Suggested New Year's Resolutions

Suggested New Year’s Resolutions

People either believe in or complete discount New Year’s resolutions. I always have a resolution but I always make sure it’s achievable, like one year I decided to give up minding my own business. Another year I pledged to drink one glass of wine per day. (Notice I didn’t say ONLY one glass.) Here are some things I should resolve to do next year. What about you?

• Stop lying to the dentist about how often I floss.
• After I have finished working out on a machine at the gym I will no longer add 20 pounds to the weight before I get off so I look tougher.
• Come to a complete stop at the stop sign and avoid another California stop ticket.
• Take the dog shampoo out of the shower so I don’t accidently use it again.
• Double-check what bill I paid so I don’t send some large amount to the incorrect payee on my online bank account.
• File my 2012 and 2013 tax papers somewhere rather than have them stacked on the floor of my office.
• Learn to use my boat radio. It apparently is not used for playing music, which I discovered when my boat stopped for no reason in the middle of the harbor.
• Refrain from the eye roll when a passenger at the airport does something stupid like wear his Mr. T jewelry when going through the scanner.

I’m not sure if I will pick any of these as none are probably achievable. But I wanted to give you food for thought!

Happy New Year!

Last pleasure trip before hard work!

On the spur of the moment I decided to meet my friends in Rome. It was her birthday and she and her husband were kind enough to invite me. We had a wonderful time and I had a bloggable trip home. Here’s what happened.

I got to the airport at 5:10 AM. The cab diver drove 140 KM (about 110 MPH). I'm still alive so that's good.

I had to go to three different customs places before I got to the right one to get my VAT tax back. Here's how it works: If you are checking luggage you check your bag and bring boarding pass and luggage tags to the customs counter. I only found this out after I had visited 3 earlier customs counters.

Each is manned with one person, he/she is usually helping people who have some sort of issue that is handled with numerous shrugs and “no’s”. But I finally got mine taken care of and dropped it in the cute little mailbox.

They tried to make me check my bag in Rome and not let me carry it on. I sweetly begged and started to choke up teary-eyed and he got a supervisor so I didn't have to check.

On the flight from London to Denver, the guy in the seat next to me was a snot. The flight attendant thought we were together and gave me a customs form but not him. I called the flight attendant back and said he needed one. When she indicated one per family I said the man and I had only just met and weren't married yet. The guy grabbed his form and slammed up the window between us indicating marriage was not in our future. Grouchy pants.

But it worked out fine. They had a very fine sauvignon blanc that I indulged in prior to my nice nap across the pond.

For some reason, when I tried to check in online the site had directed me to Kenya Airlines for the Denver to LA part of the trip. In London they printed my boarding pass but when I got to Denver, it was missing info so I had to go through a number of different levels of TSA. I said nothing about Kenya or the “e” word.

When I got there I realized there was an earlier flight. No first class but I said it was okay. I ran to the flight and still had time to spare. It was a really small plane and the first class was separated with a curtain. I got a really good seat right behind first class that had more leg room than first class. At the last minute they had an open seat in first class and gave it to the last guy to get on. He was so excited and happy I didn't care. The only difference was free drink in first but I had had plenty of wine and just wanted ice water.

Anyway I got home 3 hours early which was great. Now I’m busily travelling up and down the state educating tax professionals about Obamacare!

Rental cars

I admit. I’m not the best driver. I have backed into saplings in a parking lot planter (one got stuck under the rear window washer), a giant rock, and many posts. One day my son asked me what I hit on the way to work. I looked oddly at him and asked why? He said there was a giant branch coming out of the grill in front of my car. HMMM???

I can personally attest to the fact that the Do Not Back Up – Severe Tire Damage is true! Not my fault. I was coming out of a rental car lot and there was an arm going across the driveway where the person is usually in the little house. But unfortunately the arm was broken off. There was nobody there and I went on through. The tires deflate within 20 seconds. Again, not my fault!

Well, I have just started my travel season and I picked up my rental car yesterday. I always rent the smallest, cheapest (oops, most economical) car as I just need wheels and simple is better.

But I hadn’t realized cars came so little. After going through the quickie line, I walked to my car. It was the little red roller skate of death! Tiny, but mighty. Well, not mighty.

I looked around the car for some other person’s dents and saw nothing but a giant bug of some kind stuck to the grill. I got in the car and headed away with my new dead pet bug.

On my way back to the airport, I stopped for gas at the station on the airport property. I filled the roller skate with the cheapest gas and then, guess what, before finalizing the transaction, they asked if I wanted a car wash! Are you kidding? You think I’m going to treat the rental car place with a car wash and premium gas? No, No, and No Way! So the bug is still on the grill. And it’s not my fault!

Happy travels!

Saving $370 at Tour d'Argent

I took my daughter and granddaughter to Paris. I have always wanted to eat at the Tour d’Argent – a famous Michelin-rated restaurant, albeit only one star. But it’s the place to see and be seen and I wanted my granddaughter to experience culture in its finest sense.

I told my offspring that we would eat at cheap cafés, buy bread and cheese, have the free breakfast at the hotel so we could afford the $200+ drinks at Tour d’Argent. So, I’m thinking it’s going to be about $750 for the evening.

I was concerned that my granddaughter’s dress was not quite nice enough so I bought her a new one at Galleries Lafayette. And, since I bought her one I thought I deserved a new one too. But they were "solde" (on sale).

We came back from sightseeing early and showered, did our hair, makeup, and all around made ourselves beautiful. We came downstairs and got in our cab. The driver had never heard of the restaurant! Really, where is he from, Tunisia? Actually, yes, he was.

Traffic was terrible and we were going to be late. So I finally called the restaurant to tell them that we would be there but were stuck in traffic.

They could not find our reservation. I gave them the reservation number and while I waited for her to find it, I looked at the email again. It started Dear Madame, we are so pleased to be of service to you but - OMG – they did NOT have room for us on that night, not that they did have space.

I begged and pleaded – could we just come in for a cocktail? Non, non, non. We regret that we are completely full.

Just at this moment, we are pulling up at the front. I ask the Tunisian taxi driver if he knows of another restaurant. Sure lady, maybe in Tunisia. He sees the starch-suited bellman who opens the door, takes my money, and gets out of “Le Dodge”

The bellman takes me in and explains to the gatekeeper who says, no food at the inn. However, he will run across the street to their “sister restaurant” and see if by any possible chance they can seat us.
Amazingly, they could. We were squeezed into a table in the middle of the empty restaurant where we ate for $185. We had a great laugh and had a fun dinner. I figure we saved about $370 ($750 expected cost of dinner minus $200 (dresses) and $180 (cost of the real dinner).

You always have to look on the bright side. This restaurant even had a cat!

talking to computer people

Have you ever had a computer problem and gone to your IT specialist or a friend who knows about computers? When I have a computer problem I do everything I can think of before taking a deep breath and asking for help because I know what’s about to happen.

I will not only feel like I caused the problem, but also be subjected to a long dissertation about the history of computers and why I, a word person, could never truly understand what I’ve done.

The first thing the computer guru will ask is, “Did you reboot your computer?” What I want to say is, “What’s that mean? How do you do it?” Of course I have. Instead I say – on the verge of tears – “I don’t know what happened. I’ve rebooted twice.

The laptop is whisked away for a computer physical. When it comes back, held lovingly and gently by its savior, I’m told in detail what is wrong, what has been done to fix it, and what to do and not do in the future.

Shortly into this conversation my mind starts to wander. Gee, I never noticed that picture is a little crooked. There’s a little dust ball in the corner. I think I’ll have a turkey burger for dinner.

Now it’s time for a favorite expression at our company, "So I should save my work to a separate file?" This means I have no idea what you are talking about; I don't care; and I’ve have stopped listening.

The first time a computer guru hears these words, the response is a blank look and then a string of more technical computereze sort of like, when talking to a non-English speaker yelling will bring comprehension.

At this point I’m reminded of another famous expression we have at our company. Years ago, a our web guy was chastised for not posting the content he had been asked to put on the web. He madly looked for it and then announced, “I posted it. Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there!”

Computer people: Ya gotta love ‘em! And what would we do without them!

In the air again

It’s been over a month since I visited the airport. I’m currently in my “third office”, the airport. (Office #1 is real office; Office #2 is home; Office #3 is airport; Office 4 is Starbucks.)
Now that we have that down, I’m nested into my chair, laptop in my lap thinking about what happened between my car and here.

Things don’t change at the airport. Funny people doing funny – or icky – things.

I went to check on my return flight so I had to go to the counter. As soon as I’d finished my question, the gate agent says to her coworker, “I should have flossed.” TMI! But glad she warned me because then she proceeded to peck at the computer with one hand and pick her teeth with the other. She was having little success with either, so fortunately, she excused herself and went to the back.

While I waited a man stepped up to check his bags at the counter next to me. The agent asked if he had boarding passes. He said he did but that he was a bit unhappy because he wanted to sit with his wife. His number was A25 and hers was A27. The agent looked at him strangely. It seems he wasn’t aware that it wasn’t his seat number but the place in line they had and with those numbers there was little chance they would not be sitting together. He said, “Well, I guess it’s okay. We’ll just be a few rows apart.” Gate agent just looked at him and called, “Next!”

When my helper came back, she had gotten my answer and had shiny white teeth. Relief on both counts!

Finally, a man in front of me going through security takes his belt off as instructed. His pants drop to his knees in the screening tube. He grabs them. He wears grey jockey shorts.

Off to Vegas! Maybe I’ll be crazy there! But I can assure you I won’t be flossing in public.

Filing my tax return

I have not filed my return by April 15 since 1995. That was the year I filed in late January so I could get my refund and I made a BIG mistake and ended up owing. Had I filed an extension I would have been unaware that I wasn’t getting a refund until sometime later. So I vowed never to file again.

Now I know many of my readers are tax professionals – as am I – and I know there are penalties and all that stuff. I would never encourage a client to incur late payment penalties and interest, but personally, I’d rather be blissfully unaware of the normally depressing answer as long as possible.

I have started inputting all the numbers into my software. Of course I have piles of papers, 1099s and receipts, and 14 file folders with a mismatched bunch of paperwork. Sorting through it now. Oh, wait, here’s the lab slip I got in January – better get to the lab or I’ll be on the bad patient list. Oh, and here’s that picture I took when my granddaughter was born – cute – back in the folder. Yikes, I had better pay my property tax. It’s due today. But I can’t find that receipt for my clothing donation. Did I do it this year or last? Ugh! And now I can’t find the folder with the bank statements.

The final decision: How much in use tax do I owe on my California return. I look at the table: impossible. It’s certainly not that much. So I start going through credit card bills. This is boring and really doesn’t tell me what I need to know. So I pick the number I feel is accurate. With Amazon charging sales tax on almost everything, I don’t think it’s a lot. It can’t be. I type the number into my software and think of it as my personal contribution to California’s budget deficit.

Now I’m just putting the finishing touches on my tax return. I could file it this Tuesday but I won’t. It’s not cool to file on time. And I want to be cool at all costs. I’m just waiting for the April 15 party with my tax friends who will now be able to come out and play with me again.

Vacation pictures

Here I am at the fabulous Asnet Chastenet resort in St. Lucia. It is so beautiful here. Sun, sand, and warm water fill my days. But I have taken very few pictures.

Before I left for St. Lucia everyone said, “Be sure to take lots of pictures.” They did NOT say “Show me all your pictures when you come back.” Because in reality, nobody wants to see your three pictures of the beach where the first French ship landed or the volcano pictures taken from every angle and at every distance. And pictures of sunsets, especially two or three from each night, are never the same as the real thing.

So my friends will be relieved to know that I will have a total of three pictures to share with them: the view of the bed surrounded by mosquito netting and flanked with a pretty amazing wall sculpture, the array of amenities artistically stacked in the bathroom, and the ocean from the beach chair I have claimed as my own.

In reality there are a few sights I should have captured: the young woman wearing a whtie shirt that was about 3 sizes too small and was inside out with a giant black tag and price tag hanging off her neck; the look on the zipline guide’s face when I told him I was so good at this I’d take his job (this was after he had to pry my fingers from the line after escorting me on my first panic-filled pass down the line). And the ball that I hit into the tall palm tree while playing tennis. (I quit then.)

Oh, and it’s also good to have a picture of yourself. But I passed on the opportunity of doing a selfy in my bathing suit doing yoga. The ripples of crumpled skin I saw while doing some weird contortion? I think not. You’ll just have to believe I was there!

And, although I could have, I didn't attach a picture of the sunset! Cheers to another fruity drink!

Auto warranty

My car warranty was up. I ask for information on purchasing a new warranty. It is expensive. I go through all the possibilities. I am a magnet for odd things happening to my car so I know this is the best choice. But it’s really expensive.

They are offering a spa treatment if I finalize the deal by the end of the month. I love going to the spa. But, the guy tells me it’s for the car not for me. Really? OK, don’t need that. I don’t have time for a spa treatment for me, why do I care about the car.

So I ask the guy to reduce the cost by the spa treatment, which will save me $259. He says great, that will reduce the cost by $50. What? I thought $259. He tells me that $50 is what it costs the dealership for the spa treatment. Then he gives me the slick car salesman smile.
I tell him that I can get the price reduced by $200 from another dealer. I pause and smile sweetly as I start to pick up my cute Gucci purse flashing my newly gelled finger nails. He offers me $300 off. I’m happy. (Probably still screwed on the deal, but I’m glad to have it done.)

Two days later, on Super Bowl Sunday, I pack up my crockpot with chili and put it on the floor behind the front seat of my car. A few blocks down the road I hit the brakes and you know it, the lid flies off, the pot tips over and there is chili all over the floor.

I should have gotten that car spa treatment.

TSA prescreen trauma

This new TSA prescreen sounds like a great idea: SOUNDS! In reality they give special treatment to certain people who don’t have to take off their coat and shoes or remove their liquids or laptops.

Unfortunately this privilege is given to people who are completely undeserved. For the second time I dash up to the security line and race into the TSA prescreen line with my luggage flying behind me, only to screech to a halt behind a group of overclothed, confused individuals who are moving things from one bag to another for what reason, I’m not sure. And they’re taking their shoes off.

While inching toward the one and only x-ray station, I see the A list line whizzing by me. Even the “regulars” have 8 stations and are moving at a reasonable pace. I’m A list. Why did I think this prescreen was a privilege? To avoid taking my shoes off, I’m waiting, waiting, waiting. Now I see why. Probably a third of the people in the TSA prescreen have water bottles, wine, puffy jackets, or stuff in their pockets and have to be extra screened. One even stopped in the middle of the x-ray machine and turned around like ring-around-the-rosy.

The screener kept saying, “You’re done. You can step out. Hey, mam!”

I thought prescreen meant you are experienced. Guess not.

Feeling annoyed and a bit smug, I get an iced tea and get on the plane. I sit in my favorite place grumbling to the flight attendant about all the people who don’t know what they are doing. After I have successfully protected the middle seat from someone sitting in it, I stand up and sit in the window seat – landing squarely on my iced tea, which explodes, creating a cold wet mess.

Great experienced flyer, right?