Archive for the ‘Life with Tom’ Category

Oye Sonia, what’s the big deal?

June 7, 2009 - 1:59 am No Comments

Riddle me this one.  

Who among you will tell me that a Latina woman, with the wealth of my experience, cannot arrive at a better conclusion than a white man?  Who has the cojones to challenge this assertion?  

I have to remind my white gringo husband I am always right all the time.  So he delivers one of his beloved little nuggets of wisdom: “Honey, it’s better to be kind than right.”  

In what universe?

I’m with Sonia 100%.  Does that mean I can’t be a judge in this country?

Hiding From The UPS Store Guy

May 21, 2009 - 11:16 am No Comments

So – I was recently ripped off at the UPS store. A perfect little scam, which can easily be undetected or explained away as simple error.

I took a few pieces of oversized mail to be metered at the UPS store, the employee faithfully metered and placed them in his bin, then presented a receipt from the register. I never even thought to ask to see the mail again to compare it to the charge. The store makes the difference, and you never see the stamp, so you assume the charge for your oversized envelope is what you are asked to pay.

In this case, we are only talking about a few extra dollars per letter – $4.80 instead of the $2.35 of the meter mail. I had two larger envelopes and was charged about $5 for each.

I would not have noticed the “thumb on the scale” tactic – but for the fact that one of the letters was returned to my mailbox for lack of postage — it needed a few more cents. (!) I still had the UPS receipt, and I compared the charges. That’s when I noticed that I was ripped off.

I went back to the store and spoke to the same elderly attendant, who would not look at me in the eye, and sent the letters overnight UPS “on the house” to make me happy. As this was above and beyond the service I required, I was satisfied, and I could tell at this point he just wanted me to go away. (Why is it that I evoke this instinct in people?)

I really did not understand how an employee could benefit from such a scheme, since at the end of the day the amount collected would still match the amount received from the client. The only one that would benefit would be the owner, or indirectly, the employee because he can show higher sales and get promoted?

Who knows.

I did not frequent the store for a long time until this morning I had some items laminated and was attended by a younger man who had a name tag with the title manager under it. I told him that I wanted to relate something that happened to me in the store that made me very unhappy.

As I was speaking to him, I noticed the same older man who had scammed me come out from the back of the store. So the manager and I stepped outside to speak. I explained the situation and let him know I did not understand how anyone but the owner could benefit from this scam, one client at a time and with the right need for specific services that lend themselves to hard to detect overcharges.

“He IS the owner,” he said.

Great! So now I find myself speaking to the employee of the cheating owner. Probably lucky he has a job at all and I put him in this impossible position. I may have been righteous and unkind in my choice of words. No obscenities, but things like: “Once a cheater always a cheater…” may have come out of my mouth.

Whenever I experience a situation like this in which my judgement may be clouded by my unusual righteous tendencies, I like to check in with Tom. As I related the story, of course, he was not pleased, but was able to articulate another point of view. This is his gift.

First of all, he questioned, quite seriously about the need I have to go stir trouble, and what benefit do I personally derive from it? Second, whenever you enter into a monetary transaction, you have to be diligent, and you do have a choice to go to another store. Third, what if the guy is losing his home or his store, and doing whatever it takes to keep his people employed. So he scams the pretty lady with the nice ring a few dollars at a time. Everyone does it, right?

“So that makes it right and we should just roll over?” I cry out, grasping for any justification that comes to mind.

“No”, he said, “but you choose your battles,” he said. “Life is beautiful. Time is limited. What is the benefit?”

Tom went on to detail how people are on edge, and a client accusation to an underling that embarrasses a potential loose canon with a mental illness is all it may take to send the guy postal and have him show up at the front door to “chat”. They do, after all, have all of our personal information.

Notable previous Geri jihads included displaying righteous indignation against a Pakistani parking lot manager while I had the two kids in tow to obtain a well-advertised hotel/parking promotion; trespassing on desolate private property just to see the historic boat house we know must still exist when you are out walking alone (and no one knows where it is); breaking and entering into an apartment we owned against the advice of our attorney because the renter owed us money; the list goes on and on…

All are probably not good decisions to simply satisfy spontaneous quests for experiential knowledge.

So now I am home alone, with locked doors, and hiding from the UPS store owner…

Many people speak passionately when asked for their testimony. Mine came quietly on my kitchen floor, when I asked God to come into my life, rescue me from these sinful behaviors, guide me through whatever road I have left, and save me from myself, and the insidious impulses that drive me to make wrong decisions that sap time and beauty from life and may ultimately endanger our family …

Quoting Tom

April 26, 2009 - 8:54 am No Comments

Every week or so I find myself on the other side of a pensive husband who still likes to share his wisdom nuggets. This week it was: “The frequency at which I get laid is inversely proportional to the square footage of the place in which we live.”

I am afraid there is a studio efficiency in my future…

Anything I want?

March 24, 2009 - 9:31 am No Comments

So, it’s inevitable. At some point your beautiful little boys will be interested in T & A.

In a household where TV, YouTube, and video games are highly monitored, and access to information is on a need-to-know basis, all you need is a trip to Buenos Aires to defenestrate all your well-established home regulations.

(Ok – I am showing off my newly acquired Latin – defenestrate – an honest to goodness real English word that means – to throw out the window. But I digress…)

Any stroll down this busy city of 12 million people will invariably give us plenty of topics to talk about. We like to think of them as “teachable moments”, a phrase of late much in vogue thanks to the media’s characterization of President Obama’s Special Olympics sound bite. Thank Goodness it was not Bush or it would have been another “impechable moment”! (Again, I digress..)

Argentina’s very popular Calle Florida, a walkable open air mall with a variety of shops, artisans and musicians, also features plenty of Vegas-styled hookers handing out printed cards with boobs and phone numbers.

As we are accustomed to answering our kids’ questions honestly, we had the whole prostitution talk and how it’s illegal in many countries, albeit also known as the oldest profession.

So Thomas spots a huge poster of a scantily clad beauty holding a key and asks, “Mom, is this a prostitution house?” No, it’s a locksmith. Prostitution houses are illegal here and in the States, except for Vegas.

“Can we have her make us some keys?” No, she’s not actually in there. “The girl in the undies is just so people notice that there’s a locksmith here,” I clarify. Explaining the whole “sex sells” concept to a curious 11-year old is easy when his eyes pop out whenever there’s pretty women around.

“So, what will the girls do in those Vegas houses?”
Anything you want.
“Anything?”
Yes.
“Well, if I go there then I’ll ask her to start making dinner.”

Later on, we went to a food court and the topic came up again. “I’ve had dreams about women,” stated Thomas. “Really?” says Dad. “Do tell!”

“Well, there was a girl cleaning my house and I told her: ‘Now do the oven,’ and I showed her the oven. ‘Then do the floors’, and I showed her the floors. And she just looked at me funny and said, ‘I want to do you’. Then I kind of freaked and I woke up.”

Lunch, $22. Souvenirs, $8. Having your child calmly recite his first erotic dream… Speechless.

Teaching our Children

February 20, 2009 - 1:52 pm 3 Comments

“I don’t have the patience to do that. You are a saint that you can homeschool,” said my good friend. WHAT? Anyone who knows me well knows I am the most impatient person alive today. It may be part of my OCD, but I am an instant gratification person. I move quickly, sometimes not so accurately, prefering to do things over rather than take the time to think it through first.

Tom says that I’m tactical not strategic. My mother says: “El que no tiene cabeza tiene que tener buenos pies”. Roughly translated, “If you do not use your head, you have to be prepared to use your feet.” But I digress.

How is it that we have been convinced that we are not capable or do not have the patience to teach our children? Starting from the tender age of 6, they are expected to get up, get on a bus, be in school for 8 hours, keep track of all the different subjects, deal with all the incredible variety of social challenges that may arise, interpret the world and make the right decisions, put it all in context, come back on the bus, tell us about their day, and do homework for what in many cases seems like an eternity.

Then when we try to help them with homework and they don’t get it, or rebel and act up, we are frustrated and lose our patience. The poor little guys have been overstimulated for ten hours, and now they are supposed to do busy work at home? What did they do for 8 hours in a classroom? The expectation that all this work has to be done in the short time they remain awake and on weekends saps any possibility of play and meaningful interaction with mom, dad, siblings and friends. It affects the relationship between parents and kids in a negative way. Parents become frustrated and feel they have no patience, and kids get mad, act up, and are sent to their room.

Many end up resenting it all and do not learn to love learning – which is what education at such a tender age should be all about.

So now that the economy is in the toilet, and our schools continue to move in the direction of quantity vs. quality – and the images and influences thrust upon our young children all day long become increasingly disturbing — I urge parents who care to take back the education of their kids and make them smile again.

I understand not all of us are meant to homeschool – but there are other options. What else would we do? Half of us have already lost our jobs or are worried about losing them. This is a time to get creative.

Over the years, homeschooling has developed a negative connotation and many of today’s politicians are making sure that it stays that way. In my humble opinion, homeschooling is not a barefoot overly religious pregnant woman trying to teach eight kids about creationism.

Simply stated, homeschooling means that the home is directing the kids schooling.

Bottom line, we have been brainwashed to abdicate our children’s education to the state. This social experiment has obviously failed on many levels. It is exhausting us all, and creating many social misfits.

Today homeschooling has millions of inexpensive options that can be easily tailored to each individual family and child within that family. There are also thousands of curriculums on every subject, public-private partnerships, online programs such as K12 and many organizations such as the YMCA and park districts throughout the country have recognized the need for extracurricular activities and created programs to serve home schooled children accordingly.

Teachers and trainers are consistently amazed at how responsive, respectful and polite many of these home schooled children are. Why? Simply because they have not been taught that it is okay to be any other way.

Homeschooling is not weird any more.

So … Pick up your stuff and move to a beautiful, less expensive area where they are not taxing you for a failed public school system and go back to the basics. Tap the resources of your community and begin to enjoy what life with your family can and should be.

Appreciate all you can learn from your children while you are helping them navigate through this crazy world.

You know you’re old when…

February 15, 2009 - 12:01 pm No Comments

You pinch a nerve in the back of your head. What the hell? I have heard the expression many times, but I definitely had no idea. One minute you are smiling at the new day – the soft gleam coming through the window, thinking about the coffee and all you will accomplish. The next second you are in excruciating pain and totally immobilized. I never did have to spell excruciating before. With a c? Interesting. But not worth this pain at all.

So of course Tom, who as usual has been working since long before I open my eyes, has to chime in with his endless words of support. “How’s it going over there?” he chirps. “You need any help getting up?” Of course not, this will pass. YIKES! “Ah my honey, are you having an I’m getting old moment?” Perfect.

After a few minutes the mental agony of being stationery surpasses any pain my body has to endure and I am vertical, with a little help from my life partner, who props me up. But I cannot turn around. “So I guess jumping back in the sack and making wild passionate love to me is out of the question?” It’s like that little voice in your head, the evil one on your shoulder that keeps taunting you. I can’t even laugh. I turn my whole body around, cannot even move my head a mm. “I guess that answered my question. Huh Huh” When did Beavis take over my bed.

“Take three of my advil.” OK, walk to the bathroom, get the water bottle, slowly, still in pain, CRAP! Can’t get my hand up to my mouth. Three little pills are so far away. I try a few times. It is surreal not to be able to lift my hand up to my mouth. It just stops short a few inches.

“Huh, Huh…Oh…”

Place pills into right hand. Good. I reach. CRAP. Can’t tilt my head back. How did taking advil become such an ordeal?

Just when my elbow was getting over its little four month strike. Tennis elbow I was told. And I have finally found a hair color that is close to the original, after six years of trying. Now this.

Well, at least I still have my health. Do I?

High in the Thin Cold Air

February 13, 2009 - 1:12 am No Comments

We are really enjoying our time living at 10,000 feet.  There really is not much to do, but every time you open the door, the air is crisp and the setting is absolutely beautiful.  We are spending our time skiing and schooling.  Tom, of course, is constantly working.  He does not have a desk or even a den to hide in, so he sits in this old chair in the bedroom and when he is on the phone he paces from the window to the washer/dryer, to the bathroom and back.  It’s hard to believe, but he has been very productive.

The boys have settled into our routine quite nicely and they are really very focused on their studies.  Every day they do a math lesson and a grammar lesson, and we try to cover all the rest at least five times a week.  I keep thinking I am turning them into little geeks what with all the history, literature and Latin, but they really seem to enjoy it.  

We are deep into King Arthur, and each day they beg me to read at every break and meal.  They have turned the entire living room, which is tiny, into a giant medieval battlefront, with the occasional storm trooper wanting to bring up a quest of its own here and there.  They really are enjoying all the beheadings, which is a little disturbing.

I seem to be much more in control of my odd quirks and pet peeves here.  The place is small and highly manageable, and everything is where and as it should be.  No laundry accumulates, I have time to cook all three meals, even time to get creative, and the kitchen is always immaculate.  I have time to keep up with the school work and find interesting additional material online.  I have even been making fires.

The one thing I have noticed is that I can’t seem to get worked up over anything.   There just isn’t enough oxygen for that.  I got a little upset on the phone the other day, and found myself hyperventilating.  I wasn’t even moving!  Also, if I get excited and start talking a little too much or too fast, I am soon out of breath.

After a few episodes, Tom decided that, if nothing else, this is definitely a good reason to consider moving here.  “So you can’t talk a lot and you can’t be bitchy…  Where do I sign?”  Never a dull moment…

Lucky me! I met the dreamy black Harvard attorney…

November 17, 2008 - 10:36 pm No Comments

So what are the chances, that on the rare occasion that my family flies together and one of us has to sit on our own, (lucky me) I get to meet the one and only!  Well, not only, as apparently there are two of them.

Yes, I met the handsome, tall black lawyer that looks amazingly like Obama, although I am quite sure this one’s about a foot taller. He walked down the aisle and sat next to me on the plane while Tom and the boys were a few rows behind.  He was quite friendly, and introduced himself right away, and we did not stop talking for about two hours.  

It was a little weird at first because I thought I was talking to the President-elect, but he was so candid and amiable that I immediately felt comfortable.  He was on a health kick, eating only raw things and it was slightly amusing to watch him pour all kinds of powders on his salad, and in his various drinks prior to consumption.  He carried with him a gallon-sized ziploc baggy filled with natural and organic substances which could not be farther removed from the perpetual colon cancer diet I follow (that would be colon cancer producing diet) on a daily basis.

He mentioned that he has been told that he has an uncanny resemblance to Barack, (“You don’t say…”) and that since Barack announced his candidacy people stop him and ask him questions.  Then when they find out he graduated from Harvard Law school, they are dumbfounded.  He was wondering how he could capitalize on it, and has decided to buy billboards on buses with his photo and a tag line like: “YES WE CAN… get you the money”. Call your own Harvard attorney today!

No really, I am not that creative.  One cannot make this stuff up!

Mr. X, as I will call him to protect his identity, as I know he will be famous soon, is in search of a new career.  He has big plans, perhaps a book, or a life coaching business, the “Innate Success Institute” (ISI for short), and this housewife had fun tapping into my old marketing brain to give him some pro-bono advice. I did let him know that he was a publicist’s dream, and then proceeded to spend a healthy amount of time detailing why.  

I am sure we will be in touch soon, and I could not wait to tell Tom about my great conversation with this intelligent, kind, hard-working, driven, and beautiful man.  “Don’t bother”, he said.  “I think the whole plane knows about it!”

Excellent…

 

Living in cyberspace…

November 16, 2008 - 10:58 pm No Comments

So Tom got me a new mac that’s all compact and cute.  The keyboard is backlit, and the screen has a nice black frame around it.  Sharp.  Then he went out of town.

So here I was, kids down, and I am in bed playing around with my new toy, and I kept hearing this little bell ringing.  Not a big deal as I tend to ignore non-threatening noises…

Turns out it was Tom trying to video chat with me, but since I had no clue that I even had a camera on this thing, or what was going on, he took control of my desktop remotely somehow (how DOES he do these things…) and answered his own video phone call and accepted his own invitation to video chat with me while cyber-impersonating me – is that even legal?

This was all happening behind some of my open windows so I really had no idea what was going on but I was glad that the annoying little bell thing resolved itself on its own, as most non-threatening noises in my life tend to do.
 
I can’t believe I can even verbalize this shit!
 
All of a sudden I coudn’t access my mouse and a little square pops up with my picture — except it was live and I looked ugly and horrified, because I truly was since I thought the computer was possessed.
 
Much to my surprise my picture started moving as I moved … then I realized it was me LIVE and then Tom’s photo popped up on a bigger screen behind me and starts yelling at me asking me how come I was ignoring him and didn’t answer the phone.
 
I screamed before I started laughing… It all happened so fast.
 
I felt quite violated …