Models

I may have made my boss out to be a little crazy in my post about the interview, but I swear, he is a really great guy.  And, his crazy thing with the meat?  Those were mostly just orders passed down from Frank.

So, when, Phillipe asked me on my second day if I would be willing to work a special event, I immediately said yes.  He told me that the night before he received a phone called from GM China, asking him for drivers for Fashion Week.  Uh oh, I was beginning to regret my uncontrolled eagerness to work.  Before I could take it back, I was slated to work for the weekend as a driver for a Chinese model, taking her to fittings, shows, and castings, here, there, and everywhere.

As we zipped to New Jersey in yet another sparkling new car, Phillipe took the time to ask me how well I knew my way around the city.  I hesitated, afraid of showing what I newbie I was in town.  He took the silence to continue his question with, "well, how well do you know Soho?  If I gave you an address downtown, could you drive me there?"

I could feel the sweat beading up along my hairline.

Then I had a bizarre out of body experience as the words came out of my mouth ...

I said, "well, fake it 'til you make it, right?"

Oh, no.  If it wasn't enough with the lying, the anorexia or the fact that I'm just an unnecessary employee at this time, that line surely just got me fired.  Phillipe is going to kick me out of the car right now.

Phillipe laughed.  Oh, thank goodness.

His response: "yes, I guess you're right.  And there is navigation in the car.  Use it."

Yes, sir.

Friday night, at around 10 pm, I received an email, saying my call time would be 8 am the next morning.  It would be early, but that wasn't what I freaked out about.  I didn't have a copy of the schedule!  I was told I would be given the schedule the night before.  I had every intention of studying the addresses and times, knowing which lefts and rights to take, which streets to take in which direction and which to avoid.  This was all part of my grand "fake it 'til you make it" plan!  Phillipe sent me a text saying, "your model will give you the schedule tomorrow.  Good luck!  And try not to cry."  Oh, no.

Phillipe had warned me I would cry on my first day, but I thought my plan ahead and study secret would keep the tears at bay.  Now, I was not so sure.

I arrived at the garage a little after 7 am and arrived to the model's apartment in plenty of time in my awesome Cadillac CTS.  Can you say suede steering wheel?

When I called her at ten-to-eight to tell her I was downstairs, I woke her up.  Look at me, already failing!  She told me in broken English that she didn't need me until 9.  Well, luckily I brought a book to read and there was a parking space nearby.

When my model got into the car at around 9:30 she had a videographer with her.  I asked her where we were going, and her response, "oh, you don't have szchedure?"  And, look at me failing again!  She found the email on one of her three iPhones, showed me the address, and we were off.  Well, first I entered it into my telephone's googlemaps, but then we were off.

While stopped at one of the lights, she emailed the szchedure to me, and we made it to her first appearance without a hitch.

I spent the next 14 hours learning to drive in NYC.  I learned how to keep up with cabs, how to pass cabs, how to park illegally, and how to trick the traffic police into thinking you aren't parked illegally, by simply driving around the block.

I saw Anna Wintour!  (Editor-in-Chief of Vogue)

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And, I didn't read very much of my terrible book.

At around midnight I finally made it to a bar to meet up with Liz, McKenzie and Jen.  When I explained to them what I had spent the day doing, they all laughed.  Yup, I'm a cabbie, I just have a much cooler ride.

Jen then asked me who I had driven around all day.  As I started to say her name, Sui... Jen interrupted me.  "Sui He?!  No way!  She is super famous!  She was on the cover of the Ralph Lauren look book last season!"  Well, shows you what I know about fashion.

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Jen asked me if she could come along for the ride the next day, but I knew she wouldn't be up for my early morning call time.  I headed home, just in time to not get my schedule for the next day again.  I would be back to fakin' it.

... And I'm back.

Holy moly, that illness knocked me out!

Last Tuesday I had the pleasure of spending the day in New Jersey with little Hannah and Adelaide.  We had a great day of cookie- making (yay for owning an oven!) and monster- playing.  Unfortunately, by the time my delayed two hour commute back to the city came to a close, I felt like death.  Addie's adorable snotty nose, was less than cute on me.

And, by the next morning, I was far from the "happy wheezer" that her doctor had named her.

Yup, I think Addie got me sick.

And, this was no normal head cold.  Instead, I was knocked out cold.  It took every ounce of energy for me to walk to the kitchen and refill my water bottle.  I was so sick that I couldn't even read.  In the middle of The Hunger Games Trilogy, and I couldn't force myself to read!  My computer wasn't turned on for days.  I just couldn't bear the thought of sitting at my desk, or focusing long enough to wait for it to turn on.

I had dreams of living the crazy, single 24- year- old life while Erin was home in Saratoga, but I did far from that.  I spent the week sweating through my pajamas, hoping my fever would break and the hot flashes and chills would end.

By Sunday afternoon I was beginning to feel a bit better.  Monday I slept until noon.  But, today, I am getting back on track.  I still carry a wad of tissues with me wherever I go, but my pants don't have an elastic waistband, and I have already left the apartment today.  Yay for progress!

Oh, and in my week of illness, I lost 10 pounds, so I guess that's a plus.  I was hoping to drop a few ell- bees before the wedding!

More posts to come soon.  But sorry, Stephen, this is as gross and gruesome as it gets!

tkts

It's a beautiful sunny morning in NYC!

Heather arrived yesterday and Erin left this morning... Woo hoo!

Now, I'm off duty for the week and enjoying the long weekend with Heather.

We are currently standing in the tkts line with our fingers crossed for tickets to the matinee of How to Succeed in Business.

It's a long line, so I am loving the blogger app!

Lucky you, lucky me!

I have great news for all my loyal readers! I now have the Blogger app on my telephone, which means so many great things!

This means that while I was waiting for my interview this afternoon I was able to blog while drinking my tea. This means that while I was waiting for Erin to finish at ballet I was blogging. This means that as I sit on the living room and Erin is on my computer, I will be able to blog.

This means that you should have so much more to read!

For me, it means that I will have so much more to edit, because my thumbs are a little large for this tiny virtual keyboard. It also means that I will probably significantly increase my chances of getting carpal tunnel, but you're worth the risk!

But most importantly, this means that while I sit in this subway car, with a very stinky homeless man seated across from me, even though I may be unable to breathe, I am blogging away!

Wipeout!

I was prepared to write a post about how running helps with my blogging, but something much funnier happened, and I couldn't not write about it.

I wiped out while I was running.

While I was running really fast and thinking really hard about my blog, I fell! Okay, there I go lying again. I was thinking really hard, but I definitely wasn't running very fast. I was actually running so slowly that I tripped over a cobblestone. And there is a very good chance I was lip syncing to my pop music, but I can't imagine that is the reason I tripped. I blame the cobblestone. It was an exceptionally high and out of place cobblestone, but a cobblestone nonetheless.

As I fell, scraping both of my knees and hands, I made the most embarrassing sound possible. There was an adorable couple drinking coffee and watching as I tumbled to the ground and made a low, throaty "oowh ho ho ho ho ho!" It was a bizarre combination of an "ow!" and a chuckle, but I think I sounded more like a drugged up Santa Claus.

I knew the cute and fit couple with their warm beverages had just witnessed the entire event, so I picked my Santa butt up off the ground and kept running.

Gosh, and I thought my knee was hurting before! "Oow ho ho ho!"

I'm a liar. And I'm anorexic.

Philippe had told me that things were slow at the moment, but he would be in touch with me towards the end of the month, when the shipment of cars from GM arrived.

The evening I arrived home from my interview I wrote a thank- you note and mailed it immediately.

Exactly one week later Philippe called.  With work!  Oh, the magic of the thank- you note.

Sure enough, things had gotten busier than expected, and he needed me to work on Thursday.  Of course the jig was up with pretending to be busy, and I instantly told him I would love to work!  He told me my thank- you note was very nice, and he would pick me up on the corner of FDR and Houston the next morning just after 8 am.

The next morning I walked up to Houston, and stood on the corner and waiting to be picked up like a, well, you know.  Philippe pulled up, honked his horn, unlocked the doors, I jumped in and we peeled out.  Hey, it isn't the best pickup location, but it seemed better than the meat market.

On Thursday I drove to Philadelphia with another driver, where I picked up a car to bring back to New York City.  Two hours of driving a brand new car and playing with XM radio?  Like I have said before, this job could work for me.  On Thursday I drove a Cadillac SRX to Philadelphia and a Buick Enclave back.

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Before I left the office on Thursday Philippe had mentioned that Uncle Bill would be getting a Chevy Volt on Friday.  He was going to try to get me on that assignment, but couldn't promise me anything.

So, Friday morning I was picked up on the corner of Houston and FDR and told that sure enough, I would be headed to Ridgefield.  I drove a 2013 Chevy Malibu, the first one on the road, thank-you-very-much, to Ridgefield, while the Chevy Volt followed.

I arrived at Uncle Bill's where he and I chatted a bit and I got a tour of the home improvements.  Yes, it has been that long since I have been to Ridgefield.

Uncle Bill offered me food and drinks, but I was was not hungry or thirsty.  While we were in the kitchen Uncle Bill mentioned that the ex owner of the company, Frank, had lent him a variety of cars over the years.  Of course!

Does anyone remember the family reunion that Uncle Bill rolled up to in a brand new Escalade?  While my parents didn't know what kind of car it was, they knew it was fancy.  I knew exactly what it was, and I knew that Uncle Bill, the serial owner of Dodge Grand Caravans, was not the owner.  Uncle Bill said that a friend of his let him borrow it.  I now work for that friend.  Standing in the Ridgefield kitchen, it all made sense.

Within a half hour the Chevy Volt arrived.  We went outside and Ted gave Uncle Bill a brief rundown.  He explained the gauges and monitors and cords and plugs.  Before long Ted and I were back in the Malibu and headed back to the office.

When we arrived back to Montvale, Evan was walking out of the office as I was walking in.  In passing he said, "I'm going to go get some pizza, do you want any?"  I said no thank you, and kept walking.  It was right around 1 pm, and I assumed I was going to be sent right back to the city in a car and I would be home to eat lunch with Chip and Erin.  When I got back into the office Phillipe asked if I had ordered lunch with Evan.  Hold on, what?  That was the lunch run?  We are all going to sit and eat lunch together?  Shoot.

I responded.  And as soon as I did, I completely regretted it.

I said, "Oh no, I already ate at my uncle's."

Darn.  Why did I just lie?  I never lie!  Now what?

Philippe said, "Lucky you!  What did you have?"

... starting to sweat.... hating to lie... too late to take it back now... digging myself deeper

"A sandwich."
"Was it good?"
"Yes.  Delicious."

Okay, That was it.  A little white lie.  I am going to be fine.  Phew.

Then, Philippe said something I couldn't have ever prepared for.

"Oh my god!  Why didn't he send any to me?  Next time I talk to him, I'm going to give him crap."

Oh.  My.  Goodness.  What have I gotten myself into?  Not only did I just lie to my boss on my second day of work, but I got my uncle involved as well!  And, now if this does get figured out, I look twice as bad.  Not only am I a liar, but I don't eat!  I didn't eat the doughnuts.  I didn't eat the babka.  I didn't eat pizza.  And, I didn't even eat the fabricated sandwich!

I'm a liar.  And I'm anorexic.

Every Job Must Begin With An Interview

Every job must begin with an interview, and my job was no exception.  My job, however, began with -hands down- the most ridiculous interview ever.

About three weeks ago Uncle Bill put me in touch with a friend of his that does marketing for GM.  I called the guy, per his request.  He immediately told me he was interested in meeting me and asked if I would be available the following Wednesday to come to the office.  I checked my nonexistent schedule and told him I would be delighted.  He promised to call on Tuesday to firm up the details.

Just as he promised, Phillipe, as we will call him, rang me on Tuesday afternoon.  I was walking to get a late lunch with Nicole, who was in town for the Knicks game.  He asked if I was still available to go to the office and I answered yes, without even pretending to check my appointment book.  He asked me to meet him at the East Village Meat Market between 7:45 and 8 am.  I repeated his instructions aloud, to help me remember, said goodbye, thanked him, and put my telephone back in my pocket.  I quickly wrote a note for myself with the time and location.

The next morning I woke up over an hour before my alarm, thrilled to have the opportunity for an interview.  I showered, dressed professionally, ate breakfast and headed out the door.  I planned to walk to our meeting place.  According to Google Maps it would take me less than 30 minutes, but I left just after 7.  With heels and nerves, I wasn't sure how long the trip would take, and I definitely didn't want to be late.  I arrived at the corner of 9th and 2nd to find that the meat market wasn't on the corner.  I had assumed it would be, thinking Phillipe would simply be driving by, and pick me up.  I stood in front of the meat market, noticing it was open, and waited.

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About ten minutes later a small black Buick parked across the street from me and Phillipe got out of the car.  We shook hands and I followed him into the meat market.  What?

Phillipe shook hands with the men behind the counter who immediately realized what they had forgotten.  In his thick Polish accent the owner said, "Oh no!  I forgot!  I saw the girl standing out front, and I forgot what I was supposed to be doing!"  Phillipe answered, "you sat there checking out the girl I'm interviewing and forgot my meat?  Okay, okay, but please hurry.  I need to get this to Frank."

Seriously, what had I gotten myself into?  An early morning run to the meat market?  Being checked out my the Polish meat man?  Were heels too much for this interview?

Phillipe turned to me, apologized and asked if I smoked, he was going to go outside for a cigarette.  I politely declined, but immediately regretted it.  For the first time in my life I had the urge to smoke.  I wanted a cigarette to take the edge off.  That's what they are said to do, right?

I waited in the meat market, watching the Polish men slice unidentifiable meat after unidentifiable meat.  Phillipe came back in and began barking orders.

"Oh, come on!  We are going to need more than that."

"Don't hold back on me."

"That's not enough!"

"Half a pound?!  No way!  Give me at least two pounds!"

There was definite sarcasm in his voice, which gave me hope, but what was so special about this meat?

Then came the sausages.

Racks and racks of sausages were picked through before Phillipe committed to the perfect sausages.

Phillipe asked me for help with the bread, but quickly decided on whole grain, sourdough and olive loaves on his own.  Phillipe eyed the doughnuts in the corner and asked if I wanted one.  I could tell it was oozing with something fruity and said "no thank you."  He tried to get one for me, but with the smell of meat and cigarettes, I couldn't even imagine trying to eat a doughnut.  I declined again.  The owner threw a free babka into one of the bags.

As each cut of meat was punched into the manual register, the bags were filled and double bagged.  When the total rang $367 Phillipe quickly turned over his American Express.  The Polish man looked at the card, and told him that they couldn't accept it- only Visa or MasterCard.  Phillipe sarcastically criticized him, telling him he was too cheap to pay the fees, but found another credit card.  Within seconds we were out the door, with our bags of meat and about 12 feet of sausages.

We put the meat in the trunk, jumped in the car and raced to New Jersey.

On the trip to New Jersey Phillipe explained the meat.  Thank goodness!

The company has a very good relationship with Consumer Reports, and about every six months they bring them lunch.  The East Village Meat Market is known to have the best Polish meats in the city, and the people at Consumer Reports love it.

Okay, I was feeling a little bit better.  I was beginning to think this "small office" I was headed to was filled with Fred Flinstone- types, prepared to chow down on the massive piece of ham on the bone that was sitting in the trunk, without using silverware.

We arrived at the office, popped the trunk, and did the trade-off, putting the nearly $400 worth of meat in the next trunk.  Frank walked out of the office, looking disheveled.  His belt was twisted, his pants were falling down a little, and his shirt was wrinkled, but he was nice.  He shook my hand, got into his car and headed to Consumer Reports for a feast.

Phillipe and I went into the office.  He and Evan are the two owners of the company, and the only ones in the office.  The two recently purchased the company from Frank, but as far as I could see, Frank is still around.  Phillipe took out his doughnut and babka, sharing with Evan, and offering me some again.  Evan then offered me orange juice.

I sat there with my orange juice, the two of them with Polish baked goods, and we talked about work.  Within minutes, they were making copies of my license, and I was hired.

I am now a part- time driver.  I bring cars to and from various journalists and reporters throughout the northeast, with hopes of working my way up the ranks of the car industry.  My first day on the job I was able to drive the brand new Buick Verano!

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As a girl that LOVES cars, this could work for me!  Thanks, Uncle Bill!

You know you have been driving too much when...

You know you have been driving too much when you hear a sound from behind, and glance to your lower left corner, towards the sideview mirror .... while walking down the street on the sidewalk.

I have been driving A LOT lately.  And, boy oh boy do I have stories for you.  My pedestrian attempt at looking in the sideview mirror is only the beginning.  Get ready!

Just What I Needed!

Everything has been bugging me.  My headphones won't stay in my ears.  The wind blows my hair everywhere.  As soon as I do the dishes my hands are completely dried out.  I reapply lotion, and then I have gross lotion-y hands.  My nose keeps running.  Erin has been sniffling.  Erin's new backpack is still sitting on the dining room table.  Erin didn't do her dishes last night.

Oh, I could go on.

But, the point is, everything under the sun is bugging me.  Heck, even the sun is bugging me.  Whether it's too sunny or it isn't sunny enough, it's bugging me.  But, I am aware that I am the problem.  A sunny day?  Having to put lotion on my hands?  Come on, I'm the problem here.

I have spent way too much time in front of my computer looking for a new website I haven't already scoured for jobs.  I have spent way too much time in a small apartment.  I have spent way too much time not having adult conversations and interactions.  And, I have spent way too much time with my sister.

The phone call I just received was exactly what I needed!

Last week I went to a job interview, thanks to Uncle Bill.  The owner of the company was more than kind and told me that things are a bit slow at the moment, but he would be in touch with me towards the end of the month for some part-time opportunities.  I was thrilled!

About forty- five minutes ago, he called me, and surprise!  He needs me tomorrow!  Woo hoo!

Tomorrow morning at 8 am I have a place to be!  I have something to do!  And the icing on the cake.... I am going to make money!

Just what I needed.

Oh, and while we were on the telephone, he said he received my thank- you note, it was very kind, and he appreciated it.  A handwritten thank- you note works magic!

Am I the strange one?

"You're so weird."

It is one of Erin's favorite remarks these days, but could she be right?  Oh, no.  That would be ridiculous.

But, when she used it the last time, it made me think.

The two of us were walking home after ballet.  We were having a debate over which book I was reading when we took our vacation to Tupper Lake back in 2006.  I was convinced it was Harry Potter, but Erin knew it was Twilight.  She was thinking about that vacation and had remembered our canoe trip, where I made her read the book to me as I paddled.

As we were walking into the apartment building I said, "I really want to read Twilight again."

That's when she said, "you're so weird."

"Why?  Because I want to read Twilight for a second time?  I really want to read them again because now that I know how it ends, I want to start from the beginning and read them more thoroughly."

"No.  Because you read soooooo much.  That's weird."

Erin's right, I do read a lot.  Since we have lived in this apartment I have read three books.  I have had a lot of time on my hands, but I have read three books nonetheless.

The first thing I thought to myself was, I'm not that weird, my mom reads a lot too.  Well, as we have already established, I am exactly like my mother, so that probably isn't the best gauge of weirdness.

Three books in two weeks is a lot, even for me, but I love it.  I have a Kindle and the Kindle app on my telephone (this is one of the times when I adore technology!).  I have also read a paperback that I brought to the city with me.  After I pick Erin up from ballet I stand waiting for the train, reading my book.  I read it while we are on the train.  I read it on the couch.  I read before I go to sleep.  And plenty of times I read while I eat breakfast.  Is that strange?

Erin happens to strongly dislike reading, so her opinion is a bit biased, but am I the strange one?

Do you like reading?  Or am I one of the few weird ones left that enjoys reading books?

The Super Bowl Top 10

I'll be honest and I say that I don't really love football.  And the only reason I tweeted about the Giants winning last night was because it was really fun to see NYC, the entire city, light up with happiness!  People were screaming, shouting, high- fiving and cheers-ing.  The streets hummed with happiness.

I spent the evening at my friends', Jen and McKenzie's, apartment.  And for the first time, I watched the entire game.  All of it.

It was a really exciting game!  And as much as we were all hoping the Giants would win, in those last 57 seconds, we were almost hoping the Patriots would pull through- simply because it was so exciting.

Okay, now that I have pretended to actually know anything about last night's game, let me get back to what I do know: the commercials.  Was anyone else completely sick of the apocalypse- like advertisements and movie trailers?  I get it, it's 2012, but please stop.  Zombies?  Vampires?  Explosions? End of the world?  No, thank you.  Puppies?  Yes, please.  So without further ado, here is one of my top 10 commercials.

The Volkswagen Commercial

I love watching the dog work out, just to chase the new bug.  Adorable.  But, why did they have to add the bizarre bar scene at the end?  I understand the cross- advertising for the re- released Star Wars, but I didn't like it.  I just like the dog.  And the music.  Oh, and his eyes remind me of Tupper when he watches the food fall on the floor.

The Hyundai Commercial

Well, done Hyundai.

The Bud Light/ Rescue Dog Commercial

Weego.  He's cute.  And, Paul was always trying to teach Malee this trick, so I like it a lot.

The Acura NSX Commercial

Jerry Seinfeld did well.  This is the extended version, so it includes a few extras that weren't played during the game.  And Jay Leno?  Holy smokes, he made a fortune for this game!  He was all over the place!  Oh, and I want zip lines all over the city.

The Toyota Camry Commercial

Reinvented?  Great idea!  The reinvented couch?  Uncomfortable, but great idea.  The reinvented DMV?  I want to go!  The reinvented rain?  I wish...

The Sketchers Commercial

Okay, another dog commercial.  But, look at his face!  So cute.  And, I just LOVE the fact that Kim Kardashian was the spokesperson for last year's Sketchers commercial, but she was replaced by a dog.  Oh, Mr. Quiggly.

The Samsung Galaxy Note Commercial

As much as I love Apple products, I do love the jabs that Samsung makes.  "This feels like detention." "I don't know what I believe in anymore."  "FREEDOM!"  "Well, that was over the top."  Yes, it was a bit over the top, but I enjoyed it.  

The Budweiser Eternal Optimism Commercial

I thought this commercial was very fun.  But, mostly it reminded me of one of my all- time favorite Britney Spears commercials for Pepsi, so that's probably why I like it so much.... Whoops.

And, I'll throw in the old school Britney commercial.  Just because this is my blog, and I love it that much.

The M&M Commercial

I am very sick of the song, but it's a little bit funny.  A naked M&M?  That's silly.  "My shell is brown.  It just looks like my milk chocolate is showing."

The "It's Halftime America" Chrysler Commercial

Very well done.  Clint Eastwood's voice was perfect, and it's the uplifting commercial that all Americans had to love.

So, there you have it.  That was my list of top 10 commercials, with an extra B- Spears thrown in just because.  For an average price of $116, 666.67 per second, or $3.5 million per 30 seconds, they weren't too shabby.   

My Sister, My Roommate

Erin and I have successfully lived together in a tiny apartment for 16 days.  Alert the media!  This is big news.  We have lived together for 16 days without a single fight.

But, I'm going to be completely honest, because my tongue, cheeks and lips are raw from all the times I have been biting, chewing and gnawing on them to keep from starting a fight.

Erin and I have been getting along very well, but we have been spending WAYYYY too much time together.  Her bedroom is the living/ dining room and my bedroom is also the study, so it's tight quarters.  We have one computer to share and one bathroom to use.  So far all of these things have been okay, and just something we have to get used to.  The biggest problem right now is the mom/ sister dilemma I'm dealing with.

Erin is only 16, I understand that, but she is 16 and living in NYC without her parents.  She needs to grow up just a little bit.

Our very first day in the apartment Erin took off her nail polish.  She took off her nail polish on top of the wood table.  So not only did she take off her nail polish, she took off part of the table's finish.  Did she say anything about it?  No.  When I asked her about it, she smirked and said she was sorry.  Okay, everyone makes mistakes.

The next weekend, Chip came to visit and brought along Old English from my parents.  The bottle, instructions, steel wool, and sand paper has been sitting on the table for nearly a week.  Has Erin even attempted to fix the table or ask me how?  Nope.

Every evening I have walked to pick Erin up from ballet.  It's a five mile walk, but I love it.  I take different streets every time while listening to my newest podcasts.  The two of us then take the subway back to the apartment.  Erin usually takes a shower while I make dinner.  The two of us eat, and she piles her dishes next to the sink.  Really?  I just made you dinner, the least you could do is the dishes.  But, for the past week I have kept quiet.  I have done the dishes, loading what I can in the tiny dishwasher, and hand washing the rest.

The next morning, her pile of dishes starts in the sink.  Really?!  I ask her to unload the dishwasher, and she does, but, really?!

Now, laundry.  Yesterday we did three loads of laundry between the two of us.  And even though she knew that the dryers were finished, she didn't go downstairs to get the laundry.  So, I brought it back up after she left for ballet and folded everything.  I left her laundry basket filled on her bed.  Last night she thanked me for folding her laundry.  Okay.

This morning, I woke up to find this in the dirty basket:

Yup.  You are looking at a pair of pants and a t- shirt that she wore to bed last night.  It was the first time I had seen either article worn since we have lived here, meaning she only wore these things to bed once and threw them in the basket.  Uhmmm, excusey?

Oh, and last night, on the way home from ballet Erin convinced me to get Chinese food.  I agreed when she agreed to pay for it.  Don't worry, I'm not that mean, I paid last week.  But, with our food they gave us a free can of soda.  Erin asked me what kind I wanted.  I perked up and said, "Oooo, Diet Coke!"  We walked home with the food, ate it, and I did the dishes.  As I put the can of Diet Coke in the fridge I said, "Oooo, this is so exciting!  A can of Diet Coke!  Delicious!"  Now, let me add that I have a 2- liter bottle of caffeine free Diet Coke in the fridge, so this can was very exciting.  It has caffeine and it is in a can.  I was thrilled to be able to drink it today.

Fast forward two hours.  Erin had spent some time on my computer before joining me in the living room.  I was enjoying Bride-day on TLC when Erin sat down.  She got up to get a snack, as she does about thirty- five times a night, and came back chewing on celery and holding my can of Diet Coke.  She cracked it open and took a sip.  I just looked at her, shocked.  Her response, "what?"  Seriously?!

The empty can, left on the counter, for me to recycle.

So, now that I have vented about every little thing that has bothered me, well, not about the hair or make up in the sink, but never mind those things, let me discuss with you the real problem.  The problem right now is deciding whether I am supposed to be Erin's roommate, or a stand-in for Erin's mom.

Right now, the mom- thing is working for certain things.  I tell her how many hours of work she has to do, and she does it.  She has to tell me exactly when she arrives at ballet, and I pick her up every night to bring her home.  She has to ask me to stay the night with her friend, or if she wants to make plans with other people.  She listens to me when I tell her to turn off the television and go to sleep.

But, what if I want some roommate benefits as well?  How about I will make dinner, but you do the dishes?  ...And that includes emptying the dishwasher the next day.  Or what about laundry?  Just because I am doing your laundry does not mean that you can put things in there because you are too lazy to put them away!  They aren't dirty!  And my Diet Coke?  Come on!  You didn't even ask!  I probably would have said yes, but you didn't ask!

I need to have the authority of the stand- in mom, but the help of a roommate.  I think it is time to implement a chore chart.  Yup.  It's chore chart time!    

Thank You!

Friday night I received an email from my cousin with the subject line of "Your Blog" and the main text saying "Is awesome."

Awesome!

Occasionally I receive comments on my blog posts or emails in my inbox from readers, and I just want to say thank you!  I cannot tell you how much it means to me to receive this feedback.  I love reading the comments, critiques, criticisms and praise.  It means the world to me that people read this blog, and take the time to write back to me.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for writing!  I love writing this blog, but I love that other people love it too.  Thanks for sharing it with me and keeping me motivated!

Nerd Alert

Last April, I came home from Thailand for 5 weeks.  It was a planned trip which allowed me plenty of time to decide what to pack.  The catch was: my sling.  When I was flying home I still had a broken collar bone and three broken ribs, so I was rockin' a baby blue sling.  With one arm incapacitated (I could hold things in my hand, like my passport, or a drink, but not pick anything up), I had to strategically plan my packing.

I wanted to bring lots of things home.  I knew I would be moving home at the end of the year, so I wanted to make the trip as productive as possible, bringing as much home as I could.  With only one good arm, this was a challenge.

I ended up boarding the plane with one 23- kilogram bag and a purse.  And, yes, my bag was exactly 23 kilograms.  I have a pretty impressive knack for packing bags exactly to the weight limit, and never over.  It started when I was moving back and forth to Tulsa, but I have perfected the gift over the years.  The perfect example was the cruise.  My one checked bag weighed 49.5 pounds.  It's a long way from my days of packing for two weeks in one teeny tiny backpack, but I have already addressed that issue.  Don't judge.

The days of packing for two weeks on my own.

The days of traveling for a week with my family.  Yikes.

Let's get back on track.

I went home with one suitcase and a purse.  I was only carrying my purse onboard, so I decided to leave my computer in Thailand.  I knew I would be at home and I would have access to my family's computer, so I didn't think twice about it.

When I returned to Thailand, and booted up my little computer, I immediately noticed a difference in battery life.  Sitting in my closet for five weeks didn't do the battery any favors.  My computer seemed to be unable to hold a charge at all.  It was very, very frustrating.  One of the beautiful things about owning a laptop is the ability to take it where you want, without worrying about it.  I used to take it downstairs, outside, to friends' houses, to coffee shops and never think twice about the power cord.  Well apparently, my laptop didn't like hanging out in a closet, and was rebelling against me.

I thought that the battery issue would pass with time.  But, I'm a computer idiot, and I was very wrong.

When I came back to the States in December I watched with envy as Garvey and Chip went for what felt like days without plugging their computers in.  Silly, sling.

Garvey made fun of me for my lack of battery life, and judged me as I frantically ran to get my power cord before my computer died again.  He went into my Utilities folder and opened System Profiler, something my computer idiot self had never opened.  He looked at the Power section and laughed.

"What?  Only 300 life cycles?  Poor condition?  That sucks."

Well, thanks for that, Garvey.  As though I didn't already know I had problems, you had to show me how to constantly check how serious my problems are.  That's awesome.

But, here is my moment to redeem myself.

Since that afternoon in Arizona I have been nursing my battery back to health, to the best of my ability.  I allow my computer to fully charge, and as soon as the green light clicks on, I unplug it.  I allow my computer to die, and then I plug it back in.  A month and a half later, and it looks like my hard work is paying off!  Last night I checked my System Profiler, and my battery's condition is Fair!  No longer, do I have an extremely sick battery in "Poor" condition.  No, siree.  My battery is just a little bit sick and in "Fair" condition!  Woo hoo!

Green light on?  Time to unplug!

2:47 after unplugging it for a few minutes?  I'll take it!

Read it and weep.  (I nearly was weeping last night)  Condition: Fair

Nerd alert.

The Downfall of Owning a DVR

My family didn't get cable television until I was living in Thailand.  And to record Friends, back in the day of new episodes, I had to cue up and set the VCR with a blank tape.  Not anymore, ladies and gentlemen.   There is now a thing called DVR.  And, my sister is the queen of it.

When I came back to Saratoga in December I began to understand the full potential of DVR, thanks to my sister.  I also understood the frustration my grandfather must have felt when he was forced to watch Hannah Montana because my sister had too many shows recording simultaneously.  Poor Grandpa wanted to watch Fox News, but DVR took over, and forced him to watch and listen to Miley Cyrus' ridiculous Disney Channel antics.  Months later, I was forced to watch Dance Moms, when I really just wanted to watch The Food Network and Ina Garten making something delicious and chocolatey.  Thanks, Erin.

When we moved into our apartment we were pleasantly surprised to find it much larger than we had assumed.  Erin had other reasons for her excitement.  While I unpacked my suitcases, Erin quietly got into trouble in the living room.  On our very first evening, she discovered DVR, and got right to work scheduling recordings.

She was so busy recording, she didn't have time to take off her scarf or shoes!

I have enjoyed the recordings.  I have recently become hooked on How I Met Your Mother, and I love being able to watch a 22 minute episode, in 22 minutes, while I eat my breakfast.

I enjoyed the recordings until last night.

Erin was on my computer, working on her math lessons.  I was tired, but sat on the couch to watch a few episodes on the DVR List.  I was shocked by how quickly all of the shows had accumulated.  I started with three episodes of How I Met Your Mother, then switched over to an episode of Barefoot Contessa.  Halfway through Ina's explanation of how to use a charcoal chimney, I realized I didn't even want to be watching television.  But, instead of just going to sleep or reading my book, I saw the DVR List as a to do list.  I felt the need to power through television shows, just to watch them and erase them.  I didn't even want to be watching television!

So, I took control.  I stopped watching Ina, and erased the episode.  I scrolled through and erased a few more episodes of Friends, Wipeout and Giada at Home, and I went to sleep.

It's great to have television shows on the ready for when I want to sit down, but I need to be more aware of when I actually want to watch television, and when I'm just using the DVR List as a To Do List.

No more wasting time watching television I don't want to watch.

And, while I try to stick to that, I'm going to attempt to teach Erin the same thing.  Her habits may be a bit tougher to break...

Let's Go Knicks!

Tuesday night I went to a Knicks game!

Nicole came down from Saratoga and we went to the game with her sister, Sarah, and Katie.  Nicole and I went to school with Jerome Jordan, who now plays for the Knicks, so we were pretty pumped.  Two weeks ago, however, Jerome was bumped down to the D league, but then brought back up again.  We weren't sure if we would be able to see him play, or if he would be on the team, but we bought the tickets regardless.

$40 tickets and $10 beers later, we were happily enjoying the game.  The Knicks were winning, and we could see Jerome!  Granted, Jerome was on the bench, but we could see him nonetheless.

Jerome is all the way on the end.

We were also able to see another one of our friend's from college, Brent, who now works as Jerome's assistant.  We met with Brent during halftime, who told us that we shouldn't ever have to pay for tickets again.  Score!

With less than 10 minutes left in the game, Jerome played!  And he scored!  He has come very far from his days as a lanky, awkward freshman...  Well, done Jerome!

The dancers were less than impressive.  And a little bit slutty.  I was not a fan.

 The Knicks win!!  Brent says we brought the luck.  Looks like I'll have to go back again soon!