived home at 7:30 Tuesday night, ate dinner and wanted to fall asleep, awaking before 5:00 the next morning to go to the gym and try to keep my lazy butt motivated. Where did the time go and why can I not find the time to organize and clean my apartment? I feel like I should be able to find the time to do these things. I feel like there should somehow be more time or less dust, or both. I do not know how those TV families do it. I think I would need someone to clean and iron my abode every day.

Vista Sucks

When I got my new laptop, I had no choice but to get it with Windows Vista. While I know some laptops are still available with Windows XP, mine was not and there was not a lot I could do about it. Begrudgingly, I played the Bill Gates game and got my shiny new laptop.

Upon receiving the laptop, I immediately tried to install XP Professional, but quickly realized that it did not have all of the drivers my machine needed and was really just going to be more of a hassle than I wanted. I decided I needed to try to learn to love this new operating system of mine, and there were some things that Vista did better thanXP ever had. For example, my startup time was about 30 seconds and it could go to sleep and wake up almost as well as a Mac. However, its constant warning messages and odd idiosyncrasies were driving me up a wall. After I figured out how to deactivate the bulk of them, I was greeted with the now familiar warning I get every time I start my system, alerting me to the fact that my system is not fully protected. Moreover, the Internet security suite that shipped with my system was not actually compatible with Vista. Yay, for me.

After finally getting Vista to run sort of the way I wanted, and getting the security suite removed, I started finding all the other programs it was not compatible with, including my journal program. Imagine my horror and misery when I found out the program that I was assured would continue to work with Vista no longer worked, and the more I looked, the more problems I had. Suddenly,iTunes was having issues and they were not going away. Now I had programs, and hardware related to those programs that would not work correctly. Bill Gates was ruining my life, piece by piece.

This weekend, I had to replace my flash based mp3 player. The one I used to take to the gym had decided to only turn on when it felt like it, and even once it had turned on, could turn off at any moment, without provocation. I tried negotiating with it. I tried multiple new batteries, but nothing was going to convince it. It was done. So, I went and bought a Sansa Clip. It was really a great little player, about the size of the newer Apple Shuffles but with FM radio and twice the amount of memory, for a much smaller price. Brilliant! Well, it certainly was perfect until I hooked it up to my computer and Vista said, "What the hell is this?"

I called Sandisk and explained the problem to the tech support guy. At first, he tried to tell me that it was just me, until I pointed out that other users on the Sandisk support forums were having my exact same problem. At this point, he confessed that some users did experience this problem because some versions of Vista had shipped with the required drivers and others had not. It seemed to him that mine had not, and what I would need to do is go to this Microsoft Web page and request that Microsoft send me a Hotfix (patch). This was awesome. I could not just go somewhere and download the driver I needed to run my new hardware, I needed to ask the Microsoft gods and hope that they heard my plea.

A few hours later, Microsoft emailed me back stating that they could not find the Hotfix I was looking for and telling me to call them, which I promptly did. The operator could not figure out how I had got this number and was dumbfounded at the idea that someone at Microsoft had told me to call it. Finally, he decided my story was too crazy to be a lie and connected me with technical support. I, once again, explained my issue, in excruciating detail, to the tech support dude (who sounded quite Indian). He was completely baffled as to why I was calling him. You could sense that he was hoping to be able to read to me from a script and "solve" my technical problems. This fell completely outside of the parameters to which he had grown accustomed. However, he made his best efforts, asking me if I was using Windows Vista, and that's where things went downhill.

I replied that I was using Vista and that it was the worst operating system ever. To which he tried to tell me it was an excellent operating system and I lost it. I pointed out every glaring problem with the operating system. I noted how many people and organizations were still unwilling to purchase it and how even Microsoft is starting to promote its next operating system, seemingly trying to brush Vista aside, and say, "Look at this really cool new thing that might actually work in a way you will like." I even pointed out the fact that the new Service Pack release forXP is supposed to add most of the best features of Vista to XP , making it almost completely pointless for anyone to upgrade, at all. It was right around this point that he decided he needed his supervisor, as I clearly knew too much.

The supervisor (another person sounding Indian, dots not feathers) and I traced the same path regarding the horror that is Vista and all the problems I have had with it. However, as we came back to focusing on my problem of the day, she remained completely bewildered as to how I had even gotten transferred to her department and insisted that I needed to provide her with theHotfix ID number. After I asked her for the third time where I was supposed to find such a thing, she decided I needed to call Sandisk back, as obviously Sandisk knows better than Microsoft how to patch Vista.

It was at this point that I took my new Sansa Clip, walked it straight back to Best Buy and spent $20 extra to get a new Shuffle. Sure, it has half the memory and no FM tuner, but it works and keeps me from having to deal with Microsoft, and you simply cannot put a price tag on that. Besides, if I decide to go Mac in the coming months, it will still work with my new system.

Harder To Breathe

Several years ago, a doctor started me on an asthma medication called Advair. You may have seen the commercials for it. The medicine comes in a purple discus and actually contains two different medications. Its goal is to prevent you from having asthma attacks at all so that you do not have to use your fast acting inhaler and scar your lungs. Excellent things to strive for in my opinion. However, my insurance company decided to re-categorize Advair as a much higher tier prescription medication. Suddenly, I was spending much more on the product. A representative there recommended that I switch to the generic form of both medications in the Advair, which saved me a lot of money, but was quite a hassle. So, I just stopped taking my medicine entirely. Thank you, United Health Care.

After about a week of not taking the medicine, however, I seemed to actually be sleeping better. No, I was no Rip Van Winkle and I still sometimes had trouble making it past seven or eight hours, but I really was sleeping seven or eight hours. This was fantastic. I looked online and found that a possible side effect of the medicines in Advair is trouble sleeping. Well, guess what, that possible side effect page was written for me. It even said the medicine could worsen your asthma attacks and cause death. That was a little scary.

I now seem to be sleeping pretty well. Not all the time, but on a much more frequent basis. My body is even able to return to sleep sometimes after it is awoken. I am in complete awe of this crazy new thing called sleep. However, my lungs are a little less than happy. Sure, I have not had any sever asthma attacks and nothing bad enough to force me to use the fast acting inhaler (which I do not have), but I have had bouts of shortness of breathe and occasionally my girlfriend will look at me with those questioning eyes that say, "You aren't really going to go run a mile now are you?"

Now I am faced with the ultimate question, would I rather breathe or sleep. Somehow, I feel the latter will prevail, as I am just too tired to think about these difficult questions.

Twelve Days of Christmas

This year, I feel like Christmas is like the holiday that will just never end. It seems every time I turn around, I still need to get a gift for someone. Most of this is resulting from the fact that my best friend and my girlfriend both have birthdays that fall within weeks of the Christmas holiday and also by the fact that some of my friends are impossible to shop for and the older they get, the more restrictions are in place.

"Maybe I'll get you a bottle of wine."

"I am not allowed to really drink very much anymore."

"Maybe some good food."

"Yeah, not allowed to really eat very much anymore either. I will be able to again after all this medical stuff is over, but for now, I really have a bland and limited sort of diet."

"Dude, you suck."

"Yeah, I know."

One of my friends is a Jehovah's Witness and all I can think is that she gets off so light, never having to worry about picking out gifts for all her family and closest friends. Great gobbly googly. However, I feel like if I did not have the holidays to remind me to get people gifts, I would forget and then people would say, "He never gets me anything."

However, the more I shop and the more my friends and I shop for one another, the more I get confused as to the point. My friends and I often ask one another how much we are going to spend on the other person. After all, we "need" to get the other person something comparable in value. One of my friends had a guy buy her a $50 item and she had only planned on giving him something small. An extended conversation between us ensued. More and more, I am failing to see the point of spending a lot of money on someone if all they are going to do is spend a similar sum on you. Would it not have been easier if we had gotten each other cards and said, "Go buy yourself something nice."?

Some will say that is not very thoughtful, but I feel like it's plenty thoughtful. I mean, you did pick out the card, right? And what's the difference between that and a gift card? I have been using my gift cards to buy gifts for other people. At first, my friends saw this as flawed - "Those cards are for you". Yes, I know. I am using them so that I do not have to spend my own money - that is using them for me. It is almost like a gift of cash, except not as good as cash because you actually have to use it at the store that the card is for. If you ask me, cash is plenty thoughtful. However, if my friend gives me $50 and I give them $50, what have we really achieved? Same thing, for me, when it comes to gifts. If my friend gets me $200 worth of gifts and I get that friend $200 worth of gifts, what have we really achieved, other than spending each other's money - in a more indirect way.

At the end of the day, I think it should be the thought that matters the most, which is why a card and maybe a small token should be sufficient for almost everyone concerned because this attempt to match everyone with equally priced gifts is giving me an enormous headache.

I can see gift giving for a couple people in your life, but all of them just seems excessive and a recycling of currency. Getting gifts for children makes sense, as they are not going to get gifts of an equal value for you, and because how else are they going to get that really cool overpriced toy. And, of course, with your significant other and maybe a friend or two, you may be able to pick out something sweet and thoughtful, but when all you are doing is telling the person what you want and having them go buy it for you so that you can go buy them a similarly priced object, what is the point.

My New Food Processor

So, after wanting a food processor for well over a year, but always not being completely certain where I would find room for one or which one I wanted, my best friend chose the holiday season to remove all of the guess work and bought me this really amazing looking one made by Kitchen Aid. It has so many attachments, and I do not even know where to begin in figuring out what to do with them all or how to exactly do it. I think the entire thing struck me as overwhelming, from the day I received it and unpacked it, washing all of its individual parts, until the day I started trying to make recipes calling for the use of one. I still have not found the recipe that explains to me how to chop with it. Can I chop multiple things at once? Do I chop only a little at a time? How does it avoid not chopping some things too much? It also has a slicer. How the hell is that supposed to work? And a dough maker attachment - that seems more intuitive.

So, on Christmas morning, after I had finished making a roasted garlic, balsamic vinegar sauce to cover my main dish, I was trying to wash the processor, and forgot the rule I had heard at least a few times before on The Food Network - remove the blade. Gravity being what it is, the blade fell from the unit and it appeared as though it was going to plummet into the garbage disposal. Instantly, I reacted the way I always do when I see something headed towards the garbage disposal, I moved to grab it and as I reached out and succeeded in snatching it from, what I mistakenly perceived as, its doom, it gently sliced into my middle finger on each hand, producing a lovely flow of red - how festive. If only I had had green band aides.

I think I have finally been able to stop the bleeding, however. So long as I can keep my fingers from impacting with hard objects. It seems every time I am injured, I become exceedingly aware of how much I really do seem to use that thing I never noticed. For example, when I had shoulder surgery, I never knew just how many times one uses their shoulder in the course of a day until I started trying to function normally again. And now I sit at my keyboard, typing away with two fingers, and you can pretty much forget about handwriting anything. However, the holiday was still a lot of fun for me, and once I heal, I'll begin my continued pursuit of mastering my new food processor.

As an aside, I know a few of my recent posts seem to indicate physical injuries in the kitchen. Fear not, my loyal readers (all six of you); each injury is a lesson for me of what not to do, and so long as I do not permanently lose the use of a digit, I try to look on the bright side and move on, a little wiser, if a little bloodier.

I Don't Understand

I wanted to write, but do not have very much to say. I got my first round of immunizations for my trip to Costa Rica next year. Just two more rounds, and I'll be ready, immunologically speaking. The woman that gave me my shots was really nice and seemed to know everything about diseases and which shots and medications I needed, and where to get a free, small supply of Cipro and everything else one could want when planning a trip to a foreign country where you could get Malaria and die.

Instead of continuing to bore you, however, I leave you with this small wisp of fiction that I wrote without thinking.

"I don't understand," she said, as her eyes welled up with sadness.

He had seen this look before, too many times, and knew the tears were about to fall. He hated the tears - they were the worst part. He would have done almost anything to keep them from falling. Instead, all he did was stare coolly at her, attempting to affect some sympathy and understanding in his eyes, but it was the end of the day and they were tired. He silently hoped she would hold it together just a little.

"I am really sorry to have to deliver the news, ma'am, but your husband is dead," his stare slightly softened. Usually, about now the reality would start sinking in. He really wished his partner was there, she was so much better at delivering news like this. Figures she had to be out sick today. He saw two small children contained in the picture over the woman's shoulder. They were probably at some after-school event, completely unaware at what news they were about to uncover when they came home. Something was burning in the kitchen.

"He was shot?"

"Yes, ma'am. It looks like he was not the intended target. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two other people were shot with him. We believe it was a gang related shooting, but the investigation is still pending." Poor bastard was probably out trying to do some good. His fingerprints had been listed in the police files database, having been a social worker years ago. He had since gone into private practice working with the down-trodden. Perhaps trying to heal a partially fractured soul, after years of screwing the little guy in the big corporate rat race. No way to know, just now. It may even end up that he was an intended target. One thing was clear, the victim should have just stayed home with his lovely wife and enjoyed a quiet fall day in bed with the missus. What the hell was he doing in that part of town? He should have known better.

He began cautiously questioning her, gently probing for details, "Any idea why your husband was out that way; Did he have any enemies", etc. It was probably just going to end up being another case filed away as collateral damage, but he had to go through the motions. After twenty years on the job, the one thing Grady had learned was that routine was your friend.