Proud future owner of an undetermined number of euros

Do I make things more complicated than they need to be?

You can be honest. I already know the answer. Sometimes, I do.

Take for instance the purchase of foreign currency for our upcoming trip. I opened a savings account at a new bank to save approximately .01% on the purchase, and today I determined it was time to pounce after listening to Bloomberg radio and its rosy outlook for the dollar. Lehman Brothers predicts that the dollar will continue its rally through to the new year, and London is thinking about cutting interest rates. Add that to the growing awareness that this downturn, blip, recession, whatever you want to call it, is global, and you've got conditions for an improving dollar (whether an improving dollar is really good for the country is for someone without several upcoming European vacations to decide).

And so the dollar improved. Today the dollar hit a six-month high against the euro, and while the dollar is still not strong, the rate was great in light of its six-month history, and I wanted to act (kick the euro while it was down? Maybe, a little bit). I called the bank's foreign exchange desk (he and I are practically friends by now) to confirm the good rate and planned to hit the bank's branch after work (they're open late).

But of course it wasn't as easy as I wanted it to be. At first, the teller tried to give me the inferior exchange rate. "No," I told him. "That's not the right rate." He listened--it's amazing how far an authoritarian attitude can take you--and called the fx desk, which was by then closed. He said that they couldn't process the transaction without talking to the desk, so I couldn't buy euros that evening and had to come in while the fx desk was open.

"This is unacceptable," I said to myself.

An aside: In general, I disapprove of using "this" without a following noun, but I make an exception for this declaration, which is one of my favorites and is nearly always effective, either spoken or communicated with one's facial expression.

I said out loud, "But I can't get here by 4 o'clock--how am I going to buy euros?" They offered an acceptable but not ideal compromise--I could fill out deposit and withdrawal slips, and they would buy the euros the next morning, when the desk was open. The downside: I won't be getting today's rate. The potential upside: Maybe the euro will continue to fall, and we'll get an even better rate.

The temptation to wake up for the European markets' open to track the euro/dollar rate is strong, but I think I can resist.

Cartoonish figures

Today, inspired by Christine's avatar image on her blog, I challenged B to a little game--we would each create avatars for ourselves and for each other, and then compare the results. Here's what we did. What do you think--whose is a better representation?





Here is B's representation of himself.












And here's my representation of B.













Here's B's representation of me.













And my own representation of myself.





Wanna give it a try? Go to Face Your Manga.

New newness! Facials, books, shoes, and more...

New experience: Getting a facial

This weekend, I got my first real facial (the qualifier is necessary because I had a "mini facial" on a cruise a few years ago, but the real deal is different--way different). Getting a facial seemed like an indulgent, pamper-iffic activity. But let me warn you, if you're looking to be pampered, a facial might not be for you.

It started out like a normal spa experience (not that I am a regular spa-goer, but it started as I expected). I was given a robe-like garment to put on, and I reclined on a heated bed under a sheet and blanket (the heated bed was awesome--can you buy them...). Then the esthetician came back and used a few potions to clean my face, and then she covered my eyes and turned on a bright light. That's when I started to wonder if I was in for the princess treatment I had been expecting.

"Your face is in great shape considering you've never had a facial," she said. I said thank you, to myself, on behalf of my prescription Retin-A, which is apparently doing its job--it doesn't hurt that it's the best non-surgical wrinkle cream you can get. "However," she continued, "We're going to have to do some extractions."

Extractions?! Yes, boys and girls, extractions are the dark side of facials, the part that no one talks about. There's nothing pamper-iffic about someone else pinching and squeezing your pores under the brightest light you've ever seen. When tears start running out of your eyes and you let out a squeal of pain, expect something along the lines of, "Oh, sorry, but that was a stubborn one!"

After the torture was over, the rest of the experience was positive, until the end, when the esthetician and I got into a tense argument over my facial cleanser. I use Neutrogena cleansing bars (the brown, glycerine-y ones), which my dermatologist--who, incidentally, went to medical school--recommended. However, the esthetician argued in earnest that his recommendation was wrong, and the bars were doing nothing good for me and might even be the cause of skin irritation. Does an esthetician know more about skin than a dermatologist? Unlikely, but I took a chance and bought some of their overpriced skin products and will report if I notice a difference. Otherwise, I'm sticking with buying my beauty products at Target.

New book: Laughter of Dead Kings, by Elizabeth Peters.

Elizabeth Peters, one of my favorite authors, has in recent years focussed on two series, one about a Victorian-era female Egyptologist and another about a modern-day 5'11'' medieval art historian. The heroines are spunky and memorable, and their leading men are dashing. This book promises to tie the two series together, and I cannot wait to read it. I've pre-ordered from Amazon and intend to take the book with me to Italy, if I can wait that long to read it. To keep me entertained in the meanwhile, I'm re-reading other books in the series. If you haven't read any of these books, you must start at the beginning of each series--Amelia (Egyptologist) has close to 20 books in her series, and this recent book is Vicky's (art historian) sixth and final. You will be thankful that you have so many to read once you get started.

New shoes: Bramble by Naot

I learned about Naot shoes from a shoe email that I receive and decided to give them a try. I was concerned that my Merrell's aren't versatile enough (read: too casual) for Italy, so I wanted to replace one pair (I have brown and black) with a dressier but still comfortable shoe. Naots got good ratings, and I found this adorable pair of Mary Janes that I couldn't resist.

I ordered a pair on Friday and received them yesterday (have I mentioned how much I love Zappos?). Unfortunately, as the website mentioned, they ran small and were tight in the toes. But I could tell that they were a winner, so I called last night to arrange an exchange, and they shipped another pair that is arriving today! Amazingly fast service, and I hope this pair is the winner. If not, Zappos offers free and fast shipping both ways, so I'm sure I'll be able to find something suitable.

Today's notable milestones

It's a rare day that sees not one, but two notable and important milestones. I had to share. We'll go in chronological order.

At approximately 6:56 A.M. this morning, just as I pulled into my favorite gas station (it receives that categorization because it's full service and the attendant greets me by name), my car's odometer reached 90,000 miles.

Ninety-thousand! That's almost six figures, and six figures is a lot of miles for a car. She's nearly seven years old (to be more exact, 6.7 years, for those of you who are dying to calculate my per-year mileage stats), and though I stopped aging several years ago, she apparently doesn't share that gift (if only her issues could be fixed with a shot or two of Botox, her maintenance would be a lot cheaper).

That last sentence was not my way of saying that I have stopped aging by taking up a Botox routine. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but my method is simpler and cheaper and involves denial and the ability to perform creative math.

So that was milestone 1, and believe me, at 6:56 A.M. this morning, I had no idea that more excitement was in order--but it was!

Milestone #2: At 6:23 P.M. this evening (or thereabouts, I didn't check the time, but delivering a milestone without a time marker feels like I'm depriving you of critical information), I took out the garbage for the first time since we moved in. (For those of you playing stats at home, we've lived here for 2.2ish years, depending on when you calculate the move-in day, but that is neither here nor there for the point of this story.)

Going over two years without taking out the garbage is an amazing feat, especially considering how much B has traveled since we moved here. But he is a saint and understands that garbage-related tasks are among my most dreaded, and he always takes the garbage out before he leaves for his business trips.

Except this time. He took the garbage out on Sunday, the day before he left, but a ferocious collection of detritus had collected since then, to the point that my admittedly overactive olfactory senses were assaulted this morning when I walked into the kitchen.

My morning routine is breezy and fast, so I was able to get out of Dodge before I was overpowered. I considered my options on my way in to work. I could put the bag on the back porch, but what if animals got into it? I considered putting it in the downstairs bathroom and closing the door and letting B take care of it when he got home, but that wouldn't be fair to B or the bathroom (or myself, if I wanted to use the bathroom).

I had no solution, but I knew that the garbage would be waiting for me when I got home. Sure enough, the trash fairies hadn't come, and the bag was still there, except by this time, it had grown fangs.

The last bit might be a slight exaggeration.

I knew that there was only one way to fix the garbage problem. I was scared, but I gave myself a pep talk, held my breath, grabbed the bag, and headed for the dumpster.

And surprisingly enough, the experience was not that bad. We have a new dumpster, and it's still pristine, and the weather hasn't been too hot, and there weren't any bugs or small animals that wanted to attack me. All in all, it was not a horrible, traumatizing experience.

Taking out the garbage is not going to become a habit, but if, in another 2 years, it has to be done, I will step up to the plate.

How low will it go?

Before last week, one of my least favorite (but sadly necessary) activities was checking finance.yahoo.com for the Euro/Dollar exchange rate (symbol: eurusd=x). The rate has been climbing since, well, since soon after the euro made its world debut, but the climb over the last year since our honeymoon has been particularly demoralizing, especially since we know how little the dollar bought at a better exchange rate.

But there are signs of improvement. Crude oil is falling. Gold is falling. And so is the euro. It fell 5 cents alone last week, and yesterday it dipped below $1.50 for the first time in many months. Granted, we're still 10 cents away from the rate that we had in September of last year, but we're much better off than we would have been several months ago.

We had planned to buy euros last week, but when we saw the exchange rate a-tumbling, we decided to hold off, and now comes the difficult decision--how long to wait? How low will the euro go, and is this drop temporary? I'm not much of a gambler but I do love a bargain--I plan to hold off as long as I can, as long as the rates are still good.

Our Italy itinerary

I've learned that planning a lengthy vacation is a lot easier when you aren't simultaneously planning a wedding.

At this time last year, I was worrying about my dress, shoes, hair, make-up, wedding programs, and weather (this list is meant to be exemplary rather than exhaustive--I'm sure I had many other worries), all while trying to plan our two-week French honeymoon. The honeymoon was a lot of fun, though perhaps a tad (dare I say it) overplanned. When there is much to plan, I get overwhelmed and err on the side of excessive planning (if I could upload the wedding-day schedule as exhibit A, I would). I planned and scheduled everything for the 'moon, probably because I felt overwhelmed by all that I could not control with the wedding and grasped onto that which I could control.

So, lesson learned. For this next vacation in Italy, I intend to adopt more of a laissez-faire attitude (which, in any other person, would not be described as such, but one step at a time).

Our Italy itinerary is more of a buffet than a checklist. I've figured out the sites that we're most likely to enjoy and have made reservations for a couple of museums with long lines, but most of our activities are simply grouped by neighborhood. If we're nearby, we'll go. If we don't make it, no worries--maybe next time we're in Italy. As Rick says, assume you'll return.

So here's our loosey-goosey itinerary, as it stands now:

Day 0: Fly to Florence.

Days 1-5: Florence. We've reserved a day bike tour through Tuscany (12 miles isn't that long for a bike ride, right?) and have museum reservations for our last full day, but otherwise, our time is mostly unstructured. I want to take a day trip to Siena, but we'll probably spend most of our remaining time kicking around Florence, splitting our time between museums and cathedrals (for B) and fabulous Italian stores (for moi).

Days 5-10: Venice. Our time here is even more unstructured, as we have no reservations or tours. I want to take a gondola ride, hang out at St. Mark's Square at night, and eat dinner at a restaurant on a canal. And, of course, the requisite shopping.

Days 10-18: Cruise. We've booked two excursions: one takes us to the Acropolis in Athens (but lets us explore on our own), and the other is a 4x4 off-road experience in Croatia. We plan to explore our other 3 ports on our own. (Such intrepid explorers!)

Day 18: Fly to Frankfurt. If only I had thought to connect in Munich--we could have gone to Oktoberfest. I suppose I can live without experiencing that cultural phenomenon.

Day 19: Fly home and start getting ready to return to Germany in two months.