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.

Weakness from within

Weltschmerz (from the German, meaning world-pain or world-weariness, pronounced [ˈvɛltʃmɛɐ̯ts]) is a term coined by the German author Jean Paul and denotes the kind of feeling experienced by someone who understands that physical reality can never satisfy the demands of the mind...It is also used to denote the feeling of sadness when thinking about the evils of the world...The modern meaning of Weltschmerz in the German language is the psychological pain caused by sadness that can occur when realizing that someone's own weaknesses are caused by the inappropriateness and cruelty of the world and (physical and social) circumstances. Weltschmerz in this meaning can cause depression, resignation and escapism. 

Thank you, Wikipedia, for explaining my mental state so succinctly.  Except for the part where I think my own weaknesses also come from within.  Doesn't everyone?

P.S. A friend and I decided tonight that in a perfect world, we'd be able to have someone with us all the time who was all these things rolled into one: a nutritionist, a therapist, a psychiatrist, a friend, and a personal trainer.  Oh and who is covered by all health insurance plans.  Sound good to anyone else?

Straight as a Crooked Line

Is it as delightfully funny to anyone else that I have not one, but TWO ex-boyfriends with birthdays today?  I know, I know, you're probably like, "Wait...did she just say boyfriends?"  I did, in fact.  Prior to Smith, I was a card-carrying member of the heterosexual club (those heteros don't have nearly as much fun, by the way).  Anyway, everyone's got a story and here's mine:

When I got to college, I was known to loudly proclaim to anyone and everyone that I was straight, straight, straight.  My older housemates laughed in my face and told me, quite plainly, that they gave me until spring to realize I was gay.  The signs were there long before Smith: I had a massive crush on that girl from Stick It (Missy Peregrym) and I had once kissed a girl (and yes, I liked it) but that is a story for another time.  I met my first girlfriend in the winter of my first year of school and we were quickly inseparable.  All the U-Haul jokes and lesbian cliches applied to us.  We naively believed it would last forever, despite the huge gaping holes of communication and maturity in our relationship.  The tumult of our relationship finally ended in the fall of my junior year, three weeks after the worst time of my life (another story for another time).  At that point, I had embraced the fact that I wasn't "straight" after all, but since I was lucky enough to be at a place like Smith where "labels are for jars, not people," I didn't have to call myself gay either.  Because truthfully, I didn't feel like either one.  I still liked boys, I thought they were cute and could be funny and likable.  But I felt the same way about girls.  And I HATE the word bisexual.  I think it should be eliminated from the dictionary.  Do not ever call me that.  EVER.  Anyway, life at Smith continued and relationships came and went - none of them serious, all of them with other girls.  And then, I met Alix.

Alix and I met at a lesbian dive bar in the West Village.  We were both there purely by chance, happened to lock eyes across the dance floor, and I was amused by the worst pickup line I've ever heard (I'll spare her the embarrassment by not printing it here).  So we started dancing and talking and realized, quite truthfully, by the end of even such a raucous night that we were meant for each other.  The weekend we spent together only solidified the fact and it was from that moment on that we knew we'd be together forever.  Neither one of us has ever looked back and despite our differences in self-definition - Alix identifies as gay, while I choose to more loosely define myself as "gay for her" - our relationship is as solid as a rock.

I guess my point in telling this whole story is to illuminate the fact that there are a million different ways to be right for someone and not all of them - or hardly any of them - fall neatly into some pre-labeled category.  Alix and I work together because we talk about anything to each other, she knows the worst and best parts of me, we fight and make up before going to sleep, and we work hard, every single day, to make each other happy.  THAT is what makes a relationship work.  Not a definition, a label, or a category.  Is it easy all the time?  Hell no.  But is it worth it?  Unquestionably yes.