A Clueless moment

The other day I joined a couple of my coworkers for lunch. For some inexplicable reason, I asked one of the of the aides ( non-professional as per immigration standards) on which visa she came to the states. She explained that one of her family members petitioned for her. Then we talked about various visas, and I mentioned something about her and her home country of Ecuador. The conversation lasted a few more minutes and then lunch was over.

An hour or so later, I saw the aide again and all of a sudden it clicked. She was not from Ecuador but from El Salvador. Someone else in our lunch group was Ecuadorian. I pointed out my mistake to her and the Ecuadorian lady and asked why neither one of them corrected me. While they said that Ms Ecuador was smiling the whole time during lunch at my error, they didn't really explain why I wasn't corrected.

This incident reminded me a scene from Clueless where Cher told her housekeeper that she didn't speak Mexican. The housekeeper got upset and Cher's brother? had to remind her that the housekeeper is from Ecuador, not Mexico.

And though I found this incident amusing, I still ask myself - Why Didn't they correct me?

I think I'll keep my day job

While on maternity leave and nursing, I have some free time to read, watch the cooking channel, or eBay. Sometimes I choose eBay.

While pregnant, I managed to eBay and purchase too many items. So at this point in my life, I tried my luck as a salesperson and attempted to sell some of my maternity stuff. I listed one of the maternity dresses that I bought in a lot. I didn't wear it because it wasn't my speed and used.

The dress sold for an obscene $70. Albeit new it costs close to $200, I described the dress as having minor signs of wear, and I was naturally excited that it raked in so much. My excitement was somewhat short lived. Here's a condensed story in form of emails...

Sally Hazel (SH): hi, I sent you an invoice earlier today with two different shipping quotes (2 different services). Please let me know if you didn't receive it for some reason. thanks, Sally
[Paypal indicated that buyer was from London. After I emailed her an invoice, I received a 'request for total due'. I sent the above email as an explanation of my invoice.]

Buyer (B): Hi, I am now confused. Did you send me shipping quote for the US or the UK?I am now in the US NOT in London. Let me know and I'll pay straight away. Many thanks, Violetta

SH: Hi, I sent you a bill for your London address. Please change your address on Paypal and I'll be able to send you another invoice. sorry for the inconvenience, Sally

B: [Requested total from the seller]

SH: hi, I cannot change the bill until you change your address. sorry for the inconvenience. thanks, Sally

B: Hi, I've changed the address but it won't let me change the country! so now it seems as though canal street is in the UK... Hmm... Does that work? Thanks and sorry for inconvenience..Violetta

SH: hi, please confirm your shipping address. paypal is giving me a hard time. thanks, Sally

B: [emailed her address]

B: Hi,I just received the dress and I am unfortunately not at all happy with the condition. What you described in the listing as 'minimal piling present under arms' is in reality heavy piling, especially over the right breast, in very plain view. I wouldn't have minded light piling under arms but I think the dress is not at all in the condition advertised. Please advise as I wouldn't have bid $70 for a dress in such poor condition. Many thanks, Violetta

SH: hi, Sorry you aren't' happy with the dress. I thought I described it accurately ( I even asked a second opinion before listing it). Please ship it back and I'll refund your $. Or you can drop it off in Midtown during business hours if that would be more convenient ( let me know and I'll give the the exact address).Thanks, Sally

SH: I just thought of something else. If the dress fits you- to save you the time of returning and me of relisting the dress- you can bring it to cleaners to remove whatever piling bothers you. I'll issue you partial refund. Let me know if that's something that'll work for you, thanks, Sally

B: Hi, I'm sorry but in the condition it is in I don't think the dress is worth half what I paid for it, even if drycleaner managed to work miracles.I can come drop it off tomorrow. Could you give me an address? Also, would you refund Paypal? Many thanks Violetta

SH: No problem, I'll refund your account as soon as I get the dress . but since I didn't hear from you yesterday and my friend who works on Lexington only works Mon through Fri, please ship it. Thanks, Sally

B: Ehhhr... It's Saturday tomorrow so you wouldn't be able to receive it by mail before Tuesday anyway?!? I find your inflexibility disheartening. Oh well.

SH: Shrug. I'm bending over backwards to accommodate you with a return of an item which is normally not returnable ...I wasn't able to reach my friend for exact address . I'll email you by Sunday with the address . Please return the dress by Mon between 9-5 business hours. Thanks, Sally

SH: My friend will be at work tomorrow from 8:00 till 5:00 with a break for lunch from 1:00 to 2:00. The exact address is ... You can call 212-...and ask for... - she will meet you in the lobby, if you do not want to come up. Thank you.

B: still awaiting your address for return. Please advise. I'd like to be done with this as soon as possible. Many thanks, Violetta

SH: I mailed you the address and Even her phone number yesterday. If I don't get the dress tomorrow I won't be able to take it back. Thank you, Sally

B: You have not emailed me anything yesterday. You said in your last correspondence with me that you would have sent me address on Sunday but you didn't.I DIDN"T, repeat DIDN'T, receive ANYTHING from you yesterday and I check my email several times a day.If this is a clever trick to avoid returning an inappropriately advertised item, then know that I will not hesitate in opening a Paypal/Ebay dispute and I will not hesitate in leaving you a negative feedback.Please advise as soon as possible as this is getting ridiculous.Violetta

B: I just saw this [the email with the address in the city] in my Ebay inbox. It was clearly sent today NOT yesterday.

SH: Please cancel this transaction [trying to recover the fee ebay charged for the sale that didn't happen].

B: Happy to cancel transaction after I receive the refund.Many thanks Violetta

B: Please advise Re: refund

B: I really think that as a gesture of goodwill you should have refundd the entire amount (USD 74.95).i'd like to remind you that had you been accurate in your description there would have been no need to return the item so it is really cheap on your part to not refund postage.

PS. I still await for the transaction to be cancelled and wonder why I felt any sympathy at all for pregnant cheep Violetta?

Why I shouldn't blog in the evenings

The lights are on but nobody's home. For quite some time now I've been so fatigued (though not SO fatigued as to go to sleep before 11ish PM) that I felt I can't write anything decent, or even 1/2 decent. But I didn't want to forget some of the things that I wanted to write about so I saved them as drafts.

A few evenings ago I felt more awake than usual and decided to make one of the drafts a post. But all I did was change the title. Then I realized I'm in no writing shape, so I closed the computer and went to do something else.

The following morning I had the following conversation with a friend:
F: Your short post generated comments.
I: Which post?
F: From last night.
I: Facebook update?
F: Blog.
I: The birthday one?
F: Wedding.
I: ( In disbelief and a bit horrified) That was a draft and I didn't publish it!
F: Well, it got two comments already...

I rest my case.

An antisemite next door...

I've been patronising the local nail salon for the past few years. I even know the names of the owner and a couple of the workers and wave hi to them whenever I just pass by.

Today, I came home early enough to pick up Eh and go for a mommy-and-me manicures. While in there, I decided to 'shape' my eyebrows as well. And right before my turn some teenage Jewish girl (or was she possibly in her 20s) paid $14 worth of services with a credit card. The owner made a big deal about that transaction -'we get 85c from dollar, next time bring cash', etc.

I thought that in such cases she shouldn't accept credit cards and followed one of the 'cosmetologists' to the back to get my eyebrows done. A couple of minutes later, apparently as soon as the credit-card-paying-girl walked out, the owner said "$14 pay with credit card, less tip. should bring cash. Jewish!" and some patron (later observed to be of African descent) responded " yea, that's how they get rich..." The conversation continued in the same tones for a few minutes.

I asked the cosmetologist taking care of my eyebrows, who also serviced the credit-card-paying-girl, if she wasn't tipped by the girl. And unless I grossly misunderstood the thick accent, she was tipped, from the same credit card. I also mentioned to her that the conversation in the front 'was not nice'. To her credit, the cosmetologist looked embarrassed.

As soon as I was released from the eyebrow shaping, I took my kid by the hand (who the whole time patiently waited to have to nails polished), paid for my eyebrows in cash ( leaving a cash tip for self and the kid before me), said that I no longer wish to paint mine or my daughter's nails in that place, explained to the owner in one G-rated sentence why I was leaving, and left.

I learned from a very young age that my nation is not a popular one. But until today, I still cannot believe the extent of stupidity of those displaying their dislike of my people...

I'm not from Moscow

I was standing in the check- in line in the airport with my kids in a stroller, when some grandma stood on my left with an obvious attempt to cut in. I politely told her that I have two carts full of suitcases besides the stroller but grandma didn't seem to budge. When the line moved and grandma (periodically joined by younger generation who brought in luggage) tried to wedge in, I again said that I was in line in front of her. The man behind whom I stood confirmed that.

Grandma's reaction? In an Eastern European accented voice she told me "It's ok. Since I'm not from Moscow, you can push ahead!"

Normally, I'd respond in kind. But my immediate reaction was "how does she know?"... A second too late I realized that she didn't, she was just trying to insult me. But the moment was gone. Well, that and her advanced age. So I just told her that I didn't want to miss my flight, either.

When hubby and luggage joined me, I couldn't stop laughing recalling this story. And I also wondered that people don't seem to need much to be snobs. Who knows, maybe the senior thought that Nazi Hungary was much more superior to communist Russia? Who am I to tell...

Oops!

In HS, I had a halacha teacher who used to give us demerits for talking. Then there was an economics teacher with a minus-point system - get even 1 minus point and no matter how high your average is you won't be exempt from taking finals.

And today, after all these years, I felt like I was in high school again!

Because of some bizarre circumstances, some gullibility, and some lack of basic thought, I had to be in court today. The court room was exceptionally hot, the wait even more exceptional, and I ( naturally) didn't bring any reading material with me.

The court clerk was a rather mean woman ( possibly with a heartburn?) who kept yelling at people to behave as they should in court. At one point, some grandpa's phone went off, loudly, twice in a span of 2 minutes, so the clerk confiscated the phone, turned it off, and said she'll return it after grandpa is done.

By this point, over an hour passed. I was bored and tired of waiting for my lawyer to show up. Then, my chatty friend whose whisper carries ( and who came along with me to court) got a seat right next to me and started talking about something or other.

And I almost jumped when I suddenly heard the court clerk right in front of me saying "You two, step out!". I probably should've been offended, or try to say that I won't do it again. But I couldn't stop grinning while I took my coat and stepped outside. And I'm still grinning as I type.

PS As we stepped outside, my lawyer showed up and told me that I can go. I wonder if the people inside that court room learned a valuable lesson: if you talk in court room, you'll have to step out, and not return for the rest of the day!

Unforgettable, that's what I'm not

Shabbat Chanuka I encountered a former classmate (high school). I came over. Said hi. Confirmed that she was who I think she was. She said she can't recall my name. I said it. She asked me if we went to seminary together...I, quite unnecessarily said, "high school".



My former classmate had a few kids around her...And for the rest of shabbat I had a recurrent and disturbing thought that maybe my pregnancy/childbearing-related memory loss is not as temporary as I hoped.

Historical week for Wall Street

Or so Bloomberg says.

But who would have thunk it-Lehman Brothers went bankrupb, Merrill Lynch bought out by Bank of America (would be they keep The bull on Wall Street?), America International Group (AIG) owned by the feds ( and 79.8 or so % is as good as owned). Morgan Stanley is hoping to be bought and soon. Nowadays one doesn't feel so bad about foregoing investment banking career. One still wonders re: benefits of used car salesperson as a second career...

Number 15 or the circle of life

Dentists number our teeth to make their life easier. Today, after putting it off for 35 months, I had to finally say good bye to my tooth # 15.

It started with an innocent cavity. The cavity progressed to a root canal in a couple of years. The root canal was just fixed and the tooth was filled. Then, when the dentist realized she can mild my insurance she convinced me to replace the filling with a crown "root canal means a dead tooth and without a crown it can chip at any moment"-and who wants a chipped tooth?
The crown lasted for a while until one day, while I was southbound on the West Side Highway, somewhere in the area of Chambers Street and happily chewing / making bubbles with my mint flavored Must gum, I realized that there is a foreign body in my mouth. A crown that popped off #15.

After getting over the initial shock, I put the crown in a napkin, swore off gum, and made an emergency appointment with my dentist. This dentist refused to use the old crown that the first dentist made ( because she, too, realized that she can milk my insurance for some USDs), and in a couple of weeks crowned my #15 with a new, weirdly feeling but porcelain-with-gold-beautifully-made cap. That lasted less than 1/2 year at which point I, 38 weeks pregnant, had to make another emergency dental appointment.

This time I went to a male dentist- he was trustworthy and didn't accept my insurance. He told me that the tooth was a gonner- not in the theoretical root-canal-equals-a-dead-tooth sense of the word but rather it-has-extensive-infection-and-bone-loss kind of a gonner. (And I bed the hyena who put on the new crown knew that, too). He sympathized with my situation, gave me an antibiotic and recommended to get rid of #15 ASAP.

I went to a factory of oral surgeons where one of the factory dentists with much less sympathy to my situation told me that #15 cannot be salvaged and he'll pull the it for 800 something dollars. And, I'll have to come back in a week to remove the stitches. "How about the stitches that dissolve?" "Those are not as good." " I'm 39 weeks pregnant, I can give birth any day." "Well, make up your mind."

I was pregnant, concerned for my little alien with an infection in my body. I was mourning the eminent departure of #15. Yet, I was even willing to shell out almost a thousand bucks just to get rid of my tooth and forgo the bad factory worker attitude. But regular stitches!?
I thought I'll risk it and just finish my antibiotics to quell the infection and take care of more permanent changes after my baby arrived.

My baby arrived and my tooth stopped hurting. And I figured a tooth inside the mouth is better than a tooth outside of the mouth. It hurt every 10 months or so, (the kind man-dentist retired, so) I went to a new dentist, heard the '#15's got to go' got my antibiotics, the pain would stop and the tooth's life 'd be extended. Until a few months ago, when due to unforeseen circs I went to yet another dentist with the same issue. He gave me antibiotics but said the tooth should go because I won't know when the it'll start hurting again and how serious it may get.

What do you know- last Friday and Shabbat #15 started hurting again. The pain was so severe that I couldn't really sleep ( with 2 painkillers in my system) motzaei shabbat, replaying the dentist's words, thinking that he must've given me the evil eye, desperately hoping I won't have to go to an ER on a long holiday weekend. And finally resolving to pull #15 out.

This morning, with lots of encouragement from hubby and my mom ( and hubby's kind company), I finally made it to the oral surgeons office. I almost backed out from pulling #15 after the xray was read. After all, the pain completely resolved already by Monday. It didn't even hurt when the dentist tapped on it. #15 was instrumental in my mastication and subsequent digestion. It and I went through so much together. I needed it, I'd dearly miss it.

But in the end, I just let it go. I took it home with me in a cup -it looked so big yet abused by dentistry. I acutely felt it's void in my mouth even before I started feeling very acute pain because it was gone. Now, thanks to time and pain meds, the acute pain is gone. I'll miss my #15 even if the advances of modern dentistry won't let its absence be palpable for long.

As I was writing this eulogy and listening to the Republican National convention speeches, I kept looking at the cup on my dresser and feeling the empty space in my mouth. Now, that the eulogy's completed I think I'm ready to say my final good bye to #15.

Poor Aim

I work in the department which is blessed with mostly male therapists. It's a rare luxury because typically you have a bunch of women with a couple of token men who are periodically asked to stand up or 'transfer' a heavy patient.

But this luxury isn't free. For the past month ( at least), I've noticed that our gym's bathroom's stunk of urine. The urine not only splattered pretty much all of the toilet seat but accumulated in messy puddles next to the toilet. I know that the detail may be excessive for some but I'm providing it to draw a more or less vivid picture of the event. Now, this is not the one and only toilet your truly can use but non the less, the situation was becoming more and more annoying.

So last week I decided to post a sign.

When I picked up the sign from the printer I tested it on a couple of people sitting at the nurse's station (just in case). They laughed. And asked why do I need the sign. After a brief explanation they seemed skeeved .

So, I posted the sign. I thought it was short and to the point.

Well, whatever point it was, it was lost on the shooter. There were absolutely no comments in the gym after the appearance of the sign. But sadly, there was no reduction in puddles either.

I even thought that maybe the location of the sign is wrong but the only better place would be to actually place it ON the toilet. Sadly it seems that the boy with the poor aim is also the one with poor attention to detail.

Maybe I should make the sign yellow for emphasis?

PS. Yesterday, when I was telling the story to one of my friends I suddenly deduced that the clumsy one among us is most probably my assistant.

I'll stop here. Peace

Uninhibited

Every so often I let my inhibitions go and tell people pretty much exactly what I think about them. It usually happens when I'm very tired which makes me moody which in turn makes me uninhibited.

For over a year now I work in a facility which has 14 ( fourteen) vice presidents, too numeous to count assistants to vice presidents ( aka managers), heck knows how many supervisors, etc.

Possibly because of this culture of glorification of status (a concept not exclusive to this facility but definitely embrased by it) this facility employs a lot of snobs who seldom respond to a greeting let alone initiate one, are not helpful to a fellow employee ( esp if s/he's a newby), refuse to share charts/desk space, and are otherwise mildly unpleasant.

After more than 1/2 year of employment I earned the honor of a returned greeting. I still happen to think it was only due to my perseverance and treating the situation as an amusing research. None the less I never know when any of now-friendly-collegues would set me up or stab me in the back while looking me in the eyes. Still, it doesn't usually bother me. As a consultant who has to come to a facility and 'fix' things I'm pretty used to people resenting, disliking, or trying to ignore me. The duration of those feelings or my assignment by this point in my life became pretty irrelevant.

Unless, I'm in a bad mood. Then those feelings are still irrelevant but I let the masses know that I'm aware of the situation.

So today, when I came into one of the conference rooms to get some coffee ( the cafeteria was already closed), I greeted the 6 people sitting there. No attention was paid to me. I poured myself some coffee and instead of just going on with my business I told the woman sitting closest to me that it seems that people only greet me when they need something. She looked at me and tried to politely dismiss my observation though I saw in her eyes a bit of discomfort. I just shrugged my shoulders and left.

A few minutes later when I came back to the conference room to retrieve a chart one of the nurses addressed me with " I have a question'. But instead of just answering her question I felt I was on a roll and told her that I just mentioned to Prem (sitting right there) that people only seem to greet me when they need something. The nurse blushes a bit. The dietician behind her raises her eyebrows all the way up to her hairline. Another nurse didn't seem to care one way or another. And the social worker ignored the whole thing: I guess no one was being discharged home from her unit this week.

A couple of hours later, when I was more awake and contend I wondered if it was necessary to shock the 'team' on that unit. I verbalized something they all knew but somehow verbalizing it during a meeting seems equivalent to cursing, saying something forbidden and obscene.

And now, when I finished typing this up and realized that it's alreayd 11:30P and I don't even remember the reason I decided to post this ( aka the moral of the story), I beging to wonder if I should sleep rather than blog.

Only time shall tell:)

May I help you please?

It's been a few months since I've been bestowed (if that's the expression I'm looking fore) with the honor and the pleasure of putting my daughter to sleep. As time went by, the ritual has become more complex rather than simplified ( which one would hope for since my baby's turned 2 and 1/2 today- yippy).

Anyhow, it involves reading book(s), +/- telling stories, +/- singing Eh's song, moma's songs, abba's songs, baby's songs, +/- singing stories, etc, etc, etc. I've recently discovered that if I park in my daughter's bed, I may not necessarily speed up the going to sleep process but I typically make it more comfortable for myself ( and take a nap as a bonus). To do this, I get into my lounge clothes.

Tonight, after about 45 minutes dedicated to the ritual I finally came to the kitchen to eat dinner. After being snuggled under a blanket for a while, airconditioned kitchen felt like a walk in fridge so I quickly put on the first available cover up which came to view. It happened to be my freshly washed labcoat with my name and rank on each side of the chest and my beeper, pens, and other miscellaneous goods in pockets.

I barely got a chance to sit down and eat when there was a long buzz. Silently cursing at a realization that I again forgot to put the sign "do not ring bell after 7 PM" I asked who's at the door. The voice replied "your neighbor, Connie Green." I thought I heard wrong because I couldn't remember any neighbors with that name combo plus I expected the usual mumbling for charity. So I asked again who's there and got the same answer. So I asked my neighbor to wait one minute, quickly looked for a buck and went to the door.

When I opened the door I'm not at all sure which one of us was more taken aback- me who saw my 'neighbor' or the neighbor who stuttered a bit with her (i'm sure much repeated) speech upon seeing me at the door.

I'm not sure whom my neighbor expected to see at the door, but I'm almost sure it didn't include a woman in a green headscarf, orange tshirt, brown skirt, betty boop fluffy slippers and a bit weathered white lab coat buttoned all the way down with a $ bill appearing ouf of one of the overstuffed pockets.

I wonder if it would scare her off from ringing strangers' doorbells after 9 pm?

I thought I knew you, what did I know?

I just realized that I can empathize with K fed who got a text from Britney saying that 'it's over'. But I digress. Here's my story of the week.


I got a text from our babysitter on Friday night (albeit I read and responded to it on Sat night) saying " Very important call me as soon as u get this text".

What can be so important that she sent me a text on Fri night? Why she couldn't just call? Did she get in trouble with the law and needed bailing out?! I was debating whether is was a good idea to call her at 9:45PM but then again, if someone needs bailing out, it's never too late.

I called her. With a wear voice she told me that her grandma is not doing so well and asked for the babysitter by name. So, she's flying back to her country ASAP. But, she's got number of 3 reliable and responsible young ladies to cover for her because she doesn't want me to be stranded.


In timesless words of Bertie Wooster " she could've knocked me down with an f".

I wished her luck and hung up. She even said she'd keep in touch and call back in a few days.

Hubby called her in the morning, asking for how long she's going, whether she needs help with her apartment, etc. She already said she planned on staying for a while, not sure when she's come back, the apt and the ticket are taken care of.

Her aunt, the original referral, called us later, apologizing. To make a very long story very short, our babysitter planned her emergency for at least a month. She disconnected her phone before noon on Sunday (I'm sure to ease the process of being in touch) and as far as we were concerned, vanished into thin air.

After working for us for a year, she didn't even care for a proper good bye, let alone at least a day's notice, closure, and all the other stuff our society seems to find important.

Who the heck watched my kids for a year, pretending so well to care?

One of the reasons I love the city

When Ed and I used to go out on the town, we spotted this establishment somewhere in the 50s. I think I took this picture near midtown tunnel ( they have more than one office?) or queensboro bridge?