Can I ask you a personal question?

I'm guessing Maxim or Men's Health recently ran an article on how to start a conversation with a hot girl on a dating site and bullet one is:  "Ask if you can ask her a personal question."

Why do I think this? Because in the past four days I have received at least a dozen of these exact messages.

Here's my universal answer: 

No! You don't personally know me so there is no way you could ask me a personal question. Even if I agreed to answer said question, you don't know my person. 

For the record, "Are you looking to make a connection and develop a real relationship or just looking for a casual fling?" is NOT a "personal" question. It's just a question, and a bad one at that. Is, "I just want to get bent over a railing and banged till my brain bleeds," a "personal" answer?

I get it, draw her in by asking her about herself and then she'll think you care about what she thinks, or that she thinks at all. We know your game, guys. We know you just want to get laid and you couldn't care less about our thoughts and dreams.

Truth: I don't care if you think either! If I start to care, well, then you've got the golden ticket. Until then, relax. Stop trying to creep into my head and just tell me I'm pretty.

Size matters.

I've never considered myself to be much of a "size queen." Until today, that is. Men assume women think bigger is better and I've spent years trying to convince them otherwise. Then today, I realized that in some circumstances, too small really can be a deal breaker. 

No, I am not talking about your "equipment." I'm talking about your office supplies. 

This morning I went through another round in the ring with my mini handheld stapler. Who'd-a-thought such a minor piece of office essentials could cause me so much grief! If you've ever tried to staple discovery responses, you know what I mean. If not... You'll just have to take my word for it. I knew there were bigger, better staplers out there, but because I had never had the opportunity to experience one, I didn't realize what I was missing. To my surprise, my suite-mate allowed me access to his 60-page stapler.  That's right - 60 pages! It was euphoric. I've been ruined for all other handheld staplers. 

So, the moral of this story is: maybe bigger IS better? I guess you just have to try it to find out. 

Tomorrow, I'm gonna test the commercial copier. I'm getting chills just thinking about it. 

"Prenup" is not a dirty word

I came across a blog today, written by a lay person (non lawyer), describing “Why Prenups Are Bad.” I understand this woman is happily married with three young adult children, and while I am happy for her, I was not amused at her assumptions. What is more disturbing, however, is that I assume her opinion is not uncommon. She explained that prenuptial agreements show a lack of trust in a partner, a lack of commitment to the relationship, a plan for the end, and stated that with a prenuptial agreement, the chances of success for the marriage are limited. I could not disagree more.

I recommend any adult with a business, real property, children, and pretty much anyone over thirty should execute a prenuptial agreement before deciding to get married. Romance aside, marriage is a contractual agreement.  It is an agreement to partner your life with another person. To share in real property, income, possible offspring, etc. This contract, however, has no set terms.  “Till Death do us Part” will not hold up in court, nor should it.

A prenuptial agreement sets out the terms of the marriage and any possible termination of the partnership. It allows both parties to disclose and discuss their finances, expectations and assets up front. I do not see how this can be seen as a bad idea. It would benefit all pre-marital couples to have this conversation. It would also make sense to, at this time, when everything is on the table and you are both on good terms, to determine what should happen if the relationship were to expire prematurely.  Obviously, we all hope this is not the outcome, but it cannot hurt to be prepared. The alternate option is to “wait and see” and hope that if things go south you can amicably divide and negotiate, which is rare. Not only does a prenup make the termination less painful, it also makes it less expensive for the family, as well as the individuals.

As for the rational described in the blog, I have to say it seems to be a very archaic manner of thinking. Divorce is not the end of the world and people make the decision to end relationships all the time. Forever is commitment everyone cannot make. I believe prenups create more trust, a stronger bond, and enhance the chance of the marriage excelling.

A prenuptial agreement is not a plan for divorce. It is a plan to protect yourself, your future spouse, your future children and your assets. Ignoring the fact that relationships end is not the answer.  Planning for the worst is the best way to ensure the best in any circumstance.

Deadbeat Dad Disasters

It's no secret that I have no sympathy for deadbeat dads (DBDs). My momma depended on those child support payments and my dad took pride in his estranged responsibilities. However, I recently rep'd a DBD. I know, I know, why Disney??? Well, let's just say I did it for a friend. And money. Disney's gotta eat too...

This particular DBD is far from the worst-of-the-worst. He has, in fact, paid a substantial amount of support since his divorce was final, but the past couple of years he has significantly slacked. Significant = $75,000. Don't worry, no one is starving and these kids are not suffering, but I appreciate the frustration of the Ex.

As expected, his Ex filed for Contempt (2nd time) for his failure to produce the funds. Contempt is a Divorce Lawyers (DL) nightmare. Contempt cases are quasi-criminal, which means, the defendant can get locked up. Hauled off. Escorted to the big house. I do not practice criminal law for a very good reason - I DO NOT want to be responsible for another person's freedom. I'm a stress ball au natural so the additional pressure is not good for my soul, or my blood pressure. Unfortunately, I was already in too deep to pawn him off on a more willing DL so I handled it like a boss. Boss = not sleeping for days, studying similar hearing transcripts and memorizing any possible statute or case law that may be in any way referenced. And a whole lot of Diet Coke.

So D-day comes, my perfect pantsuit freshly pressed and I looked like a million bucks. I was way too early, because it's not like I slept anyway, and then we sat. We sat for 7 hours. We were the very last case heard. FYI, I'm usually in and out in less than 2 hours, so this was rough. I spent those hours consoling my client, reviewing my notes, and convincing myself that I had a really good case. For you new comers, I am extremely susceptible to myself.

So, finally, we are called. First, the judge called us [me and my less-daper opposing counsel (OPC)] into chambers. Chambers are cool and make you feel super important, until you realize you're about to lose. Then chambers are the third level of hell because your client isn't even there to hear the judge explain why she already hates him. Okay, fine, she didn't say "hate" but trust that I could see it in her eyes.

In a nutshell, it was downhill from there. All of my well-rehearsed-in-my-bathroom-mirror arguments were worthless when I was stopped by the hand and shushed like a preschooler. She, the judge, wanted him locked up. That's right... big house. Let me clearly state that my client would not fare well in that environment. I was terrified. Then we all exited hell and returned to our stage. Luckily, judge decided on other penalties for the failure to support and a stern warning that next time, he'd be in the cage. When I say "stern" I mean "mean." I'm pretty sure he cried. I know I almost did. I could feel my olive skin turning beet red and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Defeat. That's all I felt. I left the Courthouse feeling the emotional equivalence to the loser in the Vegas boxing ring. It sucked.

Bright side (cause there always is one): it can never be that bad again. I mean... it just can't. I have tasted defeat and it was bitter. I'd rather eat cilantro and I f*$#ing HATE cilantro. Next time I will refuse the DBD, or tell him to just abide by the order. For goodness sake people, if there's one rule you should always follow, it's the one made by the person with the power to take away your freedom.

Facelift

I appreciate all my faithful readers and hope you all enjoyed witnessing my fall back into the single life. Unfortunately, I'm bored now. My dating life just isn't all that exciting and the exciting parts I can't really discuss because other involved parties may be reading... My work life, well, that's taken on a whole new persona, so Disney has to roll with the tide. I hope ya'll are still thoroughly entertained.

Disclaimer: If you are contemplating marriage or contemplating divorce or contemplating any major life change, please do not use this blog as reference material. For actual reference material, shoot me an email and I'll direct you to a proper source. If you use this site in making those decisions even after I have warned you against it, just don't tell anyone.

Thanks! And enjoyyyy!

Is There Whiskey in the Water?

Dating can be an extremely painful/scary/sad experience for an individual but it will always be pure entertainment for your friends. Disney, as the namesake suggests, lives to entertain. Therefore, I share some of my most... odd Messages with a couple close friends for a good laugh. Well, that's what I say anyway. Really I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing to attract all the crazies in Los Angeles (and many other areas).

Recently the inbox of my fav online dating site went wild and I was averaging an obscene amount of messages each day. Most were not so appealing so I feared I have accidentally uploaded a raunchy pic from my secret vault app! But all is well, and those are still safely stored away.

Of roughly 10 suitors, maybe one will be worthy of a reply, or maybe, possibly coffee. God, I'm so sick of coffee.

Mommy and Me

I started this year vowing to immerse myself in positivity. To say my vow has been tested is an understatement. Granted, this has been a year of huge achievement for me, it has also been a year of great loss; and now I'm losing again. I've never heard the words, "six months to live," outside of a the big screen and I have to believe there's a more sensitive way to state the same point.

Although I'm sad to lose another loved one I'm happy that, like my grandmothers, he has also lived a fulfilling happy life. He's content with the situation and handling the news well. My mother, on the other hand, is preparing to bury her husband, only a few months after burying her mother. For her, my heart weeps.

Someone recently told me they admired my strength. It's no secret I don't take compliments well so I instantly questioned the sentiment. The only rational explanation is that I'm not strong, I'm still learning, and I have the greatest possible teacher.

My mother has every reason to lock herself in her room with a gallon of chardonnay.  No one should lose a partner while they're still mourning a parent.  But she can't, and she won't, hide from the world.  She'll stand by her husband's side and smile whenever he needs it.  She'll keep his adult children and ex-wife updated on his condition and learn to use FaceTime so he can see them all as much as possible. She'll never cry... at least not in front of anyone. She'll make all arrangements according to his specifications and she'll continue to tell me she's "fine," even though she knows I know she's not. She's hanging by a thread but I know that thread won't break.

My mother is strong. She is the strongest women I've ever known. No matter what life throws in her direction she takes the hit and continues to play. No, she hasn't always been the best mother or the best wife or the best friend, but she has been the best example of what a strong woman is for this woman right here.

And there's my feeble attempt at finding the positive in yet another devastating loss.