WTF!!!!

 

 

Welcome to Fall! Wait, what did you think I meant???  Well anyhoo…..

It’s that time of year again. Summer time is quickly retreating into the sunset as our days get shorter and the temperature gets cooler. We put away the tank tops, maxi dresses and sandals so we can pull out the sweaters, light jackets and our favorite ladies…..BOOTS!!!!

But another huge change takes place along with the seasonal change. It is what my friend refers to as...”Cuffing Season”.  People all of a sudden feel the need to be a part of a “couple”. They begin to reach out, rekindle old relationships, make new connections all in the name of cooler weather.   

As the temperature begins to dip I have begun to receive some really interesting communications.  I logged into my email to find a message from someone that swore me off about 3 years ago.  I got a text message from someone who just a few short weeks ago felt the need to tell me all about his new girlfriend, even wanted to introduce me to her.  Let’s also not forget the abundance of “Hey, how’ve you been?” text messages that have come in from men I no longer keep in touch with regularly. 

What is it about the cooler weather that makes people believe that they need to be with someone? Is it the overwhelming urge to have someone around for extra body heat? Or is the lack of “options” due to the colder weather??  Either way this is shaping up to be an interesting fall. I’ll just sit back and indulge in the foolishness while I affectionately sip on a pumpkin spice latte ;)

In Memoriam

Sept. 11, 2001…no one will ever forget where they were, what they were doing and what they felt when those planes hit two of the grandest buildings in the world. 

It was my second day working part time for a structural engineering firm near Union Square as I worked towards obtaining my Master’s degree. I was excited because I so looked forward to the new school year and this new opportunity that was allowing me to focus on my degree.  The morning was absolutely gorgeous, the air was crisp and the sky was crystal clear. Still trying to get my bearings of the neighborhood I took the wrong train to work and as I walked up University Place towards Union Square I could hear the sound of a plane pass over my head. My initial thought was that the plane sounded a little too low, a little too close, however I was becoming a New Yorker, I dismissed it as a possible movie shoot and kept walking.

There was a man coming towards me and the look that spread across his face literally stopped me in my tracks – confusion, disbelief. I turned to see what he was staring at the looked into a perfect outline of an airliner in the side of one of the towers.  I had missed the initial explosion but there was the outline and a thin trail of smoke. At first people were confused, amazed and I watched as people ran in and out of the camera shop ahead of me to buy disposable cameras so that they can capture this unfathomable moment. 

I decide to continue my trip to work as I was only about a block or so away and as I approached the front of the building was almost flattened by one of the partners from the engineering firm as he ran into the street to view for himself what was happening.  Walking into the reception area I informed the receptionist what had happened and she looked at me in disbelief. As news spread throughout the office my co-workers gathered, hanging out of windows to catch a bird’s eye view of the action. It was not long after a second plane appeared then hit the second tower. That is when it sunk in that this was no accident. Panic set in, we began jumping online to see if there were any reports, trying to call loved ones but by that time cell signals had already been shut down and the land lines were so jammed that the chances of a call getting through were very slim. 

I managed to speak with a co-worker from the company in which I had just left, she lived in Jersey City and was looking for a way out as well. I told her that I had tried contacting my parents and couldn’t reach them and knew they were worried. She took their number and promised to give them a call. I would later find out that the call she placed to my parents’ home was the ONLY one that she managed to get thru successfully. This is when my journey began. 

As reality set that we were under attack the folks in my office were trying to decide how we were going to get out of Manhattan as the authorities had already shut down all mass transit.  It was noon when I left the office and headed uptown, on foot, towards my old office in search of my friend. I walked up from 11^th St. to 41^st Street via Lexington Ave.  It was a long, long, scary walk. Passing cars covered in debris, people walking around looking totally lost, the sirens, the soldiers beginning to walk the street I felt as if I was in the Twilight Zone. I finally reached 41^st St. only to find that my friend already left and headed home to I began my solo trek across town as the only way off the island was by boat. All transit had been suspended.

Walking thru midtown was surreal. It was eerily quiet and in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, I stood in the middle of Times Square. There was almost dead silence, no people, no cars, absolutely nothing, hell it was so desolate tumbleweed would have almost been appropriate. Everyone was literally running for their lives. I continued my trip westbound in hopes that I could get back to New Jersey.   

As I approached the Westside Highway I realized my journey was far from over. The line to the ferry back to NJ stretched from 41^st Street to 46^th Street and wrapped around 2-3 times over. What was really interesting was that the process was strangely orderly, there was no pushing and shoving, there was no hostility, everyone just fell into line and waited there turn. Reality had sunk in that we were in this together. 

I stood in line for several hours waiting for my turn to board a boat and made friends with the folks standing around me. Waiting with me was a newly engaged man who told me all about his fiancé as we waited and also a woman who escaped the towers with a nice sized gash in her shoulder that she earned as she fell down the stairs trying to run for her life. There were injured people, people covered in soot and we stood, together and shared our stories as we watched Manhattan turn into a war zone. There were F16’s flying over head and Hummers full of soldiers holding M-16s driving past, us racing towards what would used to be the site of the Twin Tower and would later be named Ground Zero. 

Finally it was time for me to board the boat. The constant chatter amongst the waiting passengers ceased and silence took over.  My emotions began to take control as I began to feel guilty for leaving the island knowing there were multitudes of people that were being left behind. Me and my two new friends stood together and watched Ground Zero burn in silence and we made our way across the water and after being dumped in Weehawken we said goodbye, wished each other well and boarded our respective buses to go on to complete our journeys home. 

My bus dropped me at Hoboken Station and I was then able to take a train back to my town and took the last few minutes of my walk home to soak in a bit of solitude. I will NEVER forget the look on my mother’s face when I walked thru the door, it was at that point that I knew that even though my friend had called to tell them that I was ok they still were not sure that I wasn’t dead.  

After talking to my parents for a while I went to bed. I slept for a while but the nightmares took control, the first of many that I would have for months to come. The next day even though I wished that the nightmare from the day before had actually been a dream, my aching body quickly reminded me that it had very much been a reality. 

I don’t tell my story often as I feel very silly doing so. I didn’t lose a loved one, matter of fact I didn’t know anyone that died. However on Sept. 11, 2001 my life changed drastically. That naïve, safe bubble I had been living in had been burst. The world had changed and NO ONE would ever be the same.   

So on this day of reflection I continue to pray….I pray for those that lost their lives in the Towers, in the Pentagon and in that field in PA. I pray for the heroes that gave their lives that day and continue to give their lives as they deal with the effects of working tirelessly at Ground Zero. I pray for the families of those who lost their lives. I pray for our armed forces as they continue to fight for our freedom and protection daily. And lastly I pray for myself….that one day I can finally be at peace.

Amen.

I must have stupid stamped on my forehead….

As a woman we often have to deal with the reality that we live in a very chauvinistic society. I work, pretty darn hard if I may say so. Therefore I bought a car, one that I thought I liked VERY much but from the time of purchase until now I have encountered numerous challenges dealing with this vehicle simply because…..I’m a woman.

When I decided it was time to buy a new car common sense did kick in. As independent as I’d like to be – I don’t know everything (shocking, I know) so I asked a male friend to accompany me to the dealership. I fell in love with a particular vehicle, my friend said mechanically it was fine, then I sat down to speak with the finance manager. I listened as this person, another woman, began to pick me apart, seemingly for kicks. She gave me an entire speech on how she couldn’t get me anything lower than a double digit interest rate, not because of my credit, but because supposedly my income-to-debt ratio was too high. I politely explained to her that I had attended two private colleges and hadn’t had any trouble obtaining a mortgage with that same amount of debt.  

What came next was completely unexpected. She launched into a whole tirade about people purchasing vehicles that they should not have, about how a mortgage is easier to obtain because you cannot hide a home (you do the math on that one), etc., etc., etc. It was then that I decided she would not profit off of this sale, I gathered my belongings and left.  

I did purchase the car but did not finance thru the dealership. Assuming this was a one- time incident I decided to continue my relationship with this establishment and maintain the vehicle thru their service department under the misconception that my customer loyalty would earn me great service. I had no idea what lay ahead.   

Since purchasing the car, I have been charged several different prices for brakes, been sold bad tires and the best was when I took my car in to have the “shifter bezel” (the piece placed around the gear shift that indicates what gear you’re in) replaced because one day while driving it just popped out of my console.  When I questioned the client service manager as to why something like this would happen on such a high end vehicle, his response? “You must be shifting gears too hard.”  Needless to say my attitude kicked into overdrive and I very curtly replied to him “In case you haven’t noticed – I drive an automatic, not a stick shift.” 

Now in what is my “last stand” with these jerks the gloves have officially come off. Unfortunately someone decided to run into my PARKED car one day while I was out running errands.  So I took the car to my body shop and the foolishness immediately started. The owner refused to give me a quote for the damage. His stance was, “I’ll take the car if the insurance adjustor comes to the shop and does the estimate here.” Whatever, so I take my car BACK to my dealership and got the quote I needed. The body shop manager put on the performance of a lifetime, acted like he was my advocate, informed me that he would go to bat for me if the insurance company didn’t give me enough money.   

So…after getting the check from the insurance company for the damages done to the car I dropped the vehicle off at the dealer to have the repairs done. As the body shop manager drew up my paper work he asked to see the estimate to verify that the cost of a new door was covered, I complied, it was definitely MY mistake. He handed me a scope of work that stated the car was having the damage to the left side of the car repaired and had me sign. At this time I asked him to also replace a light that was out which was indicated on the dash when the car is turned on. 

This is where it gets fun….next day I get a phone call from the insurance company stating that they are cutting me a check for additional funds to cover the extra parts needed to complete the scope of work. Now – let me point out here that the insurance company had already paid me about $700 more than the quote given to me so I was curious as to WHY the dealership needed more money and didn’t come and ask me.  Lo and behold they had taken it upon themselves to do EXTRA work to the vehicle that I didn’t ask for (remember – I have a copy of the scope of work that was supposed to be done).  I tell them anything beyond repairing the damages from the accident was not authorized and they were NOT to do any additional “repairs”.  The manager mumbled something about giving me a call back. I tried reaching him again that day and received no response.

Next day this jerk calls me and tells me that a lot of work had already been done and he still is going to charge me a bit extra than we agreed But the car was ready for pick up. I arrive to pick up my car after work and of course he’s gone. I ask to speak with someone and was led into a service manager’s office. He reviewed all of the paperwork and said he didn’t understand what had happened either because I clearly had a document stating the scope of work but unfortunately I had to speak with the body shop manager, he wasn’t of any authority to change the price and that he couldn’t release my car to me unless I paid the requested amount.

So I paid to have my car released to me because at this point it was a Friday evening, I didn’t want to be without my car all weekend AND I no longer trusted them with my vehicle.  After leaving the dealership I went to dinner with a friend and by the time we were leaving it had started to get dark.  When I turned on the car that’s when I noticed…..the light I had requested that the dealership to change was still out.  Now fuming I decided to inspect the entire car and found that my damaged mirror had been put back on the car. The only “repair” they had done to the mirror was washing off the other car’s paint.   

The following Monday morning I FedEx’ed letters to both their corporate offices and directly to the dealership requesting that this situation be rectified. I want a portion of my money to be refunded. I mean really? You charge me extra for work I didn’t ask for but didn’t bother to complete the scope of work that I DID ask you for. How does that work?  It’s been about 2 weeks and I haven’t gotten a response from the dealership at all.  Therefore it’s time to kick this fight into gear. 

What frustrates me the most about this situation is what I feel is blatant sexism. Had I been a man walking into this dealership I would have immediately gotten the respect that I deserve. I wouldn’t have to deal with any passive-aggressive banter about not knowing what I was getting into when purchasing a luxury car, selling me sub-par parts and offering half-ass explanations to my questions.

I don’t have a man paying my car note OR coughing up the cash for maintenance expenses so I should be treated with the same level of respect that they receive for these services.  And since I can’t get my way…..we’re heading to court. This WOMAN is coming for ya…….

 

 

 

All About Me.....

Navigating my way thru my 30’s I have developed this very acute awareness of this underlying expectation that people “my age” should have children. The looks, the questions, the confusion encountered regularly are disturbing to say the least. I don’t have the plague, I just don’t have children.  At “my age” I no longer romanticize the notion of giving birth to another human being. At “my age” I have come to recognize that this is a person, not a thing, not a pet. Life would change drastically, and suddenly I’d be responsible for molding someone into a functional/productive human being.  

No longer will I be able to just drop in to a happy hour after work with my co-workers. I will need a baby sitter to catch a movie on Sat. night.  I’ll have to sacrifice my designer handbags and shoes for diapers and daycare.

Babies grow into toddlers, then comes grammar school, pre-teens, then teenagers. Homework, school projects, ballet lessons, soccer practice, sick days, ER runs. They gain personalities, form opinions and somewhere along the line they swear they know more than you even though they are not paying a SINGLE bill in your home.  Moody girls, getting first periods and learning to navigate boys. Hormonal young boys, discovering and exploring their “junk”, aggression and trying to prove that they are the alpha male in the home. I’m not ready…..

One might think that my stance is really selfish HOWEVER I have been changing diapers and caring for children since I was 6 years old. Coming from a large family that was primarily raised in the south, you are expected to assist with younger siblings and cousins.  I gained a brother not long after I turned 6. From then thereafter I was “Mommy’s little helper”. It was cute because when he was born he was about the size of my Cabbage Patch kids, as far as I was concerned he was one of my dolls. 

The novelty of having a younger sibling began to wear off when he began to walk and get into my stuff, even more so when he became school age at which point it became my responsibility to be a third caretaker as my parents worked different shifts and there was a point during the day when neither were home. It wasn’t until I was a junior in high school that I was truly able to join an extra curricular activity at school because it was then that my brother became old enough to leave home alone for short periods of time.   

My junior year of high school was also when my goddaughter was born. I instantly fell in love with her and where I went, she went. She was my sidekick, my ace, my #2. Because of my love for this kid I became a “parent by default”. I loved her like my own and would give my right foot to make sure she had if her mom didn’t have it to give. I changed diapers, bought diapers, I’ve done 3AM feedings, wiped noses, tended to scraped knees, the birthdays, the holidays and most recently watched as she proudly accepted her diploma as a new high school graduate! All of this while trying to complete my own education and growing into adulthood myself.

With that said I feel like many newly liberated parents (actually I have for a few years) FREE!!  I can travel like I never have before, late nights, partying, coming home to a quiet home to a glass of wine and SLEEP!!!! I feel like I’m 18….so……therefore I’m hesitant to “start over”. I LOVE my life the way it is, the ability to come and go as I please and to worry about no one but ME!!!  I don’t feel the overwhelming urge to reproduce, to have someone walking around that looks like me, to be responsible for someone else. I am not married, I am not in a serious relationship and honestly there are things I have yet to do that will be hindered by having a child.

So for now, I won’t stress. I’ll enjoy my life. The shoes, the bags, coming home to a quiet house and a glass of wine after a trying day at work, I’ll travel to the ends of the earth if I can (you can tell I watch Pirates of the Caribbean right?). And IF I meet someone special before I am incapable of reproducing then MAYBE we’ll have a serious discussion about procreating. 

But until then….It is ALL ABOUT ME. Don’t believe me? Count the number of times “I” is referenced in this post ;)