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Published on June 25, 2015August 25, 2020 by ibindarteLeave a comment

In a few hours I will start my journey back to Swampscott MA, home to Carol Brady, David Lee Roth, a few retired Boston athletes and me. As you can see in the photo below, Zena knows I’m leaving and has been giving me the biggest guilt trip ever since. Or it could be that she senses my anxiety. I have flown around the world in the past few years and yet I still get anxious before I fly. I actually seriously considered taking Zena with me but with the fireworks on the 4th, I thought it would be best to take her another time. Although I can’t stop thinking how cool it would be for Zena to enjoy the beach and all the sites and meet the family. I really must figure out a way to train my dogs not to be afraid of fireworks.

Zena's you're leaving me? How could you? look. — Zena’s you’re leaving me? How could you? look.

Going home feels strange for me. It has been over 4 years since I’ve been back to Boston. It’s the first time in 4 years since I took a non-business trip. And, I haven’t been away from Rodrigo for more than a week for over 4 years. What also sucks is that this is the first time I’ve spent the 4th apart from Rodrigo. Our first date was on July 4th 2001. I wish he could visit with me but his work is preventing him. I’ll miss him terribly while I’m gone. Balancing life in two countries is hard, you always have a loved one far away no matter where you are.

So, last night I packed. Between the uneven sidewalks of Argentina and the challenge of having dogs that love to pull, I haven’t worn high heels in years. I’m taking advantage of the even sidewalks of the US and no dogs to enjoy heels while I’m away. Packing my heels proved to be a difficult task last night. Marvin kept stealing my shoes as I dug around the box o’shoes for the match. My usual tracker, Elsa, was no help in finding my shoe mates as she too kept pulling out shoes and running. I wonder if they were trying to keep something of me while I’m gone. I’m going to miss them.

Mom has already promised me that she will sit on my chest every morning at 5:30 to wake me up and then drag me for 5 kilometers around town so I don’t miss the dogs that much. Like a good Julie McCoy, she has also planned just about every minute of my time home so if you would like to see me please arrange our meeting with my Cruise Director just PM me for her number. Ever since I booked my trip, mom has been like a 5 year old starting a count down to Christmas in July. For two months now all her whatsapps have been about what we will do when we will do it etc. I love it. I can’t wait to see mom and have her make me a grilled cheese sandwich. Initially I planned to surprise my parents and just show up. Then I thought better and realized they are old and a surprise like that may cause health issues. Plus, I needed a place to send all my Amazon boxes.

Amazon is better than Alice's Restaurant. You really can have anything you want. — Thank God there is no Amazon.com in Argentina. I’d be broke!

So after all this time why am I traveling to home? May Dad is turning 70. I can’t believe my dad is going to be 70. That’s grandpa’s age not dad’s age. His birthday is on July 2nd or 3rd. I can’t really remember the exact date. I blame the Swampscott fireworks. Swampscott’s fireworks are always on the 3rd. I keep trying to remember if that event is on my dad’s birthday or the day after. Either way, I won’t be able to see him on the 3rd. His evil girlfriend has him booked for the day and night. My hope is to have a few good hours or so with him. He promised me a day at Home Depot and coffee every morning. It is tough for him since the C U next Tuesday doesn’t like him hanging out with us (me and Mom). After all these years she still thinks my mom and I are trying to get him to come back to mom. HA! Mom and I will continue our fairly recent tradition of dining at Anthony’s that evening. Anyone is welcome to join. It should be a blast, I make mom pretend she is Joan Crawford. It takes a few martini’s in her before she can snipe at me about my posture.

If after traveling for a whole day to celebrate Dad’s b-day, I only get a few hours with him that’s ok. At least I will get to see him. I’m lucky that I still have both parents alive. I plan to take advantage of every text, every call and any millisecond being with them in person because who knows what tomorrow will bring. It is an odd time in my life as I see the first half of my life gone. I have friends who I used to party with in my 20’s who are now turning 50!!! How did this happen? For all the bad that Facebook brings to society, having the ability to see my friends and family’s life’s milestones makes the evil site worthwhile. It still doesn’t take the place of laughing out loud together, but at least it is something. I plan to see you all while I’m home and have many gut splitting LOLs. If I am a weird sentimental mess around you it is because I missed you.

WTF people

Published on June 19, 2015August 25, 2020 by ibindarteLeave a comment

Many people ask me, especially non-US citizens, ask me why would I move from the US to Argentina. My answer is always about the quality of life I have down here. Society here centers around living and experiencing life, being outdoors, longer days and nights. It isn’t focused around working. Working is a way to pay for whatever you need to enjoy life. Work isn’t life. Yes, Argentina has many issues; the government is beyond explanation, the economy is one of the worst in the world, and crime is shocking. However, with all the crime down here which is mostly focused around theft, there hasn’t been a mass shooting by a lone gun man. It is important to note that he dirty war was the last time Argentina experienced mass killings which was done by the government.

I moved to Argentina in March 2011, since then, there has been 15 mass shootings in the US. WTF. For those who like spreadsheets MotherJones has a very comprehensive list of all shootings and their basic details since 1982. Every time I read about another shooting in the US, I think back to a conversation I had with two co-workers about gun violence in America. We just left our company’s Christmas party and somehow started talking about America’s violence. It was a very interesting conversation as we were all in HR which gave us some insight into humans I guess, and had different cultural viewpoints as one co-worker was from Russia and the other from Germany. We compared societies, child rearing, and the laws in each country. The US, Russia and Germany all have/had histories of being “warring” nations, all three are industrial nations with very stressed worker bees, on and on we compared. We just couldn’t truly pinpoint one reason or reasons why the US is so out of control while other countries in the world do not have such an issue. A few hours later I was at the airport on my way home. On the news was coverage of the Newtown shooting. I couldn’t believe it, another one.

I can’t help but wonder what makes these people go on a shooting spree while others don’t. I think about my life. I moved around a lot due to my dad’s job. I was always the new kid. During my early years I was a chubby latch key kid. I was bullied and picked on throughout elementary and high school. I used to come home from school and cry. I used to dream about having powers like Carrie so I can make them stop. I had troubles. In addition, my dad kept guns, tons of guns. There were guns under his bed, in the closet, in various corners of our home. I had every possible chance to take any of those guns and make them stop. Yet, even during my most worst times I never thought about shooting anyone. Why? Because my dad taught me to respect guns. My sister and I knew where every gun was and all the bullets. We didn’t touch them without my dad being right next to us. He drilled into our heads how picking up a gun means you plan to kill. He instilled the seriousness of what it means to take a life, any life human or animal. He taught me and my sister how to deal with our issues in a logical Dr. Spock kind of way. I can’t help but think is that the difference?

I’m not a parent. I can’t say how to raise children. I can only look at my life and see how my parent raised me during a very difficult time in my life and how I never acted on my pain even with the literal arsenal at my fingertips. I can also use my own experience raising 4 dogs. I know their potential. I know they could kill. Rodrigo and I take time out everyday to train them to ensure we are able to control them and that they know right from wrong. I observe my dogs and learn their cues that help me understand what they are thinking and feeling. I respond to their actions and manage their fears and excitement. I can’t help but think if I, a person who never had a dog until 3 years ago, can manage 4 dogs why couldn’t the families of these shooters see they were time bombs waiting to go off?

I don’t know much. I’m just thinking. I can only hope and pray that none of my family or friends in the US ever fall victim of a shooting. I worry about this daily. Stay inside and play with your dog everyone.

What we did this Winter – August 2014

Published on June 2, 2015January 12, 2016 by ibindarteLeave a comment

For the past few months the mood around our house was really heavy. Heavy with the loss of Belo, our work demands and we kept the last 3 from Zena’s litter which meant training puppies. In the midst of work, training, and grieving, we learn my Jeep’s visa was about to expire. This means we must drive the Jeep out of the country and then back into Argentina to renew its visa.

Because Cordoba is pretty much in the middle of the country, we could go East or West to leave the country. The pups never saw snow so I thought it would be great if we drove through the Andes and spend a day in Chile.

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