New Year's Day Rules

I grew up with a list of New Year's Day superstitions, otherwise known as the Rules. My indoctrination began at a tender age, and New Year's Day just doesn't feel right if I don't follow all of the rules about the day. Most of these, if not all of them, come from my maternal grandmother, a woman raised in the South. So many of these superstitions are common in the South. In the North and West, however, they'll elicit some pretty strange looks from your friends.

Dinner
I spoke about this in a previous post. First, the main course. Eat nothing that scratches backwards. This means no poultry as they scratch backwards at the feed before eating it. Lamb is ok. As is ham or beef. But no poultry. I cannot eat chicken or turkey on New Year's Day without feeling like I'm committing some huge mortal sin.

Next, side dishes. You need to eat your black-eyed peas and greens. The black-eyed peas are for sense/cents. Not sure if it's for common sense or money, but I'll take either in abundance thank you very much. The greens are for dollars (or any money). This is any kind of green vegetable. Growing up it was green beans (probably because they were my sister's favorite veggie), but any greens will work. Just eat lots of it so you get lots of money. As a child I thought this was made up by my mother to get my sister and I to eat more vegetables than we would normally have to. We were good little girls, we always did eat our veggies, but "lots" was pushing it. However, the promise of lots of money during the coming year in exchange for suffering through a big pile of greens is convincing enough for any child. Note: I am still waiting for the big financial return on all those greens I've eaten over the years. Yet, I still eat a big pile of greens every damn year.

To ensure we ate a proper meal on New Year's Day, my grandmother would mail us a can of green beans, a can of black-eyed peas, and a ham (not the canned variety, but rather the preserved and shrink-wrapped kind). Yes, you read that right, mail us our meal. That's some pretty strong rule enforcement. I visited Grandmother for Christmas this year, and she sent me home with ham and a can of black-eyed peas. The only reason I didn't get a can of green beans as well is because I already have a can in my pantry (no lie, and she made me swear to it). She sent me home with them. Just in case I didn't have time to get to the store between Friday and Sunday night to get me some. And you wonder why I'm still following the rules to this day. I'm scared not to.

Laundry
Doing laundry on New Year's Day means that someone will be "washed" out of your life during the coming year, otherwise known as a death in the family. This can be summarized for your friends as: laundry = death.

Activities
Don't do anything the first day of the year you don't want to do the rest of the year. In other words, do the things you want to do. Sleep late. Call your loved ones and friends or better yet, go visit. Catch up on correspondence. Relax. Watch some tv or movies. Whatever you find enjoyable and wouldn't mind being able to do for the rest of the year. And whatever you do, don't spend it on a plane or traveling if at all possible. I flew one year, and spent a large chunk of my time in airports and on planes during the next 365 days. No joke. I also recommend NOT being hungover/sick unless you enjoy that feeling.

Don't pay bills on New Year's Day as this signifies money going out and none coming in. Never a good thing.

Luck
Turning a stool/chair on one leg = bad luck. Don't ask me about this one. I don't know. All I can tell you is that when rotating a chair or stool on New Year's Day, I always, always, pick it up off the floor completely before turning it. Better safe than sorry.

So consider yourself warned and indoctrinated. I can't make you follow the superstitions, all I can do is tell you about them and pray for your soul if you don't follow the New Year's Day Rules.

Holiday traditions: Part 5, miscellaneous

Always a miscellaneous. Always things that you just can't categorize. The OCD cataloging librarian in me is having fits because everything belongs somewhere, somewhere...

Decorations
Putting up decorations was always fun. Dad was in charge of the lights outside. We usually bought some pine swag when we got the tree, and he'd carefully wrap little lights around it and drape it around the porch roof. We even had a star that went up on the roof. We had lights for the trees, to go around the door, for the eaves (with swag, of course), but not really over the top like you'd think of over the top. We didn't twinkle, we didn't set anything to music, we just had swag and lights framing the house. I always thought it was very pretty and tasteful. At the end of the 12th days of Christmas, Dad took it all down and bagged each strand of lights in a zip top baggie, labeling each bag carefully for where the lights went (front bushes, window, door, etc.). I found a couple of those bags a few years ago, but the problem is we moved often enough that I have no idea which house the notes refer to!

Inside the house, we were pulling decorations out of the boxes, remembering each one, deciding where to put them and then running around the house putting things everywhere. By they time we were done, it looked like Christmas had thrown up all over our house. My sister and I had Christmas tree night lights, there was fake swag on the banister with lights woven through it, candy dishes, Christmas magnets for the fridge, candles and soaps in the bathrooms, Christmas books on the coffee table, and so on and so on. Christmas insanity. But somehow it never felt overwhelming to us kids. After the 12th day of Christmas, we would help gather everything up and put it in the living room to be boxed up again. We didn't help put it in the boxes, but we did help gather it.

As a family, we also had a contest. Who could find the last decoration. Whomever did won the glory of being able to gloat that they found it. I think Mom is the all time record holder, finding a Christmas decoration in JULY! Yeah, she wins. Bah humbug.

Cards
I do "holiday" cards because they either get done and mailed out around Thanksgiving or not until after Christmas. Just the way life goes. As an (apparently perpetual) student and someone that works in an academic environment, the first few weeks in December are insane...finals, end of the semester, etc. Cards just aren't a priority...finishing the 15 page research paper is. And doing cards is a complicated endeavor. The past few years I've had so much going on I've written the proverbial "newsletter" because otherwise my hand would fall off trying to write in each card. There's also verifying addresses (cross checking with last year's cards, searching e-mails for updated addresses I haven't written down yet, etc.) and updating my address label file. Then there's finding cards you like. For me, that means non-denominational happy holidays cards. Admittedly I do try to buy them during the after Christmas sale for the next year because they get expensive when you're buying more than 2 boxes. Finally, there's doing the actual cards. This means labeling and stamping the envelope, writing in the card, folding and stuffing in the note, and licking all those envelopes. Hopefully the envelope glue tastes good...but make sure you have a glass of water (or wine, or cider, or whatever your little heart desires) handy.

Some people have a check list for their cards. It looks like a spreadsheet with columns for years they check off if cards were sent and received. And if they don't get a card from someone for so many years, they stop sending them cards. I'm not one of those people. I'm probably organized enough, but it's just too much work and I don't care if you send me a card or not. I'll probably send you one even if you never send me a card. Some people just don't do cards. I get that, and I don't hold it against you. As long as you don't hold it against me for those years I just don't get cards done.

Holiday traditions: Part 4, entertainment

Besides the trip to cut down the Christmas tree each year, there were always a few activities that come to mind when I think about the holidays.

Jigsaw puzzles
We always had jigsaw puzzles. At every holiday function. And they were holiday themed. Easter ones, Thanksgiving ones, even Valentine's day. But we had several different Christmas ones. And we did them every year. New ones would appear from time to time, but we never stopped doing the old ones. We'd just cycle in the new ones. One in particular I remember was the gingerbread house. There also was a wreath made of dog bones, polar bears (winter themed), Christmas ornaments, and I believe even Santa's workshop to name a few.

We'd designate a table as "the puzzle table" for the entire holiday, and do puzzle after puzzle, with music on in the background. Somehow we never lost a piece. When people would come over for Christmas day dinner, they'd eat, drink hot cider and work on the puzzle, all while talking and having a good time. And of course my sister and I fought over who got to put in the last piece...which meant either Dad or Mom did it instead.

Games
We'd play many a card game as a family. Specifically we played Uno, hearts and pinochle (double deck, 4 players for you card sharks out there). Now these were not the Norman Rockwell everything is merry card games. These were vicious. For example, once I gave my mother the queen of spades during hearts. She turned to me, and said, completely seriously, "bitch, I'm gonna get you for that." And she did. Then next round she nailed me but good, giving me a nasty run of hearts AND the queen of spades, but not enough to shoot the moon. Damn her, I went from first place to third place in ONE hand. But before you call child services, we always had a good time. We'd call each other names and scream and laugh and thoroughly enjoy ourselves. As a family. How many other people can say they had that good of a time just hanging out with their family? My sister and I know we were pretty lucky in that respect.

Movies/TV:
Growing up my sister and I weren't allowed to watch much tv. We were allowed the Muppet Show (a family event), sci-fi with my dad, and PBS. That's about it. So Christmas time was special because it meant we got to stay up late and watch all the special shows. The Charlie Brown Christmas with the pitiful tree, "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever," Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, John Denver and the Muppets Christmas, other Christmas specials that came out over the years, the parades on TV, and most special of all, the ballet of the Nutcracker with Mikhail Baryshnikov in the title role.

Music
Everyone has their favorite Christmas/holiday music albums. For some people it's carols or pop music, but for us it was an album called "A Brass Christmas," George Winston (both "December" and "Winter into Spring"), and John Denver & the Muppets. Jenna and I danced around the living room to Miss Piggy singing "Christmas is coming" every year. I still have those albums, now on CD rather than vinyl. And it just doesn't feel like Christmas until I play them.

Holiday traditions: Part 3, food

Food. Traditions and the holidays always come back to food. Dinners, buffets, desserts, treats, it's all about the food. I remember many holiday food traditions growing up.

Recipes
There is a huge list of traditional family recipes that always made a holiday appearance. These include: pumpkin roll (aforementioned), spiced & sugared nuts, boiled custard (no eggnog in this family), cranberry-orange relish, mincemeat pie, Grandmother's sweet potatoes/yams, peanut butter and/or chocolage fudge, and mulled apple cider.

There were also regularly appearing appetizers: warmed cream cheese w/jalapeño jelly, spinach dip, sour cream and onion dip, brie warmed with marmelade and almonds on top, and mixed nuts. Other appetizers might get mixed in for a year depending on what people brought with them, but somehow we always went back to the same core group.

Meals
Our Christmas dinner was much like our Thanksgiving meal. It consisted of a random and eclectic group of people who's family didn't live close enough to visit, much like our family, which is scattered all over the U.S. and now the world. The dinner itself was a feast, involving many of the above recipes, a yummy turkey and/or ham (sometimes even a roast), stuffing, mashed potatoes, veggies (green bean casserole anyone?), rolls, and whatever our guests chose to bring and share from their own holiday food traditions. We all sat around and ate and talked and laughed. Somehow, despite the fact that the only thing everyone there had in common was knowing our family, we always had a good time.

[We also had a specific New Year's Day dinner, but more on that in a later post.]

Food gifts
Remember when you used to give holiday gifts to your teachers? And if you live somewhere where you can still do that, remember when they could be homemade treats? We did that every year. My sister and I would make pumpkin rolls and the spiced & sugared nuts for our teachers each year. Mom of course helped us, but she tried to make sure we did as much of it as possible to really be able to say the gift was from us. We'd get nice food gift containers to put the nuts in, and wrap the pumpkin rolls in foil and tie the ends with ribbon so they looked pretty. Then we'd haul them into school on the last day before break and give them out. I don't remember a teacher ever saying no, and I don't remember ever worrying about health, diet, food allergy or any other concern. We just assumed they'd be able to eat and enjoy them.

To this day I bring food to holiday parties, whether at work or a friend's place. Only now, I bring a copy of the recipe along for everyone to see just in case someone can't eat something that's in what I've made.

Stocking goodies
Our stockings always contained food in addition to little gifts, specifically nuts, candy, and fruit. Pistachios were the favorite nut, followed by walnuts and almonds, all of them still in the shells and needing the nutcracker to get to the meaty goodness. Of course the candy involved chocolate (Hershey's Kisses, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, chocolate covered marshmallow Santas, Peppermint Patties, cherry cordials for my sister, Godiva truffles for my mom) and sometimes hard candy. But mostly chocolate.

To add to the chocolate and nut goodness, we had oranges and apples. As a bonus, each year Santa brought a new and different "exotic" fruit to try like star fruit, kiwi, mango, pomegranate, etc. These were fruits that when I was young you didn't often see in the supermarket, except in the really expensive area and there was never very much of it. So Christmas morning after we emptied our stockings we all tried the fruit with breakfast. Some years were more successful than others. Kiwi and mango are still some of my favorite fruits. Star fruit, on the other hand, I don't think I've ever eaten since. I don't remember it tasting like much, although it was pretty to look at.

Hershey's Kisses
Mom always put Hershey's Kisses in decorative Christmas bowls around the house. The living room, the family room, the kitchen counter, they all had bowls/dishes with red, silver and green foil wrapped Hershey's Kisses. We would all walk by the bowls and grab a Kiss (or two) throughout the holiday.

Unfortunately, as pretty as they were, these were a temptation to the pets. Both animals would eat them, and it's a wonder they didn't get sick but somehow they never did. But you could tell which animal ate them. When the cat ate them, she removed the foil. You'd find this nice little pile of foil on the table next to the bowl. And she'd only eat one or two. The dog on the other hand would eat the entire bowl, foil and all. For days afterwards you could look out into the backyard and see little glints of the foil sparkling in the sun, almost like twinkling lights in the daytime. Disgusting, I know, yet strangely pretty.

Mom still put the Hershey's Kisses out, but she started using candy jars with tight fitting lids instead of the bowls. I'm now the proud owner of one such candy jar; it's shaped like a snowman and currently has red and green M&Ms in it. Yum.

Holiday traditions: Part 2, gifts

My family has a tradition of giving people exactly what they want or need. You give me a list, and you will get something on that list, preferably something that can and will be used. For example, when I started driving, the garage I used had no automatic opener on it. I had to get out of my car, unlock the garage door, open it, get back in my car, and drive in. Now, this is really more of an inconvenience than anything else, but I had a good reason for wanting a garage door opener for Christmas. I was on the swim team in high school. That particular winter was one of the coldest and snowiest on record, which meant that when I got home from practice and got out of the car, my wet hair would freeze solid. Seriously. So, I asked for a garage door opener for Christmas. Dad and I spent Christmas afternoon that year installing it. I was thrilled; my friends thought I was insane.

This practicality extended to gifts from Santa. How many people got underwear from Santa? For some reason I never understood growing up, Santa always brought my dad colorful underwear. Every year Dad got at least three new packs. Santa gifts were usually one big thing and lots of little things like bookmarks and pencils with your name on them. I'm still using those pencils. They're very handy at work where things tend to "walk off" and disappear. Pencils with your name on them always seem to find their way home again.

Opening
My family opened gifts on Christmas Eve. We'd eat dinner, open gifts, and then attend the late night service. My sister and I would pull the gifts out from under the tree and pile them up for each person in a different chair or corner of the couch. We were the "gift elves." Each person sat next to their pile. Remembering which chair/corner was yours was important because Santa left his gifts in the same place. The images you see of people tearing into gifts all at once with paper flying everywhere didn't happen at our house. We actually opened our gifts one at a time, each person taking their turn and paying attention to each person during their turn. I'm amazed that my sister and I had that much patience as kids, but apparently we did. Inevitably, one gift was matching nightclothes for my sister and I, which we would wear that night. The pictures on Christmas morning of us exploring our stockings and Santa gifts always had us in matching nightclothes. Were your Santa gifts wrapped? Ours never were. We each had a pile of Santa gifts in our designated space. My sister and I were different enough it was never hard to tell which pile belonged to whom.

Thank you notes
We wrote thank you cards. One of the...umm...benefits of us opening gifts one at a time is that someone could keep a list for each person of what they got and from whom. The few days after Christmas my sister and I would spend a little time each day writing thank you notes, whether we liked the gift or not. Somewhere over the years I got out of this habit...but shh...don't tell my mother. She'd be apalled. [Hi, Mom!]

Animal mischief
Hazards of wrapped gifts generally involved the cat and curling ribbon. She loved curling ribbon. She'd chew on it, eat it, and generally massacre any curling ribbon she could find, including ribbon still on the roll! We had to make sure any gift with curling ribbon under the tree was under another gift so she couldn't get to it. She also had a blast playing with the wrapping paper after we opened gifts. That, to her, was an awesome gift. A big pile of crinkled up paper and paper balls to attack and spaz out in. And don't forget the boxes to hide in. A kitty dream, I tell you.

Wish lists
We all keep wish lists. You know you do. Even if you never write it down you have a list in your head of things you'd love to have. My sister and I would spend hours going over the big toy book from whatever department store we got it from. It was sad the day Sears discontinued their Wish Book. I have many a fond memory of me, my sister, that book, and a marker for circling the things we wanted. As kids, our gifts weren't nearly as practical, but as we got older, they became more so, although there was always that one thing on the list just because you wanted it, no practicality necessary.

Now I keep my wish list on line via Amazon. With friends and family scattered all over the globe, it's the easiest way to let people know what I'm interested in. My wish lists usally consist of things I'd love to have and that I would use, but that I'd probably never buy for myself. And of course, it's not just one big unorganized list, but rather multiple lists, each with a different theme: DVDs, kitchen, music, etc. [Before you pick on me, remember, I organize things for a living. It's what catalogers, us librarians maintaining the library catalog, do.] I try to get my friends to give their wish lists as well. Sometimes I find that perfect gift that's not on their wish list (the things you see that just "scream" that person), but usually I stick to the list.

What kind of gifts do you give? Practical or just fun stuff?

Identity ping pong

Ever feel like a ping pong ball? That's about the most accurate description of what's happening with law enforcement and my identity theft case. No one seems to think it's their jurisdiction. So where does that leave me? Filing paperwork with every agency I can think of.

When I first found out that accounts had been opened, I knew I had to file various reports with various law enforcement agencies. What I didn't know was just how difficult that would be to accomplish.

First step. Find the non-emergency number for the city police department (harder than it sounds, really). Call the city police because I used to live in the city. They refer me to the county since that's where the accounts were opened. I call the county. They tell me that the accounts were actually opened in several different police districts of the county, each with their OWN police department. Grand. They then recommend I call the district that covers the address the individual is using when opening these accounts. Logical...makes sense to me. So I get that number and call them.

They don't want me to file a report because there's "nothing we can do here." Simply put, since I don't know WHEN or WHERE the theft of my information occurred, they can't/won't do anything. The fact that I can give them the names of the places the accounts were opened, and the ADDRESS they've used for ALL the accounts that's IN THEIR DISTRICT and that I have the description on the fake driver's license they're using isn't enough. I have to know WHEN and WHERE the theft of my information occurred. If I knew that, I would have dealt with it then and wouldn't be dealing with identity theft now, DUH! Eventually, they take down all the information I have, and give me a report number to give to the credit agencies and the creditors when I file paperwork with them. They recommend I call the Postal Inspector and file a report. Great, thanks for your help.

Next I call the FTC. I go through all the insane automated menus, pressing 1 or 2 or entering numbers accordingly so the computer can figure out where to send me. I finally get a real person. I tell her EVERYTHING I know about my situation, knowing that in this case, more information is definitely better. What I or they don't know can hurt me this time. I tell her about the police department and give her the report number. I then ask her a series of questions about other organizations/agencies I had been told to call and file a report with. First I asked her about my local police department. She says that it isn't necessary because all the fraud has occurred in another state, and halfway across the country at that. Next I ask her about the Postal Inspector. She asks if all my mail has been forwarding properly and if anything went missing or just didn't show up. I tell her no, I'm getting everything I'm supposed to. She explains that since there's no evidence or even a clear possibility (like if a credit card bill hadn't shown up), the Postal Inspector can't do anything. She recommends I send a copy of the ID Theft Affidavit to each of the three credit agencies to back up my credit report dispute, but that I was doing everything I was supposed to and filing all the appropriate paperwork. I think she's impressed that I'm actually on top of things and doing what I'm supposed to be doing, but I'm still stressed as hell.

For good measure, I do call my local Postal Inspector office. I talk to a nice person doing triage of the phone calls/help-desk duty, since I'm not sure what department I should be talking to. They tell me the same thing the FTC did. That without evidence or even any inkling of mail fraud/theft/etc. there's nothing they can do. They can't even file a report without the clear possibility of mail fraud. I have no such evidence or inkling, especially since I've received all my bills, magazines, letters, etc. since I've moved. The paper (very important, use the PAPER) change of address/mail forwarding form from the USPS I filled out is in full effect and working like a charm (as opposed to the online filing, print it out and take it to your local office instead, trust me) so the possibility of them gaining my information through mail fraud is slim, though not impossible, fairly slim.

So now it's on the creditors and the credit agencies to follow up on all the paperwork I filed regarding my fraud claims, the theft of my identity, and the credit file disputes to clear things up. One of the creditors calls me today and tells me they contacted the police department I filed the report with as part of their process, and was told that they're NOT INVESTIGATING and asked me if I had done what they suggested (and told her they suggested) and filed a report with the Postal Inspector. I explain what both the Postal Inspector help-desk/triage person AND the nice woman from the FTC told me, that it's not postal jurisdiction. Apparently, other than Federal, it's no one's jurisdiction, and the FTC doesn't have authority to bring cases, they just keep a clearinghouse of all the complaints and make them available to other law enforcement agencies.

So my case, and my identity, is now a ping pong ball being tossed around by the various law enforcement agencies until someone misses and has to deal with picking it up. No wonder I'm queasy.

Holiday traditions: Part 1, the tree

What kind of traditions does your family have? Or do you have any? It's always interesting to hear what my friends did growing up.

In my family, we had several traditions. Nice ones, in my opinion. These centered around certain things: gifts, food, entertainment, the tree, and, well, miscellaneous (some things you just can't categorize...which drives the OCD librarian in me nuts!). I'll break this up into a few posts, to keep it manageable.

The Tree

We always cut our own tree. Always. And we were often the last family on the block to have our tree up, as we'd wait until two weekends before Christmas to go get the tree. We'd bundle up and head out as a family either on Saturday or Sunday afternoon to a local tree farm and find the perfect tree. After one of us (Dad when we were young) crawled on the ground to cut the tree down, we'd carry it back to have it shook (pine needle shower!) and bagged (netted?) and tie it to the top of the car with the trunk facing front for aerodynamics and so the wind didn't harm the branches. We always used the same blanket for this...a striped picnic blanket. I still have that blanket in the back of my car, and it still has pine sap on it, despite the repeated washings. While we waited, there was hot cider or cocoa to drink and things to see or animals to pet and play with. Sometimes there were local crafts to look at (and buy if desired). We often got different types of pine, but it was always the same routine, no matter where we lived. One year we found a tree whose cones were still attached. They had opened, releasing their seeds, but the cones held on instead of falling. We tied little red ribbons around the top of each cone, effectively turning them into nature-made ornaments.

We'd get the tree home, and put together the stand and get the tree up. This involved my sister, Mom and myself standing in three different places around the room checking to make sure it was straight and Dad holding the trunk and somehow not losing his patience with us all three giving him directions at once. Mom spread an old sheet down first, to catch some of the needles. This sheet would eventually be hidden by the tree skirt, but for the first few days the tree stood, undecorated so it could relax and acclimate, in the living or family room with an old sheet beneath it. It looked a bit undignified, but the house smelled fantastic. There's nothing like a fresh tree.

Part of the reason we got our tree so late is so that it would last the full 12 days of Christmas. It never came down until that 12th day, when the 3 magi arrived at the manger. This is Janurary 5th. So our tree may have gone up later than everyone elses, but it stayed up long past when everyone took theirs down. I remember the Christmas tree carnage up and down the street, usually around the 1st of the year.

Once the tree had relaxed and become acclimated to the warmer house, the decorating began. This was usually a few days after the tree arrived. Dad put the lights up, atleast 3 strings, covering every inch of the tree with little lights. There were never blinking lights in our house...they gave us all headaches and tormented the cat and dog.

Then came the ornaments. Ornaments in our house were special. Each year my sister and I got to pick out a new ornament, representing something from the previous year that we did, an important event, or an interest/hobby. We each had our own box, and we'd pull out the ornaments one by one and line them up in chronological order. Mom had stuck little lables to the bottom of each one with our first initial and the year (if it wasn't on the ornament) to keep them separated. It was fascinating to look at them over the years and see how our interests had changed, or not as the case may be (three years in a row I chose ornaments involving a swing). The purpose behind this tradition of an ornament every year was simple: this way my sister and I would have enough ornaments to decorate our own tree when we moved out on our own. As we got older, some years involved two or three ornaments. Often we'd start a series from Hallmark and continue to get the series but still get a separate ornament for the year. My mom and dad each had their own ornaments to add to the tree as well. As did our "adopted" family member, Marjean. She spent every Christmas with us, and had her own ornaments and stocking.

The result of these many different collections of ornaments was a very eclectic and colorful tree. When we were younger and didn't have very many, we had the traditional ornaments (balls and snowflakes) to fill in the gaps, but by the time we were both in high school we often had trouble finding space for all of our personal ornaments. We never had themed trees. Well, I guess our tree was a theme...it showed how while we were all very very different, we could come together and despite our differences make something beautiful. I loved looking at our tree and seeing each of us represented on it.

Last came the tree topper: a brass 3-D star. It wasn't solid, but rather two flat stars that slid together to form the 3-D one. It was all intricately carved out and the lights reflected off of it beautifully. Since my sister was born in an odd year and me in an even year, we'd trade off who got to put the topper on (with Dad's help, of course); even years it was me, odd years it was her. [A very simple way to prevent fighting, no? Mom used this even/odd trick for all sorts of things, including chores like dishes.] With animals, other tree "finishers" like popcorn chains were out of the question. And we weren't a garland family, but we used to do icicles (those plastic silver metallic things you had to separate and drape individually over branches that static clung to everything), until the year we found out they could kill our pets. Not to worry, this wasn't found out the hard way, but rather via the news.

It's funny, I've been out of the house for over a decade now and yet I still continue the tradition of getting a new ornament every year. I have a little mini fake tree (3 feet) that I put up, so now I have not only a collection of regular sized ornaments, but mini ones as well. It even has a mini version of our star tree topper that my mom found one year. My tree, small or large, continues to be eclectic, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Guilty pleasures

We all have them. We don't talk about them, usually preferring to enjoy them in the privacy of our own homes. Sometimes we enjoy them in public, whether it be a good yet cheesy movie, or a decadent dessert.

One such dessert that comes to mind is Stick Toffee Pudding from the Schlafly restaurants in St. Louis, Missouri. It's so incredibly decadent and rich, I can't eat an entire order myself, and that's saying a lot.

Other guilty pleasures are definitely not things you want to admit to. What comes to mind first for me is bad tv. Really bad tv. The kind of tv you almost can't even believe you're watching yet next thing you know it's two hours later. I find myself getting sucked into shows when flicking through the channels. I have tv shows I enjoy and admit to watching, and those I try not to acknowledge, yet I still enjoy watching them. Guilty pleasures.

Movies can be the same way. I love me a really bad movie. We're talking possibly not even to the level of a B movie bad, although a decidedly B movie is just as enjoyable. It can be embarrassing to catch an obscure reference to a movie that no one admits to ever having seen. Campy sci-fi movies ("Alien Nation" with it's equally campy tv spinoff or any of a number of alien invasion movies), "dick flicks" (such as the cult classic "Army of Darkness" or the really awful "Soldier"), cheesy action flicks, sappy movies, "chick flicks" (pick a Lifetime movie, any Lifetime movie), bad musicals ("The Pirate Movie" anyone?), I've enjoyed them all, even if I'll never admit it in conversation.

Proving my identity

So the past few days I've been dealing with the theft of my identity. I've learned a few things, and have become very adept at explaining the situation succinctly and clearly, both on the phone and in paperwork.

Things I've done:

1. Completed multiple copies of the federal ID Theft Affidavit
2. Called the credit agencies on my credit report to report the fraud and to begin proceedings to have the fraudulent accounts removed from my credit record.
3. Cried.
4. Filed a police report.
5. Filed a report with the FTC.
6. Screamed.
7. Requested copies of my credit report from the other two credit agencies.
8. Talked to my bank.
9. Spent A LOT of time on the phone.
10. Done a lot of research online trying to make sure I'm doing everything I need to do to protect myself and my credit.
11. Tried to figure out (theoretically) how this person got my info (nothing has been stolen, so suggestions?)

I've also learned a bit more about the situation. It appears to be an individual that is using my identity to establish themselves. They've used the same address for everything. All activity is limited to the same metro area where I used to live.

I'm angry right now. And scared. I'm feeling helpless and violated. I know I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do to prove the theft, but that doesn't change the fact that the credit agencies and even the government have to believe me. I'm fairly certain they will (it's quite clear, actually, that this person stole my identity), but it's scary to think that someone wouldn't believe me when I tell them who I am. And it's frustrating that it's MY responsibility to prove it.

The thing that's pissing me off the most...they may be using the correct form of my Social Security Number and my birthdate, but they've spelled my last name wrong. And the fcuking credit agencies didn't catch it or raise a red flag that the last name on the fake driver's license they're using doesn't match the name on the (my) credit file/Social Security Number they're using to get the credit. They didn't do their job of verifying data before opening credit lines and now I'm paying for it. And there's no excuse for that.

Protecting my identity

I discovered something really scary recently. Someone is using my Social Security Number.

The beginning of November I logged onto my online banking site and discovered a new checking account. What? I didn't open a new account! So I called the bank. I discovered that someone had opened the account using my SSN, but not my name, the day before. It was opened by someone in a city where I used to live, at a branch of my bank there. I promptly had them close the account and was happy to learn that no cards (debit or credit) had been issued yet. A few days later, I got the signature form to issue said cards in the mail. I called the bank again to make sure, and yes, the account was closed, and the form had been mailed before I called the first time.

In addition to having the bank close my account and set up a security function where they flag my SSN (someone calls me if anyone attempts to use my SSN), I called one of the three the credit report company and had them flag my credit file with a "fraud alert" for 90 days. That company then notifies the other two. Once I had all three confirmation letters that my credit file was successfully flagged with the alert, I requested a copy of my credit report from one of them. [I do this annually anyway, around my birthday (a date that's easy to remember), just to be safe.]

Yesterday I got said credit report in the mail. I was horrified and freaked out to discover that someone had opened not one, not two, but THREE lines of credit in September using my SSN, all three of them opened in same city as the attempted checking account. Two loans and one open line of credit for a total of just over $50,000. I now have a pile of things I have to do to protect myself from being responsible for these accounts and to get them removed from my credit report and to stop it from happening again. I started an investigation into the fraudulent accounts with the credit company. I have to call all three companies that the accounts were opened with and notify them that someone opened the account using my SSN, and that they need to start their paperwork to file the accounts as fraudulent. There are several forms to fill out and paperwork to deal with. I also need to file a police report with the local police department, which is part of the Identity Theft Report. I'm going to get copies of my credit report from the other two credit agencies, for comparison and to make sure there's nothing else.

There's a list of things you have to do on the FTC webpages that address ID theft, including a 52 page document explaining each step and how to protect yourself.

Watch over your Social Security Number. You have a right to request that an organization use a different number as you ID number. Other than for a credit check or tax reporting, there's no reason they need it. Ask questions about why they want it, how it's to be used, and for them to use a different number for your ID. If they say no or you are uncomfortable with any of their answers, take your business elsewhere if at all possible. No one has to use your SSN as your ID number for any reason, and other than credit checks and for tax purposes, no company needs it for general record keeping or paperwork either.

And for those of you that don't make a habit of using your legal right to an annual free credit report ... DO IT! Better safe than sorry.

Moving

I've moved a lot in my life. More than the average human, I'm sure (with the one exception being nomads but I think I could give them a run for their money).

My most recent move brought me to Philadelphia in September. That's less than 4 months ago. Other than hanging pictures and rearranging my storage options (which are limited due to very few closets in my new place), I'm unpacked. I'm still figuring out where to put a few things, but everything that was coming out a box is out of the box. I'm getting this packing, moving, and unpacking thing down to an art, but it's still a pain in the ass.

I can find my way to and from work almost on autopilot now. But that's on my bike. I haven't attempted the bus yet, but I do know which bus to take and have printed out the schedules. I only live a little over 2 miles from work. [Side note: yes, 'da hood exists less than 2 miles from major university and college campuses. As I mentioned previously, the area is "transitional" so it is being re-developed, mainly by the university.] I ride my bike for many reasons: the environment, the price of gas, the irritation that is commuting by car, I need the exercise (I've dropped a pant size in 3 months!) and lastly, I cannot justify paying $130 a MONTH to park on campus less than 3 miles from my home. Seriously. Especially living near a bus line that stops 2 blocks from the library and only 1 1/2 blocks from my house. Good God. $130/month? Are they freakin' kidding me? I still have loans to pay off!

Back to the issues of moving, I found my way to and from major shopping needs (Target, groceries, etc.) without getting lost once for the first time in November. I get lost a lot. It's how I learn my way around. I come from my mother's school of learning a new city...get lost a lot when you first arrive, get the car towed once for good measure (be sure to keep some "mad" money in you wallet at all times to get your car out of impound), and after that, nothing fazes you and you can find your way just about anywhere. Last weekend I found my way successfully (admittedly with help from a friend from work who came along) to Whole Foods and Trader Joe's. I'm now po' again.

I've found the bank, the post office, and learned a very important lesson. Unless you have HOURS of extra time, do NOT drive into downtown Philly. If you do have to drive downtown, build in plenty of time to deal with people double parking and blocking the street and to find a parking place. And bring lots and lots of change for the parking meter. LOTS of change. I already got a parking ticket. On a SUNDAY morning before noon. Go figure.

Over the next few months I will be trying to find good food, good bars/drinks, and hopefully a social/dating life. Yes, I'm single, and dating can be hazardous to your health I know, and I've heard stories about trying to date in Philly that scare me. So my adventures should generate some pretty entertaining posts. Either that or they'll be as depressing as hell. Time will tell.

Food and cooking

I love food. I love to cook food. I love trying new recipes and experimenting and adapting and trying new, different, and sometimes strange foods. If I have to eat the same thing too many times in a week or even a month I get bored.

I blame this need for variety in my diet on my mother. She was forever trying new recipes, sometimes with excellent results, and sometimes we ended up eating cereal or PB&J instead. She only made the same recipe at most twice in a month and had an accordion file stuffed full with recipes to try clipped from newspapers and magazines. We didn't have leftovers, we had buffets once a week. These buffets may have been the remains of the meals from the week, but wow, what variety. Hence buffet rather than leftovers.

Despite the variety, we had our family favorites and traditions. My mom kept them in a shoebox because they no longer fit in a standard recipe box. When I got my first place, I went through that recipe box and picked out some favorites, which my mom then wrote out on cards to start my own box. My box ended up almost 3/4 the way full and I hadn't even started adding new stuff! Since then, I've found other recipes I didn't get the first time around, most of them family traditions or memories, that I've had to call my grandmother or my aunt or my mom to get. I now need a second recipe box as there is very little room left in the first. What's worse is that I have my own accordion file of recipes to try on top of the full recipe box of ones I already know I love and enjoy! And I watch too much Food Network (favorites include Alton Brown and Iron Chef) which only makes it worse as it gives me lots of ideas.

I used to help my mom make dinner and desserts. The most impressive looking holiday dessert yet deceptively easy one to make was Pumpkin Roll. Always a hit. And I could make it my myself with very little help by the time I was 8 years old. The first dinner I remember cooking all on my own was a cheese souffle. It was part of a vegetarian dinner I made to earn a Girl Scout patch on cooking. I was no more than 10. What's amazing is that it didn't fall. It turned out perfect. I was hooked.

Cooking is instant gratification. I love the process. I love enjoying the results. And it's time I can legitimately take for myself after a long day at work without feeling guilty. This was especially useful during graduate school, as it gave me time to relax before I had to tackle my assignments.

The downside to this love of cooking and food is that I have developed expensive tastes. I can tell the difference between good olive oil and poor quality olive oil. This means I end up spending a larger percentage of my take home pay (after bills and some savings of course) on groceries. The way I see it, I can get books and videos from the library for free, so I don't need to spend money on them. I don't need to purchase new clothes all that often. Other than gifts for friends and spoiling my dog, I'd rather spend my money on food than almost anything else.

SNOW!!

First snow of the season!

Yes, that is snow. I swear.

I actually love snow. I love the crunch sound it makes when you walk on it. I love the way you can see snowflake clusters on your clothing when you're out in it. I love the way it makes everything look so soft, like a big pillow is laid over everything. I love how Aussie loves to catch snowballs and eat them. I love snow. I always have. I even like it when it's all dirty and slushy (although yellow snow is to be avoided at all costs).

Unfortunately, the ground is so warm probably none of it will stick. That's the worst kind of snow...the tease. It's in the air, but it melts when it lands.

Some days are just boring

So, apparently some days are just too boring to blog about. Today was one of those days. I have nothing.

Other days I SWEAR someone is taping my life to make a sitcom out of it because these things just don't happen to normal people. There are many players in the sitcom that is my life, and we seem to trade episodes. When my life is boring, they have random sh*t happening in their lives and when my life is a sitcom they have a boring day like I did today.

I think I better call some of my friends and find out what completely un-fcuking-believeable thing happened to them today...

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Addendum, 9:30pm. See, I told you, when my day is boring, something interesting happens to one of my friends. I checked my e-mail and what do you know, one of my best friends and her partner just bought their first house! I'm so excited for them I can hardly stand it! Congratulations to Lori and Matt! So, Home Depot or Lowe's gift card for Christmas this year?

About me [and my dog]

OK, so this post is really about my dog, because as all doggie mommies and daddies know, the dog is really in charge.

Aussie is probably the oddest dog you will ever meet. Her heritage is constantly up for debate, mainly because no one, not even the vet, knows what her mix is for sure. She's listed on all her "official" paperwork (we travel, so vaccination records, health documents, etc. are a necessity) as a Basset Hound mix. The Basset Hound is clear. No one disputes it. She is long and short. It's the other half that's a mystery. In the past, guessing her mix has been a party game. I'm not joking, but laugh away. Guesses have included Labrador, Dalmatian and even Beagle. The two most common guesses are Bull Terrier (think the recent Target dog, or for those of us that predate that, Spuds McKenzie) and Pit Bull. Four out of five vets agree, one or both of these two are the most likely.

In my neighborhood her probable mix with Pit Bull gains her (and me by default) some respect. I live in 'da hood, by almost any definition of that phrase. I believe (to co-op a term used by my friend Bon) the PC term is "transitional" or "recovering" neighborhood. But let's be clear, it's 'da hood. Since moving here a few months ago I've had multiple offers to buy her and several requests to breed her. Why they would want to do that is beyond me, because she is really quite bizarre, in appearance and attitude.

A few facts about my dog:
-She is a rescue (technically I'm her fourth owner)
-She's about 11 years old, and for 10 years and 3 months of her life she's been with me
-She's very very sweet, and generally well behaved in other people's homes
-She's very strong (47 pounds of fur, muscle and bone - my dog is in better shape than I am)
-She's very smart

I have evidence of the last point. She speaks 3 languages (as alluded to by another friend): dog, English and Spanish. See, I was finishing up my BA in Spanish when I got her, and well, it's my own damn fault. I spoke to her in Spanish and English, flagrantly disregarding the training tenet of consistency, and as a result, I have a dog that chooses which language she's going to obey. She also has a full vocabulary of growls, grunts, barks, whines and sighs and anybody that spends any time with her at all starts to tell the difference between them quickly.

Further evidence of her intelligence can be witnessed in her ability to open things. This includes Tupperware containers (I still have the bowl for evidence, see picture below) and her kennel. We are on our third kennel (or crate, whichever term you prefer) because she learned to open the first two. All containers of food (hers or mine) are either out of doggie reach on the kitchen counter with no stool or chair nearby for her to use to get to it or have a locking or screw-top lid.

The much abused bowl

The downside to her intelligence is that it took me YEARS to train her. I'd tell her to do something and she'd give me this "you've got to be kidding me" look and do the EXACT opposite. I used every trick in the book to convince her that I'm the alpha dog in this pack of two and while it took time and patience, it did work. I have a remarkably well behaved dog and never have to worry about kids coming/running up to or climbing on her, other dogs, or taking her anywhere. Other animals are always welcome in our home (yes, even cats, I used to have one but more on her another time). The only exception to this rule are chipmunks. Aussie hates chipmunks. I can't explain it, but you've been warned.

The one thing that no one ever believes is that I "bought" her (i.e. paid a very small adoption fee) sight unseen. Yes, it's true. Although her odd appearance wouldn't have mattered because as everyone tells me, she's completely adorable. I got her from a terrier rescue organization in the Pacific Northwest and I chose her entirely based on personality. I knew what kind of dog I wanted, specifically, one that could roll with the punches and deal with change. And she does deal with change. Nothing fazes this dog. Seriously. I've driven with her cross country more than once, we've moved over 5 times (I'm counting states, not apartments/homes), I've flown her several times (including once to Australia) and none of it has seemed to affect her one bit. And I'm grateful for that. So very very grateful.

I can't imagine or even remember life without her. And I don't want to. Aussie makes me laugh on a daily basis, snuggles when I need it and is truly a blessing in my life. I could go on for days and days about my dog, but suffice to say, she's my baby dog. Needless to say, there will be more dog posts on this blog.

Forming a new habit

I do believe I'm one of the last of my friends to create a blog. More than once I've thought "gee, this completely random experience would make a great blog post," so here we go.

I've never been very good at keeping a diary, or a journal, or anything else that involves writing something on a regular basis. I admire those that do, and my bookshelf is littered with attempts. I've bought journals and diaries that are visually appealing (what a pretty cover! and look, the pages are multicolored too!), thematic (such as the left handers journal or journals full of quotes by women), or just plain ruled notebooks (remember those black and white composition notebooks?) yet none of them have encouraged me to write with any sort of regularity.

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit...and I'm about to find out if that is true with this blog.