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In other news, I spent Saturday night up in Seattle with Gwen, Pete, and some other friends from work. It was a fun night.

Today, I had off and so Pete and I went looking for apartments for me up in Seattle. I’ve decided that despite the hellish commute (60 minutes one way), I’m going to go ahead and move. I’ll never get another chance to live in Seattle again, I suspect. (If I ever return here, years after the army has its way with me, it would probably be family time and the middle of the city wouldn’t be ideal). So despite the fact that moving is a pain and the commute will suck, the thing is going down. I saw some nice places today. Nothing definite yet, though. It’s still a work in progress.

On one final note, I should mention that last week I talked to my dad about slick rick financial man (see earlier posts). After two meetings with the guy (his real name is Steve), I had decided I liked his ideas and wanted to subscribe to his newsletter. When I told my dad about it, he essentially flipped and told me it was a horrible idea. Then he proceeded to break Slick Steve’s plan down bit by bit and call the whole thing one step short of a scam. The discussion here was hilarious as I played devil’s advocate to my dad – sort of using the salesman guy’s lines to defend his plan, only half-heartedly at best, and mostly just to see what my dad would say in response. My dad took each argument apart systematically and emphatically and I really couldn’t have been happier. I never liked that slick, perfectly groomed man who was way to liberal with his use of the phrase “the Lord” (in a financial brief) and I’m glad that I won’t be giving him my money. Instead, my dad and I are going to work on a couple of things financially together (part of which actually would have been in Slick Steve’s plan only I won’t have to pay anybody for stuff my dad can do) and take a slightly different savings and investment avenue.

It’s funny, though, because I remember at the first meeting, Slick Steve asked me if I had a will. When I said no, he asked, “Well, don’t you love your dad?”

Sure do, Steve – he’s been steering me clear of shady, money grubbing slick-rick types like you my whole life. Find yourself a different sucker.

Hi five Papa Stup!