Blowing my own tiny horn (UPDATED)

I think this is probably the best, corniest line I have ever snuck into a currencies story:

"Last month, the Ides of March were literally a day late and a dollar short -- a dollar short-sell opportunity, that is."

Okay......nevermind! I liked it, though.
---------------------------------------------------

UPDATE: A reader just made an amusing comment on my story:

This can't even be considered reporting, much less analysis. It ignores so many salient facts related to U.S. dollar- euro dynamics, even just on a descriptive basis of their movements, not to mention the underlying economic and trade issues.

It more resembles a recording of afterwork bar conversations among bored, bottom-tier currency office interns than anything that should be reported on [this site] or anywhere else, for that matter.

"Afterwork bar conversations?" "Interns?" Oh, big difference -- I got PAID to write this.

So the reader didn't like it? Aw. I shall now weep all the way to the bank to cash my paycheck.

Things People Say

Japanese friends used to ask me how to say, "tanshin funin" in English, and I had to tell them we didn't have a precise term for it.

It is not unusual for a Japanese father to get a job transfer and live away from his family for a while, even for years. Usually, the reason for this is to avoid uprooting the kids.

I can certainly understand the rationale -- especially since so many Japanese fathers are workaholics like Hub (or even more so than Hub), I understand why the wives don't want to go through the hassle of a move, and make the kids change schools.

Of course, it doesn't just happen in Japan. A friend of mine, one of the mothers of Big Son's friends, lived in LA for about five years with her son while her husband worked in San Francisco, and she joined him here only a couple of years ago.

A few weeks ago, she warned me, "People are going to start asking if you're worried about your husband being unfaithful."

"They already have, and he's not even gone yet," I said.

"What are they thinking? What business is it of theirs?" she sighed.

It was true -- people really asked me that. A few were close friends and were genuinely concerned, and that was okay. But others were people I didn't know that well, whom I assume were simply curious.

I would tell them, "No, I'm not worried -- I try not to think about every bad thing that might happen, but THANKS FOR BRINGING IT UP!"

Now, Hub is human and I suppose it's possible. But since the primary problem in our relationship is that he's married to his job first and me second, I figure the chances of him making time for another person are pretty slim. I don't lose any sleep worrying about it.

The things people have said to me are pretty incredible, though. Here's a sampling:

"I can't believe you're letting your husband do this."

That one was funny on so many levels. Hub didn't decide to do this on his own -- his government organization is making him do it, and he is reluctantly going along with it. He couldn't refuse, so his only option would have been to leave his job. (In fact, I did ask him to consider doing that, but he wouldn't -- they've got him for life, or until the Japanese government realizes it's got the highest debt-to-GDP ratio in the developed world, and starts cutting workers, which Hub persists in believing will never happen.)

As for Hub returning to Tokyo on his own, he obviously wishes we were all returning with him, together as a family. But he and I sat down last December, carefully weighed all the options, and together made the decision for me to stay in San Francisco for one more school year with the kids. Neither one of us is "letting" the other do anything.

This brings me to the next obnoxious comment:

"I don't understand why you think this can possibly be good for your children, to be without their father."

Being apart from their father does indeed suck, and it was a tough call, but we decided to do what we thought was best, overall. I realize that no matter how many times I cite the benefits, the people who think we're doing the wrong thing aren't going to agree.

"I could NEVER do what you're doing!"

Just reading this statement doesn't convey the full impact of the way the person said it, with so much horror that it made me feel as if she had accused me of, I don't know, stealing food, or working as a prostitute to pay our bills. The implication was that I was doing something really unfathomable and desperate.

"Oh, those POOR kids, without a father!"

I never know how to answer this one. They kids are fine. We'll be fine. We don't want your pity, so please keep it to yourself. They still have a father -- really.

I'll add more as I think of them.

Humpty Dumpty had a great guilt trip.

So, did you dye Easter eggs last week, and do you now have a fridge full of very pretty but unappetizing shelled objects?

Did you buy the very cheapest white eggs? And then boil them for a reeeeeally long time, to make sure they were thoroughly cooked?

I brought some colored eggs to work to eat for lunch this week, just to get rid of them. Now, I LIKE hard-boiled eggs -- I do. But these eggs are something else.

They're rubbery to the point of being chewy. Eggs should NOT be chewy! And the yolks.... I usually buy the more expensive brown eggs, so I'm not used to yolks that are so pale and tasteless.

After eating one, and passing a few more on to unsuspecting co-workers, I decided to throw the rest of them away.

Yeah, you heard me. I THREW THEM AWAY!

I thought, I am a grown woman! I should not have to eat disgusting rubbery eggs just to avoid feeling guilty about wasting food!

But.....I felt guilty anyway.

And I still feel guilty, or I wouldn't be blogging about it.

Poor kid?

Yes, the kids are still going to Japanese school on Saturdays -- a commenter just asked.

I should be better at updating this blog. I should reassure all the kind, concerned people that so far, mornings without me have gone fine.

On school nights, I put Little Son to bed in his school uniform, so the big kids don't have to dress him.

WHAT?!? Don't look at me like that!

Hub thinks this is a form of child abuse. Ah, but Hub is not here, is he? So his opinion counts for naught.

Little Son does not object. The uniform is comfortable. It consists of blue corduroys, a white button-down shirt (no-iron, cotton/poly blend) and a sweater. Twice a week, it's a sweatshirt and sweatpants, for PE.

Some people think this is as insidious as putting my kid to sleep wrapped in sandpaper and bound with barbed wire.

Well, these people can come right on over and dress him for me in the morning.

The kids are discovering that weekends with just Mama aren't anywhere near as interesting as weekends when Papa was around.

I made Big Son go to mass yesterday.

"I only make you go like three times a year!" I said.

"That's three hours of my life, wasted," he grumbled.

He kind of has a point.

But at least church filled up part of the morning, after all the chocolate eggs were found.

Then what? Oh, we went out to Fresh Choice for lunch (a salad bar chain) and then we all went together to (......drumroll, please....) Home Depot.

Yeah, I know, F-U-N! We went to pick out some flowers to plant in the backyard, and the kids were so bored they actually seemed to enjoy it. So I guess there was a point in dragging Big Son to mass after all, because Home Depot seemed really cool by comparison.

Daughter picked out some white daisies with purple centers.

"Look, Mama -- goth flowers!"

????

"They've got pale faces and dark purple lipstick," she explained.

I had to buy them, after that.

In fact, the goth flowers are the point of this entire post.

Yeah, I lead an exciting life.

Lately I have this debate every night:

Blog?

Or sleep?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...................................

At the airport
I turned around to wave to him one last time
but he was already gone.

The End of the Beginning, or the Beginning of the End?

It's after 9:00, and Hub's not home yet.

It has occurred to me that being a temporary single mom is going to be strikingly similar in many respects to being the wife of a workaholic.

It also occurred to me, isn't it funny, how happy anticipation sometimes resembles dread?

All day at work today, I was trying not to think about Hub leaving tomorrow. But the thought would creep up on me, unexpectedly. Oh, there's something I'm trying not to think about. And then I would remember what it was, and that it wasn't a good thing, and then I would have to consciously push it out of my mind again.

My job involves not just writing but lots of reading. All day long, I read other news reports and analyst reports, and I email questions to the analysts and read their responses.

And today I found myself reading and re-reading the same paragraphs over and over, and having trouble grasping what they meant. Dollar? Down? Huh? I was working in slow-motion, checking and re-checking all of my numbers because I knew my brain was elsewhere

Fortunately, the euro kept rising to new highs so I had to update my market report a lot, which kept me robotically busy.

And I kept reminding myself: no one is sick, no one is dead. Hub is just going away. We'll be together again as a family in the foreseeable future.

So why does this feeling of dread keep creeping back?

And even more importantly -- when will it go away?

Yeah, okay....

So my subsequent discussion with the teacher was boring and anticlimactic. She mistakenly thought Hub was already gone, and didn't realize he doesn't leave until this Thursday. And Little Son has been acting better since then -- an earlier bedtime seems to have helped. So much for letting him stay up late so he could see his father at night.

I told the teacher that Little Son would take a break from karate, too. If he's kicking other kids, I thought it might make sense that he stop practicing how to kick harder, at least for a few weeks until school is out.

Yesterday, it was a beautiful day, so I pulled weeds out in our backyard. I love sticking my fingers in dirt.

Hub was working, Big Son and Daughter were both at friends' houses, and Little Son had no interest in helping me in the yard, or even keeping me company -- he wanted to watch DVDs, and I let him, just so I could do my weeding.

Today, I'm feeling guilty. I should have taken him to a playground or something. Sure, the yard looks good now, but the weeds will grow back, and that day is lost forever.

He came home from school today with a cut-out heart he made for me, on which he wrote "I LOF YO, MOMO."

Tonight at karate, he broke a board for the first time ever -- and told me he doesn't want to take a break from it after all.

Okay, then.

We will keep on.

Note in Little Son's backpack today

Hi --

(attached to a flyer for a public facility that offers free mental health services)

This is a place that some of our families have used for counseling. I'm wondering if counseling would help Little Son with the adjustments he needs to make now with all the changes at home.

I've been working with him and talking with him a lot about behavior. He is hitting and kicking often and he does not listen to us as well as he used to.

Just thought you might want to think about this.

Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher

----------------------------------------------

It's not that I have anything against counseling -- it sure helped Big Son, and in the past it sure helped me.

But....why drop this bombshell in a note, when I pick my kids up in person every day? Today, Mrs. Kindergarten Teacher smiled and said hello and could have spoken to me, but chose to let me find the note in the backpack instead.

And when did these problems start? Perhaps it would have been helpful to know about his behavioral problems before we decided to live apart from Hub so we could stay at this school for another year, and signed a lease, and even moved to another house?

I have not been blogging regularly, so I haven't bitched about all of the people who have told me that they think I am making a mistake, and will regret it because my children will suffer without Hub around.

I try to ignore the naysayers, because Hub and I knew we were dealing with a set of crappy choices. No matter what we did, there would be a big downside and people would tell us we were making a mistake.

But this note just made it harder.

Still here....

Hi.

Everyone okay out there?

I am spending time with the family, and concentrating on my job.

I just wrote this story, and am happy to see it's getting lots of traffic and comments.

Oh, and here's a little related tip:

Whenever you see Bernanke's shiny bald head on TV, you should SELL THE U.S. DOLLAR.

Got that?

Good!