The following are all the posts from my old blog, miamitocostarica.com .
I'm keeping them to remind me of the whole moving-to-CR thing.
;-)
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
February 4, 2010
This.
"...better to belong where you don't belong than not to belong where you used to belong, remembering when you used to belong there." - Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men
Oh, and Happy New Year! ;-)
November 4, 2009
Taxis, still nasty.
The other day India (age 7) and I decided to take pictures of stuff we thought was gross (her idea). I had an appointment at the hospital and she hates going there. She says people catch diseases at hospitals. She asked for my camera at one point and took a photo of the thing she was most grossed out by.A used band-aid, stuck to a wall in the lobby.
I seriously need to think about getting a car.
October 2, 2009
Lobster Babies
The fish at my local grocery store sucks, so I was really happy when my doorbell rang one day and I met The Fish Guy. The Fish Guy has fresh corvina (bream?) and pargo (snapper) and pulpo (octopus) and camarón (shrimp) and, every so often, langosta (lobster). He calls once a week and if I'm around and in the mood for what he's got, I place an order and he delivers later that same day.
Last week he had lobster and I ordered 2 kilos. It was fresh and smelled great, but I was a little taken aback by how small they were. Really small. Like, taken from their mommies, small. I'm willing to bet that if you got caught with these in Florida, they'd fine your ass.I don't know the laws here - if there are any - so I'm wondering if I should continue to buy them. Until I get an answer one way or the other, I'm going to continue to eat them. Small or not, they were fantastic.
October 1, 2009
Tico Drivers
Hey, this guy can't be any worse than most of the drivers on Costa Rica's roads.
September 26, 2009
Yogurt
I'm thinking about getting a yogurt maker. The kind that heats up, because that's the only kind that will make Greek-style yogurt. If you don't know the difference, you don't know what you're missing. If you're somewhere you can just go out and buy it, do so, it's delicious.
Buying yogurt here is a pain. If you want fat-free, day-glo pink or green yogurt with artificial fruit, as much sugar as a regular coke and enough preservatives to last 6 months, the choices are endless. If you want full-fat, plain, unsweetened yogurt with no preservatives or additives, choices are slim and sometimes, none.
I can get the yogurt I like at the weekly organic feria - as long as I'm there early and the supplier has more than 6 liters of yogurt. Often, I'm not quick enough and I get zip. Also, the yogurt is made from goat's milk and, while I like it, I like the milder cow's milk for certain recipes.
So, I have to decide if I'm going to have my husband pick one up in Miami. I'll order it and have it sent to my mom, I can't make T pick one out, the only thing he wants to do in Miami is eat a cheeseburger and buy a new 'Canes t-shirt.
If you have a yogurt maker, how often do you use yours? Any brand to recommend? Anything I need to know?
However, if you know where I can buy some plain, full-fat, unsweetened, Greek-style yogurt somewhere in the San José area, let me know and I can just forget all this. Every time I bring home a new kitchen appliance, I have to hear T's speech about how I got rid of his juicer and the run-down of all the wonderful things his juicer did and I have to listen without rolling my eyes and saying anything mean and, honestly, it gets tougher every time.
September 18, 2009
Need new contact lenses.
I was typing up the last post at 11:00 last night and, as I waited for the photo to load, I read the options on the toolbar. The word that caught my eye and made me gasp and blink was the font choice "Arial", in the left-hand corner. I would have sworn, for just a moment, until my brain assured me otherwise, that the word I was looking at was "Anal". I actually wondered if that was some new font. I wanted to click it and see what an "anal" font would look like. I need to change my contact lenses. Either the one week variety really can't be worn safely for a month or I need to update my prescription.September, 2009
Knish!
Maybe there is a God. The other night I went with a couple of friends to grab falafel sandwiches for dinner. There are actually a couple of places you can do this in San José, but for consistently good, fresh falafel, you can't beat Little Israel in Escazu at the centro commercial (strip mall) Los Laureles. As it happened, we picked a good day to drop in there. The owner had fresh labneh (yogurt soft cheese) and, even better, fresh-made knish (pastry wrapped around potato and onion filling)! I bought both and brought them home all excited that I was going to have knish again for the first time since I stopped dating the bagel guy. Tom was unimpressed and told me he wasn't interested in eating what looked to him like a potato hoagie. Pffft! His loss. The knish was divine, but unless I want to weigh 500lbs. I need to find someone to share it with. As it is, I ate enough of this one to satisfy any starch cravings for the next month.
September 17, 2009
Modern Art
My seven year old daughter is being home-schooled and, in an effort to provide her with fun, creative things to do, I've been hoarding toilet paper rolls. So many, in fact, that the maid has started throwing them away and has told me that she'll start saving them again when it looks like we're using them for something. A few months back, my kid decided to make "binoculars" and put a couple of them together, decorated them and called them "Jungle Glasses". Stylish, huh?
Just so you know, the "fur trim" is faux. Shaved off some hapless stuffed animal that outlived it's usefulness. They manage to be disturbing and hilarious at the same time and isn't that what a lot of modern art is all about?
September 16, 2009
Dream a little dream...
Last night I was having this very strange dream; I was surrounded by kangaroos and Drew Cary was standing in front of me blubbering about he couldn't see me anymore because he thought I was cheating on him with the kangaroos. I remember being rather irritated with Drew. (Mostly because he would be leaving me and that meant I wouldn't be getting any more hot dream sex.) In the middle of all this, the kangaroos parted and a moose walked through. Drew even stopped sobbing long enough to watch the moose. As it walked, it made this odd SLAP-CLICK sound. SLAP-CLICK, SLAP-CLICK, SLAP-CLICK... Suddenly Drew said, "You want the moose too, don't you?" and he ran off shrieking. Damn it, now I was going to have to go after him. Weenie. When I turned around, the moose was gone and all the kangaroos were standing around looking off in the direction it had walked. I could still hear the SLAP-CLICK, SLAP-CLICK of it's hooves, but now instead of getting quieter, the sound was getting louder and then suddenly I was awake and sitting up. I sat in bed for a few seconds trying to figure out what I was hearing and then I got up and went to the window. I was just in time to see a rather nicely-dressed man, carrying a bottle in one hand and walking down the street with a pronounced limp: SLAP-CLICK, SLAP-CLICK, SLAP-CLICK. I'm pretty sure it was the new neighbor. I went back to bed and dreamed that Drew was showing me rentals in Escazu. He told me he could show me a condo with a tennis court if I never looked at another kangaroo. I need stop eating frosting out of the can before I go to bed.
September 4, 2009
Whenever you wonder if anyone is really that stupid...
...why yes, they are:
Maybe education in the U.S. needs a little improvement too?
September 4, 2009
Whenever you wonder if anyone is really that stupid...
...why yes, they are:
Maybe education in the U.S. needs a little improvement too?
June 24, 2009
If I were 16 and drunk, I'd be pregnant by now.
May 23, 2009
That's not okay.
What the Hell do you mean you're "out of butter"? I was so irate the 
May 21, 2009
Spock Trek
May 17, 2009
And again...
Well, no baby on deck last month, so we're trying again. I'm on day two of this month's dose of Serophene and I feel like shit. I take the pill early in the morning and by 10am my vision is blurry, I have a headache and I'm nauseated. I'm also fairly certain that my usually very low blood pressure is elevated. The tight feeling in my ears makes me think my head is going to explode.Around 2 or 3pm, I expect to feel dizzy and have the first of several hot flashes.
This will go on for three more days. On the sixth day, when I stop taking the Serophene, I'll feel fine. Then, a few days later, I'll feel a little draggy and tired and maybe have little twinges in my abdomen. That's about the time I'm supposed to feel sexy and ready to make a baby. Five days of "do-it-now" sex and then ten more days of waiting to see if we got it right. I really don't know which sucks more, the crappy way I feel from the drug or the dread I feel about the results oriented sex. No matter how much (or little) fun we have completing our assignment, I worry afterward the way I worried after tests in high school - did I get it completely right? Did I dot every "i" and cross every "t"?
As if all of that isn't enough, seeing as I'm a world-class worrier, I then worry that I have gotten pregnant and I fret over every thing I put in my mouth, every aspirin, every glass of wine. Stop drinking the wine? Oh, Hell no. That (and chocolate) may be the only things keeping me together every month.
So, here we go again. Yet another month where I will spend five days torturing my poor husband with panicked ovulation kit readings. Let's hope it's the last.
May 6, 2009
Garbage, only more worthless.
Mahatma Gandhi said, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.”Look closely:
This is Abby Toll, a 20 year old University of Colorado student who got pissed at her boyfriend for not kicking his dog out of their apartment. This little shit-speck then took the dog, wrapped it in packing tape and stuck it, upside down, to a refrigerator. The dog had a plastic bag on it's head, elastic bands on it's snout, ears and feet and had been badly scalded weeks earlier while being given a "bath". She's being charged with a felony but, by the time all is said and done, if she's convicted of anything, it'll likely be a misdemeanor and she might have to take a class. Her boyfriend sounds like a bit of an asshole too. What she did was pretty bad, but those of us who have rescued dogs and collected and loved abused, neglected and abandoned animals know that it could have been worse. Too bad she won't do some time.
Oh and this is Rex - her victim.
May 3, 2009
Have you washed your hands today?
Ten points to which ever genius at the Hallmark channel that came up with the idea of airing Steven King's 
May 1, 2009
Holy, holy, holy....
A story from CNN online:
Survey: Churchgoers more likely to back torture
Why would this story surprise anyone? Hasn't anyone heard of the Inquisiton?
April 23, 2009
Better late than never...
I totally forgot that I had this photo. I also tend not to be too up on my religious holidays...
How would you use these?
April 22, 2009
An 'A' for effort.
While our cat, Cheese, may not have the best aim, she is at least concientious enough to cover up her mistakes. You'd think if she could cover it up so neatly, she should have been able to crap in the damn box in the first place.
April 19, 2009
One more time?
Our seven year old daughter has old parents. We're not retirement aged but, by the time she's 17, we'll be 50-ish and 60-ish. I'm an only child and we're not super-close with our extended families. While we've always thought about having another kid, the biggest reason we'd like another is that we don't want our daughter to find herself alone in her thirties or forties. And, if we live as long as our grandparents did (99 and 101), it's only fair she should have someone else to pawn us off on. Nothing lightens the load like knowing it's someone else's turn next time.
The first kid took nearly five years and twenty months with a fertility specialist before we were finally given the diagnosis of "unexplained infertility". In case you're unfamiliar, that's doc talk for "everything checks out, so we're stumped". Clomid worked the first time we tried it, but that pregnancy tanked at 7 weeks and I was too frazzled to try again right away. Three months later, two months before I was to enter a GIFT trial, I got pregnant the old-fashioned way: lots of wine and a hotel room. Woo-hoo!
This time, rather than having to go through the stress, inconvenience and cost of infertility diagnosis, we were able to cut to the chase. The doc at CIMA, the 'big' hospital here in the Central Valley, handed me Serophene last month and we started the chemical assisted version of the baby dance.
I hate taking non-recreational drugs. I worry about the side effects. I worry about the intended effects. I was not a happy camper when I was pregnant the last time. I worried about EVERYTHING. It was like a 9 month long panic attack. I worried about dying in childbirth (that was actually more of a phobia). I worried about what might be wrong with the baby. I worried about the amniocentesis. I worried about the fluoride in my toothpaste!
This time around, I worry that it might not happen at all. I worry that I'm too old, that the last egg has already shipped or, if there are any left, that they're wonky and unreliable.
Over the next few months I have decided that, in between bitching about taxis, neighbors and rain, I'm going to bitch about trying to get getting pregnant, past forty, in Costa Rica. At the very least, the extra hormones short-circuiting my famous coping skills and extra-ordinary patience should provide some entertainment for everyone.
March 28, 2009
No zoning - update
Ducky-du is now history. I came back to CR last week after three weeks in Miami and the first thing my neighbor Carol told me was that Ducky-du, the daycare from Hell, was closing. They'd already peeled the stupid sign and logo off the front of the house and pulled out all the little pinwheels in the garden. The evening I got back, I was getting into a cab to take my kid to her Ninjitsu class, when I saw Psycho-Tica driving up. I almost managed to be a grown-up about the whole thing and tried to just go on my way and ignore her. Unfortunately, I'm not that much of a grown-up and I stuck my tongue out at her and waved. No surprise, she gave me the finger. I've got my fingers crossed in regard to who ever rents that house next. I'm hoping for an older, deaf couple with no pets. Knowing my luck they'll rent it to the freakin' Brady Bunch or some religious cult like the one two streets over with all the creepy kids and tick-infested dogs. I'll keep you posted.
February 18, 2009
Toys for "refined" and "popular" kids...
When I see a cheap, plastic toy with lead-painted parts that several children will eventually choke on before it's finally recalled, I think of China. Apparently, the Chinese makers of the toy that my friend Judi spotted in the toy store a few weeks ago, intended something else entirely when using those two words on the fabulous "My Dream Castle" (The best gift for friend). 
Next, we have the "SWEET Dream Will Come True" play 
February 4, 2009
NOT Semi-Homemade.
Bordeaux Cherry Chocolate-Chip Ice Cream
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 1/2 cups whole milk
2/3 cup white sugar
pinch of salt
1 tsp. real vanilla extract
1 cup quartered frozen dark sweet cherries
1/3 cup puree of dark sweet cherries
1/3 to 1/2 cup extra-dark chocolate chips
Place cream, milk, sugar and salt in a saucepan and heat on medium until tiny bubbles form around the edges, stirring occasionally as sugar dissolves.
Pour mixture into a glass bowl, stir in the vanilla and refrigerate until very cold. At least 2 or 3 hours, more is better.
Pour chilled mixture into your ice-cream maker* and process according to manufacturer's directions. About half-way through processing, add cherries and puree. Add chips in the last couple of minutes.
Transfer ice cream to a plastic tub and let ripen for at least 2 hours.
*If you don't have an ice-cream maker, go out and buy one. They're cheap, easy to use and make better ice cream than you can buy if you live where I do. (Unless you're willing to shell out $8-$9 for imported) It'll only take a little longer than getting someone at Pop's to wait on you and you can eat it in your underwear on the couch.
Oh, and NO, I do not know how to make a 'lite' or 'low-fat' version and I have no intention of trying. Ice-cream is fattening. Period. Eat it on a treadmill if you need to, but don't eat the fat-free stuff, it's crap.February 2, 2009
No zoning. Part Two.
Our house and our neighbor's is owned by a very nice Tica lawyer. She was horrified by the whole day-care business and, knowing some folks in the municipality, decided to check Psycho-Tica and make sure all her papers and permits were in order. She told us she'd update us when she found out. Meanwhile, my neighbor, C., who hadn't signed, caught me after I'd come home one day and told me that P.T. had called her over that morning and, crocodile tears streaming down her face, had told her that she wouldn't be able to open legally unless she got the signature of the home-owners on either side. C. told her that that was probably a good thing and that she still wouldn't sign. P.T. stormed back into the house and slammed the door. We hoped that might be it, but the next day, a Monday, she was open for business! Five shrieking, screaming, crying toddlers were dropped off and tended to by two of the most hostile looking women I'd ever seen. The noise started around 7am and continued until around 6pm. A day later a sign went up announcing the name, phone number and hours of the day-care: Duckydu. Two weeks later, our landlady called and said that she had some good news - it seemed that Duckydu didn't have a license to be open, she'd lied on the forms saying that it was a "special needs" daycare (among other things) and that it was true she could not be open without the signatures of the homeowners on both sides of her day-care! She told us she would be reporting this to the municipality. Two weeks after, last Tuesday, an inspector showed up. We're now certain she has connections at least in the municipality. Ten minutes before the inspector showed up, her employees hustled the kids inside, pulled the shades and when the inspector knocked, they didn't answer. The inspector then spoke to my neighbor, C., who filled him in on what had been going on. It seems she was in violation of quite a few of the requirements for having a day-care. By the end of that day we were pretty sure her party was almost over. Even more so when our land-lady called us and told us that P.T. had called her and said that she was closing down. We were so thrilled, we didn't stop to wonder how she's gotten our landlady's home phone number. We were so thrilled that the next morning, when I left around 9:30 for my daughter's tennis lesson, I never imagined that (OMG!!) Immigration would come banging on my door less than an hour later, demanding my papers, my maid's papers and my neighbor's papers. It seems that Psycho-Tica was more 'connected' than we'd thought. By the time I got home, my neighbor was pretty freaked out and wondering what might happen next. The only good part is that we're all legal - including the maid AND we pay the maid's CAJA (like social security), so Psycho-Tica must have been pretty pissed off that nothing happened to us. The neighbor and I stood in our doorways and chatted about what she had done and what she might do next and we were entertained by P.T. driving around the block 6 or 7 times, watching us. She even sent some skeevy looking guy walking down the sidewalk to spy on us. He looked a bit suspicious and then we saw him jump into her car on her last pass and they drove off together. The next day I saw her standing outside the daycare and I smiled and waved. When she glanced around to see who I was waving to, I yelled that she might want to get Immigration to come a little earlier or later in the day or else they probably wouldn't catch me at home. She just scowled and stomped off.
All of that happened last week. Nothing else since and, as expected, she was open this morning and the sound of screaming kids was back by 7 AM. I'll keep you posted if anything else happens, but for now, my neighbor and I figure that the daycare's nap-time is likely around 1PM and from now on, we will be turning our speakers to the wall and cranking up the music right around that time.
February, 2009
No zoning. Part One.
Little bitch of doom.About a week into last December my doorbell rings and it's some little Tica chick wanting me to sign a piece of paper saying that I'm okay with her opening a daycare center two doors down from me. Seeing as I'm not deaf, stupid or crazy, I had to say no. Actually, I think I laughed first and then said, "No way." She was none too pleased. Her fake-o smile was promptly replaced with the psycho sneer I would see over and over in the coming weeks. "That's fine." she said, "I'll just talk to your neighbors." If you read my blog with any regularity or happen to know me personally, you'll know I don't generally trust most people to sit the right way 'round on a toilet seat but, for reasons I still can't explain, I figured that my neighbors would blow off this ding-a-ling and her daycare center as quickly as I did. For a split second I considered running to the neighbors I know and pointing out what a HORRIBLE idea this rug-rat repository would be, especially after a few of them have been so worried about security and noise and odd cars parked on our street. It turns out that I underestimated psycho-Tica and overestimated my neighbors. She came back the next morning and rang my doorbell and when I opened up to tell her to piss off, before I could speak, she waved a handful of signed papers at me and, sneering, said, "I don't need your signature, I have your neighbors and you can't do anything about it!" I spoke to the neighbor between my house and the proposed day-care and, of course, she hadn't signed. Then I spoke to the neighbor on the other side of me. She had signed. She said she thought it would be "cute" and that the girl had told her that she might be interested in hiring one of her teenagers to teach music. The mother of twins signed because she was told that the girl would give her a discount if she sent her kids. The teacher signed because the girl assured her it would be a bi-lingual primary school. The old guy signed because she said it would be a school for 'special needs' children. Two neighbors signed because they were told that another neighbor, who had refused to sign and begged them not to sign either, had had a change of heart and signed. All in all, two thirds of the signatures were generated by Psycho-Tica's lies and the neighbor's gullibility (I'm being nice). Christmas was right around the corner and those of us who hadn't signed decided to let it be until the new year and hope this chick wouldn't be able to rent the house or would move on to terrorize some other neighborhood. I spent the next three weeks pointedly ignoring the neighbors who signed and hoping for the best. The Monday after Christmas, I realized that 'the best' wasn't going to happen: the 'Alquiler' (For Rent) sign was gone from the house two doors down and Psycho-Tica was in the front yard screeching at someone on her cell phone. My neighborhood nightmare had just begun.
January 18, 2009
Special sauce.
As Dog is my witness, from this day forward, I will NEVER eat Pollo Campero again.
I've been here long enough now to not be surprised when my food is practically thrown at me. That's to be expected. The pissy attitude when I stopped the girl pouring my drink from giving me Coke when I'd asked for root beer, I expected. I wasn't even surprised when she just stood there, glaring at me, Coke in hand, waiting for me to back down and just take the Coke. After a few seconds, she huffed and poured out the Coke and refilled the cup with root beer. (In the states, I'd have asked her to give me a new, un-Coke-contaminated cup. Maybe some time when I've got an hour to kill and don't mind the cops showing up, I'll try that.) She completed my order and shoved the tray at me and had started to walk away when I asked her for some catsup. She just stood there for a second and jutted her chin at the packets of pinkish metallic tasting shit they always include with the chicken. I repeated my request, "Salsa de tomate, por favor." She tossed two packets onto the tray and walked away. So much for "Thank you and please come again." Just because none of this comes as any surprise doesn't make it any less irritating.
January 6, 2009
Oh, my gouty finger.
I thought a bug had bit you
or the leash had twisted you 'round.
But I looked you up on Google
and this is what I found:
The pain will come and go
it's mostly in the joint.
They say diet can control it
But that's really not the point.
It seems you have arthritis
with time it will get worse.
My vision too is faltering,
this aging thing's a curse.
Yes, it seems that now I have
arthritis that is gouty.
And I guess I'll have to suffer
'cuz that diet I've thrown out-y.
Even though you are quite little
you give me pain like I'm in labor.
Too bad you're not the middle one
so I could show you to the neighbor.
January 3, 2009
Happy New Year.
As of December 18th, 2008, I have been here for one year. The following are some of the things I've learned in my first year in Costa Rica:
1. Just because you cannot see your bill, that does not mean it's not there. Or that they won't shut your ass off when it's 72 hours past due. Due, in part at least, to the fact that there are no real addresses here, one will occasionally not receive one's monthly utility bills. The first month we were in our house, we didn't get a water bill. Ten days into month two, our water was abruptly shut off at 7am. I was in Miami and my husband (Mr. Two-or-Three-Showers-a-Day) freaked out but managed to get it turned back on the very next morning. He went and paid the bill and then ran home and took a shower, narrowly avoiding a total germ-phobic melt-down. Now we pay the bill in the first week, whether we've gotten it yet or not. Better safe than sorry.
2. The taxi drivers suck. They will smoke with you in the car, even if you ask them not to. They will slide the seats back all the way so that you have no leg room and then refuse to slide them forward. They will not turn on the meter and then argue with you about the fare. They will get nasty if you ask them to turn the meter on if it isn't on already. They will pick you up and then ask you to get out 20 meters later because they've decided to take a call instead. They will drive you around in circles, racking up the meter knowing full well where you want to go. They will, during the holidays especially, tack an extra 1000 onto your fare and then dare you to argue the point.
3. The taxi drivers are wonderful. They will carry your crap to the door without being asked. They will show you shortcuts you never knew existed. They will chit-chat happily with you no matter how awful your Spanish or their English. They will lower the volume if they notice that you don't share they're love of Metallica. They will lower the volume if they see you trying to use your cell phone. They will tell you that you are entering a not-so-safe neighborhood and offer to wait for you if you wont' be long. One even offered to return a day later to collect the fare when she realized that I didn't have anything smaller than a 10,000.
4. Just because you're dealing with a fellow American, doesn't mean they won't try to rip you off or lie to your face. I've had this happen a couple of times. A real-estate agent, someone trying to sell me a large item at their moving sale.
5. Someone you've never met and only dealt with on a message board can incite in you the kind of folding-chair-swinging rage usually reserved for the Jerry Springer Show. Twice so far. I have decided to swear off Costa Rica message boards for the whole of 2009.
6. Costa Rica is to loonies, pervs and flakes what a pound of rotting flesh is to flies and ants. There is a very nice guy I've spoken to a couple of times while walking in the park near my house. He's been here 26 years. When I asked if he went back to the U.S. often, he just chuckled and said that wouldn't be a good idea as there would probably be a law enforcement contingent ready to meet him at the airport.
7. The baked goods are HORRIBLE. I know, I know, there are exceptions to every rule, but truly, the baked goods here are beyond awful. I can't count the number of times I've had to spit out a cookie or a brownie bought in a grocery store or even a bakery because it was as dry and flavorless as sand.
8. This place is heaven during Semana Santa. And between Christmas and New Year isn't bad either. It's quiet, traffic is at a minimum, people are calm and friendlier. My 5:30am walk is especially nice during the holidays.
9. Always expect the worst and prepare for it too. A simple trip to ICE to get a new SIM card turns into a three part, two location ordeal where I'm driven nearly to tears only to find out that they had made a mistake and the matter could have been handled over the phone. When things do go smoothly, it's so unexpected that I'm left shocked and happy and, yet, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
10. There is no zoning to speak of. Which is why, in the next few weeks, I will be living two doors down from a day care center. The woman who decided to open the center needed the signatures of much of the neighborhood in order to open the place. Not being a mouth-breathing imbecile, I did not sign and neither did two or three others on our quiet little cul-de-sac. Several of my neighbors (the ones who worry about security and complain about noise the most) did sign. One thought it would be "cute". The day care center lady told me where I could get off for not signing. They and she are now on my list of people who I will not pee on if I find them on fire. I am considering moving to a gated community.
11. A pure-bred English Bulldog costs just as much here as it does in Miami. So much for buying local.
12. You can fly direct from Juan Santamaria Airport to Havana, Cuba. And you don't have to feel like a sneak doing it.
13. I can buy Retin-A without a prescription. This is a big deal. Huge! It's cheap too. And one day, many, many, many moons from now, when I can't smooth out the creases with Retin-A, I can move up to a chemical peel or even a little nip and tuck at a fraction of what I'd pay in the states.
14. My kid is learning Spanish. Granted, she's got a bit of a Nicaraguan accent because she converses most easily with the maid, but she's painlessly learning a second language.
15. I can afford a maid. A really good one too, who loves my kid and my animals. Best of all, she understands my profound incompetence when it comes to house work and doesn't bother telling me what she's doing because she knows I won't get it. Bless you Maria.
There are lots of other things, but I have a large hunk of Tiramisu calling my name from the fridge. I'll add more stuff another time.
All in all, 2008 was a good year. I love living here and I've made some great friends. I will continue to grumble about little things because I always have and it makes me feel better than blithely flitting about pretending that things like the waiter unwrapping my straw don't drive me batty. Maybe I'll add more photos this year and maybe I'll be too lazy. Maybe I'll write regularly and maybe I'll forget that I even have a blog and miss whole months. Who knows.
December 11, 2008
Festive. An update.
This is the "After" pic from my friend with the Blob-O-Lights. It's lovely. However, the house down the street from me, has a LIFE-SIZED CRECHE in the garage. That's commitment for ya. I'm going to go over there tomorrow and ask if I can take a picture of their set-up. They have angels and Jesus was glowing. Cool.
December 9, 2008
Somebody's husband is gonna get it.
Not mine. Mine won't put up lights and, let's be honest, I would just give him shit about how he did it even if he did. No, these lights were hung by a pal. I'm hoping he straightened this out after he took the picture or else his wife is going to make sure he only gets a lump of coal in his stocking. Maybe he had just paused for a drink. Let's see if he'll send us an "after" pic of the house all lit up. Anyone else wanna send a photo of their Christmas light efforts?
November 25, 2008
Update:
Six turds so far and no earring.
Oh, and there really IS a snake in the poop park. I yelped when I saw it, but our guard, Sleeping Beauty, didn't hear me.
November 24, 2008
Oooh, shiny, shiny...
November 21, 2008
Welcome to the tropics.
Wool socks. Sweats. Long-sleeve T. Short-sleeve T. Giant fuzzy brown sweater. Fleece slippers. I'm still shivering. I'm standing in the poop park with one dog determined to finish doing her business as quickly as possible so she can get out of this wind and another who forgot why we came out and is now trying to pull my arm out of it's socket so she can get six inches closer to the fallen branch that she's been barking at since we got here.
It's cold. Well, cold for me. I mean, it's not Canada or Sweden cold, but it's more than I want to deal with without a parka and a sled. Three years ago, when the possibility of moving to Costa Rica first popped up, I imagined something more along the lines of Cuba or the Dominican Republic in terms of heat and humidity. If we had moved to the beach, that might be the case. I guess I never took into account the idea that we might be living in a valley, at a couple thousand feet above sea level, subject to winds and cold weather.
I'm back in the house, both dogs are snoring and my nose is cold. I'm gonna go dig out the thick cashmere blanket that I stuffed into a box ten months ago and snuggle into bed. I actually hope this cool weather lasts. I like the idea of putting up the Christmas decorations without breaking into a sweat. Cool will be nice. Cool is not tonight. Tonight is wool socks and sweats weather.
November 20, 2008
The good old days.
Didn't the Roman's throw their traitors off of rock ledges? Why aren't we looking for a ledge?
November 18, 2008
The No-Power Hours
If you're moving to Costa Rica, bring flashlights. Not just one but, like, 10 of 'em. One for each room, bathrooms too. Check the batteries on a regular basis. And get a few candles and, maybe, a hurricane lamp. Tape a full box of matches to the wall behind your toaster, so you can find them easily.
The power goes out a lot here. This morning, at exactly 7:30, everything shut off. Poof. I sat back and counted to 5, then to 10, expecting the power to click back on the way it usually does. Nothing. After about 5 minutes, I walked outside to see if it was just me or were the neighbor's lights out too. I found my neighbor's son standing on the sidewalk and he told me that they had been told that the power would be out today from 7:30 to 4:30. Great. Other than no computer and no tv, I figured we'd be fine. I'd just keep the fridge closed and by the time we got back from India's ninjitsu class, the power would be back on and I could make dinner and camp out in front of the tv for the evening. Silly me.
When we got back to the house at 7pm, the whole neighborhood was still pitch dark. The cab driver was nice enough to put his lights on me while I unlocked the door, but I dropped the keys just as I walked in and fumbled for a few minutes to find them. We have no working flashlights anymore. I realized this the other night when I went looking for one to take with me to the poop park. Tom swears he saw a snake there a few nights back. Our dogs are useless as protectors, so I'd want to be the first to see a snake if there is one. I realized that not only did we have no functioning flashlights, but we only had one candle. I remembered thinking we'd be screwed if the lights went out for any length of time, so I ordered 4 big Mag Lites on Amazon and told myself that I'd need to get a couple more candles until they got here - just in case. I found our lone candle easily enough tonight, but it took me a while to remember where I'd seen matches. When I located the box, there was only one left. I lit the candle and placed it on the coffee table. It blew out a second later. Obviously, I was not a Girl Scout. India managed to find her battery-less flashlight and I went and walked the dogs in our inky black park, repeatedly squeezing a blue plastic pig with LED lights for nostrils. I took a moment to scare the crap out of the sleeping security guard by slapping my hands on the glass of the guard house and shrieking. A few minutes later, as I walked back into my house, I got a little scare of my own. The power came back and every light in my house went on. Seems the neighbor kid, who I'm not crazy about anyway, spent her two hour-long visit earlier in the day going around flipping every light switch in the house. Every single light! It must have taken me ten minutes to turn 'em all off again! In the end I was just grateful the power was back on and I wouldn't have to empty out my freezer tomorrow as one neighbor had warned I might have to do when she told me that this had happened before and the power stayed off for two days. Never a dull moment here and I manage to find ways to be grateful simply because things don't go as badly as they could have.
Today's lessons: Buy flashlights. Keep neighbor kid out of my house.
November, 2008
I can see you. No, really, I can.
Back in August I was reading a blog and noticed they were using a tool called Sitemeter. I clicked it thinking it was just some application that helps you see how many hits per day a website gets. I didn't really read much about what it did, but it looked interesting and simple to install on my site and I figured that seeing how many people were 
November 17, 2008
ADHD or Why I Haven't Posted in Over a Month.
September 3, 2008
Oooh, nature. Yuck.
Every day that I wake up in Costa Rica I try to remember what a gorgeous place I live in. I try not to take it's beauty for granted. The mountains, the greenery, the birds, the butterflies...all of it, sooo pretty and so special. At least that's what I try to tell myself. "Enjoy the beauty." "Isn't this special." All the usual bullshit. Fact is, some days I'm just blown away by how much new stuff I see and how creepy or annoying some of it is. Take the birds; I take my morning walk and see maybe ten different kinds of brightly
colored birds sitting in the trees or flying around. Yellow birds, green birds, humming-birds...these aren't just the usual pigeons or wrens, these birds are really cool. Unfortunately a lot of them start singing at 
3 am or make some repetitive shrieking noise, for hours on end, that makes me wish I had an air rifle and a Hefty bag. I had a small butterfly garden in Miami and I saw a lot of zebra butterflies and monarchs but here, just walking to AutoMercado one morning, a blue Morpho flitted past me! Right there on the sidewalk, this gorgeous iridescent blue butterfly just appeared and it's not the only one I've seen. On the other hand, last week while walking the dog, I screamed loud enough to make every dog in the neighborhood bark for the next ten minutes when I felt something tickle my foot and looked down to see some HUGE black wasp-looking thing with blue wings crawling out of a hole in the ground. I thought it looked a lot like a wasp I saw on Animal Planet that lays it's eggs on huge burrowing spiders. Burrowing spiders...alrighty then. Since then, I won't walk in the park without wearing rubber boots. In Miami, the most common bug one comes across is the Palmetto bug - basically a humongous brown cockroach. 
Inside, outside, day, night, rain or dry season, the creepy f***ers were everywhere! I've seen maybe five palmetto bugs since I got here. No run-of-the-mill roaches in CR, but I walked into the garage one evening to find a rhinoceros beetle toddling around. Enormous. Better than a roach though because my kid was fascinated by it and I was happy to pick it up and take photos of it to send to friends back in the states. It was only afterward that I realized that my new Twinkie-sized bug buddy most likely used that huge horn for rolling turd balls and that washing my hands would probably be a good idea. I've seen some cool spiders; golden orb weavers, crab spiders, skinny white ones, bright green ones. I found a neon red one with twinkly little gold eyes waiting for me on my pillow one night. I've found ticks on the dogs, moths in the pantry, ants (4 different kinds!) eating my shea butter hand lotion. Sometimes I'm not sure what kind of creature I'm looking at. About a month ago I was walking the dog in the rain and came across a blob of black caterpillars in the grass. I whipped out my little digital and leaned down close to take a photo when the sky lit up and an enormous bolt of lightening struck close enough to make the dog yelp and run for the house. I followed. I still don't know how often people get struck by lightening here and I didn't want to find out first-hand. Last night I came across another blob of caterpillars and was able to get a photo. There is something sinister and icky about a whole group of these things crawling across the sidewalk together. Like something out of a B movie. In an effort to be more at peace with the creatures that make my life here a little bit more exotic, I'm trying to find the names of all the things I come across. If you know what these black caterpillars are (butterflies?), if they're poisonous (I don't think so) and what they're doing (sex, lunch?) please tell me. Maybe knowing more will suppress my urge to squash them or spray them with Raid.
September 2, 2008
Lulu's hotel of choice.
My daughter and I finally joined my husband down here last December. We flew down loaded with clothes, Christmas gifts and carting along our 9 year old dog, Lulu. Lulu was the last of what had once
been a mob of 12 dogs, everyone else having died over the last few years due to old-age or cancer, and she was still getting used to being an 'only-dog' when we uprooted her universe and moved to Costa Rica. We knew we'd be squeezing into my husband's teeny apartment while we looked for a home and, not wanting Lulu to be any more stressed than we could possibly avoid, I sought out a place for her to stay so she wouldn't be too uncomfortable. I asked for recommendations for boarding on a Costa Rica message board I'd joined months earlier and got a few suggestions but was still a little apprehensive at the thought of leaving our coddled, nervous, panic-prone mutt in the hands of strangers. That's when I got an email from Leslie (or was it Lynn?) McPeak. Leslie and Lynn are twins who have a place up in the hills in Alajuela. They had just bought and moved into their place and were offering their kennel services. I spoke to them via email a few times and found them friendly, sympathetic (our chihuahua had been killed a week or so earlier) and enthusiastic about hosting Lulu at their place as their first client. So, two days after our arrival, I handed Lulu over to these two very nice strangers in the Denny's parking lot and hoped for the best. We spoke to Lynn and Leslie via email often and got photos and updates of Lulu's stay. We'd opted to have Lu stay inside their house and hang out with their little dog, Trygg rather than stay in a kennel. Day one she leaped off their balcony and ran down the hill into an orchard and had to be chased and coaxed back to the house. Fortunately their place is totally secure, our dog is just nuts. I was just happy they didn't make us come back and get her. Lulu stayed at Casa Modesto for almost 50 days. We visited at one point and found Lu was sleeping on a cushy bed with a spectacular view of the valley below and seemed to be getting a five-star spa vacation while we scrambled to rent a place and get out of the closet-sized apartment we were in. When we finally got her back, she didn't seem too thrilled to be home. Gone was her view and her frequent snacks - she'd never been thin and now was porkier than ever - and she now had to share her home with a kitten and not Trygg who she'd come to like. We haven't had an occasion to use Casa Modesto since, but we would in a heart-beat. After the way Lulu was taken care of there, I can't imagine sticking her in some impersonal vet's kennel. I know Lynn and Leslie are still boarding dogs and I can totally recommend them if you need a place to put your best pal and don't want to worry. I'll bet after the last couple of months of being pummeled by our new English Bulldog, Etta, Lulu would be more than happy to spend some time at her favorite mountain retreat even if we weren't going out of town.August 29, 2008
How I Roll.
I take cabs everywhere and one consistent downside is the Tico inability to give a straight answer, especially if it means possibly disappointing someone.
"Hola, sabes donde esta el Bar Snoopy en Escazu?"
"Claro, que si."
"Exactamente donde esta?"
"Eh...bueno, lo buscamos juntos."
"No. Estoy en una prisa."
"Lo buscamos rapidemente."
No. I don't want to freakin' "look for it in a hurry", I want to get there in my lifetime, without floatin' around Escazu pissin' away my time and money. Aaarrrrggghh! Once again, what I wouldn't give for a simple "NO." I moved on to the cab behind this one and, as the next driver told me that, "yes", he knew exactly where Bar Snoopy was and I climbed into the back seat, the first driver got out and began yelling at this driver. What the Hell? Did he really expect me to roll the dice and ride with him? We sped off and a while later pulled up to the Snoopy having gotten there quickly and, also, treated to a brief history of why that bar is so well known.
I have moments when I think that I might prefer my own car. It might be easier sometimes. Today, while leaving Parque de Diversiones, I walked up to the three cabs lined up at the park's exit. I asked the three drivers standing together on the side-walk if they we're available. They said yes and asked where I wanted to go. "Pavas. Plaza Mayor." They looked at each other and one said, "3000 colones." These were all Co-op cabs and I asked why the flat rate. I was told that they drive from the park all the time, traffic is bad at that hour and that's just how they do it. I rolled my eyes and got in to the first cab. I've been through this before. It was starting to drizzle and I could either walk (no way), call a cab from my cell and cool my heels in the rain while I waited for a taxi that might not come or just get in and get it over with. Traffic was unusually light and when we arrived just a few minutes later after a super fast drive through a really crappy neighborhood, I said in English, "Well, that was a quick 3000 colones." The driver laughed and said, "2000 esta bien." Among the many nuggets of wisdom collected over the last few months are; never assume someone doesn't understand more than they let on and a little snark goes a long way. The rain sometimes makes me want a car. Getting a cab can be next to impossible once the wet stuff starts. Calling is often a waste of time and schlepping out to the road to flag one down can leave you soaked by the time an empty taxi rolls up. Still, despite some nasty drivers, drivers who've shut off the maria (meter) suddenly and quoted a price well above the one they just erased, drivers who've smoked, driven maniacally or cluelessly meandered down the road swearing all the while they knew how to get where I wanted to go, I've actually gotten to like taking taxis. Not having a car, I don't worry about where I'll park, if I'll get broken into, insurance, gas, dings or dents. More often than not I get some pleasant guy who makes small talk, teaches me some new (to me) Tico slang and gets me where I want to go relatively quickly and at a very fair price. I've been offered other services from a flat-rate day-trip to Sarchi to an ounce of premium weed. I still haven't gone to Sarchi. Eventually, we may get a car. I'd at least be able to avoid the look of horror on some drivers faces when they answer a call only to find me waiting with two dogs and a cat for the occasional trip to the vet. Until then, I'm just going to look at riding in Tico cabs as part of my education here. Improving my Spanish and my ability to deal with stress one little argument, negotiation and long-winded address at a time.
August 27, 2008
Pot.
I have a problem. I need your help. I've been trying to decide something very big and I can't seem to make a decision:
Should I get a tea pot?
I've been making a LOT of tea lately and my little glass French press is put to work daily for a few cups of shade-grown and so far I've just boiled the water in an aluminum sauce pot. But I hear the neighbor's kettle whistling a couple of times every day and I wonder if this might not be a better way to boil my water. Less splashing onto the counter. I could leave it filled without worrying about winged creatures and pet-hair. But every time I get to the moment of truth, the moment where I select a tea-pot/kettle, I hesitate. Do I really need one? Will it be better than the pot? Do I not violate the single use item ban by purchasing something that I'll only use for one purpose?
I had one in each hand today. One was steel with a snazzy padded
August 8, 2008
I'll be dead soon.
I have a sinus infection. According to Dr. Samuel Flikier-Franjo, the 
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