What is this feeling?

Okay, so it might have taken a few glasses of wine to get to this point, and a few renditions of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" (don't judge!) but for the first time in a long time, sitting here with Alix, not having work tomorrow, I feel...happy. 

I am on a constant roller coaster of emotions these days: I know that in a month, things will be settled into a new routine and I'll feel better, but since I hate change, these next few weeks are going to be a nightmare for me.  I go from being excited about my three new boys to crying over leaving my little guy.  I'm thrilled by all the responses I'm getting to the ads I have posted on caregiver websites for a second part-time nanny position, but I'm simultaneously terrified by all the change that is rapidly taking over my life right now.  In a matter of weeks, it's likely that I won't be working for either of my current jobs anymore and I'll become a member of two completely new families, with new little ones to love and new routines to get used to. 

But tonight, I'm going to enjoy my wine, my bad taste in pop music, and the chance to sleep in tomorrow.  Hey, it's the little things, right? 

A happy memory: the last day of vacation before my senior year of college started, my best friends and I went to the local butterfly conservatory and had a blast.  I felt like a kid again, trying to stand so still so the butterflies would land on you.

Sharing is Caring

What, doesn't everyone share their spoonful of peanut butter with their cat?  No?  Oh well.  Guess it kinda fits with the lesbian stereotype that I should be a crazy cat lady too.

The Lowest Point

Today, I gave my two weeks notice.

The conversation went as well as could be expected.  It was civil, short, and to the point.  My boss actually verbalized to my face the issue that is the crux of why I'm leaving, and I quote: "Believe it or not, this is all a lot harder for us than it is for you."  I responded, "Well, you just stated exactly why I am feeling that my needs and concerns are being disregarded and disrespected.  It's because you don't consider them as important as your own."

Then she went back and forth between pretending nothing was wrong to being absolutely horribly vindictive and cruel.  At one point today she actually yanked my little guy from my arms and stalked away.  These next two weeks are going to be hellish.  My only hope is that today was the worst because of the shock and newness of the situation.

All I can hope for is that these next two weeks go by as quickly as my hour-long commute to work did this morning.  I felt like I stepped out of my door to the front of theirs, key in hand, praying to every god I could think of to please, please let this go well.

 I'm so overwhelmed by everything I'm feeling, I don't even know how to verbalize it, let alone process it.  For two more weeks, I will give that boy all the love, hugs, kisses, and cuddles as I possibly can.  And then, somehow, I'll have to say goodbye.

A Vacation of Sorts

Not only did we clean, we bought flowers!

Anyone who says they don't scour their apartment before their parents come to visit is either lying, or should be.  Even - and perhaps especially - when said parents say things like, "Oh, we don't want you to feel like you have to clean up before we get there!"  Right.  Well.  Let's start by removing the dirty laundry from the kitchen table, the ice cream cartons from the TV stand, the sneakers from the counter top, and the dog bone from the bed.  And then maybe we'll get to some actual cleaning.  And incidentally?  Cleaning makes you really, really dirty.  Which then necessitates showering.  All of which Alix and I were frantically doing on Friday morning before my parents arrived for their much-anticipated visit.  Since I had the day off from work, we had essentially let all housekeeping duties slide until that morning and planned on getting everything done before their arrival at 2 PM.  We fueled up on coffee by 9 AM and then set to work.  When they arrived at 3:00, Alix and I were panting, breathless, wet from our showers, but oooh lemme tell you, our house was CLEAN.  It shone.  It sparkled.  Things had found homes that they never knew before. (Yes, empty flower pot, you now live in a closet, not on the living room floor.  Ahem.  Not that I'm saying I actually kept a flower pot on the floor for three months.  Purely hypothetical.)  And I did not do that whole nonchalant oh-why-thank-you-our-place-always-looks-like-this dance.  Nope.  We took full credit for our clean home and had the bloodstained thumbnail bed to prove it. (Well, at least Alix did.  An unfortunate incident with a wicker basket occurred in the bedroom.)

No longer do coats live on the kitchen chairs.

Clean apartment and all, we had an amazing long weekend with my family.  My talented father fixed twenty million things around the apartment that needed fixing, including making my closet doors open and close, making it so the bathroom door can close and lock (this is big news, people), hanging a coat rack, hanging a hook for Rupert's leash, installing an indoor clothesline (remember this problem?), and - most impressively - building and installing a removable gate for the bathroom door that allows Tucker to jump in and keeps Rupert out.  In exchange for all his hard work, I made my dear father a grilled cheese.  It was the best I could offer. 


The weekend also included a blueberry pie (made by yours truly), my brother pulling his badge on a taxi driver, Alix's dad and my parents meeting (also big news, everyone), a whole lot of coffee, a whole lot of wine, and one spectacular job interview.  I want to work for this family so, so bad but it involves me finding another part-time nanny job since they only need me part-time as well.  We'll see what happens, but it's a big step in the right direction.  Did I mention they live a block away?  And that they have three little boys?  And that I love them to pieces already?

With the house empty now, and it being only 7:45 PM (and since I'm not exhausted from baking cookies all day), I find myself a little...bored.  Maybe I'll start drafting a resignation letter.  Or maybe I'll enjoy my little vacation for a few more hours and do something wild and crazy like...read a magazine.

Straws Should Be For Drinking

This is me.
(I'm not quite this hairy.  Usually.)
And this is me looking for other jobs.

All Good Things

Today's beautiful weather - 72 degrees! - had me feeling good.  My little guy and I enjoyed the sun with an outing to the bank (thrilling, I know).  Then I got off of work two hours early and Alix and I celebrated the occasion by deciding we wanted ice cream to go with the warm weather.  Even though our corner store has seven zillion flavors of Ben & Jerry's, I desperately wanted a cone for the full experience, so we took the subway way, way up the west side to the only scoop shop around.  I enjoyed their new flavor, Late Night Snack, which is basically this heavenly concoction of salty and sweet with chocolate.  Um...delicious.  Alix got her usual disgusting combination of coffee ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.  Talk about ruining a perfectly good opportunity for ice cream.  Sheesh.

 

Yeah, I know this is an awful picture.  Sorry.

Anyway, after taking the subway all the way back, we decided we weren't quite ready to head home so we hit up a local thrift store that we've been meaning to visit for awhile now.  It was hot and stuffy, and way more crowded than I expected, but I have an obsession for thrift stores so I didn't mind.  I love hunting for a good find amidst all the bad prom and bridesmaid dresses and XXL blazers with shoulder pads.  I came home with a dress and a rustic 1950's era kitchen clock.

It even tells time!

The dress was a contemplated decision; the clock a last second (haha) one.  We weren't even sure if it would work once we put a battery in it.  Then came a little home decorating.  The clock clearly belongs in the kitchen, so we hauled out the nails to hang it and then I got all excited about hanging up this world map we've had for ages but have never put up.  A strange combination, I know, but they both make our kitchen area look even funkier and charismatic than before.  (Who's ever heard of having a map in the kitchen, right?  Well now if I'd like to know where Kazakhstan is while I'm making dinner, by golly, I can just look up and find it.)

Our apartment is tilted.  So it's not our fault the map is crooked.  Ok?

The windows are open and our apartment smells beautifully of the lilies that a friend gave us.  The dog is sleeping, the cat is prowling, The Weepies are playing, and a pizza is on its way.  Life. Is. Good.

When Pilates Attacks

In an effort to avoid "spinning burn-out," Alix and I decided to try a different workout class tonight since I have an exceptionally reasonable work schedule this week that allows for evening class attendance.  Since neither of us was feeling up for any intense cardio action, we decided to try a Pilates class.  Oh my.  I knew so little about Pilates that I actually Googled "what to wear to Pilates" before going.  Turns out you should wear form-fitting comfortable clothes.  Got it.  So I put on my form-fitting comfortable clothes and some sneakers and we headed over, nervously waiting for the yoga class before us to finish so we could follow everyone else into the studio and copy whatever the heck it was they were doing.  Apparently, you need an exceptional amount of equipment for this class: a mat, a mat cover, a block, a Pilates ring, and a towel.  (Turns out Alix should also have grabbed a helmet.  But we're getting to that.)  So we were setting up in about the farthest back corner possible when the instructor - a lovely man named Paul (why is everyone who works at this gym named Paul?) - came to adjust the music and we frantically told him we were new and to please please be gentle with us.  He was very nice and excited to have newcomers. 

The hour-long class went by fairly quickly but if I thought it was going to be easy, I was definitely wrong.  My abs were burning and my legs were shaking about twenty minutes in.  Then catastrophe struck.  We had been told to hold the block sideways between our calves (I know this is hard to picture), sit in a V position, and then rock quickly backwards and then back up to the V, all while maintaining the squeeze position on the block.  Well, Alix lost control of her block.  And no, not in the conveniently upright V position, but in the I'm-upside-down-and-the-block-almost-hit-me-in-the-face position.  Paul very sweetly got her a smaller, lighter block while the two of us tried to contain our giggles as the gentle Eastern-inspired music played on.  Clearly, we were not the class all-stars tonight.  But afterwards, we felt loose and limber and it gave my old cranky hip flexors a good stretch.  Ever since I rowed during college and repeatedly strained both hip flexors, running and walking have caused flare-ups and have reduced my hip flexibility to that of an 80-year-old.  If I keep the Pilates up though, things should be improving in no time.  Barring any more block incidents, we will be returning to Pilates regularly.

Update on my last post: Thank you so much to everyone that read about Sage's project and donated to her cause.  She was featured on the local news tonight and you can read the article here.  She reached her $1,000 goal on the first day and is now aiming for $2,000. 

An Inspiring Girl

This morning I received an email that made me cry...in public...in a coffee shop.  The reason, you may ask?  The family with two girls I used to care for that I spoke of in this post had an amazing story to share.  Sage, the older of the two girls, is seven years old.  She is precocious, funny, kind, and wise beyond her years.  When I cared for her and her little sister, she made me laugh with her silly antics and stop and think with her endless questions.  She'd hug me so hard I'd lose my breath and gently help her toddler sister up the stairs for their bath.  She was so proud when she could finally do the monkey bars on their play structure by herself that she jumped up and down like a bunny for a good ten minutes.  I fell in love with this precious girl from the moment I first met her and I cried like a baby when I left them after graduation.

The morning following the earthquakes and tsunamis, Sage demonstrated her overwhelming kindness by deciding she wanted to help fundraise for the victims of these natural disasters.  The message I've included below contains the text of the letter she wishes to share with everyone, as well as a picture of the actual letter she wrote.  Please note this touching fact: she is offering a gently used toy, book, or a handmade clay sculpture to anyone who donates to her cause.  This girl loves her toys and books with a fiery passion.  She tends to her dolls like they are babies (because to her, they are) and reads voraciously, with or without the help of an adult.  For her to offer to give up her most precious possessions to help those in need literally breaks my heart with joy and I hope it does to you.  Please, please read the message below and consider donating through the web page set up by her mother.  Can you help her reach her goal of raising $1000?  Can you help her surpass it?  I know that we can.

Below is a letter to you, from Sage. It came straight from her heart, every word is her own, and we are so proud of her loving spirit.

"Dear Everyone,

I am selling my gently used toys and books along with clay sculptures I made. I am doing this to help the people in Japan who lost their houses because of the earthquake.  My goal is one thousand dollars.  One thousand dollars is the cost of one complete shelter box. A shelterbox is a box with a tent for up to ten people, children's books and crayons, blankets and sheets, water purification, a stove and many other tools.

I feel like I need to help the people in Japan because they need my help.  I know I can help. Can you help too?

Love,
Sage"

To contribute toward Sage's goal, simple go to:

https://shelterboxusa.myetap.org/fundraiser/reps/

then click on "Find a Team/Participant" on the righthand side and type in Sage M. Friedman. Once you select her fundraising page, just click on "sponsor me."

The website is secure, and your contribution is tax deductible.

Shelterbox is an organization devoted to sending much needed shelter, food, and living supplies directly into areas hard hit by natural disasters. To find out more about Shelterbox, I encourage you to visit their website at Shelterboxusa.org

A Hot Topic

There I am, going about my daily beginning routine at work at the bakery today: clocking in, tying my handkerchief on (which was extremely difficult given that the bathroom light doesn't work right now so we all had to change - and pee - in the pitch dark), and serving customers when all of a sudden, my friend and semi-boss (whose last day was today) says, "Hey Caitlin!  Today you're going to learn to bake cookies.  You'll learn from Paige for half an hour until she leaves and then I'll be around to answer any questions after that.  Mkay?  Great!"
"Um are you sure I'm ready, really?  I mean I'm totally fine serving the customers and, and, cleaning, and, and..."
"Caitlin.  You've worked here six months by now.  The only reason you haven't learned yet is because you only work on the weekends when it's insanely busy and we have no time to teach you.  So today you're going to learn!"
(Did I miss something here?  Isn't it Sunday?  Isn't it crazy crazy holy shit kind of crazy busy with a line out the door and you want me to learn how to bake cookies now??!!)

The lesson began with an overview of where all the cookie dough is kept (in giant refrigerators on sheet trays that are very, very heavy since they are covered in 6 oz cookie dough balls) and how to "sheet" cookies, i.e., how to put twelve cookie dough balls on a sheet tray covered in parchment paper.  Easy enough.  Next part is harder.  We have two ovens to bake the cookies in.  The top oven bakes unevenly so only two kinds go in there and they have to be turned 180 degrees halfway through their time.  The bottom oven bakes evenly and so our two other kinds only go in that oven and they don't need to be turned.  But wait!  You can put the first two kinds in the bottom oven too, but then it's for a different amount of time and there's no turning.  Oh and we own seven timers.  And sometimes even when the cookies on top have been in for the full time the middle racks aren't done so you have to turn them again and bake them for another two minutes.  Sometimes.  And oh yeah, the line is out the door. all. day.

I was frantic, but trying to keep it under control.  I can be good under pressure, but that does not mean I completely avoid looking terrified while doing whatever it is I'm doing.  But I did it!  For the whole day, I sheeted dough balls and passed them into the ovens and set timers and moved trays and took out trays and turned trays and reset timers and turned off timers and oh jeez the timers.  I only forgot to set one once but my boss was very understanding.  She told me to call the unemployment office in the morning and ask them about what benefits they have for fired 23-year-olds (she was kidding).

Successes of the Day:
I burned NO COOKIES.
I dropped NO COOKIES.
I ran out of NO COOKIES.

Failures of the day:
I forgot to set the timer once.  But the cookies were okay.
I got overzealous and sheeted about five extra trays and had to put the dough balls back on their trays in the refrigerator before we closed.
I burned myself, once, briefly, but even briefly on a 500 degree oven is enough to hurt.  A LOT.  So now I have a pretty red slash on the inside of my wrist that is nicely covered in Neosporin and a big bandage by my very concerned boss.  She must have told me to keep it covered, oh, thirty times.  Don't worry.  It's covered.  See?

But holy moly, did I make a lot of cookies.  I'm not sure if I ever want to eat one again.  Oh wait, did I just say that?  HAHAHAHA right.

An(other) exciting day in the lives of Cait and Al

Tonight I saw a girl who was no more than sixteen drop her handle of vodka on the sidewalk outside our corner store where it shattered into hundreds of glass shards and sent the reek of cheap alcohol into the air.  It made me feel old, to be so disappointed in her (good God, I sound like her mother).  And then I got to thinking that at 23, I really could be leading a much more exciting life than I do.  Instead, this is generally how things are going right now.

 Laundry day yesterday!  Um, so, laundry in New York is EFFING EXPENSIVE.  We're talking $5 a wash load here, people.  And a quarter for every five minutes in the dryer.  So, thanks to my mother's college gift to me of a massive drying rack - that yes, I got made fun of by everyone in my house until, heyyyy they wanted to know if they could dry some of their clothes on it? - we are able to save some money each week by drying things in the apartment.  The problem is, the massive drying rack just isn't, well, big enough.  So the rack is layered three times over with clothes, like this

And then we also have to put clothes on other things, like this:

(this is the tv)

and this

(this is a lamp.  that we got for free on the curb.)

The other members of our small family, i.e., the boys, keep us young with their wicked antics.  Please examine Rupert's most recent attempt at destruction.  TO MY KINDLE.  My Kindle is my baby.  I love it more than I love many flavors of ice cream.  I read it on the subway, at the gym, and in bed when I can't sleep.  Thank goodness it still works, or I wouldn't be speaking to Rupert for weeks.

But then Tucker took a swing at him in what I believe was a show of loyalty to me, with the amazingly captured moment looking something like this

But, in all honesty, I'm a big softie and I love this puppy more than anything.  Which is why I give him treats when he does cute tricks like these.
Notes about the video below:
1) I probably sound nothing like what you thought I do.
2) Rupert is not so great at rolling over - give him a break, it's hard!
3) I am not, nor will I ever be, nor do I aspire to be a videographer.  This crappy stuff is the best you're going to get outta me.

So there you go.  We might not be that exciting, but hey, at least we keep ourselves entertained.

Oh What a Day

Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  In chronological order:

1.  Woke up at 4:15 (no explanation needed)
2.  Starbucks doesn't open until 5:30...I meander to its door by 5:24 and decide waiting for caffeine for a full six minutes is a bit below my dignity so I continue on.  Bad choice.
3.  Arrive at work, boss S. has overslept and his alarm (blaring beeping effing alarm) goes off at ten minutes to six, waking up not only him but also, hi, your baby.  Who usually sleeps until 7:30.  Every day.  But don't worry, boss S. is already in the shower by the time my buddy is having a full-blown breakdown and I rescue him from his crib and resign us both to a cranky, overtired day.
4.  Walk to sign language class in driving rain (The stroller has a rain cover.  I am not so lucky.).
5.  At the jewelery store where Alix and I got our rings, I arrive breathless and drenched just in time for my appointment to have my ring resized, because, hi, apparently losing weight makes your fingers smaller.  In the process of digging said ring out of my wet backpack, I manage to drop it.  Oh wait, let me clarify.  I did not just "drop" my ring.  No, no, I managed to fling it ten feet away from me under the prissy couch they keep by the elevators for people to rest on.  Concierge and floor staff politely avert their gaze as I scoot under the couch to retrieve it - yes, my lovely rumpus was stickin' high up in the air as I dug around for the most valuable thing I've ever owned.  (The resizing actually went well.  I get my ring back tomorrow at 2 PM.)
6.  Rush home to take Rupert out before going to the gym.  During the process of exiting the building, the rain-soaked door handle slipped from my hand and the door manages to partly close - and latch! - on my poor puppy's foot.  The following scene ensues: Rupert is yelping, literally screaming in pain and fear, as I desperately push on the door and after realizing it's locked itself, fumble in my pocket for my keys.  My hands are shaking as I try and try to unlock the door while Rupert is still yelping.  Two kind women have stopped to help me and we finally free him and I manage to grab his leash before he runs, terrified, into the street.  I sink to the soaked sidewalk, already crying, and cradle Rupert for a good five minutes to make sure his paw is fine (it is).  Nice woman #2 stays with me for a couple of minutes reassuring me that he is fine.  I called my mom and proceeded to bawl to her about what a bad doggie mom I am while Rupert and I walk around the block.  She, of course, knows exactly what to say to make me feel better and tells me to take deep breaths until I stop crying.

Good things!  Here you go: the gym was good, it made me feel much better.  Also, I have tomorrow off from work so I can do laundry and take care of Alix after she has mouth surgery.  And I can go to the gym and sleep in and clean the bathroom and ohmygoodness I'm so excited.  I hope everyone else had a better day than me!

My poor baby.  Back when he was a baby!  Wook at that wittle face!

Just when you think the job sucks...

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

Oh and guess who had a babysitter show up at 7:30 PM tonight?  Wham bam, thank you ma'am.

Mmm...deliciousness

Alright everyone.  Followers 5, 6, and 7 will receive treats since I don't know which order you added yourself.  That means that Sarah gets something delicious, as do UD and KS.  Now I need your addresses people!  And thanks for the love.  It makes me feel, well, loved.

Today's schedule:
1.  Woke up at 9:30
2.  Walked dog and got dressed for gym
3.  Went to gym at 10:30, did spinning from 11-11:45 and then cardio from 12-12:45
4.  Home (desperately want nap)
5.  Shower
6.  Eat smoothie
7.  Work 2-8
8.  Clean apartment (A hurricane hit it.  I'm not kidding.  Like class 12122891082109)
9.  BED

Follow Meeeeeee

...Follow me, follow meeeeee...etc (Eric Prydz anyone?  Oh shit, that's Call on Me, not Follow Me.  Whoops.)  Anyway.  Thanks to a (desperate...ahem) email to some friends and family, I now have FOUR followers.  If you become magical follower number five, I will send you a present.  I am serious about this.  I make amazing baked goods and I work in a world-famous bakery.  I also can get pretty damn creative with a hot-glue gun.  So, if you become follower number five, email me your address and you will get something awesome in the mail.  Wanna know how to email me?  Pssst...look up at the "Contact Me" link. Okay?  Okay.

Updates and Pictures

So, after yesterday's dramatic post, it seems natural to update you all on how today went.  Needless to say, I was extremely nervous about having to have any sort of confrontational conversation with my boss (I HATE confrontation.  I go all wobbly and say things like, "Well I was kinda wondering if we could, like, work on this together..."  Yeah.  Not so effective.)  So after a bolstering conversation with my darling sister, and several imaginary practice scenarios in my head (Okay fine, I said them out loud but no one heard me except for Monkey!  And he doesn't care!  He was busy, I promise.), I felt ready.  It's not professional for me to hash out the details here, but my boss and I did, in fact, discuss both last night and the larger issue.  I suggested they find back-up babysitter(s) to come at 8 PM when I'm supposed to leave.  I've decided to keep track for the next month every time I get out late and by how long, every time I am asked to change my schedule, and every uncomfortable situation I am put in by their requests.  Then, in a month's time, I will reassess how I feel about the situation and go from there.  I now feel like after today's conversation, if things do not improve, I'm in a position to make some serious negotiations or ultimatums but I'm not sure what those will be yet.

In other news...I now wear a size 4?  Since when?  But only at the Gap, and we all know they size big.  But still.  It makes me feel good, and lord knows I need some of that around here.  What doesn't feel so good is dropping sixty-two big ones to get them but oh well.  At least I can wash my other pants now.

And last of all, since this is a dreary post, here are some of my favorite pictures of all time.  None of them have anything to do with this post but enjoy them anyway.

I saw this tree on a hiking trip when I lived in Kentucky and thought it was beautiful.

Tucker enjoyed using my laptop cover as a bed during our secret years at college together.

Alix and I went hiking in the Smoky Mountains last spring break.

This picture makes me cry, to see my parents so proud of me.  Seriously, I tear up every. single. time.

Now I'm no photographer, but that's pretty cool, isn't it?

Back when Rupert was allowed on the bed.

My most recent birthday flowers

Needed: A Babysitter and Some Tissues

Okay so posting more than once a day is kinda lame, I get that, but I seriously need some help here guys.  Here's the situation:
1.  My hours of availability are from 6 AM to 8 PM.  This is part of my contract and thus unchangeable, and yes, I often work all 14 hours of those available.  Today was one of those days.
2.  My boss, C. just called to tell me that my other boss, S. just scrubbed into emergency surgery and won't be out until 9:30 or 10:00.  She then asks me if I want her to find a babysitter or can I stay that late?  I feel brave, grow a pair, and say, no, I can't stay, find a babysitter.  She says okay, she'll call me back soon.
3.  I wait ten minutes.  Boss C. calls again to say that a surgeon friend will take over when S. is done so that he will be home by 9.  "Is that okay?" she asks.  This is clearly a rhetorical question.  THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I CAN DO EXCEPT STAY UNTIL 9.  BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE BABYSITTERS.  THEY HAVE ME.
4.  I work seven days a week.  I work, on average, 60-70 hours a week.  If I want overtime from this nanny job, it should be a question that I can answer yes or no to, not one where there is no room for an answer because the question isn't even asked.
5.  I called Alix, in tears, to tell her that once again, I won't see her basically at all today because as soon as I get home I will need to go to bed.  No dinner, no shower, nothing.  Just bed.  So that I can wake up at 4:15 tomorrow morning and come to work again.

Please, please help me figure out what to say to them to fix this situation.  When I renew my contract in July (IF I renew my contract...) I am changing my hours of availability to end at 7 PM, no exceptions.  But until then, what do I say to make things change?  I'm still sitting here crying, wondering why I/my parents/my school paid so much money for me to go there to get a degree so that I can do this for a living: sit, crying, waiting for bosses to arrive home and set me free.

Leggings, Schmeggings

I used to shun the idea of wearing leggings as a form of pants.  Bwahahaha, I'd laugh at people who wore them, thinking how stupid they looked.  And then, alas, I bought a few pairs, found some outfits to go with them and realized that they are the most comfortable things in the entire world.  Feel free to laugh at me for eating my words so thoroughly.  Anyway, the point being, today as I went to get dressed, I was at a loss.  My one pair of pants that fit (and aren't ripped) are in the laundry basket and I am banned from pulling them out to wear them again (I have been known, on more than one occasion to do this).  So, it was either leggings or one of my ridiculously baggy pairs of jeans that I was left to decide between.  I chose leggings.  Problem was, it was a balmy 22 degrees out this morning.  So what did I do?  I got creative: I'm wearing tights AND leggings.  Yup.  With boots on, I look fine.  With my boots off...well, that's a different story.  All fine and dandy until I realized that since today is my sign language class with Monkey, where we are all required to go shoe-less, everyone and their mother will see my fashion ingenuity (i.e., weirdness).  How fun.  Anyone care to describe their best/worst fashion faux pas so I don't feel so bad?

At least they're both black, right?  Right????

Editor's Note: Monkey and I did not wind up going to class today.  He's switching from two naps a day to one and it kinda cramps our style when it comes to going to a class (get it? style? ohhh I crack myself up) that's in the early afternoon.  So no one other than my boss and Alix and Monkey will witness the tights plus leggings combination.  Phew.  That is, unless I get in some horrific accident on the way home and the ambulance people take off my boots.   Noooo!

A Hairy Situation

Scene: My buddy and I are walking home from Starbucks (ahhh the caffeine addiction!) on this gorgeous, spring-like day.  He is content in his trusty sling and I am content hefting him around, sipping away at my coffee.  We pass by a mother and her five-year-old daughter.  We smile conspiratorially at each other, silently acknowledging the cuteness of each other's children.

Mom (to daughter): Isn't that a cute little baby, sweetie?
Little girl: Uh huh!
Mom: You know, I used to carry you around like that when you were little too.  You loved being all snuggled up against me.
Little girl: Yes...(pause for dramatic effect)...but I had much more hair.

I burst out laughing.  I couldn't help it!  What a precocious kid.  As if she could remember how much hair she had as a one-year-old, but by golly, she knew it was more than THAT.  My poor monkey.  He has hair!  It's just very wispy and short, as all blondies are.  Not once has anyone thought I was his nanny as opposed to his mother because we look so much alike, right down to our wispy blonde hair.  In fact, one time, some woman stopped me to ask if I would like to hire her as a nanny for my baby.  Not only was this a supremely weird question ("Why yes, I am looking for a nanny!  The street is a perfect place to meet one.  Start this Monday, 6 AM."), but it made me wildly uncomfortable and forced me to respond, "Um, well, actually I am his nanny."  Yeah.  Definitely awkward.  Or the time when the subway was delayed between stops and Alix and I got to talking to this very nice man who could tell we were a couple and who then assumed that the baby I was holding was ours.
"So, how did you guys go about getting pregnant?" he boldly asked.  "My sister is trying to figure it out with her partner right now, so...?"
"Uhhh....well...." <-- aren't we eloquent????
Then the train started moving and the conversation did too and we were saved from having to explain why we had a baby that wasn't ours.  Thank heavens.

Long rambling post short: my buddy will grow hair when he pleases, thankyouverymuch.  Until then, he's still cuter than a baby hedgehog (and they're pretty darn cute).

The Good, The Bad, and the Overly Caffeinated

I am extremely hyped-up on coffee right now. (I thought I had kicked my college addiction but it's back.)  This post will be in bullet form since my brain feels like it needs some Ritalin in order to function at a more coherent pace.

• I hesitate to write anything negative about my job here but I will keep it short and sweet and say nothing that I wouldn't say (or haven't already said) to my bosses' face(s):
• On Saturday night, my boss called to try to change my schedule for this coming week, asking me to give up my day off on Monday when Alix and I had planned to visit another wedding venue.  I apologized and said that no, I couldn't work that day.  She was more than a little annoyed and made no effort to hide it.  Then, she changed my schedule for the rest of the week so that I have to wake up at 4:15 every day now.  Fun.
• My other boss just called me to tell me that he will be half an hour late home tonight....again.  I have not gotten out on time in the past month.  The cab fare that I am given on these nights to compensate for staying late isn't enough to cover the cab fare home.  My solution to this problem is now to politely refuse money at the time, and explain that I will simply save the receipts from all of the cab rides and the total can be added to my pay check at the end of the week.  Sounds good, right?
• Anyway, in other news, Alix and I found a wedding venue!  The place we looked at on Monday is absolutely, unbelievably perfect.  It is exactly the kind of place we envisioned our wedding taking place and the reality of having a venue is making it so much easier to have fun imagining planning the rest of our wedding.  The location is gorgeous and more importantly, the people who will be helping us along the way are wonderful.  We require extensive amounts of hand-holding since we are such wedding know-nothings and they provide exactly that service.  They're also gay, and very much in love, and specialize in gay weddings.  All good things.  We no longer have to worry about any negative or awkward reactions from people because every vendor that these people work with choose to work for a couple that basically run a same-sex wedding business.  This removes a huge source of stress for us and the relief itself is worth every penny we will spend.
• We now have a date, a venue, and a tentative guest list for said wedding.  Scary to have so many plans in place!  The reality is sinking in that not only are we going to be married, but we are having a wedding.  A real one.  In a state where it's legal (Connecticut).  With a license and name changes and joint checking accounts and everything.  Holy shit.
• I have one pair of pants that fit.  I had two, but I tripped on a broken escalator in front of hundreds of people and ripped one of the legs of my jeans so bad that they're essentially unwearable.  It doesn't look chic in that expensively-ripped-jean kind of way, either.  It looks like I tripped and ripped my pants.  So, I have one other pair of pants and you can imagine how dirty they are since I take care of an 11-month-old all day.  I think I need to buy more pants, slash, wash these ones.
• I love the gym.  I feel at peace there because I can stop thinking about the worries buzzing around my brain all day.  It calms me down and the endorphins make me happier and more sane.  Alix and I took to spinning so much that we bought spin shoes.  So worth it!  We feel hard-core and legit, not to mention our workouts have suddenly become way more effective with the correct gear.

Whew.  I think that's it for now.  Any adoring and congratulatory comments on finding a wedding venue are greatly appreciated :-)  I love how many more comments I've been getting lately!  Keep it up everyone.  You have no idea how happy it makes me.