Chase Vs PayPal: Like That Scene Where the T-Rex Takes on the Velociraptors

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Something really cool just happened, and I’m pretty sure it’s not some kind of weird April Fools Day joke.

So for the last month I’ve been in PayPal purgatory. (Try saying that fast.) Purgatory began for me when I sent, through PayPal, funds to a friend who has friends in Gaza in need of food and shelter. I named the people I wanted to be the recipients of my funds in my message to my friend. One of the names had “Mohammad” in it. My transaction got flagged by the PayPal police. (Again, try saying that fast.)

PayPal wanted me to give the birthdate of the man named “Mohammad” and wanted ID from me. I sent them a copy of my driver’s license, and told them I neither knew the man named Mohammad, nor his birthdate. Now PayPal told me that I had sent the wrong ID. And I let them know I wasn’t comfortable sending them any other of my identifying papers.

I got more messages from PayPal in the following days, letting me know that until I sent the right ID (I now know they didn’t want MY ID, but Mohammad’s ID), and told them Mohammad’s birthdate, my money was going to be sitting in their PayPal holding tank for 120 days, until the transaction voided out. They told me they couldn’t cancel the transaction or refund my money to me until the issue was resolved.

At this point, I contacted the Better Business Bureau and lodged a complaint. BBB said they’d see what they could do. They told me it might take a while, though.

Then yesterday, I got it in my head to call Chase – the credit card company I’d used to send money through PayPal – and see if I could get a refund through THEM. A lovely customer service agent named Amgika answered my call. I told her I honestly wasn’t sure if there was anything she could do about my PayPal plight (try saying that fast), but I explained the situation: I’d sent money through PayPal to a friend who had friends in Gaza in need of food and shelter. PayPal had flagged the transaction and put my money in their holding tank until it got resolved. PayPal had never released the funds to my friend – she’d never been given access to the money I’d sent her. Could that money be refunded back to me? Amgika said I should expect to see that money credited back to me within 48 hours.

I went to PayPal which had now sent me a message in response to my complaint to the BBB. It was polite, but they still wanted Mohammad’s birthdate and etc. to “resolve” the issue. I let PayPal know that I’d gone to my credit card company, explained to Chase that my funds had never gotten through to my friend, and asked Chase to get a refund for me. I said, “I think this will solve the problem for all of us.”

And this morning all kinds of everything happened involving messages from the BBB, PayPal, and Chase.

BBB asked if I rejected or accepted PayPal’s message to me, and why. I said I rejected it because I’d found another way of solving the problem – explaining I’d gone to Chase. Then I got this polite message from PayPal: “We understand your perspective that the transaction did not complete and that the recipient was not able to access the funds. We also understand your decision to contact your card issuer to request a refund. When a chargeback is initiated through your card provider, the review and final resolution of the transaction will be handled directly by your card issuer in accordance with their policies and timelines. PayPal will participate in that process as required…We appreciate you keeping us informed and understand your intent to resolve this matter. Thank you for your time and patience.”

THEN I got a message that I would find either a letter or a credit waiting for me in my Chase account. Egads. I wondered if Chase had rejected my request. I went to my account and found this message: “Dear KAREN TERRELL: We’re pleased to tell you that we’ve resolved your dispute…We credited your account for the full disputed dollar amount.”

Chase took care of it for me! It kind of reminds me of that scene at the end of Jurassic Park where the T-Rex takes on the velociraptors, and the T-Rex wins! Yay T-Rex!

Wedding Day

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March 31, 1984.

You know those shows you see on television where the bride spends HUGE amounts of time, thought, and bucks choosing the just right ring, dress, caterer, flowers, music, photographer, and reception venue for her “big day” – those shows where every minute detail of the wedding production is analyzed, critiqued, and judged for its merits on visual perfection? Where the ceremony is somber and refined and the highlight of the whole shebang is the dress the bride wears?

Yeah. That wasn’t us.

My engagement ring was a little garnet ring I picked out from a small jewelry shop in Pike Place Market in Seattle, and the man who sold it to us was cheerfully, flamboyantly, hilariously gay – he had us cracking up the minute we walked into his shop. My wedding dress was the first dress I tried on from the sales rack at our local Bon Marche. Cost me $120. Our minister was a hoot – we’d met with him for a required counseling session, and when he told us that anything he had to say to us would be pretty much useless at this point – because it’s really only AFTER the wedding that the bride and groom realize what they’ve gotten themselves into (we later learned that he’d just recently been divorced), we immediately recognized the man had a sense of humor, and he was, for sure, the minister we wanted officiating our nuptials.

The wedding was a joyful, light-hearted affair in a small Methodist church in Gig Harbor – I remember the minister asking us if we really wanted to hold the service in his church – it was very small – could maybe hold 100 people – and very old (it’s since been torn down and a larger church built in a different location) – but, for our purposes, that little church was perfect – I liked the cozy smallness of it and the stained glass windows – and from the church’s steps we could look out across the water and see Mount Rainier rising above the hills in the distance. The wedding itself was simple, joyful, and natural. We weren’t too concerned with “perfection” – we just wanted our guests to feel comfortable and loved.

The reception was held in my parents’ backyard – with the sound of laughter, and the smell of daffodils and plum blossoms, filling the air. And we played volleyball in the pasture – the groom’s team won, but it was a close game. The minister came to the reception, and fit right in with our hooligan families and friends. Before he left he told us that sometimes he’s really worried about the future of the newlyweds he marries – they often seem more concerned about the wedding than the actual marriage – but, after watching us yukking it up with our families and friends, he felt good about being a part of our ceremony. He knew we were going to be alright. We knew how to laugh.

***

When I think about that day, I can’t imagine why anyone would want to deny other people the right to a wedding, and to a life-long commitment in marriage with the partner they love. I can’t understand why any couple would feel their own marriage is threatened by allowing others the same rights that they have. I feel a real yearning for other folks who love one another, and are brave enough to make a commitment to each other, to be allowed to have what my husband and I were allowed to have.

What Are the Odds of THAT?!

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So this really cosmic thing happened today on the boardwalk. I was walking along, enjoying the sunshine and the people and the pups – my old friend, Baker pup; Archie and Buddy; Blue and Maverick; Murphy (who did his Buddha pose for me); and my old friend, little Daisy – and I had to stop and snap a picture of sweet Baker greeting someone on the boardwalk with his paws on the man’s chest – it was just so typical of friendly Baker. Baker always puts a smile on my face.

When the man caught up to me, I showed him the picture I’d taken of him and Baker, and asked him if it was okay to post it publicly. He smiled and thanked me and told me it was fine to post it. I asked him for his name, and he told me he was Ve. “Is that a Vietnamese name?” I asked him. Ve looked surprised that I would recognize a Vietnamese name, and I explained that my Australian daughter-in-law is of Vietnamese heritage, and that she and my son and granddaughter are all learning Vietnamese. Ve asked if they’d ever visited Vietnam, and I told him they’d gone a year ago to visit some of my daughter-in-law’s family who still live there. Ve told me then that his wife was there right now visiting her family while he stayed here and watched the children.

Then Ve said he was a “street photographer” and took pictures of people he met – and we realized we had that in common, too! He said he’d taken a photo a while ago of a pup named Bear and he’d made a card for Bear’s human. He’d been been looking for her for a couple months, but hadn’t run into her again. I asked him to describe Bear, and he took out the card he’d made and showed me Bear’s picture. I instantly recognized little Bear, and told him Bear’s human, Rebecca, was a good friend of mine! (What are the odds, right?!) I told Ve that I’d actually met Rebecca on the boardwalk several years ago (via little Bear), and had run into her again when I’d gone up to Mount Baker for a hike, and we’d become good friends! Ve’s face lit up in a big smile. He said he could totally see the two of us as friends, and asked me if I could get the card to Rebecca.

So on the way home, I stopped by Rebecca’s house to give her the card. She happened to pull into her driveway just after I got there, and I was able to deliver the card in person and get a hug, too!

Cosmic magic, my friends!

It Was Like My Whole Experience Had Been Choreographed

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From the moment I stepped out of my car in the Fred Meyer’s parking lot yesterday afternoon, to the moment I arrived back at my car after shopping, I felt surrounded in magic.

When I arrived, I grabbed a small shopping cart which someone had shoved under a tree in the parking lot, and waited to cross the pavement from where I’d parked to the sidewalk in front of Fred’s. A truck stopped for me, and I gave the driver a smile and a “go ahead” wave, and got a wave back. When the truck went on through, a woman came to the sidewalk, waiting to cross over to where I was standing. We smiled and waved at each other and executed a perfect cross-over together.

As I slowly weaved my way through the store, everyone I met – of every age and color and gender – exchanged a smile with me and treated me with kindness. And when I got to the produce section, a man glanced over at me and, in the same moment, we recognized each other. I scrabbled around in my memory and came up with the name “Matt!” Matt was a former co-worker of my husband’s at the Skagit Valley Herald, but had left his career as a photojournalist to teach full-time in Anacortes 15 or 16 years ago.

Matt’s wife, Jill, a second grade teacher in Anacortes, was there, too. When Matt went to introduce me to Jill, he said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name…” And that TOTALLY made my day! I have often been that person – the one who doesn’t remember the name – and I felt so proud that I hadn’t been that person THIS time. I thanked Matt for not remembering my name – told him it was reassuring that THIS time I won in the name-remembering thing, and Matt nodded and laughed with me about that. For the next little while Jill, Matt, and I exchanged stories about our teaching careers – talked and laughed and got caught up.

I noticed a young Fred Meyer employee stocking the bananas and intuitively turned to him and smiled. He grinned back at me and said yes, he had been listening into our conversation. Enrique said he wanted to be a school counselor someday – he wanted to be that person who helps students stay in school and get their diplomas – and he was enjoying our conversation about teaching. Enrique was so cool! He was excited about his future in education, excited about getting his degree, excited about helping others. Enrique gave me hope for the world.

When it was time for us to continue on with our shopping, I asked Jill if I could have a hug – because there’s nothing like the hug of a second grade teacher – and she laughed and gave me a bonafide second-grade-teacher hug, and I got a bonus hug from Matt, too.

I got in the checkout line behind a couple maybe in their eighties. I enjoyed watching the way they worked together as a team with their groceries. It occurred to me this couple had maybe been together fifty or sixty years. Watching them, I was kind of in awe of them.

A man came up behind me in the line with no groceries at all. I asked him if he’d like to go in front of me, and he said no, he just wanted to get a pack of smokes and he wasn’t in any hurry.

I turned back to the couple in front of me, just as my former dental hygienist (now retired), Misty, walked by with her husband. Her face lit up into a big grin when she saw me, and we waved at each other and blew each other kisses. Magic!

Now the older gentleman in the couple in front of me in line turned around and smiled and mouthed the word “sorry” – I think he was apologizing for his transaction taking so long – and I laughed and told him it was all good.

After I’d paid, I headed for the exit. I saw a woman in the lobby looking at the shopping carts – there were only a few large ones there. My groceries were not so heavy that I couldn’t get them back to my car without a cart, so I asked the woman if she’d like a small cart. She smiled and said she would. So I took my bag of groceries out of my cart and handed it off to her.

It was like my whole shopping experience had been choreographed or scripted or something: Enter stage right with a small shopping cart; exchange smiles with people; run into Matt and Jill; get into conversation with Enrique; get behind the sweet couple at the checkout stand; pass off the cart to the woman in the lobby; exit stage right.

Magic, my friends!

The Things That Are Freely Given to Us

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So there’s this verse in the Bible that I’ve been pondering the last week, and it’s led me to a better understanding of what real wealth is. Here’s the verse: “Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God.” (I Corinthians 2)

I’ve come to understand that things like patience, kindness, honesty, compassion, forgiveness, fairness, and joy don’t cost us anything, and are the door that leads to the heaven that Jesus said was “within” us. We can’t find patience or kindness on a shelf at the supermarket. We can’t put a gallon of honesty on our debit or credit cards, or use Venmo to buy a pound of forgiveness. We can only find those things within us. And there’s no limits to those things – you can’t run out of them; everyone has equal access to them; and they’re totally free!

I’ve been really conscious of drawing on the unlimited supply of patience and kindness this week as I’ve navigated my way through the challenges of life. I’ll admit I haven’t always been patient or forgiving this week – but I feel like I’ve made a start to finding my way to heaven. I think the more I practice, the easier it will become.

Power to the People!

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There was a good turnout at the rally in Sedro-Woolley this morning.

Xavier and Eduardo, in the green safety vests, helped organize the event, and acted as crosswalk guards to get us safely from one side of the roundabout to the other. (And see? We even had our own chicken to help us answer the question: Why did the chicken cross the road?)

I ran into some of my old colleagues who taught with me years ago when I was a teacher in Concrete – it was so good to see Mary and Paul, John, and Larry again!

Germaine was there, too! And Chris – who I met at a rally in MV in January, and who is one of my “old friends” now.

I met some new friends, too – Calisa, who talked about the importance of showing up at the rallies in our small hometowns, and Jonathan, who shared his experiences as a soldier deployed to Iraq after 9-11.

Jonathan said that when he’d signed up for the service, the U.S. wasn’t involved in any wars and he hadn’t expected to ever find himself fighting in the middle of one. But when he was in boot camp, 9-11 happened, and everything changed. During his time in Iraq, the command car got blown up and his commanding officer lost a leg, and his First Sergeant lost half her face. Soldiers he served with in Iraq lost their lives. Jon’s experiences in Iraq have informed the way he looks at our current war in Iran, and I am so grateful to him for his willingness to share his thoughts and experiences with me.

I left the rally feeling inspired by the people I met there, and the positive response we got from the cars passing through.

Power to the people!

Nobody Paid Me or Handed Me a Sign

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I know there’s a meme going around that FOX News busted out the “truth” about the NO KINGS rallies – that it was put together by nefarious organizations hell-bent on some diabolical plot to destroy the United States. This is fake news.

I learned about the rallies through my friends, mostly, and through a local chapter of the Indivisible organization. https://indivisible.org/

And no, nobody paid me to protest yesterday, and nobody handed me a sign. I’ve been carrying around my own hand-made TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS sign since 2020. You’d think TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS would be universal values EVERYone could agree with. But weirdly, some people actually give the thumbs down to TRUTH JUSTICE and KINDNESS. (So I made a flip side that says SEAHAWKS on it – and when I get the thumbs down for TRUTH JUSTICE KINDNESS, I flip it to the SEAHAWKS side and usually get a thumbs up and a grin from those people who just thumbs downed the other side.)

Human beings crack me up.

(Below: Evolution of my sign from 2020 to 2026.)

Dear TSA,

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Dear TSA agents:

I’m not sure I can find the words to express my gratitude to you. You are our nation’s heroes. Unpaid, unappreciated by our nation’s political “leadership,” you resolutely stand on the front lines in our airports, keeping us safe.

On Friday we traveled from SeaTac to LAX, and on Monday we made the return trip. All along the way we were treated with nothing but patience and kindness by the TSA staff. Knowing the incredible stress you must all be under now, your patience and kindness seemed superhuman to me.

SeaTac was collecting gift cards for the TSA staff, and we left a few at the drop-off place, but I know those cards don’t make a dent in what you deserve. Not only should you be receiving your duly-earned paychecks, you should be receiving medals and accolades – you should have statues in your honor. Seriously.

Thank you for your service. May our legislators and president get their act together and – without stipulation – get you the paychecks you’ve earned and deserve. You should never again be used as hostages by our politicians.

Your fan,

Karen

Good Times and Good People in La La Land

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March 22

I met so many outstanding people today.

At the Santa Monica Farmers Market, I met Jordan, who was selling honey and beeswax candles and art; Javier, selling juice and Mexican fruit; Jacob, selling baklava made by his Lebanese mom from an old family recipe; Nicholas, selling cheeses made locally; Natalie, a college student at Middlebury, who left the snow in Vermont to come our here and visit friends and soak in the rays, and who graciously let us join her at her table while she ate her lunch; and Tristan, in his most excellent “problem” cap – “Are you the…?” I asked, and “Yes, I am the problem,” he answered, laughing.

At a playground at Venice Beach I met Octavio, who was the DJ for a three-year-old’s birthday party there – keeping the background beat for the toddlers and the grown-ups alike.

And I met Shawn – who recently moved from the Netherlands with his family, and who was there in the playground with his two little ones while they played in the sand with the playground toys. I was impressed by Shawn’s parenting skills – I saw him set the boundaries for his children, and maintain those boundaries with laughter and consistency. “You like being a dad, don’t you?” I asked him, and he laughed, and nodded his head, and said he did, even in the chaos.

After Venice Beach we went to the aquarium and historic carousel on the Santa Monica Pier. My granddaughter touched a starfish and rode on a magnificent carousel horse, and I took many photos.

March 24

have to share these fine folks with you.

– Alex was the server at the Tacos San Miquel Arcangel Oaxacan restaurant we visited in Mar Vista. When he was serving our food, he noticed our toddler granddaughter had gotten some of the hot sauce into her food, and quickly pointed this out to us. As her eyes started watering up, he went back and fetched a brand new meal for her, without charge. I told him he was a hero.

– Daniel (LA cap) was our shuttle bus driver to LAX from the rental car building. After we settled into the seats behind the driver’s seat, I gathered up my courage, and said, “Okay. This is really embarrassing, but… we want to give you a tip, but all we’ve got are twenties. Can you give me back change for a twenty?” Daniel busted out laughing, and thanked me. He told me he could give me whatever change back I wanted. I asked for ten, and he pulled out a ten dollar bill from his tips and exchanged it for my twenty. Daniel was so cool – and I really appreciated his understanding of our situation.

– Once we got up to our plane’s waiting area, I looked for a seat that had a plug-in for my phone’s charger. I asked a young man in his late teens or early twenties if I could sit in the seat next to him to use his charger. He smiled and said sure. When he saw I was having a hard time figuring out how to plug my phone in, Edyson quietly plugged it in for me. I told Edyson how much I appreciated his kindness. Edyson gives me hope for our future.

– I’m always eager to see who our seatmate will be on the airplaine, and I was so happy when a smiling young man approached and introduced himself as the man in the window seat. Our new seatmate immediately opened the shade on his window. I told him how glad I was that he’d done that because I like looking out the window.

Grady and I started talking then about the landforms we can see from the plane – and I mentioned Mount Rainier. This is when I learned that Grady had climbed Rainier. I told him I’d climbed Rainier, too, decades ago – my dad (and…ahem… I MIGHT have mentioned that my dad is in Wikipedia for mountain climbing) had led me to the summits of Rainier and Baker and Adams and Hood when I was younger. Grady said that he’d climbed Mount Rainier when he worked there as a ranger – and I told Grady I had climbed it when I worked at Rainier, too!

I asked him what he’d majored in to get him in a position as a ranger. Grady said he’d majored in History – and I told him that had been my major, too! He said a lot of folks get into the park service with a degree in science, to do research. I told him my dad had majored in geology, and worked as a ranger and a guide at Rainier for several years.

THEN I learned that Grady now works in the North Cascades and I told him we lived in Skagit County. Whoah. And THEN I learned that his girlfriend works at Rainier now, and lives in Ashford, and he and his girlfriend know our good friends, Rick and Jana Johnson, who own the pottery shop there.

Connections, my friends! I love these connections – the new ones and the ones that connect us to the old ones, too.

So Many Gifts Today!

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So many gifts today!

I drove into Mount Vernon to take the steps I needed to take to donate my Cosmic Connections book to the library there. I was greeted at the counter by the ever-kind and ever-welcoming CJ, librarian extraordinaire. CJ asked me if the application explains that once a book is donated, whether they decide to put it on their shelves or not, they won’t be giving it back to me. I told him that the application mentions that, and that I’m fine with whatever they want to do with my book – I just hope it will bring some joy to whoever ends up with it. We chatted then about what my book is about. I told CJ that Cosmic Connections chronicles the experiences I have meeting cool people and sharing the joy of these connections. I told him a lot of the stories take place in Mount Vernon, and that HE would probably be in my next book, and he started cracking up.

I love people who know how to laugh with me.

After I’d dropped off my book, I walked along the River Walk down to Lions Park, taking photos of the bloated Skagit River as I went. I watched a pair of birds cruising down the river on a log, like it was there own personal yacht. That brought me a grin.

Then I walked down to the Skagit Valley Food Co-Op to get myself a mocha. There was such joy there today. Keely was behind the counter. Her hair brought me joy and I asked if I could take her photo. She grinned and gave me permission.

A young woman named Vanessa was greeted by an old friend she hadn’t seen in a while, and their happiness and excitement at seeing each other again brought me more joy. Before Vanessa left the store, I asked her if I could get her picture – explained she’d brought me joy today. She laughed and graciously agreed to a photo – you feel the irresistible joy from her, too, right?

When I stopped off at the post office, I saw a little frog hopping around in the parking lot. “What are you doing here, buddy?” I asked him. The parking lot did not seem like a good place for him. So I scooped him up and walked him down to a bank next to the slough. He hopped out of my hands and then looked up at me. I’m pretty sure he was smiling. Live long and prosper, my little friend!

And if all that magic wasn’t enough, later, when I went to the bank, I couldn’t help but notice the cool red shoes of the woman in front of me in line. I told her they reminded me of my childhood, and she laughed and nodded. We talked then about playing outside all day when we were youngsters – tag and kick-the-can. Her shoes brought back a lot of happy memories for me.