Team Elizabeth

Forget Team Brad and Team Jen or Team Brad and Team Angelina (how many teams is Brad on anyway?). I am on Team Elizabeth…as in Elizabeth Edwards. Seriously, can someone cut this woman a break?

Elizabeth Edwards: she has terminal cancer, has lost a son in a tragic car accident, has a husband who not only cheated on her while she was ill, but had a baby with another woman; and she has handled it all in the public eye.

If you haven’t been following the news, Elizabeth recently left her cheating husband, John Edwards, after months of speculation that he fathered the daughter of Rielle Hunter, a former campaign videographer. John Edwards, the two-timing presidential candidate, denied the affair for some time and reports say that he only came forward because of a tell-all book  his former aide Andrew Young is releasing, full of details about the torrid affair.  Now they say there’s a sex tape.

What kind of man does this to a woman who has been through so much; who he is supposed to love, honor and cherish; who is the mother of his children; who he has been married to for 30 years?

How much is one person supposed to take? I don’t care that Elizabeth lives a comfortable life in North Carolina, nor that she has a lot money, has met thousands of people on the campaign trail or has traveled to places I may never go. Instead, I feel terribly sorry for her. She defended her husband for the sake of her family and for her husband’s reputation. And what did she get out of it? Public humiliation, being awkwardly interviewed on shows like Oprah and The View, and people like me blogging about her.

I hope that Elizabeth Edwards finally finds some peace in her life now that she has separated from her lying, cheating, $300 haircutting husband.

So, who’s team are you on?

The Gym is for Working Out, Not Conference Calls

I don’t like the gym, but I go, reluctantly. Once I am there, I feel good about getting off the couch and being active and motivated, and feel even better when I’m done. What I have started hating most about going to the gym: people on their cell phones!

I know we live in an instant gratification society. Everything needs to be right here, right now, when I want it, how I want it, yesterday. But seriously, do you really need to be on the phone at the gym?

When I’m at the gym, I’m reading, listening to my iPod, trying to tune out the world around me. The last thing I want to do is hear your conversation.

You’re probably thinking, “If she’s got her iPod on, how does she hear these people?” Well, these folks don’t know they’re in the gym. They talk like they would talk on the phone at home on in their office. No matter how loud Lady Gaga is blaring in my ears while I’m on the elliptical, I can still hear their conversation (especially when they’re right next to me).

If you want to bring your phone to the gym to play with your Blackberry or listen to tunes on your iPhone, I’m totally down with that. But have some respect for those of us who are there to simply work out; not finish up a conference call or catch up with friends we haven’t talked to in weeks.

How to Win the Ex War

How many of you have an ex? Maybe you are friendly with them, maybe you loathe them, but whatever the case, they’re your ex.

With all the social networking out there, you know your ex has probably tried to find you. They might not want to talk to you and they certainly aren’t interested in reconnecting, but they want to know if they’ve won.

Won what you ask? A new car, a diamond bracelet? No silly!  I’m not talking about the “How’d They Turn Out” challenge. While everyone wants to see how you look, if you got fat, slimmed down, lost your hair, got new boobs; this isn’t that game. This is about who got the better significant other.

Recently, I was contacted by a family member of a former flame on Facebook. While I was shocked and surprised at first, I welcomed his friend-request since we had been close during and after my “relationship” with his sibling. Not to mention, I was curious about what was up with his brother, who I dated on and off for way too many years. Ugh.

I perused his profile and saw only a few photos, but there was his brother…on his wedding day. I waited for my heart to sink. This was the guy I grew up thinking I was going to marry (Note: I was 17 when I dated this kid!). But it stayed right there; it didn’t flutter and certainly didn’t sink. Instead, it was shocked and mortified and happy.

My old flame married a girl who may not even be of legal drinking age. And before you say it, no I am not jealous. She was blonde and looked sweet, and totally his type, exactly the girl I’m not. In the few shots I saw, our weddings were worlds apart. I’m talking continents, distance planets! As I got older, I realized that we were not meant to be, but suddenly I had proof that he was not right for me. And while I was probably the best thing that ever will happen to him (every girl thinks that, don’t deny it!), I was not right for him either.

Seeing these pictures made my day. I called all my girlfriends and told them the story. We giggled like teenagers and joked about what my life would have been like had I ended up with that man. And my husband: I ran out to the living room so fast, jumped on his lap and profusely thanked him for picking me (then showed him the pictures!). I could have been the girl in the picture, and he saved me from that possibility. And yeah, I won. After all that scumbag did to me over the years, it was a great feeling to know I’d won the last round!! Case closed.

Making a Case for the Landline

About five years ago, I almost cut my finger off. It was terrible. I won’t go into the gory details or ramble on about how my boyfriend (now husband) and I had only been living together for nine days when the incident unfolded. What I will tell you about is how important it was that we had a landline.

While my finger was literally hanging on by an artery, E was desperately trying to reach 911…on his cell phone. His number was in the 917 area code and he was immediately sent to New York City’s emergency call center. Well, that didn’t help much considering we lived in Hoboken. Still, he told them to just send an ambulance, but they couldn’t. The operator had to transfer his call to someone in New Jersey. We didn’t have time for that. Blood was streaming down the white kitchen floor and I was screaming in shock. That’s when E picked up the house line.

“911, what’s your emergency?” he heard on the other line. As he begged them to send help and began describing what had happened, the dispatcher read back our address. She knew exactly where we lived and rescue workers were already on the way.

It is because of this incident that I will always have a landline. I have thought about getting rid of it, as I have a cell phone with more minutes than I know what to do with and three times as many rollover minutes that I will never use. But my cell phone is in a 973 area code and I live in 201. I know people who have moved and have a South Dakota area code and live in Jersey. If they called 911, they would likely get an out-of-state operator and be transferred.

There are other reasons why I keep my house line, besides the amazing phone number I got when I first moved to Hoboken (sorry, I can’t share that with you!). I can’t always count on my cell phone reception. Whether it’s my equipment, towers, location, weather, or the ghost that invades my phone, there’s never a guarantee it will work properly. I feel better knowing I have another way to communicate with friends and family.

Most importantly, aside from 911 transfers and poor reception, I don’t think you can rely on a cell phone the way you can rely on a landline. Your cell phone’s battery can run out; better yet, the whole device can break within seconds (remember spilling soda on it while you were simultaneously trying to feed the kids?). And then what happens when you have to make a call to your husband that you just went into labor or to your kid’s school that grandma will be picking them up today?

In the wake of iPhones, Blackberries and other fancy phone devices, think about some of these scenarios before ushering out your beloved landline.

I Can’t Wait to Say Goodbye to 2009!

2009 has been a rough year. Not just for me, but for so many people I know. It seems like every time I talk to someone, we’re discussing the bad instead of the good.

For me, it all started when my husband lost his job. Then we lost the house we were planning to buy, followed by me losing my job. Soon, our friends started losing their jobs, people got divorced, started dating the wrong people, admitted to addictions, lost loves; it was as if 2009 took a good look at everyone and told us all to, “F*ck off!”

Don’t get me wrong, there were great things that happened for some during this tragic year. People had babies, got married, bought houses, traveled the world; and thankfully, many of us are still lucky enough to say we have our health. Good things did come out of this miserable year. And thank God they did, because after all the heartache and depression that 2009 brought, not to mention catastrophes like the Buffalo plane crash I had to work or the Hudson helicopter crash that happened right in front our home, we sure did need them.

After reading my brother’s blog, I realized we weren’t just saying goodbye to 2009, but to an entire decade (and yes, I planned on writing this blog before I read his – I guess great minds do think alike!). I found out a lot of people didn’t realize it was approaching either. And something about a new decade, about getting rid of this rancid year we call 2009 out of the way gives me hope. Hope that we’ll find the right career path, or it will find us. Hope that broken hearts will be mended and the hurt will be healed. Hope that as bad as this year may have been, no matter what the reason, we’ll still have each other next year to celebrate and be thankful for all we have.

Why I Broke Up With My Credit Card Over Paperless Billing

The other day I got one of those “Important: Changes to Your Account” notices in the mail. I’ll admit it, half the time I don’t read them and I’m sure you don’t either (forgive me for speculating). For some reason though, I thought I might want to skim through this one. I don’t know why, it just seemed like I should be paying more attention to these “terms and conditions.”

I have so many credit cards, I don’t know what to do with them. Macy’s, Sears, Bloomingdales, Express. That’s not even counting the Visas and Mastercards I have in my possession. I don’t use them very often, but I have been told that canceling them in this day and age is worse than keeping them. Besides, sometimes I get specials for having or using them, but it’s rare that I use the department store cards or anything other than my bank or airline miles credit card (Greece, here I come!).

In any event, I decided to read through WFNNB’s (World Financial Network National Bank) new credit card agreement for my Express charge card. As soon as I saw the few lines, I was blown away. My interest rate was increasing to like 25% and they would be charging to send a bill in the mail.

While 25% is a high APR, I don’t use this card that often and when I do, I pay in full, but what if that changed? What irked me most was WFNNB was going to start charging me for paper statements? I know this is now a “green” and “paperless” world, but I like to get a bill in the mail and see what I bought, make sure there are no mistakes; damn, I just like getting my bill that way. Am I being punished for that? No, just charged.

I do everything online. My email, my banking, hell,  it seems all my communication with friends and family is done online these days. And now they want to charge me for my paper billing?!? I would understand if they charged me for a duplicate copy or something, but this seemed ludicrous to me. I called to make sure I was correct in my understanding and sure enough, I was. Between that and raising the interest rate to 25%, I was out.

So I broke up with my Express credit card. I’m sorry Express / WFNNB. Even though we had been together since I was 18, you made demands on me that are just a little too outrageous in this economy. I’m a customer, you should have done something to keep me, to bring me into your store(s), not chase me away.

Take it from me. Read these boring terms and conditions coming to a mailbox near you. Read it on your commute, at your lunch hour, while you’re bored at work, at some point. Don’t get hit with hidden fees and charges for something you clearly don’t need, want or use. Instead, save those dollars for a pretty new pair of shoes!

Bah Humbug! Beware of Scammers Preying on Unemployed This Holiday Season

I love gift wrapping. My dad is a bit of a freak about it and I think I followed in his footsteps. So imagine my excitement when I received an email from Best Buy telling me about a gift wrapping job opportunity available during the holiday season. Look, I’m unemployed…any opportunity involving something I like even a little bit excites me!

This email didn’t go into my spam box, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think “Richard Miller” was reaching out to me and only me. I am sure “Director of Communications” didn’t scream gift wrapper when he poached my email from some career website database. But I didn’t let it bring me down. It was the holidays and this seemed like a cool way to make some extra cash and kill some free time, so I emailed him back for some more info. “A new Best Buy just opened up in Jersey City,” I thought to myself. I know so many unemployed people, maybe we can do this together and make a thing of it!

How many of you are laughing at me right now? Don’t feel bad, because I’m laughing at myself as I write this. The email fails to send ( he had a Best Buy domain – I’m not that bad!), so I call the number Richard provided for me in his correspondence. I’m directly connected to “Welcome to HR department” and some elevator music. No Best Buy, not even the HR department, just HR Department. Now my senses are peaked. Could this be a scam?

I waited on hold for maybe 3 minutes. “Everyone probably got this email all at once,” I’m thinking. “The lines are bum-rushed.”

Finally, I throw in the towel, accepting defeat, realizing there is no Richard Miller, no Best Buy gift wrapping holiday temp job, just gullible me.

What I didn’t understand was what kind of scam this could be. Did they want to get my social security number or other personal information if I filled out a job application? Rob or carjack me when I showed up somewhere to wrap all these gifts? No, not even close. When I did a little research, I found out that this was a “wrap from home scheme.” What these people do is send you stolen merchandise and pay to have it shipped across the globe, then disappear and never pay you.

Usually I am smarter than this. Maybe I should lay off the egg nog! Happy holidays!

Help! My Portfolio Has Been Hijacked by City Hall

In September, I interviewed for what I thought was an amazing job. It was for the public information officer position in my hometown of Hoboken.  I met with our interim mayor at the last-minute, over a holiday weekend, and thought it went fabulously. She took my portfolio and asked for my references.

She said the position needed to be filled immediately, but weeks went by and there was no follow-up. When I checked in, I was told interviews were still being conducted. I was cool with that. The job market has changed drastically and it’s not the same finding a gig today as it used to be. Whereas two years ago, you may have gone on one or two interviews within two weeks, these days, you may go through three to five over a two month period.

As the weeks progressed, I heard nothing. Ok, I thought, maybe the position was on hold while she was running for permanent office; maybe it was canceled due to lack of funding; or perhaps it was filled internally. Whatever the case, it would have been nice to have received a follow-up, but better yet, to have gotten my work back.

I called and emailed the mayor’s office for weeks with no response. The mayor had given me her personal email but my attempts proved unsuccessful.  I left messages with people in her office who promised they would relay my concern about my portfolio but still no movement. I reached out to the mayor’s aide who at one point said he’d get me my stuff by the end of the week, only to be forgotten about.

HELP! My press portfolio is being hijacked in city hall! Ok, I am being a bit dramatic here, but seriously, I brought great samples of my work to this interview because it was something I wanted; I truly wanted to impress. In this economy, it’s sin that anyone would ignore repeated attempts to get someone’s work back. Being too busy is not an acceptable reason. I’m a resident (an unemployed one at that!) of your community; please, show me a little respect!

I shouldn’t have to write a blog to get my work back, but maybe it will work.

Does Your Doc Owe You Money? I’d Bet My Co-Pay On It…

How many of you actually know what your explanation of benefits are? Sounds boring, I know. Until recently, I never really knew myself, primarily because I didn’t bother to pay attention to them. If something came in the mail that said I was not responsible for any payments and/or it was covered by my benefits, that was all I needed to know.

Now that I am paying my own health insurance out-of-pocket (with some government aid thanks to Obama’s American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009, which reduces the cost of COBRA for the unemployed), I look at everything related to my health bills a little more closely, including my EOBs.

It has come to my attention in recent months, that I sometimes pay a co-pay at a doctor’s office when I actually don’t need to. I’m usually only shelling out about $10 to $20 a visit, depending on the type of doctor I am seeing and I’m ok with that, because when I receive my EOB, it tells me if I actually needed to pay a co-pay or any other charges. The EOB is a complete breakdown of what my doctor charges for the visit, what my insurance company pays the doctor, what I am responsible for, and what costs were not covered, if any. It is, as it states, an explanation of your benefits.

As these annoying pieces of paper kept arriving in my mailbox, I started realizing that I was paying doctors when I didn’t need to. Since there were lots of lines and numbers and insurance jargon I didn’t quite understand, I called my carrier to make sure I was understanding this correctly.

What I heard on the other end shocked me. My doctor(s) receives these same EOBs. They see that I am indeed, not responsible for these co-pays and by law, are supposed to refund me my co-pay upon receipt of this document. Let me just tell you, checks are not miraculously showing up in my mail. Are they showing up in yours?

So I have to call my doctor(s) and explain which isn’t a big deal; well, most of the time. Sometimes they want a copy of the EOB (which I can easily obtain through my online account), sometimes they already have it on file. However, there are times when I get the run around for a measly $10. One doctor made me wait four months for a refund. I was told my doctor was too busy with patients to approve this. My insurance company finally called and just like that, the check was in the mail the next day. I’ve already been refunded nearly $100 in the last 2 months in overpaid co-pays! As I mentioned, it is against the law for physicians to not refund you your money (if you are owed money) when they receive this document, because they are receiving an overpayment; they have already been paid by your carrier. That is what you pay for by having benefits (whether you are like me and pay for them out-of-pocket or you are on a company plan).

I urge you to take a few minutes out of your hectic day to go over your explanation of benefits. While it may seem like only a few dollars, it all adds up in the end. If 4,000 people aren’t refunded their $10 co-pay, that’s $40,000 lost to working Americans. And we all could use an extra few buck in our pockets, couldn’t we?

The Death of the Mix Tape

Remember the mix tape? You know, the cassette you played in your car or your Aiwa stereo boom box that was a compilation of everything in your life? For those of you who forget or may not even know, mix tapes were way before CDs and archaic compared to iTunes.

I recently went home to my parents’ house for a visit and we purged the basement. I love purging. I feel like a weight has been lifted from me when I purge; even if it’s not my own stuff! This time, there was a lot of my things to get rid of, including my cassettes.

When my mom asked if we could get rid of them, I blanked. How could we throw out my tape collection where I first heard Whitney belt out “Greatest Love of All,” Bon Jovi croon “Born to Be My Baby,” or the theme song from “St. Elmo’s Fire?” Forgetting the actual tapes I owned, there were literally hundreds of mix tapes I had created over the years. Seriously, I didn’t get a CD player till I was like 19!

I made mix tapes for everyone and everything. If I had a house party, there was a mix tape. And there wasn’t just one – I had a slow jam mix for late night, a party mix for when things got rowdy and a mix of the two. I made mix tapes for my friends. When someone went through a break up, there was cassette full of depressing tunes to listen to while they cried their eyes out. When we all decided to get into shape, there were motivational mixes to pump us; when someone got their license, there was a driving mix; when we went on a road trip, prom, the shore, you name it, there were tunes to accompany us.

And of course there were mix tapes for your man, full of love songs, both happy and sad. But the best mix tape, at least in my mind, was when you got one from someone else, (i.e. a guy). Whether it was a boyfriend or a guy you liked, or even a good friend you crushed on, the fact that a guy was sitting there pushing play, record, stop, and perfectly mastering the set-up of each song for your personal enjoyment, sent chills down the spine.

So now, I was left to decide if I get rid of all those good memories. While I couldn’t physically watch them on YouTube or instantly play them on my Mac, they held a little piece of my youth that always made me smile, even if some of those times were the most difficult I thought I would ever endure (if I only knew then what I know now!).

I told my mom I needed to think about it and the bag stayed in the basement. While I contemplated getting rid of them, I realized, um, hello, I don’t even have a tape deck anymore to play these damn mixes. But they’re still there, collecting dust, until I’m ready to let go. iTunes Genius has nothing on my “Serious Depressing Mix Part 5″ or “Kathy’s Motivational Mix.”