Happy 2015!!!

It's a new year!  Happy new year to you and yours.

A lot happened in 2014.  Seva was born.  I spent three months at home on paternity leave.  I opened my own law practice.  Jeannie and I bought our first home.  Seva traveled internationally for the first time in her short life when we went to Colombia.

I'm thankful for all these changes, since they represent positive progress in my life: healthy challenges and proud milestones.  To begin a new year with the previous one being a good one is a great feeling.

So, what are my hopes and goals for 2015?

• first and foremost, life, for which I thank God always
• good health for my loved ones
• to love others, most especially my wife Jeannie and my beautiful daughter Seva
• to serve my clients to the best of my ability
• to grow my law practice steadily and successfully
• to enjoy our new home, from dinners with friends to hanging out in the back patio
• to read lots of interesting, diverse, entertaining, and thought-provoking books
• to travel internationally at least once
• to see and spend time with friends who I haven't seen in a while
• to forgive others of their trespasses against me and to forgive myself of past sins
• to serve well and develop leadership skills in my two board of director positions
• to develop my relationship with God, through prayer and attending church regularly
• finally, to become a better man, in every role and relationship in my life

If you can, please say a prayer for me to accomplish these hopes and goals in 2015.  For my part, I wish you the very best for good health, love, and success in 2015.  May God bless you and your loved ones!

My First Job, as a Paperboy

My first job was as a paperboy for the Patriot-News in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I lived in Harrisburg from 6th grade through 10th grade, so it was probably somewhere in the middle of that time.

I remember that there were parts of that job that I really liked.  I loved earning my own money for the first time in my life.  I enjoyed riding my bicycle around the neighborhood, seeing other people's houses, and getting to know some neighbors a little bit better.  I also really liked the pride that I felt in being our neighborhood's paperboy; there was just something special in claiming that title.

There were also parts of the job that I didn't like.  I've never been a morning person, and that time of my life was no exception.  I especially dreaded Sunday mornings, when I had to wake up super early to "stuff" the papers with the inserts I'd received the day before and then deliver these extra heavy Sunday newspapers to even more people than during the week.  I sometimes roped my sister Jessica into helping me out; I have no idea how I got her to do it or why she did it at all.  My dad, of course, was always there, especially since he's always been a morning person, pretty much the polar opposite in that regard to me.

I think I kept the position for about a year.  It's nice looking back now and saying that was my first job.  My daughter Seva will probably be amazed, since more and more now news is delivered to the masses through the internet and cable television.  The idea of her father being a paperboy will probably seem "so 20th century" to her.  I'm proud to say that my first job was as a paperboy.

2nd day of Daycare

About an hour ago, I dropped-off Seva for her second day of daycare.  When it was time for me to leave and say goodbye, she was so busy reaching for her new friend Carter's face that she didn't pay any attention to me leaving.  It was just as well that way.  I told the staff there that I'll stop in for a visit later today, maybe around lunchtime, to see how she's doing.

Seva seemed to do just fine on her first day yesterday.  I stopped in for a visit in the mid-afternoon.  She and almost all the other babies were napping, so I didn't get to see her interact with the other children.  The staff told me that Seva was a bit fussy for a good chunk of the morning, probably from being in a new environment with no one familiar.  She didn't eat quite as much as usual, but it wasn't anything that would cause any worry.  Overall she seemed to have a pretty good day.

Although my father-in-law, John, had been doing a pretty good job watching Seva for the past two months, Jeannie and I decided that the pros of sending her to daycare finally outweighed those of having her watched by John.  We really want her to socialize with other children her own age.  And we want her to be stimulated and to learn from people whose job is dedicated to exactly that purpose.  John is 72 years old (if I'm not mistaken) and he's losing his hearing.  Although there's no question that he loves Seva and cares for her very much, we felt that his level of attention and ability to stimulate Seva was good, but not to the same level that she would get at daycare.

Obviously we hope that we've made the right decision.  I guess this is one of the early decisions out of many, many more that we'll have to make in Seva's best interest.  May God guide us throughout all our decisions.  I hope we're good parents.

Changing topics now, I still feel regret and guilt from time to time about the changes in my relationships with others and also my past relationships.  I know that life always changes and so nothing is ever guaranteed to stay the same.  But I also miss some of my friendships, I feel bad about how I treated some people, especially ex-girlfriends and girls I've dated, and I miss "the old days."  Maybe I'm just getting old (haha) and wistful.  Looking at it logically, though, I guess this is what growing up is all about.  Just like anyone else, I was bound to make mistakes and, unfortunately, many of those mistakes came at the expense of other people's feelings.  Also, as I've gotten older, I realize that there is nothing that should compel me to remain friends with people whose values I disagree with.  My last job at PLA was a great example.  When I first started working there when I was much younger, it matched my values and ideals to a great degree.  I still admire the boundless optimism that I had when I wrote my application letter to law schools, referencing my job at PLA.  Over the course of my term there as a lawyer, though, the culture there changed.  Or maybe I changed.  Or maybe it was just the mixture of personalities that happened to be there over the course of that time.  It was likely a combination of all those things, and perhaps more.  Bottom line is that I didn't like it there, I didn't feel comfortable, and the culture frankly sucked.  Fine, no problem.  I'm not going to change anyone, and I didn't have the energy or interest in that environment to do so, thus I left.  Even with all that being true, however, there's still a bit of a vacuum for the kind of office culture and work relationships that I hope to have.  With God's grace, I'll hopefully be able to begin and develop new relationships.  I've already become active with a couple of excellent pro bono projects, to which I'm volunteering my time.  This is my true self.  And to any haters at PLA or beyond, I'll let my actions speak for me, without promoting myself on facebook like someone desperate for greatness (you know people like that, I'm sure).  I'm gonna work hard, I am working hard, and I'm gonna help people.  Let that be enough.  And may God forgive me of my sins.  And may I forgive myself for the changing of the seasons and the passing of time, and therefore accept that the past belongs where it is, as I look forward to the future that awaits, according to God's will.

Seva's first subway ride

Yesterday (Sunday, August 24th) was Seva's first ride on a subway.  Seva loved it.  Jeannie and I picked up the Broad Street Line at Walnut-Locust station, then transferred at City Hall to the Market-Frankford Line, which we took to the Spring Garden station.  Especially during the longer ride on the MFL, with Seva sitting on my lap in a window seat, she looked intently out of the window at the lights periodically spaced out between the stations and then she looked curiously at the station whenever we were stopped.  For only being four and a half months old, she certainly seemed to enjoy it.

Once we got off at the Spring Garden station we walked down to Delaware Avenue and then over to Morgan's Pier, for an "event" or better yet evening of Polido Social Club.  The Morgan's Pier website calls it:

The Polido Social Club is a weekly hang out of sunset riverside explorations curated by a revolving cast of tropical taste makers. Polido is a term Portuguese folks use for polite, polished, sleek, and smooth ~ which is exactly the type of evening vibe the social club wants you to feel.

It was a very nice evening.  We sat on high chairs facing the marina on the Delaware River.  The sun was out for most of the time.  And there was a cool breeze coming off the river.  There was a speaker on the floor just below our chairs, so we could hear the music playing.  There was a pretty good crowed, but it wasn't crowded.  I drank a lemonade, Jeannie drank a cranberry juice mixed with lemonade, and we shared french fries with garlic aioli sauce.  Seva did a great job hanging out.  And we had a really good time as a family, along the Delaware River, just north of the Ben Franklin Bridge.

Tonight we had a big dinner.  We hosted my mom, Jeannie's dad, and our friends Katy and Andrew (and their 6 month-old daughter Grace).  I cooked chicken seasoned with Adobo, black beans with Goya Recaito sauce, and white rice in boiled chicken bouillon cubes.  I received good reviews all around.  Jeannie made some homemade lime fizz by squeezing lime juice into sparkling water and a teaspoon of turbinado sugar.  For an unplanned, impromptu get-together, I think we did a great job.

Seva's first time to the ocean

I wonder who's reading these posts?  I often wonder that, but today I'm putting it in writing.  Whoever you are, I hope that you're enjoying what you're reading.  I can't imagine that my life or my thoughts are that interesting to anyone besides me.  But then again, I think I would be interested to hear or read how others live their lives and the thoughts they have on a daily basis.  Each person's life is a journey and everyone has a story to tell.  So in that regard, I guess I shouldn't downplay what I share here.

With that brief preface, my dear reader, now that I've broken the fourth wall, let me tell you a little bit about my weekend.

Yesterday was Seva's first trip to the ocean.  Jeannie, Seva, and I drove to Brant Beach on Long Beach Island to visit my aunt Judith, uncle Ray, and cousin Marc.  Jess had gotten there a couple hours before we did.  Seva got some sand between her toes and Jeannie even held Seva up when a wave came up to shore to get Seva's feet wet.  Seva, in her usual demeanor, was very calm and observant of the whole scene.  Of my extended family members there, she seemed most intrigued by her great-aunt Judith, with whom she seemed to have a connection.  I guess the fact that aunt Judith was so interested in Seva probably helped too.

We hung out on the beach for a couple hours, from about 3:30pm to 5:30pm.  I got the ocean for a while, a good 20 to 30 minutes I'd say.  The weather was pristine: highs in the 80s, clear blue sky, occasional light breeze, and the icing on the cake was warm ocean water.  Once I dove under that first wave to get myself wet, the water was absolutely relaxing.  In my entire life, I've rarely experienced the Jersey Atlantic at that temperature.  It was a real blessing.

We all went inside for a dinner of burgers, hot dogs, and potato salad, along with a glass of Jersey Devil white wine, diluted a bit with some ice cubes and club soda (the wine was pretty sweet).  After dinner, I had a few pieces of diced cantaloupe as dessert.  And we told stories, some of them about my grandfather and some about my father.

My aunt Judith described my father's relationship with his father as "contentious."  She said that her father didn't really interact with her and aunt Susan, because they were girls, so her father actually had the closest relationship with Pito, although that wasn't necessarily saying much.  She said that her father was "critical" of others.  Cousin Marc gave the example that even I would have been criticized for having hair too long (right now, my hair is completely buzzed on the sides and I have less than an inch of hair on top, not even long enough to style).  I guessed that my grandfather's military background in the U.S. Navy played a part in that mentality.  Aunt Judith said that her father would just disagree to disagree: "if you said white, he'd say black."  One thing I learned was that my grandfather willingly chose to join the U.S. Navy during World War II.  Uncle Ray explained that having a family was an exemption to being enlisted, so my grandfather could have used that as a reason to stay home.  Aunt Judith said that, among her classmates in school, her father was the only one away in the military.  When I asked if my grandfather used the war as a way to "escape" life at home, aunt Judith said that was always her impression.  She said that she was raised by and large by her mother's parents (my great-grandparents), so that when her father returned from the war, he and even her mother were still merely "substitute parents."  I found that really interesting.  She concurred what I had heard that my grandfather acted like a drill sergeant by personally coaching my dad at the track directly across the street from their house in Englewood, pushing my dad to run faster, holding a stopwatch and timing the intervals.

We also heard the funny story, which my sister brought up, about my dad wanting to date a black girl in high school and my grandfather finding out and chasing my dad in circles in the yard outside the house.  I remember my dad telling me about this episode that he tried to reason with his father that he coached black kids on the track team, so it should be okay for his son to date a black girl.  It didn't matter to my grandfather.  Although they lived in a suburb of New York City, the fact remained that this was 1960s America.

Jess also brought up a story that was completely new to everyone at the table.  According to her, Pito baked pot brownies and gave them to his parents.  Uncle Ray laughed at the thought of my grandfather stoned, saying "I would've loved to have seen that."  I'll have to ask Pito if that story is true.

Cousin Marc told a story about how Pito had let him drive his car at the age of 12.  He said that they were all in Forked River (at my grandparents' house at 842 Wave Drive) and my dad asked Marc, then age 12 or so, if he wanted to drive.  Obviously Marc said yes, so without telling any of the other adults there, my dad took him out in his car.  Marc said that he first drove while my dad controlled the pedals, then they switched.  My dad told Marc not to tell anyone, but as soon as Marc walked in the door and someone asked him what he was doing, Marc said "Uncle Francis let me drive!" to which my grandmother dropped something in the sink and aunts Judith and Susan, who were sitting at the kitchen table, looked at him in shock.

Marc also told the story about the time that my dad picked him up at school in some kind of red convertible, with his mother (my aunt) in the passenger seat.  He said that all his classmates were in total disbelief, saying something to the effect of "whoa! that's your dad?!" since they knew Marc's mother and they just assumed that it must have been Marc's father in the driver seat.  Marc said that, growing up, he always wanted to grow up to be like Pito.  That's kind of funny for me to hear, being his son.  I can also see that my dad was clearly rebellious against his father.

Aunt Judith said that her father disagreed in some way with Pito's decision to go into the Peace Corps.  And it wasn't until my grandfather (and grandmother) visited Pito in Costa Rica and saw what he was doing there that he had any kind of respect for the decision.  I type this here almost verbatim from what aunt Judith said last night.

To step back from all these stories, I must state that it had been at least 15 years since I'd seen aunt Judith, uncle Ray, and cousin Marc.  As best as I could recall to Jeannie during our car ride there, I'm pretty certain that I last saw my paternal extended family at my cousin Stephen's wedding, when I was a sophomore (as best I can remember) in college.  Now that I had a chance to reconnect with them and especially after hearing stories of my dad, I realize that it's important to continue building my relationship with my dad.  I also think about the handful of people in my life that don't seem to like me (namely a few of my coworkers at PLA) and I realize that I need to stick with all the people who do seem to like me and care about me.  And between so many of my friends, plus the unconditional love of family, I see that I'm a very fortunate guy.  And that I don't need to let the prejudice of a handful of others get me down.

We drove home late last night.  We got home around 11pm.

This morning I did the welcome remarks and the first reading at mass at St. Charles Borromeo, which I had been scheduled to do for a few months back.  I felt embarrassed by the fact that I've missed Sunday mass for about the past month.  But I'm very thankful that I had this commitment this morning to urge me to finally go again.  As I have before, I got compliments from a few people afterwards that I did a good job, from Ms. Richardson, from Sandy, and from our friends Pete and Vanessa, who also attended (and who I didn't see until I returned to my seat next to Jeannie after the first reading).  It felt good to be back.  It really did.

Afterwards, Pete, Vanessa, Jeannie, Seva, and I went to brunch at Cafe Ynez.  I ate an omelette with orange juice.  It was good.  Although I started feeling a bit tired during brunch (especially my voice, which always seems to be one of the first indicators that I'm tired), it was nice to spend some time with friends, talking about marriages, buying a house, and traveling the world.

As if I didn't realize how tired I was, I later took a long nap on the couch in the afternoon.  Nothing like a summer Sunday afternoon nap!

Finally, to rejoin the theme of reconnecting, we drove to Cherry Hill this evening to meet my old friend Shay and his family for dinner at their house.  Shay cooked a whole bunch of stuff on the grill and we ate inside at the dining room table, while talking about all sorts of things.  I haven't seen Shay since probably around 2002 or so.  He looks a bit heavier and just a little bit older, but he really mostly looks the same.  When we first got there, his wife Eki took us on a tour of their backyard, where they have a couple chicken coops, a couple rabbit pens, three ducks walking freely, and fish pond, and various vegetable garden enclosures.  It was amazing to see their ingenuity in using their suburban backyard to provide for their family.  Shay even installed a couple solar panels on the main chicken coop.  It was impressive to see.  I really enjoyed seeing him and catching up with him.  As I told him before we left, I hope we can see each other again soon, certainly much sooner than 10 years from now.

All in all, it was a good weekend.  My only minor frustration is that I feel that I've spent such little quality one-on-one time with Jeannie; for the past week, she's been so tired or in such a business state-of-mind that it's either been not possible or not fun to hang out with her.  I'm only eight months into this journey called matrimony, but I knew these kinds of challenges, mostly brought on from external conditions, would inevitably come.  I will say this though: no matter what I'm very happy to be married.  Especially to Jeannie.  I very much prefer it to the alternatives, which I've lived through before.  So for everything -- from the weekend to life itself -- I thank God.  Now time for bed.....

I'm a Simple Man, used to Changes

I'm a minimalist.  I have one pair of shorts, one sweatshirt, one pair of jeans, one pair of athletic shorts.  Even as a kid, I didn't like shopping.  I remember abhorring back-to-school clothes shopping.  Now, as an adult, if I need something, I go to whatever store has it, go directly to where it is, get it, and get out as soon as I can.

It kinda goes hand-in-hand with me being so frugal.  I'm a saver, not a spender.  As alluded to above, I only spend money when it's necessary and I know specifically what I need.

The longest I ever lived in one place, one residence that is, was when I lived at the Double-Deuce & Spruce: from June 2003 through October 2011, a total of 8 years, 5 months.  As I wrote that (then took a few minutes, thinking out loud, to be sure of the dates), I said "wow!"  It's hard to believe that I lived there for that length of time.  The longest that I ever attended one school, one individual educational institution, was my 4 years of college.  And the longest that I've ever worked at one job, for one employer, for a consecutive stretch is my current one: since October 2009, thus for 4 years, 8 months until I went out on paternity leave to be with Seva.  Although I don't like changes (my friend Evan pointed that out to me years ago), I've had a lifetime of stages or periods until the next change came.  I guess that's at least partly why I was so impressed just now at the length of time I lived at the Double-Deuce & Spruce; nothing comes close.  Although I can agree with Evan that I don't particularly like change, I know that -- because I'm so accustomed to a new school or a new town or a new home or a new job every 2 or 3 years -- I have an internal clock which gets louder as that existential mile-marker is passed.  During that time, the scales slowly begin to tip away from complacency and antipathy towards change and they tip in the direction of shaking things up, doing something new, taking on a challenge, making a move.  Busy myself as I often do, once the down time comes, those internal whispers become ever more audible.  We have a magnet on our refrigerator which says, "when your heart speaks, take good notes."  So it's kinda like that, the voice that comes from my heart gets louder, until I have no choice but to take note.  And then the questions become: where to? what next?

Proud to be a Two-Fifteener

I just saw on the ESPN ticker that college football begins August 28th.  I'm excited.  There's nothing like football.  College football on Saturdays, pro football on Sundays.  It reminds me that fall is on its way, my favorite season of the year.

Earlier today, I met Jeannie outside La Colombe across from City Hall, while she ate her lunch from Five Guys and I drank a coffee.  Despite the very light drizzle, I rode my bike to see her.  It was nice to spend some time with her while her dad watched Seva at home.

After dropping off Jeannie at her job, I walked over to 15th & Market Streets, where I sat down and waited for my friend Mike to come by.  I waited for about half an hour, but I didn't mind because I enjoyed people-watching and that, for once, I wasn't in any rush to go anywhere or do anything.  It felt really nice actually.

Finally, when I saw Mike walking towards me, I noticed that he was with [F.B.], another attorney who I've argued cases against and who I know Mike has become friendly with over the past year or so.  When [F.B.] came up to me he gave me a hug.  Despite our encounters in Court, we've always been friendly with each other.  It was probably also cool for him to see that Mike's friend was me.  [F.B.] suggested that we grab a drink, so we walked a couple blocks to Tir Na Nog.  We mainly talked about the practice of law and our families.  It was a good time.  Eventually [F.B.] had to leave to go back to his office, so it was really nice to have a chance to catch up, just a little bit, with Mike one-on-one.

Having had a couple beers, though, by the time I got back home I was just enough out of sorts that I didn't get much done.  I still hadn't eaten lunch, so I did that first: ham & American cheese on seeded rye with wasabi mayonnaise and a slice of pickle, along with popcorn, a banana, and an apple on the side.

Fast-forwarding to tonight, Jeannie made salads as usual and I cooked macaroni and cheese with tuna and peas, while we watched the movie American Reunion on FXX.  While sitting on the couch, Seva began yelling as she has the past few days, not in any kind of angry or demanding way, but instead as a flexing of her voice and lungs.  It's hilarious.  I have to admit that, once Seva gets started, Jeannie and I encourage it by yelling too.  We laugh the whole time.  It's really funny.

Finally, to conclude this post tonight, I'll offer a totally random thought: I would not for any amount of money or at any level of income live in New York City.  Just the thought of living there tires me.  It's just too much of some things (people, money, attitude) and not enough of others (living space, trees, open spaces, a sense of community).  I happily prefer being a Two-Fifteener: just enough city, just enough sense of community, with quick enough accessibility to open spaces within the city and then the suburbs beyond.

Reconnecting with Family

I just got off a half-hour Skype call with my cousins Carlos and Enrique; they could see me, but because their camera wasn't working I couldn't see them.  But it was great to hear both their voices and catch up with them.  Especially after what I wrote about Carlos just a few days ago.  It goes to show you (and me) that you can never assume anything and that communication is very important to dispel any incorrect assumptions.  I'm feeling pretty happy right now.

At the end of the call, I told them that I was going to get my daughter, but when I came back on screen I was holding up Rocky.  I asked them rhetorically if he looked like me; I got a good laugh from them on that one.  Then, a minute later, I actually brought Seva into the picture.  She had been crying in her crib upstairs (probably because she could hear my voice speaking loudly downstairs).  Although she calmed down for a minute, she started crying again (probably because she was tired at this late hour), so I had to end the call.  I told Carlos, though, that I hope to talk with him again soon.

We had a few good laughs during our conversation; it was really good.  Now that I'm writing about it, it makes me think for the first time that I'd like to go back to Costa Rica at some point.  I hadn't felt that way until now.

Sticking with the theme of reconnecting with family, Jess is going to visit our Aunt Judith and Uncle Ray in Long Beach Island this weekend.  A couple of our cousins may be there too.  Jess passed along Judith's invitation for Jeannie, Seva, and me to go.  And I think we just may take them up on the offer, which would be the first time I've seen the paternal side of my family in many years.

Finally, I just want to add a comment relating to a thought that I'd had earlier today, a thought that came back to me and was reconfirmed after my Skype call with my cousins: I have been much, much happier being away from [...].  It's now been about two months that I've been away.  I reflected and realized today that I'm turning a corner now where my mental and emotional health is finally healing.  I finally feel like my old self!  It's a great feeling.  And it's a sign that I'm heading in the right direction, towards good and away from a bad vibe.  I feel great and I'm thankful.

Weekend Recap

We had a great weekend, even though it didn't go according to plan.

Friday night we drove out to Media to visit our friends Katy, Andrew, Deb, and Antoine.  We had fun brainstorming over cheese, wine, and other snacks.  It was a productive night and I look forward to the next steps that will come from that meeting.  The only downside was Jeannie's prediction came true: we'd get home so late that we'd be tired and sleep in on Saturday, causing us to cancel or postpone our plans to take a road trip South.

As such, most of Saturday was a day of rest.  I can't even say that I remember what we did, except that we stayed in the house for most of the day.  If I recall correctly, I folded some laundry that had been in the dryer for a day or two, and I did some reading.  But then some time in the late afternoon, around 5pm I wanna say, I suggested to Jeannie that we take a walk.  She agreed, so we packed-up Seva and we headed out.  The weather was exceptionally cool for this time of year; I just heard that the high temperature yesterday was only 77 degrees.

Our first destination was the Wine & Spirits store on Market Street.  After taking our last bottle of red wine to Katy and Andrew's place, I thought we needed to restock.  We got three bottles: two bottles of malbec and one bottle of tempranillo from the Rioja region of Spain.  Right before we got there, though, I saw a couple of men standing in the middle of the sidewalk and looking at a map.  Once we were near them, I spoke up and asked them if they needed directions.  They asked in which direction was the river, to which I replied: "which one?  The Schuylkill is that way (pointing west down Market Street), and the Delaware is that way (pointing back east on Market)."  After chatting with them for a couple minutes while walking west, we found out that they were a couple guys from Australia, probably in their 50s, looking to head back to their hotel after they'd gotten a drink or two at a bar.  They said that they were in town for a combination of business and pleasure, and that they needed to get ready for dinner.  I was happy to have pointed them in the right direction.  Hopefully they enjoyed the rest of their time in the 215.

After getting our wine, we walked around somewhat aimlessly for a while, looking for a place to get a sweet snack.  I won't even go through the progression of places that we considered and/or actually went to.  I'll skip to the point that we finally decided to go to Miel, on 17th Street, where we each got a chocolate cube dessert, which we ate at a table on the sidewalk.  We noticed a lot of people wearing lanyards, indicating that they were very likely in town for some sort of convention.  I commented to Jeannie how so many people walk in public without making any eye contact at all with anyone else, as if everyone is scared to interact with a stranger.  While sitting there, I on the other hand looked at everyone who walked by; perhaps this was easier and less potentially intimidating to others since I had Seva standing with my assistance on my lap for most of the time.  Anyway, we had a nice time sitting there for a while, enjoying the cool, comfortable weather that I already mentioned.

Due in great part to that great weather, as well as a feeling (for myself at least) of being out of the house and enjoying it, I suggested to Jeannie that we continue our walk by getting burgers at 500 Degrees.  Jeannie agreed, so we walked over to the 1500 block of Sansom.  We each got a burger, and Jeannie got a side of truffle fries, which we split.  Again we sat at a table on the sidewalk.  After eating I went in to wash my greasy hands and when I came out, there was a guy sitting at another table next to ours.  He was asking Jeannie, then me, for advice on whether he could take a 19 year-old girl into Rumor.  I gave some advice to him as best as I could.  And we chatted for a few minutes.  He said he was from the Congo.  I asked him: "Kinshasa?" to which he said "no," so I immediately smiled and said, "Brazzaville?" to which he was very impressed.  He said that he was in Philadelphia for the first time, visiting for a short period to practice his English (which was pretty good, other than an accent).  He said that he was living in Paris, which was common practice for Africans who want to create a better resume for themselves and thus open up better job opportunities for when they return to the Congo.  At the end of our short talk, I gave him my personal business card.  I enjoyed our short, impromptu meeting.

On our walk home, we stopped through Rittenhouse Square, where we saw a gathering at the main entrance to the park, at the corner of 18th & Walnut Streets.  There we saw a recognizable Philly street singer singing to a small crowd.  We walked up to join everyone and listen in for a few songs.  At the end of one song, the singer announced to the crowd that, in addition to being a singer, he was also a psychic.  He approached a woman in the crowd and asked if her name was Patricia; she nodded yes.  She was standing next to her boyfriend.  Then, the singer began singing a happy song (which I didn't recognize, but Jeannie did).  I forget how they got there, but the girl and her boyfriend ended up listening to the song from a more prominent position in front of the singer.  Then, about halfway through the song, the boyfriend stepped away from the girl, reached his hand into his pocket, pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee and proposed to her.  The singer stopped singing, while the music kept going, but pretty low.  The girl indicated that she said yes and the crowd cheered!  In honor of the couple, the singer immediately began singing Etta James' famous song, "At Last."  It was a very touching and authentic moment.  I saw some women wiping tears away from their eyes.  It was great to be there to see and experience all that.

Shortly after getting home, Jeannie changed Seva's diaper.  I was downstairs.  Seva must have been revved up and excited, because as Jeannie was changing her, Jeannie was asking questions about our walk, to which Seva answered by just yelling pretty loudly for her little body.  It was hilarious.  After a couple minutes of this, I came upstairs to capture it on video, but I only caught the very tail-end of it.  It was funny, though, hearing Seva really test her lungs and assert herself.  Jeannie and I were both laughing.

Finally, Jeannie and I slept in this morning.  It was another cool day and another day of rest.  We watched the movie "Coach Carter" on tv.  Then later in the afternoon, while still sitting on the couch, while Jeannie was holding Seva, I started to play with Seva, mainly by rubbing my head into Seva's hands and her belly and chest.  Seva started laughing!  It was such a funny and beautiful moment.  We really had fun.  It was one of those moments where we were all together as a family and just enjoying being together.

So I guess you could say that, although the weekend didn't go exactly according to plan, it was a great weekend, and for that I thank God.

Date night and spending time with others

The weekend began on Friday evening with Jeannie and I going on our first date since the birth of Seva.  We went to dinner at Audrey Claire, then drove to PPL Park to catch the second half of Crystal Palace at Philadelphia Union, then we drove over the Commodore Barry Bridge into South Jersey to hit up the WIF (Water Ice Factory) in Magnolia before heading back to pick-up Seva and go home.

The highlight yesterday was visiting Jeannie's friend, Sam, who had a small gathering at his home on Lincoln Drive.  Besides Jeannie, Seva, and me, there were only 4 others, so it was a pretty low-key event.  The weather was pretty nice, as it was on Friday too, so we sat on the deck out back.  I asked Sam's partner, Shin, a lot of questions about his native Tokyo.  And Jeannie and Sam reminisced quite a bit about their days in their international MBA program.

Before going to the gathering at Sam's, I found out from my friend Ronald that he will be visiting Philadelphia for one day in March 2015.  I'm really looking forward to seeing him.

Today was a day of rest.  I didn't set foot out of the apartment all day.  I watered the plants, drank coffee, gave myself a haircut, took a shower, spent time with Jeannie's friend Veronica who came over for a short visit before she had to leave for PHL, read my book, talked on the phone with my sister, spent time with Jeannie's dad who was here for the day giving us a hand around the apartment, watched the movie Superbad on Comedy Central, ate a great dinner prepared by Jeannie and her dad (shrimp with garlic, cod, rice with coconut milk, and lentils), and spent a lot of fun time with Seva at the end of the night.

Well, Jeannie just passed by and she's getting ready to go to bed.  Since I want the chance to spend time with her before she falls asleep, I'm going to wrap this up now and head up too.  Good night, dear readers.

Tidbits

Since I married Jeannie, I have not removed my wedding ring from my finger, other than rarely fiddling around with it during a meeting or while watching tv.

Seva laughed for the first time tonight.  It was a beautiful and amazing thing to see.  While Jeannie was cooking mac'n'cheese (with tuna & peas) for dinner, I was playing around with Seva.  While standing near the stove, I was holding Seva facing me, with her pelvis held against my mid-torso and her upper body angled away from my body, so she could look up at me.  I periodically dipped down, while smiling at her and encouraging her.  She responded positively and seemed to be having a good time.  And then, she started giggling.  She did it for just a couple of seconds after about a handful of the dips, then she didn't do it again.  When I looked at Jeannie, she had tears of joy in her eyes.  Like I said, it was a beautiful and amazing thing to see.

I also found out online today that there is a Seva Café right outside of Washington, D.C., in Alexandria, Virginia.  We'll have to go there some day, maybe soon.

Jeannie and I went a couple nights ago (on Saturday, July 19th) to visit my friend Javi and his girlfriend Gina.  We enjoyed a really nice evening of salad (made of kale, scallops, cashews), dessert (dates, figs, and sunflower seeds), moscato rosé wine, and coffee.  Javi also played some music for us, first on his various flutes, then on his guitar.  Jeannie had brought her guitar, so she played the only song she knows how to play, Blackbird (Beatles song), while Javi played one of his flutes.  At one point, while Jeannie went into the bedroom to feed Seva, I was able to speak en español to Javi and Gina; we discussed politics in Latin America.  All in all, we had a really great time.  I hope to spend time with them again.

I've noticed that Seva now weighs more than the Baby.  Speaking of the Baby, her right ear has been very dirty the last few days.  I clean it out with cotton swabs, but it seems to get dirty again.  And since I bring up the Baby, I should say that Rocky is doing well as always.  This evening he rediscovered the toy mouse that he goes stretches forgetting about; he kicked it around for a while and really had a lot of fun.

Tonight at the Y, I did a chest/arms work-out.  In my final set of bench press, I put up 195 pounds twice.  In my final set of dumbbell curls, I lifted 35 pound dumbbells 8 times each arm.  In my final set of incline bench press, I put up 135 pounds 4 times; that was at the very end of my work-out.  Overall it was a very good work-out.

Oh, a couple days ago, on Saturday, I helped Jeannie's dad move into his new apartment here in Philadelphia.  He's living just a few blocks away from Rittenhouse Square and he's no more than a short 8-minute walk from our place, so he'll be able to see Seva much more often.  This is great not just for him, but for me too in the short-term as he'll be available to watch Seva for short periods of time when I need to run an errand or take care of something and also for Jeannie and me in the medium-term as he'll be available for babysitting services.  I like my father-in-law a lot, so I'm happy to have him close by now.

Well, it's time to take out the trash and I should be winding down since I know Jeannie wants to go to start going to bed a bit earlier at night.  I thank God for all blessings and ask for God's blessing, protection, and guidance every day always, but especially in these next handful of months, when there will be so much change.

Seva's Progress

Seva is almost 14 weeks old.  And she continues to make progress, seemingly every day.  Jeannie just mentioned to me that, earlier this evening (while I was at the gym), Seva did not cry at all during her bath, not at any point from beginning to end.  This was a first.  Apparently she is getting used to getting bathed.  I think she even likes it now.

With that being said, though, there has not been one day in her short life so far in which she has not cried.  She cries every day: out of hunger; because she has a dirty diaper; because she doesn't want to be laid down, but instead continued to be held; because she wakes up alone and wants attention; or sometimes simply because she is getting sleepy.  A day will come when she will not cry at any point from when she wakes to when she goes to sleep for the night.  I'm looking forward to that day.

Jeannie also wanted me to write here that Seva discovered our DirecTv remote control on Tuesday of this week, and she's been mesmerized by it ever since.  The reason she likes it so much is that there is a part of it, near the middle, where there are buttons of several different colors (red, green, yellow, blue, orange, gray, and black) near each other.  The colors obviously draw her attention.  I witnessed it tonight for the first time.  It was very cute and funny; she would just stare at the remote control and follow it with her eyes no matter where I held it.

Finally, as I wrote in a text message to my mom earlier tonight, Seva seems to be more vocal and more emotive these days, especially at times when both Jeannie and I are around and talking with each other.  It's like Seva wants to join the conversation.  It's funny and also amazing to see her continue to develop, albeit in small incremental steps, but on a daily basis.  We've really been blessed.  As I write this now, she's sleeping in her crib upstairs, our beautiful baby girl.

My Wife is Beautiful

I gave a hug and kisses to Jeannie as she was about to walk out the door to work this morning.  She was wearing a black top and gray skirt and she looked absolutely amazing.  She's a beautiful woman, inside and out, and I'm very attracted to her.  I am so happy that I'm married to her.

As I write this, Seva is sitting in my lap, facing the computer screen.  I'm so grateful to be a father.  Seva is the product of my love for Jeannie, including everything I wrote above, and I'm just so happy that we're a family.

I'm happy for everything that is good in life.  I also understand that sometimes there are people and situations that are not good, and that's okay too, but that it's best to limit or even remove those people and situations from one's life.  There are some places where you belong and others where you don't.

Good Second Day, and the issue of Public Education

Today was a good second day at home with Seva.  She had some really good time on her belly, during which she was really able to arch her back and hold her head up for a period of several minutes, without any problem or difficulty at all.  She continues to show great observational skills, as she's clearly curious at all the thing within her immediate field of vision.  Finally, she's showing more and more signs of recognition.  For example, Jeannie and I went food-shopping at Trader Joe's tonight.  Jeannie had Seva in the front-loaded backpack.  At different points, I saw Seva looking at me in recognition, probably precisely because I wasn't holding her.  And again tonight, just a few minutes ago in fact, right after Jeannie finished feeding Seva, Seva just stared at me in recognition, then when I started talking to her and making noises she responded with a smile of recognition.

Tonight, we watched two back-to-back Frontline programs on PBS, both of them excellent: first, Separate and Unequal, then Omarina's Story.  Although each program was only 30 minutes long, each did a great job of concisely presenting the issues.  In Separate and Unequal, the intersection of race and class in the area of public education in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  In Omarina's Story, a vignette of the challenges, both educational and class-related, of Omarina Cabrera, a teenage girl of Dominican descent in New York.  Without getting into too much detail at this point and in this forum, I may very likely have the opportunity to serve as a member of a board of directors of a school, located in an urban, low-income neighborhood.  To say that seeing these programs tonight was timely and apropos is pretty obvious.  As I mentioned to Jeannie, the issues raised in the programs, particularly the first one, remind me of a book that I read a number of years ago: Savage Inequalities: Children in America's Schools by Jonathan Kozol.  I'll have to take a look at the book again.  I remember it was a very good read.

Lightning and Progress

Today was Jeannie's first day back to work after three months of maternity leave, thus her first day at the office since early April.  That meant that today was my first day as stay-at-home dad with Seva.  I've had three preparatory experiences, though: once when Jeannie was feeling very overwhelmed and she went to stay at a hotel in Center City, another time when Jeannie stayed at a hotel overnight with her friend Marcella who was visiting us from out-of-town, and a third time when Jeannie went down to Washington, D.C. to spend the night with her birth mother who was in D.C. for a work-related conference.  So, today wasn't something totally difficult or new or overwhelming for me.  In fact, I enjoyed a pretty good day with Seva.

We danced while listening to music a couple times.  And as I've stated before, when Seva isn't sleeping, it's very often that she likes to be held, so I held her a lot today, often with her head either on my shoulder or, when she falls asleep, her face sort of planted into my neck between my shoulder and cheek/chin.  Seva definitely seems to like dancing; I'm not sure yet if it's the sound of the music or the motion that comes with dancing or a combination of both, but if she's not getting too sleepy she often lights up when we're dancing.

I tell ya, when Seva is awake and alert, without any pressing needs like food or a diaper change, she's a beautiful little girl.  There are moments when she just seems happy to receive attention and those moments are great.  I'm really happy to be a father.

Anyway, the other part of my title above is a reference to the pretty nasty lightning storm that we had tonight.  I was at the YMCA, doing some lifting when the storm began.  I had to run home in the rain.  As I got home, the storm seemed to intensify, with more and more lightning in the sky.  Our DirecTv signal was totally out, until it came on for about 20 minutes, just in time for 6abc to interrupt regular programming (The Bachelorette) with updates on the progress of the storm and warnings for what to do in the event of a tornado.  In the meantime, I cooked pork chops (seasoned with sea salt and Cajun seasoning), while Jeannie made rice (with light coconut milk and water).  Finally, the storm abated and we were able to watch the Bachelorette while eating dinner and while Seva sleep for a bit in her bouncy chair.  Overall, I'd say it was a good day and good night.

Seva's first roll-over

Today, July 4, 2014, at almost exactly 12:00 p.m., Seva rolled over for the first time from her tummy (face-down) to her back (face-up).  Jeannie and I were both here to witness it as it happened.  Seva was in her pack-n-play downstairs.  It was pretty cool to see.  As we've been noticing, Seva's ability to hold her head up and arch her back have been improving.  And as I've been saying all along, her legs are really strong.

Anyway, time for me to make some coffee now.

My mom

More often than not, I can't stand my mom.  I can only take her in small, infrequent doses.  Our best conversations are by telephone, since she actually listens and pays attention.  In person, she is easily distracted and generally doesn't listen.  In fact, in almost every single in-person conversation with my mom these days, I eventually say something to the effect of: "as I just mentioned a few minutes ago..." or "I already answered that question."  Thankfully, she's usually a better listener with others.  But even that being said, I find myself cringing or feeling shame when I can visually observe her fail to pay attention to someone else -- I can actually see that she's not listening to what they're saying.  What should I do in that situation?  Say something to her, thereby putting her on the spot?  I just let it happen.  I don't say anything.  I know that it's a combination of anxiety/attention deficit, along with good old-fashioned self-centeredness, that leads my mother to completely zone out of the conversation and into her own thoughts, usually in advance of what she's about to say next.

Do I act this way?  Possibly, but I sure hope not.  When I began my career as a paralegal at [...], I prided myself on my own development into a good listener.  It was something that helped my clients to gain trust in me.  And in my personal life, it helped me to quickly develop close relationships with the women that I met.  At this point in time, though, to be honestly self-critical, I feel that I've lost that skill to a certain degree.  As a paralegal I met with a high volume of clients on a daily basis; that helped to hone that skill to a highly developed level.  Now, as a lawyer, with a much lower volume of client contact and somewhat less frequency, I feel that my level of this skill has diminished somewhat.

Anyway, back to my mom, one of her downfalls is that she always talks as if she knows with absolute certainty what she's talking about, which wouldn't be so bad if it weren't so often on topics for which she has no real experience.  One of her favorite lead-in lines is: "they say...", to which I'll sometimes challenge her by asking "who is 'they'?"  In other words, she has no citations or authorities for her very bold opinions.

As a perfect example, my mom was very confident in a conversation with Jeannie today about how an IRA, like a 401(k), can be rolled-over into a Roth IRA.  Jeannie and I just met with a financial adviser today!  Jeannie told my mom that an already existing IRA cannot be rolled-over into a Roth IRA, unless of course the titleholder is willing to pay a large penalty fee.  Jeannie had to say this twice to my mom before she heard and understood her.  This example is typical of my mom.  She will be not just confident but stubbornly positive about her position/opinion, even if she has no backing for it.  Fortunately, Jeannie has a ton more patience than I do; it's one of the qualities I love most about her, since she certainly counterbalances me on that point.

Finally, to wrap-up this post, I'll admit that the impetus to write it was something that my mom said to me right before leaving earlier today.  As she was about to walk out the door, I came upstairs to bring a Gatorade bottle that she had left here from her previous visit.  I told her that she should take it since it was hers and I held on to it for her as she had said that I should.  My mom replied pointedly by saying "that's not true."  I felt angry right away and told her that I asked her to take it with her last time when she left, but she said then that I should keep it for her for the next time she came to visit -- which happened to be today.  She repeated "that's not true."  I felt very angry and asked her, "are you calling me a liar?" at which point Jeannie, who was already out the door with Seva, quickly said to my mom, "okay, let's go," in an attempt to ward off any kind of argument.  I wasn't in the mood to deal with it anyway, so I turned on my heels, went directly downstairs, and poured out the rest of the Gatorade down the kitchen sink, and recycled the plastic bottle.  This final vignette is another example of my mom: in her mind and memory, she can never be wrong.  It's so maddeningly annoying.  For which reason, I said that more often than not I can't stand my mom.

Analysis of my relationship with Ileana, and how it still effects me today

With the benefit of the passing of time and the diminishing of strong feelings, I can more easily see my relationship with Ileana more clearly.  There was a turning point in there somewhere, much much sooner than the actual end of the relationship.  As with so many relationships, I'm sure there wasn't a specific day that there was a turning point.  But looking back through old emails as mile-markers, I'd say it was somewhere between November 19, 2010 (when Ileana and I went to see George Lopez live at the Academy of Music) and March 29, 2011 (when we returned from three weeks in Costa Rica).  If either one of us had any sense (me) or any courage (her), we should have ended our relationship after returning from that trip.

The fact of the matter was that I was 33 years old at that time -- ready not just for a relationship, but for marriage -- while on the other hand Ileana was only 24 years old -- fresh into post-college 20s and ready to be free.  The problem was that I was too myopic to the possibility of life and love after Ileana and (frankly) too obsessed with her to have the sense to end the relationship, despite the consistent recurring waves of dissatisfaction and unfulfillment from her.  For me, at that time, ending the relationship wasn't even an option.

The problem for Ileana was that she was caught between a rock and a hard place.  The rock: the fact that she was only a couple years out of college and she wanted to live the "typical" life of a young woman in her mid-20s, proving her independence to herself by renting her own apartment, paying her own bills, working for herself, and in all other respects to be free and independent.  The hard place: the prospect of a guaranteed relationship with a good guy with a good career, something that I know for a fact her own mother emphasized in her mother's support of me as Ileana's boyfriend.  Ileana was caught between those two irreconcilable options.  At times of difficulty and indecision on her part, I pointed this out to Ileana; thus, she can't say that she didn't understand the issue.

And the whole thing was a classic catch-22.  Ileana would go through major ups and downs (I could speculate as to the source/cause of those mood swings, but I won't do any more than put it out there for the reader to guess).  When she was in an anti-relationship phase, I would feel sad or scared that the relationship was going to end and that I had to "work harder."  (I laugh at that now).  I would "try hard," which would push her away even further, since that was a threat to her freedom.  Then, I would get the message and back off, which would then play into her insecurities and she would come back to me.  I also suspect that she came back out of guilt -- for having abandoned the relationship for whatever period of time and towards the end of the relationship (or perhaps much sooner) for having cheated on me with other men.  So her guilt and insecurities would bring her back to me -- the shittiest reasons for a woman to ever come back to a man.  And the whole thing continued like that for months.  It was an emotional disaster, especially as more and more time went by.

As I wrote above, one of us should have ended the relationship at the year-and-a-half mark, when we returned to Philly from Costa Rica.  That trip was so horrendous that I haven't been back to Costa Rica since then.  It left such a sour taste in my mouth -- I didn't have any fun with Ileana.  The whole trip was a stressful debacle.  Her lack of any sense of humor or ability to have fun killed the trip.  And playing myself into that serious mood and emotional tenor, I was very critical towards Ileana during that trip.  As I said, it was a disaster.  We should have broken up then, but my lack of sense and her failure to overcome her fears kept us in a paralysis for the next year -- requiring that we each do some really shitty things to each other to finally wake our senses to the reality of our dysfunctional, toxic relationship.

As I look back now, I can live with the lessons learned from that failed relationship.  I'm happily married now, with none of the issues that marred my relationship with Ileana.  What does bother me is that around that time frame of late 2010 to early 2011, the negativity and seriousness and lack of sense of humor of Ileana -- and my relationship with her -- began to effect my mood and humor.  And I do not think I've fully recovered my own sense of self since then.  It's something that I've talked about recently with my wife, Jeannie.  I read through old emails and facebook posts from before November 19, 2010 (to pick a mile-marker): I was funny, I was light-hearted, I didn't take myself too seriously.  But after March 29, 2011 (again, simply to pick an easy mile-marker), I'm not so funny, I'm angry much more than I care to be, I often have little patience, and I'm quite serious (and I have a lot more gray hair).  In short, I can't stand what I've turned into.  I know that negative and challenging experiences at work have played to a certain degree into this transformation, but I place the main onus and cause on my relationship with Ileana.  And that's the part that still makes me angry (ironic, right?).

I really want a fresh start.  I pray to God for another transformation, this time a positive one, a return to basics, to the real me: someone funny and light-hearted and witty and sarcastic and playfully immature.  Fortunately, God has blessed me with a wonderful wife, who makes me laugh sometimes and who laughs at almost all of my silly jokes.  I've also been blessed with a beautiful daughter, Seva, who has already helped to bring out the playful side of me, and will hopefully continue to do so as she gets older and turns from a baby into a little girl.  I've only been free from my toxic and hurtful relationship with Ileana for just over two years.  I know that I shouldn't expect changes to come so soon.  But I hope (and pray to God) that, come 2015, 2016, and beyond, my true self shines forth and I can reclaim my happiness in life.  I trust that these were hard lessons that I needed to learn, to value the importance of commitment and reciprocity in a mutually respectful and mature relationship and to finally grow up.  Still, I just want to be happy, not just in the moment that I do something silly or enjoy a fun moment with Jeannie or Seva, but deep down in the core of my being.  I'll be patient and hope that God hears my prayer and answers me.

In the meantime, dear reader, I hope this post clarifies to you who I am these days.  If you know me and I've hurt you in any way over these last three years, I hope you understand better where I'm coming from.  And I hope that you will forgive me.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Short Post for a Late Night

I just got off the phone with my sister Jess, so I don't have much time to post this before midnight.  So I'll keep it short.

Seva has been smiling socially more and more.  She definitely recognizes Jeannie and me when she sees us.  I don't really have any point of reference, but I've been very impressed with the strength of Seva's legs.  She can stand up straight, with just a little reinforcement, more for balance than anything else.  She also strongly prefers to be held rather than left to sit alone; I wonder if this is a precursor or indication of her level of attachment to Jeannie and me.  I guess we'll find out over time.

A stray mother cat recently gave birth to kittens in our small strip of backyard.  It's a slim, mostly gray tabby cat with four kittens.  The mother cat picked a little cove under a small tree-like weed growing against the gray wooden-slat wall at the back of our property.  For the past few days, I periodically peer over the edge of the wall surrounding our sunken patio to check on the status of the mother cat and her kittens.

Costa Rica played England to a 0-0 draw today.  And thus, Costa Rica won their group.  By doing so, they're now scheduled to play the runner-up of another group, Greece, in the first game of the next round.  Jess just told me that game is scheduled to be played this coming Sunday afternoon.  I'll certainly be watching.

I've been making very slow progress with my latest book, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez.  The book is chock-filled with many interesting and flavorful details.  The writing is exquisite and top-notch.  But perhaps my attention span, though probably longer than many my age and younger, is still shorter than required for this type of book.  I blame my generation and the culture I live in (as I type this with my tongue in cheek).

Finally, just for posterity's sake, I just want to reiterate that I love Rocky & the Baby very much.  I still love petting the Baby and playing with Rocky.  I love when they "talk" to me by meowing.  I love observing them when they're napping peacefully.  I love that they've been my companions since February 2005.  I love them so much and I'm so thankful that they're a part of my life and I'm a (very major) part of theirs.

Sorry for the Delay

We haven't had internet access at home for about three weeks, thus the delay since my last post.  I got sick of Comcast repeatedly trying to raise their rates for cable and internet without offering any additional service.  Why would anyone in their right mind pay more money for the same amount of the same thing?  The only exception to the obvious answer is if you are paying for a limited (or more to the point, diminishing) commodity, which of course cable and internet are not.  So, we switched to DirecTV and Verizon FiOS.  And so far, we're happy.

So, what can I say about the last three weeks?  On Sunday, June 8th, Jeannie and I got confirmed at the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul.  Archbishop Charles Chaput conducted the confirmation.  Just before it was my turn, I bowed slightly before the cathedra (throne, or chair, where the archbishop was sitting).  After the archbishop confirmed me, he shook my hand, to which I said, "Thank you, Your Excellency.  May God bless you."  Jeannie was confirmed right after me.  It was a very nice ceremony, though it lasted a very long time due to the large number of mostly children receiving their confirmation.  Afterwards, knowing that it was too late to go home and cook dinner, Jeannie, Seva and I went to dinner at Asia on the Parkway.  It was a beautiful evening, so we dined al fresco.  Mentioning Seva reminds me that she slept through the entire ceremony; that in itself was a blessing.

But the spotlight was on Seva just one week later, on Sunday, June 15th, when she was baptized by Father Ed at our church, St. Charles Borromeo.  Once again, though, even with the spotlight on her, Seva did a great job of maintaining grace under pressure.  Father Ed gave a warning to us that the baptismal water was cold, which initially shocked Seva, but only five minutes later she was sound asleep.  It was pretty funny.  Also funny was Father Ed's comment to us afterward, saying something to the effect of "you've run out of sacraments."  It's true that we've made a nice run on sacraments in the past few months: our marriage, Jeannie's first communion, our confirmation, and Seva's baptism.  I guess we get to be regular parishioners now.

The other recent event that's been exciting has been the 2014 FIFA World Cup.  I could go on and on about the World Cup matches so far, but I'll avoid that temptation for now.  All I'll say is that I've very much enjoyed watching the matches.