Problems With Our Second-Graders

Exhibit A: Typical second-grade humor

Since we seem to have lost our funny of late, we'll share a story from mini.

At baseball practice today, we were eavesdropping just hanging out and overheard her talking about what sounded like a joke with a friend.  All we heard was "see, a mom, a dad and a baby are on a plane..."

Bored and curious to hear what seven year-old kids find funny these days, we asked to hear the rest.  Apparently the mother dies on the plane, the baby disappears, and the father comes home, looking for the baby, only to find it sitting happily at home.

"How did you get home" asks the father?

The baby, apparently a prodigy, replies with a song, to the tune of "This Old Man".

"You went pfffftttt [insert loud fart sound]

I went zoom! [say in sing-songy excited voice]

That's how I got back so soon...."

We were of course, shocked.  Killing off the mother?  Letting the now-widowed father think his child is gone? Really? Poor taste and serious offensiveness aside, do we need to start educating you on the elements of story structure and how this has no relevance at all to the flatulent story they're trying to tell?

There's a clear answer to this problem.

We need to help our kids come up with better fart jokes.

Moin Moin Speaks

Follow the adventures of our new fuzzy friend as this sweet little lamb navigates the complicated world we live in today. 

Test your ability to spot SPAM!

It's real soup! Or is it.....?

As we've stated in the past, peeps, SPAM is getting smarter.  Below is a great example of something that we initially thought was spam, then realized it wasn't.  Then we realized it wasn't.  Then we started to wonder.  See how long it takes you to figure out if this is Spam or not!

Definitely believe that which you stated. Your favorite reason appeared to be on the net the simplest thing to be aware of. I say to you, I certainly get annoyed while people consider worries that they just do not know about. You managed to hit the nail upon the top and defined out the whole thing without having side-effects , people can take a signal. Will likely be back to get more. Thanks Also see my web site - foot pain

A Toast To 2012: The Year That Won't Suck

In thinking about our last post of the year, we struggled a lot with how to characterize 2011.

On the one hand, we could simply title this post: "Good riddance crappy 2011, hello 2012!" The end of the year is a time to take stock as all the "Best albums/fashion/dirty politicians/etc. of 2011" lists in the media remind us, and the only thing we're taking stock of this year is that if we ever have to go through another year like this past one we'll never make it.

New York has a population of over 9 million yet the city can sometimes be one of the loneliest places in the world. It's not a city with a built-in community. You have to find your own community, your own niche, and in a city with so many things going on that is easier said than done. And, if like most New Yorkers, you work 50+ hours a week, you barely have enough energy to go on seamless web and order your dinner, much less try and go out and talk to your neighbor. It's a sad cliche in life that you learn who your real friends are (or aren't) during tough times, and this year sadly re-proved that to be true. So as we take stock of things we cannot elaborate on: the disappointments, multiple near-nervous breakdowns, and lost friendships, we pause to observe that living in a city of 9 million strangers doesn't necessarily help with that. When you struggle you struggle alone.

But nothing is entirely black and white so to say last year was "crap" and leave it at that would leave many other things unacknowledged. This was also the year of our first writing successes. The year mini learned how to ride a bike and tie her shoes. And while we had our backs turned it was also the year mini evolved from an innocent young person to a toothless and beautiful young girl, fully immersed in the journey that is middle childhood.

And the loneliness? Turns out that despite living amongst so many strangers, sometimes New York can also feel like a small town. The school mini attends? A brand new community for both her and her mother. The neighbor who was a stranger? A fellow alum from University. The lady at the haircut place who needed a door opened? A friend whose children went to school with your friend's child. The lady on the bus? A friend's mother. The runner you walked by on the street? Your child's piano teacher. The creepy stranger at the coffee shop? A friend of a friend from abroad. And so it continues...

So while we are tempted to talk about all the things we hated about 2011, the light at the end of the tunnel is but 12 hours away.

How will we begin 2012? Reminding ourselves that "hey, you still have your health" as we relish in the soreness that comes from celebrating our muscles in exercise class this week. Enjoying the peaceful feeling that accompanies watching a child sleep. Sipping champagne, surrounded by friends, hopefully dancing our @ss off. Feeling gratitude for both old friends that have been a part of our lives and new friends that have come into it. And excited about the adventure and possibilities that lie ahead in 2012.

Art Vandelay, Latex Saleseman

How does one sum up a trip with some of the oddest stories ever?

Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman.

Odd?  Well that's literally how the trip started.  First night in Florida, after landing, checking in, and making the first of many Publix runs, we went to the local Chili's for dinner.  After all, it was Orlando, and when in Rome....

After rejoicing at the $4.99 kids menu, an odd man came to visit us.  He was not our waiter.

He was wearing a pin that read "Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman".

After laughing a bit and cracking a few jokes ("the sea was angry that day my friends....") we ended up chatting a bit with this fellow New Yorker/ magician/entertainer/balloon man.  We've never before met a balloon man that wasn't creepy.  He regaled us with stories of his travels.  Spoke of Southern hospitality that blew him away.  The slower pace of life outside New York.  The jokes non-New Yorkers just don't get.  He continued to entertain the adults, giving us insider tips on fun Disney things on the cheap as he made amazing balloons.  Most notable, this is the first balloon man we've ever met that is not creepy.

That's the bizarro world that belongs to Art Vandelay.

What else comprised this interesting trip?

Well, it's a story involving bizarre events such as car vomit, chefs who love food allergies, staying in Florida to avoid a hurricane, and repeated good customer service from an airline.  It's a three-act tale of life in an alternate universe:


Scene 1:  LaGuardia airport, gate 7


A nervous mother walks up to the gate.  After fighting with security about the soy nut butter jars in our bags, showing the epipen and explaining it to several employees and a manager that we can't buy it in Florida, we are ready for the usual eyerolling at the gate when we ask about peanuts we know they serve on board, hoping they have a heart.  Faster than you can say "peanu-....", we're shocked by the immediate understanding and knowledge they exhibit when hearing this.  They nod and immediately pick up a walkie-talkie, springing into action as if they actually know what a severe allergy means and have had some kind of training on the subject.  As if.

"We have a peanut allergy in 21 alpha.  I repeat, captain, peanut allergy in 21 alpha.  Over."

Some static and mumbling on the receiver.

"Copy that, sir.  We're clear."

He then turns to this mother and smiles:

"All set, ma'am.  We're clearing a peanut-free zone 3 rows ahead and behind.  Enjoy your flight."

We are flabbergasted.  No fight? No pleas? No protest? They just....helped?

Bizarro airline service experience #1.

Scene 2: Dinner at a Disney resort restaurant

"Hi, we have some food allergies at the table and had a few questions."

"Right away, ma'am."

Out comes Chef Brian.

"We can make anything you want.  I just reviewed your allergies as they were noted in the reservation.  We have a designated fryer. I'd stay away from the pasta, because that's made in a plant with seeds.  The pizza should be ok.  What sides do you want us to make you?"

He rattles off about 27 safe options.  Excuse me?  Have we died and gone to heaven?

We pick pizza with a side of peas.  Chef Brian comes out two minutes later.

"So I double checked our pizza as per our policy, and we just switched vendors who does not have a dedicated facility.  We have a supply of special allergy free pasta in our closet, we can make you any kind you want. Alfredo? Sauce? Fancy mac and cheese style?"

Mini picks mac and cheese.  Chef Brian tells us just to code it as a "pasta kids meal", giving us this very expensive allergy-gluten-free pasta with custom made bechamel sauce for $5.99.  We are too stunned to speak.

"Oh, and I see in your reservation you placed an order for a special chocolate cake for the table?"

We find our words again.

"Yes, we spoke to the bakery twice but wanted to double check that you really can..."

"Way ahead of you ma'am.  The mix we use is made in a dedicated nut, seed, egg, soy, dairy free facility.  We made it with egg replacer instead of eggs, knowing that she has an egg allergy, using sanitized equipment.  I just got off the phone with the bakery again myself, because it's our policy not just to double check, but to triple check these things.  Chocolate frosting ok?"

Now we are beyond tongue-tied.  Visions of the mini in a white flower girl dress as we step into a future of bliss with Chef Brian start popping into our head.  Chef Brian is our hero.

Our fantasy is interrupted a few minutes later by a waiter carrying a balloon and treats, along with a loud gong sound.  Apparently on every special occasion they announce it to the whole restaurant so they're all one "family".  This occasion?  Some 7 year old in another table made a nice picture and they want to randomly reward her for it.  We swear you can't make this stuff up.

They come out a little later with the gong, holding a giant chocolate cake.  We know it's not ours, because it's way bigger than we paid for, and fancy bakery style.  As we wonder how many of these gong hits we're going to have to sit through before we finally get our treat, the cake holder starts talking about a special family reunion.  Clearly going to the table next to us.  How do we know? It's written all over them. Literally.  15-20 people sitting at a table all wearing t-shirts that say "Smith family reunion".

So imagine the shock of the whole place when it comes to us?  Why a family reunion, one wonders? Well, everything's a special occasion, and what else do you call it when a bunch of friends from New York get a lovely trip to Florida and want to celebrate with cake just because they feel like it and for once in their life actually can?

The fancy cake

So bizarro restaurant experience follows bizarro flight.  There's only one way to explain something like this:

Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman.

Scene 3 - several urgent telephone calls made past midnight

In a strange twist of fate, the hurricane that was headed for Florida veers north, sparing us but threatening the east cost.  The timing will surely cancel our trip home, even though the computers haven't reflected that yet.  We try the airline, hoping to rebook for a later time before people get bumped and rebooked, making it days longer before we get home.  We hear a recording announcing they've hired more staff but still have 2 hour wait times due to expected weather delays and cancellations.  Steeling ourselves for a long and painful wait, we are caught off guard when the recorded message offers to have someone call us back if we enter our cell phone number.

We try it, almost in disbelief, but remain cynical as we hang up the phone.  The clear and articulate voice tells us because we are frequent fliers we should hear back in 35-40 minutes.

Something like 45 minutes go by and nothing.  We call again, finally reaching the prompt for entering our phone number.  Surprisingly, after we do, we're told we already have a place in line, and that it's only been 34 minutes and we should get a call in 10 minutes but we can try and rebook online while we wait if that's why we're calling.

We hang up, not sure how to react.  We try online, seeing that the $50 change fee plus fare difference only amounts to $1,200 per ticket.  We prepare for the fight of the lifetime.

8 minutes later, the phone rings.  The person on the other end actually seems...helpful.  She speaks English.  She actually has our info in front of her already.  We don't have to repeat anything.  We just tell her the situation and she says yes, there is still room on the Monday flight and if we just hold a minute she'll transfer us to the change department.  She's gone before we have time to eke out a sound, much less a question, so we give our friend an "I told you so look" as we listen to the bad music.

We're about to hang up in defeat, when a person finally speaks.  They have our info, will go ahead and send us an email confirming new ticket.  And the price?

"Gratis."

"Really?"

"That's right, there's no fee, ma'am."

"But, the website says..."

"Yes, but the weather's not your fault.  We understand that so given the situation there's no fee."

Wait a second, weather? An airline? NOT the customer's fault?  Before you go into full disbelief, there's more.

The $25 each baggage fee?  Waived, given the circumstances.  After going home 2+ days later than planned, it's expected we'd have more luggage than planned.  We shouldn't have to pay for that either.

Wait, who are we talking to again?

See the average of 8 calls per airline? And we only made one easy one.  We really were in bizarro world.

We hang up and proceed to call the hotel and car rental place to ask for two more days.  Again, we prepare ourselves for a fight, ready to dive into the irony of asking to stay in Florida for a hurricane.  Of course it's not their fault, but is there anything they can do?

Of course there is.  They understand.  After all, being stuck in a lovely resort in the Florida sunshine while the alternative is to sit at home with no power, water, or Starbucks as a hurricane blows in our windows must be horrible.  It's not our fault we have to miss more work and get two more days vacation.  We shouldn't have to pay so much for that either.  The horror of sipping pina coladas for two more days is bad enough.  So 15% off the car rental for the whole week.  15% off the hotel for the last two nights.  Just for asking.

WOW.

Has anyone ever had a vacation experience like this?  Only one way to explain the bizarre, almost backwards series of events.

Wait, you haven't figured it out yet?

Humpfh.  And you want to be my latex salesman.

What Us City Peeps Are Missing Out On

Maybe you missed it?

According to this article from the NY Times Magazine, if you think you're living a boring suburban life, you're in good company.

See, those of us with "boring" suburban lives (yes, we're throwing ourselves here because even in an urban setting if you have kids the routine isn't that different)  - those of us with these lives do all sorts of pedestrian things.   Including Mike Tyson.  Look at a typical day for this suburban father of three.  His day looks just like ours, we do many of the same things.  For instance:

We walk around the block.
We read.
We change diapers.
We watch movies.
We work out.
We raise homing pigeons.
We get daily massages.
We get regular calls from our publicist.
We no longer get regular paychecks, except for huge money for speaking gigs and cameos in movies like "The Hangover Part II".

Wait a second.....

Parts in Vegas movies? Massages? No job to go to? Daily walks? Time to read - with three children?

If this is the simple suburban life, we should seriously start contemplating a move.  Stay tuned for our next post, which may well be brought to you from "[Mis]adventures of an Ad Girl Who Used to Live in New York". 

Life Without Cash

Ever wonder what it would be like to be cashless for a week? Now you can stop wondering, because Poker Chick has conducted this experiment for you! Let's see how this works....

Day One
Go to ATM to get cash to pay babysitter. Card gets rejected as expired. Bank is closed and as it's Friday won't re-open until Monday. Go home and call bank. They will take a week to send a new one in the mail. Boo.

Call husband and force him to leave work two hours earlier than planned, so he can go the ATM. Pay babysitter extra money for staying late to wait for him. Double Boo.

Days Two and Three
This is easy enough! Husband can open his wallet for most things, and Poker Chick has enough in her wallet to cover minimal expenses without worrying. Totally doable!!

Day Four
Cash running low. Opt for $5 sandwich instead of $10 salad, get tea instead of fancy $5 coffee drink. Realize there's not enough cash for dinner and slyly reach for husband's wallet when the delivery guy shows up. Make sure to leave him enough to be fair.

Day Five
Repeat Day Four, only this time husband is left with just $5 in his wallet. Poker Chick is down to $2.

Day Six
Buy breakfast for $1.50 at coffee cart on street. Get free copy of New York Post as a bonus. Nice! Maybe Poker Chick should be doing more of this living on the cheap!

Forage for lunch. Soda and apple in office fridge, someone left out crackers, find leftover bag of potato chips in drawer. Forget about cash problem until late in the day. Walk home and realize in horror not only are you cashless but husband has just left town for three days. Feel like 1950s housewife and beat yourself up for being dependent.

Order sushi for dinner so you can justify enough food to allow credit card usage. Feel less like a 1950s housewife and more like a modern woman bringing in her own income so she can eat sushi if she wants to. Enjoy meal and remind yourself to borrow $20 from a coworker tomorrow.

No, Poker Chick did not "eat a bowl of stupid." But ain't this funny?

Day Seven
Desperation. Forget to ask for money, buy $10 salad with credit card. On the way home, look lovingly at a slice of cheesecake and wonder how you're going to scrounge the $4 for this one. Swallow your pride and ask if you can pay with a credit card. Walk away with cake and eat with guilty pleasure and a disturbed sense of accomplishment.


Check mailbox for ATM card and frown at nothing but catalogs. Eat cereal for dinner as you feel too embarrassed to use a credit card again.

Day Eight
Desperation x3. Convince coworkers to order pizza delivery for lunch as it's "raining and you're all so busy". Smile in satisfaction knowing that other colleague who paid will submit for reimbursement and you still got to eat your pizza. Mentally praise your creativity.

4pm. Freakout as you realize you have to pay the babysitter again and husband's flight home is delayed. Doh!

Go home and dance a happy dance as you see ATM card in the mailbox. Have your day ruined as you open and see it's a debit card which you specifically requested NOT to receive. Talk to bank and learn you will have to wait another week for the real one. Throw out every curse word you know.

In conclusion...
Many people may laugh at this, arguing that tons of people are going cashless these days. Everyone (but Poker Chick) has a debit card. Go ahead and laugh. Then Poker Chick will tell you that when people use debit or credit cards instead of cash they spend, on average, 50% more on their purchases. 50%!!!!! That adds up, peeps.

Now who's laughing?

Random Musings

She hopes the mini never stops saying "elphawent".

DinDin is in town and it did not take long for the big sister tormenting to begin.

Pilates may have done something to her knee today. Doh.

Something is really f*cked up when you have to wear a winter coat in May.

Is anyone even reading this these days?

Punchy Night Terrors

To my Philippine friend, who wanted to hear more about New York....

Sadly, it was a typical end to the day. Run out of office in desparation. People do not understand meaning of "must get off phone now", and, once again, this mother can't get it together and is relieving the nanny late. Run home. 3 messages, all reminders of stuff Poker Chick is letting fall through the cracks. Accountant reminding her to come in. Oh yeah. Friend reminding her to call and book the freakin' vacation in a couple weeks already. Health insurance people calling. They called last week and Poker Chick accidentally hung up on them. She tried to call back but their lines were down and she forgot about it the next day. Oops. Packages to open. More gifts for the mini. Lovely gifts, Poker Chick appreciates the love. Really, please don't take it personally that the thank you note or call hasn't come yet. She'll get around to it. In two months, maybe. Next minute, listen to nanny passing along the message that other moms are wondering why the mini is the only kid whose mom did not sign up for a "shabbat mom" slot. Why? Because Poker Chick is the only freakin' mom in the class that has to work to afford the damn school. So chill out, parents and lay off the guilt. It ain't helping.

Where were we? Oh yes, taking off the jacket. See, all this was just the first minute. Kid and nanny talking at once, sounds like five people yelling at once, don't know what to listen to. Kid wants milk, nanny says keys at front desk missing. Poker Chick pauses to look at mini "that's not how you ask for something!", waits for compliant "please may I have milk...". Continue listening. Keys. Does Poker Chick's friend have them? No. That leaves only the cleaning lady and she does not have the keys. So now we have to go do the doorman search and all and figure out where the heck they're hiding in that lobby box. What a pain in the @ss.

But wait, there's more! Someone was robbed in a building close by the other day. Some guy disguised as a FedEx dude. Seriously! And last night there was also a murder in Poker Chick's cozy little neighborhood. Last night!! Murder!! One person dead, another good samaritan who tried to intervene in critical condition. But hey, at least it wasn't in a nice fancy doorman building right near Poker Chick and the mini. And at least it wasn't in her kids' friend's building. Oh, wait.....

That's right. It was. And now Poker Chick's keys are missing. And this girl here (yes, she's big enough to admit it) sometimes gets afraid in the dark. You know, things go bump, scary guy in mask she's been expecting all her life must be breaking in, all that realistic jazz. Yep, we're pitiful like that. So until we either find Poker Chick's keys or change the locks, suffice it to say this girl will be tired. Dead tired. (Ha! I kill me! Hey, that's one too....)