Despite my original attempt to dedicate today to studying Evidence Law and the 20+ exceptions to the Hearsay Rule (a joy, that), my daughter-in-law came over last night and brought with her nearly a gabillion dollars of product from the Flower Mart in downtown L.A.

It was directed that my law books be shut, and I take upon the duties of cutting soaked green foam, to be placed in ornate pottery, for the purpose of holding the flowers in place.

Amy told me to remove from our fridges the unnecessary clutter inside that was preventing tulips from residing there (silly me, I had stocked them with food), and now Jessica is on pace to create 58 centerpieces that, for my taste, appear to be cabbage surrounding ivy. They will be used at some fashion show event in Beverly Hills, that I will be allowed to hear about but not go to.

Thus enters yet another chapter in the lives of our oldest son and his wife. He details the finest cars in the South Bay and I can't afford the price he charges for a rinse down, and she provides parties to the rich bitches in Palos Verdes and I would use half a month's pay for her to decorate a table for four.

I want their lives.