How is it possible that on this, the eve of the 2008 presidential election, there are still people who say they are undecided? Hey you undecided voters...do you...
...make the waiter come back to the table six times before saying, "Oh, take my order last" because you can't pick something for dinner?
...have clothing in varying shades of gray and black because you can't decide on any other color?
...wear out your remote control because you are unable to settle on a TV program?
...like both Coke AND Pepsi?
...think "Paper or plastic" is a conundrum that must be carefully considered?
...still drive a '94 Accord because you can't decide on a new car?
If you haven't figured it out by now, you are not going to have some great epiphany in the next 24 hours. So, just listen and do what I say:
Have a grilled chicken sandwich and a side salad with vinaigrette, drink a Coke, tune your TV to CNN, bring your own d@mn bag, put on a blue t-shirt, and drive the Accord to your polling place so you can cast your ballot for Obama.
You're welcome.
Decide to pay attention!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
This is different...
I remember a conversation I had in college with my then-boyfriend. We mused about how different life must be for someone who is extremely good-looking. What would it be like to stand out in the crowd? Living in the U.S., I have always blended into the population. In the few months I have been here in Mexico, I have gotten a little taste of what is it like to look different. And I'm not sure what to think about it...
It's not that I have gotten better looking, or have been doing anything different in recent months; it's that Mexico City has a very homogeneous population. Virtually everyone here is Mexican with the stereotypical dark-brown eyes, black hair, and tan skin. There is not a lot of ethnic diversity. I am a blue-eyed, brown-haired, pink-skinned American freak who also happens to be 4 or 5 inches taller than the average Mexican woman. As a result of this, I garner a lot of attention from Mexican men. Every day as I walk to work, men on the street openly stare. Some try to talk to me. (It's probably better that I don't understand what they are saying...) Cab drivers honk "wolf-whistle" horns. (No, not kidding!) At the Starbucks in my building, every guy working there knows me, knows what drink I want, and will usually stamp my frequent-flyer card twice when I am paying. The three men who work at my hotel know me by name, and I am fairly certain one of them wants to date me. Then there was that occasion where I had to keep removing a coworker's hand from my knee at a happy hour.
At first, I was really offended by the open stares on the street, and a little put off by some of the other attention I was getting. Then I found it amusing. Now I hardly even notice. Sadly, it is easy to get used to this kind of attention (however creepy it may be). Each time I return to Dallas, I get a reality check. It is a bit deflating to have a man look right through me or let a door slam in my face. So, I guess I'll 'enjoy' the novelty here in Mexico as long as it lasts!
Mexican men are paying attention!
It's not that I have gotten better looking, or have been doing anything different in recent months; it's that Mexico City has a very homogeneous population. Virtually everyone here is Mexican with the stereotypical dark-brown eyes, black hair, and tan skin. There is not a lot of ethnic diversity. I am a blue-eyed, brown-haired, pink-skinned American freak who also happens to be 4 or 5 inches taller than the average Mexican woman. As a result of this, I garner a lot of attention from Mexican men. Every day as I walk to work, men on the street openly stare. Some try to talk to me. (It's probably better that I don't understand what they are saying...) Cab drivers honk "wolf-whistle" horns. (No, not kidding!) At the Starbucks in my building, every guy working there knows me, knows what drink I want, and will usually stamp my frequent-flyer card twice when I am paying. The three men who work at my hotel know me by name, and I am fairly certain one of them wants to date me. Then there was that occasion where I had to keep removing a coworker's hand from my knee at a happy hour.
At first, I was really offended by the open stares on the street, and a little put off by some of the other attention I was getting. Then I found it amusing. Now I hardly even notice. Sadly, it is easy to get used to this kind of attention (however creepy it may be). Each time I return to Dallas, I get a reality check. It is a bit deflating to have a man look right through me or let a door slam in my face. So, I guess I'll 'enjoy' the novelty here in Mexico as long as it lasts!
Mexican men are paying attention!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Why was I born in America? Any way to change that?
I am watching the U.S. vice presidential debate right now. Sarah Palin just pronounced "nuclear" as "nucular". She looks like she is in the interview section of a beauty pageant. "I just want world peace...you know, for the kids..."
What is wrong with us? How did we get so stupid? The best example of this is the recent collapse of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac (they sound like your great aunt and a dish prepared with elbow macaroni, don't they?) and the bailout the taxpayers will have to shoulder. This makes me mad...
It makes me mad because so many self-indulgent people couldn't delay their gratification long enough to have enough money to really afford their house in an obvious real estate bubble.
It makes me mad because people don't know how to read well enough to figure out that the word "ARM" on your mortgage document is not talking about the link between your shoulder and your hand.
It makes me mad because people let mortgage brokers and real estate agents tell them how much house they could afford.
It makes me mad because I actually looked at the reality of my income and bought a lot less expensive house than I could have "afforded" according to my mortgage qualification.
It makes me mad because I make my mortgage payment on time every month.
It makes me mad because my bank failed last week.
It makes me mad because all the taxpayers (even the ones who make their mortgage payment on time every month) will be penalized for this.
And, finally, it makes me mad because, for the first time in my life, I am truly embarrassed to be an American.
Before the rant begins let me say that I have sympathy for people who have lost jobs or are in default of mortgages due to circumstances beyond their control. However, I don't think they are in the majority...so here goes...
I think we are regressing to the 1970s...an unpopular war...high gas prices and shortages in some places...economic ruin...and, perhaps in the near future, high marginal tax rates. I mean, $700 billion is not getting paid back with the tax rates we have now. No matter who wins in November, there must be tax reform. Anyone who truly believes that our current policy favors the middle class must also be interested in buying some oceanfront property in Arizona. McCain may own some, but he isn't sure. Our tax policy disproportionately taxes income from labor (wages, self-employment) over income from capital (dividends, capital gains). (I know...I'm a tax accountant...I get really worked up about this stuff...indulge me.) My favorite example of this comes from a tax return I was peripherally involved in preparing a number of years ago. The taxpayer had a multi-million dollar adjusted gross income for that particular tax year. My adjusted gross income for that same year was under $100,000. The multi-million dollar taxpayer's effective tax rate was about 15% due mostly to the preferential dividend and capital gain rates. My effective tax rate was over 20% because nearly all my income was wages and self-employment income. If you add to that the 7.65% I pay in FICA and Medicare payroll taxes, my ETR was almost 30%. (Not even going to discuss self-employment tax here...) Oh, yeah, Mr. Multi-million doesn't have to pay payroll tax because, well, no payroll, only investment income. Granted, the multi-million-man paid more actual cash tax than I did. However, why do I get to keep only 70 cents on the dollar as a solidly middle-class salaried employee and Mr. Multi-million gets to keep 85 cents? Would someone like to argue this with me? Please, I am dying to know why my effective tax rate is higher than someone making over 20 times more than I do.
The last time I checked, we were supposed to have graduated, progressive tax brackets based on ability to pay. But instead, the Shrub pushed through tax cuts that disproportionately benefit the extremely wealthy. (If I start on the inheritance tax, I will be typing all night. I'll stick to income taxes for this rant.) And people don't want to lift these preferential tax rates. It's curious. This seems to be related to the mind-set that got us into this mortgage mess. I believe it is called "The American Dream". I think a lot of people fail to realize that The American Dream is a possibility, not a birthright. We may not actually have money. But we deserve it, because darnit we are American! So, let's just act like we have money. You know, fake it 'til you make it. We'll charge everything to credit cards, lease fancy cars, and buy houses we can't really afford. Oh, and since there is a chance that we might really be wealthy some day (somebody has to win the lottery, right?), we better keep those tax rates in place.
Many of these people also pronounce "nuclear" as "nucular".
IRONY ALERT! How many times do you hear republicans go on about smaller government? How many of these same republicans are having their @$$es bailed out by...the GOVERNMENT on this mortgage takeover? I think if you are republican and you believe in small government that doesn't "interfere" with the people, you should politely decline the bailout and pay back your mortgage in full tomorrow. You saved all that money in tax with those 15% preferential tax rates, right? What do you mean you don't have any home equity or savings? You are homeless now? Gee, too bad so many shelters had to close during the Bush reign... Well, I would give you a couple bucks so you can get a piece of cardboard and a Sharpie to write "HOMELESS PLEASE HELP" while you sit on the corner of Mockingbird and Central. But, I only get to take home 70 cents on the dollar, so I'm a little short.
No matter how unpleasant, keep paying attention because it's history in the making!
What is wrong with us? How did we get so stupid? The best example of this is the recent collapse of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac (they sound like your great aunt and a dish prepared with elbow macaroni, don't they?) and the bailout the taxpayers will have to shoulder. This makes me mad...
It makes me mad because so many self-indulgent people couldn't delay their gratification long enough to have enough money to really afford their house in an obvious real estate bubble.
It makes me mad because people don't know how to read well enough to figure out that the word "ARM" on your mortgage document is not talking about the link between your shoulder and your hand.
It makes me mad because people let mortgage brokers and real estate agents tell them how much house they could afford.
It makes me mad because I actually looked at the reality of my income and bought a lot less expensive house than I could have "afforded" according to my mortgage qualification.
It makes me mad because I make my mortgage payment on time every month.
It makes me mad because my bank failed last week.
It makes me mad because all the taxpayers (even the ones who make their mortgage payment on time every month) will be penalized for this.
And, finally, it makes me mad because, for the first time in my life, I am truly embarrassed to be an American.
Before the rant begins let me say that I have sympathy for people who have lost jobs or are in default of mortgages due to circumstances beyond their control. However, I don't think they are in the majority...so here goes...
I think we are regressing to the 1970s...an unpopular war...high gas prices and shortages in some places...economic ruin...and, perhaps in the near future, high marginal tax rates. I mean, $700 billion is not getting paid back with the tax rates we have now. No matter who wins in November, there must be tax reform. Anyone who truly believes that our current policy favors the middle class must also be interested in buying some oceanfront property in Arizona. McCain may own some, but he isn't sure. Our tax policy disproportionately taxes income from labor (wages, self-employment) over income from capital (dividends, capital gains). (I know...I'm a tax accountant...I get really worked up about this stuff...indulge me.) My favorite example of this comes from a tax return I was peripherally involved in preparing a number of years ago. The taxpayer had a multi-million dollar adjusted gross income for that particular tax year. My adjusted gross income for that same year was under $100,000. The multi-million dollar taxpayer's effective tax rate was about 15% due mostly to the preferential dividend and capital gain rates. My effective tax rate was over 20% because nearly all my income was wages and self-employment income. If you add to that the 7.65% I pay in FICA and Medicare payroll taxes, my ETR was almost 30%. (Not even going to discuss self-employment tax here...) Oh, yeah, Mr. Multi-million doesn't have to pay payroll tax because, well, no payroll, only investment income. Granted, the multi-million-man paid more actual cash tax than I did. However, why do I get to keep only 70 cents on the dollar as a solidly middle-class salaried employee and Mr. Multi-million gets to keep 85 cents? Would someone like to argue this with me? Please, I am dying to know why my effective tax rate is higher than someone making over 20 times more than I do.
The last time I checked, we were supposed to have graduated, progressive tax brackets based on ability to pay. But instead, the Shrub pushed through tax cuts that disproportionately benefit the extremely wealthy. (If I start on the inheritance tax, I will be typing all night. I'll stick to income taxes for this rant.) And people don't want to lift these preferential tax rates. It's curious. This seems to be related to the mind-set that got us into this mortgage mess. I believe it is called "The American Dream". I think a lot of people fail to realize that The American Dream is a possibility, not a birthright. We may not actually have money. But we deserve it, because darnit we are American! So, let's just act like we have money. You know, fake it 'til you make it. We'll charge everything to credit cards, lease fancy cars, and buy houses we can't really afford. Oh, and since there is a chance that we might really be wealthy some day (somebody has to win the lottery, right?), we better keep those tax rates in place.
Many of these people also pronounce "nuclear" as "nucular".
IRONY ALERT! How many times do you hear republicans go on about smaller government? How many of these same republicans are having their @$$es bailed out by...the GOVERNMENT on this mortgage takeover? I think if you are republican and you believe in small government that doesn't "interfere" with the people, you should politely decline the bailout and pay back your mortgage in full tomorrow. You saved all that money in tax with those 15% preferential tax rates, right? What do you mean you don't have any home equity or savings? You are homeless now? Gee, too bad so many shelters had to close during the Bush reign... Well, I would give you a couple bucks so you can get a piece of cardboard and a Sharpie to write "HOMELESS PLEASE HELP" while you sit on the corner of Mockingbird and Central. But, I only get to take home 70 cents on the dollar, so I'm a little short.
No matter how unpleasant, keep paying attention because it's history in the making!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
My dad is the best!
My dad was kind enough to make a contribution to help me raise money for Susan G. Komen for the cure (see next post for the link if you too would like to make a donation...I digress...). I mean, he was fabulous before making this contribution, of course. But here's one of those things that makes him even more fabulous. He left this message on the webpage with his anonymous donation:
"Hi Sweetheart, Good luck on your fundraiser. It's tough raising charitable contributions in a Bush recession. His faith based initiative to solve the humanitarian needs in this country doesn't seem to be working. Love Dad "
Based on this, it should come as no surprise that both of my parents are a wee bit to the left of center. OK, maybe more than a wee bit. Perhaps...um...'bleeding heart liberal' is a more apt description. I mean, their version of 'a house divided' came last year when my dad supported Edwards and mom was going to volunteer for Hillary's campaign. (So, they are bleeding heart liberals with losing records...but you've gotta admire their conviction...)
No matter who wins in November, I guarantee there will be a few entertaining political discussions when my brother and I visit over Christmas. My dad will come up with an incendiary comment about Bush/Cheney (or McCain/Palin if, heaven forbid, they should win the election). Then my mom will say something silly and fluffy followed by something brilliant about the current or future administration and their policy. My brother will make a witty comment about something he saw in San Francisco (where he lives) or Paris (where he visited this summer). Then I will weigh in on the belly of the beast...uhhh...I mean Texas and what people say there. Good times at Christmas dinner...
(Confession: Even though I do not want McCain/Palin to win this election, I am really enjoying all the Palin-bashing entertainment. I mean, dress a moose? Will she give it one of her silly up-dos too? And let's not even get started on the whole lipstick thing. You cannot make this stuff up! The good people of Alaska have been holding out on us...)
Pay attention, because my mama's for Obama! (Papa is too, but it doesn't rhyme...sorry Dad...)
"Hi Sweetheart, Good luck on your fundraiser. It's tough raising charitable contributions in a Bush recession. His faith based initiative to solve the humanitarian needs in this country doesn't seem to be working. Love Dad "
Based on this, it should come as no surprise that both of my parents are a wee bit to the left of center. OK, maybe more than a wee bit. Perhaps...um...'bleeding heart liberal' is a more apt description. I mean, their version of 'a house divided' came last year when my dad supported Edwards and mom was going to volunteer for Hillary's campaign. (So, they are bleeding heart liberals with losing records...but you've gotta admire their conviction...)
No matter who wins in November, I guarantee there will be a few entertaining political discussions when my brother and I visit over Christmas. My dad will come up with an incendiary comment about Bush/Cheney (or McCain/Palin if, heaven forbid, they should win the election). Then my mom will say something silly and fluffy followed by something brilliant about the current or future administration and their policy. My brother will make a witty comment about something he saw in San Francisco (where he lives) or Paris (where he visited this summer). Then I will weigh in on the belly of the beast...uhhh...I mean Texas and what people say there. Good times at Christmas dinner...
(Confession: Even though I do not want McCain/Palin to win this election, I am really enjoying all the Palin-bashing entertainment. I mean, dress a moose? Will she give it one of her silly up-dos too? And let's not even get started on the whole lipstick thing. You cannot make this stuff up! The good people of Alaska have been holding out on us...)
Pay attention, because my mama's for Obama! (Papa is too, but it doesn't rhyme...sorry Dad...)
Monday, September 15, 2008
Shameless Plug -- Please Donate!
I am running the Dallas White Rock Half-Marathon in December to raise money for Susan G. Komen for the Cure. If you would like to donate, please go to my site:
https://www.active.com/donate/komenvirtualteam/MBirmin3
Thanks...that is all...
https://www.active.com/donate/komenvirtualteam/MBirmin3
Thanks...that is all...
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I know, I should be the bigger person here...but NOT ANYMORE!
***WARNING: Meggie getting petty here...read at your own risk***
I just set up a profile on Facebook, and have been reconnecting with many people from high school and college. It's truly an amazing thing, and I am sure the 17-year-old that thought it up is a multi-billionaire now. As I was looking at the homepage of one of my old H.S. buddies, I saw the profile of one of the "popular girls" among her friends.
Now, a quick bit of background info here. I was not exactly a member of the "popular" set in high school. Let's see, orchestra, A.P. Calculus, German...yeah, I was a giant dork. (You're saying to yourself, "Was a giant dork?") I know I am stealing this (credit to the original author, though I do not know her), but high school girls either get to be pretty or smart. Since I went through an awkward phase that started at age 11 and ended in about 2006, I was not considered "pretty". And, given the honors math, violin case, "Ich spreche etwas Deutsch", etc etc etc, I landed in the "smart" category. I have now decided that the "smart" category is the better place to be.
I looked at this girl's profile picture, and began to laugh. This girl, who was on the drill team, and probably in the Homecoming court, and one of the "mean girls", and treated me like cr@p through high school (and jr. high, for that matter), based on her "pretty" status...well...NOT ANYMORE! HAHAHAHA! The years have NOT been kind. She. Was. FAT. (Again, rolling on the floor laughing.) I didn't add her as a friend, and for all I know she is a hugely successful investment banker married to a doctor with 2.5 perfect children, a mansion in the suburbs, and a brand new BMW (to go with that extra 50 pounds...hope you have the suspension checked!). I KNOW that I am being hideously catty here too. Bad Meggie, bad! But I just couldn't resist the smug sense of satisfaction I had when I saw that karma had caught up with her a$$. I also feel a sort of redemption in realizing that all I had to do was stay the same. (I weigh within 5 pounds of what I did at 18...at 36. And I grew an inch in college.) (Ooh, just realized that 36 = 18 x 2. Ouch.) I guess it is more difficult to destroy smart than it is pretty... (And, yes, maybe I am a wee, tiny bit bitter...ahem...sorry...)
(DISCLAIMER: If she has some horrible medical condition or has to take some medication that caused her to gain a ton of weight, I am dreadfully sorry. But she looked pretty healthy to me...)
Gotta go get fluent in Spanish. (Or at least, marginally less illiterate in Spanish.)
Still paying attention...
I just set up a profile on Facebook, and have been reconnecting with many people from high school and college. It's truly an amazing thing, and I am sure the 17-year-old that thought it up is a multi-billionaire now. As I was looking at the homepage of one of my old H.S. buddies, I saw the profile of one of the "popular girls" among her friends.
Now, a quick bit of background info here. I was not exactly a member of the "popular" set in high school. Let's see, orchestra, A.P. Calculus, German...yeah, I was a giant dork. (You're saying to yourself, "Was a giant dork?") I know I am stealing this (credit to the original author, though I do not know her), but high school girls either get to be pretty or smart. Since I went through an awkward phase that started at age 11 and ended in about 2006, I was not considered "pretty". And, given the honors math, violin case, "Ich spreche etwas Deutsch", etc etc etc, I landed in the "smart" category. I have now decided that the "smart" category is the better place to be.
I looked at this girl's profile picture, and began to laugh. This girl, who was on the drill team, and probably in the Homecoming court, and one of the "mean girls", and treated me like cr@p through high school (and jr. high, for that matter), based on her "pretty" status...well...NOT ANYMORE! HAHAHAHA! The years have NOT been kind. She. Was. FAT. (Again, rolling on the floor laughing.) I didn't add her as a friend, and for all I know she is a hugely successful investment banker married to a doctor with 2.5 perfect children, a mansion in the suburbs, and a brand new BMW (to go with that extra 50 pounds...hope you have the suspension checked!). I KNOW that I am being hideously catty here too. Bad Meggie, bad! But I just couldn't resist the smug sense of satisfaction I had when I saw that karma had caught up with her a$$. I also feel a sort of redemption in realizing that all I had to do was stay the same. (I weigh within 5 pounds of what I did at 18...at 36. And I grew an inch in college.) (Ooh, just realized that 36 = 18 x 2. Ouch.) I guess it is more difficult to destroy smart than it is pretty... (And, yes, maybe I am a wee, tiny bit bitter...ahem...sorry...)
(DISCLAIMER: If she has some horrible medical condition or has to take some medication that caused her to gain a ton of weight, I am dreadfully sorry. But she looked pretty healthy to me...)
Gotta go get fluent in Spanish. (Or at least, marginally less illiterate in Spanish.)
Still paying attention...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
I'm going to start looking for locusts soon!
There is a biblical rainstorm brewing outside and the power just twinkled out for a moment. ¡Hola Ike! Actually, not sure if it is residuals from Ike or just another thunderstsorm. At the current precipitation rate, however, I starting to wonder if my coffee table would make a seaworthy vessel.
Acts of God aside, this weekend is a big holiday weekend here in Mexico. Many of my coworkers took off Friday, Monday, and Tuesday to travel for Mexican Independence Day. I think it is equivalent to the 4th of July in the U.S. The streets and buildings have been draped in red, white, and green all month. (I especially like the red, white & green pinwheels on each table in the food court of my building -- complete with Mexican flags pasted to the center! Note to self: take one.) I wonder if there will be a parade down the middle of Reforma...hmm... It is nice to know that Americans aren't the only people in the world to get this excited about their national independence day.
Sadly, though, my impression of Mexican politics has been quite different. I was talking to one of my friends here last weekend, and told him some of the latest on Sarah Palin. (Aside: still wondering if McCain actually met the woman before putting her on the ticket...did he think her daughter just had a serious muffin-top problem? I digress...) My friend seemed surprised that I had any interest in politics. Evidently, Americans are world-renowned for political ignorance and apathy. I asked my friend if he kept up with politics in Mexico. Although he does vote, he doesn't have a lot of faith in the system here, citing corruption as a rampant problem. Another of my Mexican friends told me not to even bother with any politicians because it is all "fiction".
I understand where they are coming from. Yes, there is corruption in politics. That is not unique to Mexico, and the U.S. is not immune. Yes, politicians make promises they know they won't keep. How long has the republican party been promising to overturn Roe v. Wade? I do not believe that it will ever be overturned. It drums up enormous support for the republicans when they start ranting about saving the babies. (No, the republicans do not have a plan for how to feed, house, or clothe those babies when they get here...unless food, clothing, and shelter are going to 'trickle down' from the big corporations...is that "The Hand-me-down Theory of Economics"? Again, digress...) But no matter what your political beliefs, I think it is of dire importance that every eligible person exercise their right to vote. Yes, you may have to wait in line. Yes, you may live in a state that will go to the Republican/Democratic party no matter what. I have three words for you: suck it up. I live in Texas. I think I was one of approximately 7 people in the Lone Star state to vote for both Gore in 2000 and Kerry in 2004. In 1992, the first presidential election after I turned 18, I drove over 60 miles in the state of Kansas in the pouring rain leaving at 6:30AM to wait in line for 45 minutes to vote for Bill Clinton. I think it may have been uphill both ways. Kansas has gone republican consistently since...well...before 1980...and 1992 was no exception. My point in that exercise was that the election was for the highest office in the land, and it was important, even if I wasn't on the "winning" side of Kansas's electoral votes. (Plus, George H.W. is a ninny.) (The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.)
Well, the rain has finally slowed down here. I didn't intend for this post to be a tiny political storm of its own. But, there we are.
One last thing -- why is it that I can get the Minnesota/Montana State college football game, but can't get Monday Night Football with my cable here? Hey Sky Cable -- if I wanted to watch soccer, I would live in...wait...never mind.
Keep paying attention!
Acts of God aside, this weekend is a big holiday weekend here in Mexico. Many of my coworkers took off Friday, Monday, and Tuesday to travel for Mexican Independence Day. I think it is equivalent to the 4th of July in the U.S. The streets and buildings have been draped in red, white, and green all month. (I especially like the red, white & green pinwheels on each table in the food court of my building -- complete with Mexican flags pasted to the center! Note to self: take one.) I wonder if there will be a parade down the middle of Reforma...hmm... It is nice to know that Americans aren't the only people in the world to get this excited about their national independence day.
Sadly, though, my impression of Mexican politics has been quite different. I was talking to one of my friends here last weekend, and told him some of the latest on Sarah Palin. (Aside: still wondering if McCain actually met the woman before putting her on the ticket...did he think her daughter just had a serious muffin-top problem? I digress...) My friend seemed surprised that I had any interest in politics. Evidently, Americans are world-renowned for political ignorance and apathy. I asked my friend if he kept up with politics in Mexico. Although he does vote, he doesn't have a lot of faith in the system here, citing corruption as a rampant problem. Another of my Mexican friends told me not to even bother with any politicians because it is all "fiction".
I understand where they are coming from. Yes, there is corruption in politics. That is not unique to Mexico, and the U.S. is not immune. Yes, politicians make promises they know they won't keep. How long has the republican party been promising to overturn Roe v. Wade? I do not believe that it will ever be overturned. It drums up enormous support for the republicans when they start ranting about saving the babies. (No, the republicans do not have a plan for how to feed, house, or clothe those babies when they get here...unless food, clothing, and shelter are going to 'trickle down' from the big corporations...is that "The Hand-me-down Theory of Economics"? Again, digress...) But no matter what your political beliefs, I think it is of dire importance that every eligible person exercise their right to vote. Yes, you may have to wait in line. Yes, you may live in a state that will go to the Republican/Democratic party no matter what. I have three words for you: suck it up. I live in Texas. I think I was one of approximately 7 people in the Lone Star state to vote for both Gore in 2000 and Kerry in 2004. In 1992, the first presidential election after I turned 18, I drove over 60 miles in the state of Kansas in the pouring rain leaving at 6:30AM to wait in line for 45 minutes to vote for Bill Clinton. I think it may have been uphill both ways. Kansas has gone republican consistently since...well...before 1980...and 1992 was no exception. My point in that exercise was that the election was for the highest office in the land, and it was important, even if I wasn't on the "winning" side of Kansas's electoral votes. (Plus, George H.W. is a ninny.) (The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.)
Well, the rain has finally slowed down here. I didn't intend for this post to be a tiny political storm of its own. But, there we are.
One last thing -- why is it that I can get the Minnesota/Montana State college football game, but can't get Monday Night Football with my cable here? Hey Sky Cable -- if I wanted to watch soccer, I would live in...wait...never mind.
Keep paying attention!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
What am I doing in Mexico?
(The scene is my office. It is mid-afternoon on a random day of the week in late May. In walks Reese, a senior manager in my department with whom I work quite frequently. He shuts the door and sits down across the desk from me...)
Reese: Hey, how's it going?
Me: Fine. Uh, what's up?
Reese: How would you feel about going to Mexico?
Me: I always say I will go wherever this firm wants to send me...except I won't move to Houston. My hair can't take the weather there. Do I need to go to Monterrey to meet a client or something?
Reese: Um, no, how would you feel about going to Mexico for four to six months?
Me: Oh. Hola. I don't speak ANY Spanish.
(This is so true! I have been here for 2 months now, and I can still barely order food in a restaurant. Rosetta Stone LIES!)
Reese: That may not be a problem.
Me: Okay. Would it be in Monterrey?
Reese: Nope. Mexico City.
(At this point, I was starting to wonder how this was happening. How I, the biggest white-bread, pasty-faced WASP on the planet, was about to be deployed to the depths of the Mexican capital. I had no idea...)
Me: Oh. Okay, sure. When?
(Yes, the decision was just that easy. As a divorced, childless career gal, the only living thing that depends on me for survival is my lawn. And my lawn has been around longer than I have, so I think it will make it.)
Reese: Probably July 1st through around Thanksgiving.
Me: Well, I guess I better renew my passport then!
(I know, this makes me the stereotypical American. My passport was about 4 years out of date, which is getting close to 'unrenewable'. It was always on my 'to-do' list...'renew passport'...right after 'wax car' and before 'run first marathon'.)
Reese (eyes widening in disbelief): Yeah, um, you better do that. Maybe get that going today? I'll let the department head know you are interested.
(Exit Reese...)
And, about six weeks later, I got off a plane at Juarez airport in beautiful Mexico City to embark on what has been one of the most interesting and eye-opening experiences I have had. When I say "beautiful Mexico City", I am not being facetious. It is really one of the neatest cities I have visited. And when I say that, it is not because I've only been to St. Louis, Cleveland, and Omaha or something. I lived in New York for two years, and have visited Tokyo, (and Sapporo, Osaka, Kyoto, etc...tour of Japan) Frankfurt, Seoul, Vienna, as well as many other American cities like Chicago, Miami, and Boston. (Although I have been to St. Louis, Cleveland, and Omaha and they are lovely cities. Go Cardinals! And Cavs! And...um...KC Royals AAA team!!!) So, I have a standard for comparison here. And I gotta say that I genuinely have fallen in love with this city.
Except...one thing.
People here insist upon speaking this strange tongue. They call it...Spanish. (Actually, they call it "Espanol" with the squiggly thing over the 'n'. I call it Spanish.) When I was in high school, we had the choice to take French, German, or Spanish. Spanish was, of course, the most popular language because people thought it was "easiest". French was #2 because so many girls want to go to Paris. German was a distant third because, hey, it's got three genders, more cases than you can shake a stick at, and the verb usually goes to the end. Well, ach du Lieberhimmel, what do you think I signed up for? Ja, Deutsch. It actually served me well when I went to Austria for 2 months the summer between my senior and senior years of college. (Five years...what is it Senior 1 & 2? Senior and senior senior?) But not so much here. Unfortunately, when my brain tries to access the area for 'languages other than English', German is all it can lay its lobe on. As a result, when addressing some unsuspecting Mexican shopkeepers, I have launched into "Ich moechte...er...I would like...er...yo quiero...I DON'T SPEAK SPANISH PLEASE HELP ME!"
Thankfully, it seems that the good people of Mexico City are a fairly helpful bunch. And many people here speak very good English. Even if they can't understand a thing I am saying, they can usually point and play charades enough to communicate with the gringa. I know I am the 'ugly American', and I really am trying to learn. But, once the brain has hardened at age 30-something, it is difficult to become functional in a language you have never studied in the span of a few months.
Gotta go practice some Spanish. Hasta luego!
Oh, and pay attention...
Reese: Hey, how's it going?
Me: Fine. Uh, what's up?
Reese: How would you feel about going to Mexico?
Me: I always say I will go wherever this firm wants to send me...except I won't move to Houston. My hair can't take the weather there. Do I need to go to Monterrey to meet a client or something?
Reese: Um, no, how would you feel about going to Mexico for four to six months?
Me: Oh. Hola. I don't speak ANY Spanish.
(This is so true! I have been here for 2 months now, and I can still barely order food in a restaurant. Rosetta Stone LIES!)
Reese: That may not be a problem.
Me: Okay. Would it be in Monterrey?
Reese: Nope. Mexico City.
(At this point, I was starting to wonder how this was happening. How I, the biggest white-bread, pasty-faced WASP on the planet, was about to be deployed to the depths of the Mexican capital. I had no idea...)
Me: Oh. Okay, sure. When?
(Yes, the decision was just that easy. As a divorced, childless career gal, the only living thing that depends on me for survival is my lawn. And my lawn has been around longer than I have, so I think it will make it.)
Reese: Probably July 1st through around Thanksgiving.
Me: Well, I guess I better renew my passport then!
(I know, this makes me the stereotypical American. My passport was about 4 years out of date, which is getting close to 'unrenewable'. It was always on my 'to-do' list...'renew passport'...right after 'wax car' and before 'run first marathon'.)
Reese (eyes widening in disbelief): Yeah, um, you better do that. Maybe get that going today? I'll let the department head know you are interested.
(Exit Reese...)
And, about six weeks later, I got off a plane at Juarez airport in beautiful Mexico City to embark on what has been one of the most interesting and eye-opening experiences I have had. When I say "beautiful Mexico City", I am not being facetious. It is really one of the neatest cities I have visited. And when I say that, it is not because I've only been to St. Louis, Cleveland, and Omaha or something. I lived in New York for two years, and have visited Tokyo, (and Sapporo, Osaka, Kyoto, etc...tour of Japan) Frankfurt, Seoul, Vienna, as well as many other American cities like Chicago, Miami, and Boston. (Although I have been to St. Louis, Cleveland, and Omaha and they are lovely cities. Go Cardinals! And Cavs! And...um...KC Royals AAA team!!!) So, I have a standard for comparison here. And I gotta say that I genuinely have fallen in love with this city.
Except...one thing.
People here insist upon speaking this strange tongue. They call it...Spanish. (Actually, they call it "Espanol" with the squiggly thing over the 'n'. I call it Spanish.) When I was in high school, we had the choice to take French, German, or Spanish. Spanish was, of course, the most popular language because people thought it was "easiest". French was #2 because so many girls want to go to Paris. German was a distant third because, hey, it's got three genders, more cases than you can shake a stick at, and the verb usually goes to the end. Well, ach du Lieberhimmel, what do you think I signed up for? Ja, Deutsch. It actually served me well when I went to Austria for 2 months the summer between my senior and senior years of college. (Five years...what is it Senior 1 & 2? Senior and senior senior?) But not so much here. Unfortunately, when my brain tries to access the area for 'languages other than English', German is all it can lay its lobe on. As a result, when addressing some unsuspecting Mexican shopkeepers, I have launched into "Ich moechte...er...I would like...er...yo quiero...I DON'T SPEAK SPANISH PLEASE HELP ME!"
Thankfully, it seems that the good people of Mexico City are a fairly helpful bunch. And many people here speak very good English. Even if they can't understand a thing I am saying, they can usually point and play charades enough to communicate with the gringa. I know I am the 'ugly American', and I really am trying to learn. But, once the brain has hardened at age 30-something, it is difficult to become functional in a language you have never studied in the span of a few months.
Gotta go practice some Spanish. Hasta luego!
Oh, and pay attention...
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