My giggle for the week was some parting advice from an elderly girlfriend who had me over for a vodka tonic.
"Remember, if you meet some guy down there, and he wants to get married, he's only after your money."
"Mickey, I'm never getting married again."
"And if he wants to have sex,don't forget to use protection."
"Mickey, what's sex?"
I've spent the week trying to decipher whether the $500 on my mortgage escrow account was something I owed, or something I got back, and how the hell does escrow work, anyway? I decided if it's something I got back, the money was mine and if it's something I owe, the ex can go half-sies with me.
And the mysteries of how cell phone companies operate internationally. You have to buy a cell phone and then get it "unlocked" by the phone company that has you indentured ... then, upon reaching Buenos Aires, you remove the "sim" card and buy a "go" card at the local bodega and then you punch in the card's numbers to obtain your minutes.
And apparently I have to learn the joys of texting because that's cheaper than calling. Arggg,gimme my land line.
Miz Boom Boom