My One Year Anniversary

Can you believe it? It has been a full year since I moved back to the USA. I don't know if it feels like I just moved back yesterday, or if it feels as though I have been back in the States for years.

In one year my sister was accepted to Alvin Ailey (her audition was on 12/12), moved to New York City, got her learner's permit, transferred to Joffrey Ballet School and moved into a dorm room (without parental supervision) in Greenwich Village.

In one year my brother graduated from college, got an awesome job, moved to Wyoming and somehow became a grown-up.

My other brother, in one year, worked his tail off, spent his 13th summer at camp as a counselor and started going back to school.

My father moved to Abu Dhabi.

My mother has cleaned out the basement and the attic, replaced the roof, visited her three children in new homes and I'm sure I'm missing things...

Wilbur lost 7 pounds.

Tupper started eating a new brand of dog food.

As for me, I have lived in NYC, Saratoga Springs, and Madison. I worked in an amazing bakery and as a cabbie for models in Manhattan. I dabbled in online dating and snagged myself a fantastic boyfriend. Yes, friends I have boyfriend. I have a wonderful job that I am enjoying more and more every single day. I ran two half-marathons, raised a lot of money for Crohn's and Colitis Foundation, turned 25 and got bangs.

As I mentioned earlier, on one hand I think oh my gosh, has it already been one year? But on the other hand I can't help but think, all of this stuff... it's only been one year?

Happy 12/12/12!

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Happy Aaron Rodgers Day!

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Happy Hump Day!

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Happy Anniversary!

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Whatever you are celebrating, happy day to you!

 

Me? I'm celebrating wonderful memories from abroad, great opportunities in the US, and fantastic friends all over the world.

I want to write

Yesterday I tweeted about how my job is getting in the way of my recreational writing, and I meant it.  How am I supposed to publish all the blog posts I think about, write notes about and begin writing when I am now required to work for at least 8 hours a day?

My mind is always filled with blog post ideas.  As I walk the dog, take a shower, grocery shop, eat my lunch, sit in meetings, ride the bus, watch television, read, and just about everything else, I am thinking of blog posts.  I wish I could hire someone to transcribe all of my thoughts. 

Just after Wilbur finishes his breakfast, a little after 5:15 am, as we cross the street on our walk, I begin thinking in writing.  How I will begin the story, what quotes I do not want to forget, and how I will describe each of the characters races through my head as Wilbur tries to find the next tree to sniff. 

On an unrelated note, there must be a new dog in the neighborhood, because Wilbur has been stress-sniffing every single tree for the past two days.  Someone is new in town.

Not all of my posts reflect the amount of effort I described.  Let me correct myself, most of my posts don’t reflect the effort I described, but I wish they could.  If you could read all the reams of thoughts in my mind, I’m sure you would be impressed.  Unfortunately, the time to write doesn’t exist at the moment.  I wish I could sit around and write all day and every day, but as soon as I say that, I realize how ridiculous it would be.  If all I did was sit and write, where would my stories come from?  It’s my trips to the grocery store, days at work and random real-life experiences that make this blog what it is.  My real life is what gives me my material and my desire to write.  Some posts are deeper than others, but they all stem from the same thing: my every day. 

So as much as I would love to devote my life to writing, I don’t know what I would write about! (I also don’t know how I would pay for anything, but that is beside the point…)

Until then, I guess I’ll keep going to work (and getting a paycheck), writing blog posts in my mind, making lists in my notebook, and writing when I have the chance.

Turn that frown upside down!

Monday was a rough day.

It was my first staff meeting at work, and oh my goodness was it overwhelming.  Over 6,000 employees in one auditorium for over 2 hours?  Yikes.

After that, we had an all trainers meeting followed by a team meeting.  Let's just say, there were a lot of meetings today.  And as an employee still fully engrossed in training, and desperately trying to learn the lingo of the land, I had to think really hard... all day long.

I know that sounds silly, but it is so true.

This company runs on acronyms, and I don't know any of them.  I am trying to learn the names of each application, and I haven't even attempted to learn what each app does!  I don't know computer stuff.  I don't get Star Wars jokes.  Basically, I don't speak dork yet.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am not judging dork at all!  Dork is what created a job for me!  But, I don't understand what is being said!  Therefore, in my 5 hours of meetings yesterday, I had to listen really hard.  I had to think about what the acronym might be referring to.  Or, what the Yoda reference may have meant.  Then I would quickly think about how I need to buy Star Wars to watch, before I was struggling to keep up with which app was being discussed.

Needless to say, I left work with a pounding headache.  I thought too much.  I looked at too many screens.  I didn't drink enough water.  I was beginning to stress about upcoming deadlines.

I drove home, popped some ibuprofen, took Wilbur out for a walk, and decided to turn my day around.  The day hadn't been all bad, but my headache was taking over, and I needed to end on a good note.

I called the cable company and I spoke to the nicest man named Paul.  Paul helped me to pick the right cable package for me.  He made sure it includes ABC, Food Network, CMT and TLC.  Then he scheduled for the technician to come out Wednesday evening between 5 and 7pm.  Perfect!

While I was on the cable high, I went to the mattress store.  I know I need to get off my air mattress, but I have been working late, and I hate leaving Wilbur alone longer than he needs to be.  But on Saturday even my horoscope told me to buy a new mattress, so I knew it was time.

I went into Mattress Firm where Gabe helped me to pick the perfect mattress.  I awkwardly jumped around on the beds, feeling a bit like Goldilocks.  As I went down the row I would barely let my head hit the pillow before saying, "oh no, toooooo soft" and moving onto the next.  Gabe occasionally came back to check on me, but he left me to my bouncing, shifting, sitting, side sleeping and back sleeping.

After a good thirty minutes of bed testing, I picked my favorite, and the sales game began.  Gabe tried to sell me a nicer frame, I denied him.  Gabe tried to sell me a special mattress pad, and I denied him again.  Gabe told me the mattress pad normally sells for $119, but he would give it to me for $69.  I said no thank you.  He asked me why I didn't why to buy his super special mattress pad, and I told him I already had one.  Of course, that was a lie.  I was just planning to go to Target to buy one for less than $69.  Finally, Gabe pulled out the big guns.  He would sell me the super special mattress pad/ protector for $25.  Sold, fine sir.  Sold.  I would have paid more than that at Target, so Gabe, you win.  Better yet, I win.

With my mattress protector and washing instructions in hand, I headed home.  But, I took a detour.  I went to Bed Bath & Beyond to buy myself new sheets for my new bed.  I was able to drive from one side of town to the complete opposite side without using my GPS, and that alone put a smile on my face!   At BB&B I found egyptian cotton sheets, that I think will feel wonderful.  I spent almost as long shopping for sheets as I did for my bed!

I decided that while I was in the area, I should give Home Depot a shot for purchasing a kitchen trashcan.  I have an awesome slide out trashcan drawer in my kitchen with a slot for a trashcan.  But, I hadn't yet found a trash can that fit it!  I bought one that was too tall, one too wide, and one too deep for the opening.  Home Depot was my last stop before I was going to give up for a while.  So, while I was in the neighborhood, I ran in, bought a trash can for $6.97 and left.  On my entire drive home, I was sure the trashcan would be too big.  At one stoplight I would look at it and think, yeah, it looks too tall.  At the next stoplight I would look at it from another angle and think, yup, definitely too wide.  I cursed myself as I brought it up to my apartment, knowing I was wasting time and energy. 

I walked into the apartment and sighed with relief.  Not only had Wilbur successfully spent the time I was gone out of his kennel, but he was quiet!  Or he was not noisy enough to have the neighbors complain, but I'll go with quiet.  I played with the pup for a few minutes, reminding him that I hadn't abandoned him yet.

Begrudgingly I went into the kitchen to test the new trashcan.  And much to my surprise, it fit!  I threw a little party and got Wilbur super worked up.  Wilbur doesn't know what "trashcan," "it fits," or "we really live here now" mean, but he now knows that they are all good phrases.

With my new trashcan in place and my puppy tired from the trashcan party, I continued on my productive streak.  I unpacked the rest of my clothing, hanging and folding, and placing each item in its new home.

And as if that weren't enough, I started one of my many picture projects!  I have tons of framed photos but many have old photos in them, and all have dirty glass.  So, one by one, I opened the frames, took out the photos and cleaned the glass.  I only sliced two of my fingers, and I still have frames to fill, but it was a good evening's work.

After my super long and rough day at work, I was able to turn it around.

The moral of the story: With the help of an adorable dog, a credit card and ibuprofen, anything can get better!

It's a hard knock life

Wilbur has a tough life.  Every morning when I wake him up for his walk, he lets me know just how tough it is.  Sometimes he whines, other times he stretches for a good ten minutes, but his favorite move is to refuse to open his eyes.

Pretending to be asleep.

The night before we left for Madison.

I will give him a little credit, because the past two weeks have been really tough.  I took him away from his family and his best friend and immediately made him sit in a very hot car for 19 hours.  I made him stay in a bizarre hotel and ride an elevator.  Side note: watching a dog ride an elevator for the frist time, or the first few times, is absolutely hilarious.

His throne in the car

After the car ride I put him in a strange house with more strange people.  (The people weren't actually strange, just strangers to him)

The next day I made him stay in another new place with weird smells, bizarre sounds outside the door, and no furniture.  Only two days later I woke him up at 5 am.  This may have been the worst for him.  If Wilbur had control of his life he would go to bed at 8 pm every night and not wake up until 11 am.  Unfortunately, my new job likes me to arrive before noon, so he and I were up at 5. 

We took a nice long walk along a path that is becoming familiar.  And then I locked him up for the day.  But not before giving him his anti- anxiety treat!

There is a wonderful pet store down the street where Wilbur and I are quickly becoming regulars.  When we went there the first time the cute owner asked to be introduced to Wilbur.  When Wilbur backed away and put his tail down when he tried to give him a treat the man asked if he was always so skittish.  I explained that it had been a stressful week, and Wilbur had become a nervous nelly with the move.  The adorable man recommended special anti- anxiety treats to help.  And with a flash of his pearly whites, I was sold.  Yes, cute pet store owner, I will now medicate my dog.

But before you think I'm terrible for leaving Wilbur in his kennel all day, let me explain that he loves it!  He sleeps in his kennel by choice at night, and finds it comforting.  When everything around him has changed so significantly, his kennel and bed are the same, and he likes that.  I also put his kennel in my closet, so he can't hear people coming and going in the hall, which I think keeps his stress level to a minimum.

Luckily, last week was short, so Wilbur was only home alone for two days before I spent the day at home with him.  On the fourth Cait and I took Wilbur out to dinner with us at Roman Candle, a pizza place down the street from my apartment.

On the way home he stopped at our new favorite pet store.  I think we have different reasons for it becoming our favorite, but it works well for both of us!  The pet store was closed, but Wilbur didn't understand that.  He sat down in front of the door and didn't want to move.  The cat of MadCat came to the front door, and Wilbur was in love.  As she slinked back and forth, rubbing her back against the door, Wilbur followed her every move.  And now, he and I have similar motives for frequenting the store.

This past weekend I brought Wilbur into Waggin' Tails Doggy Dude Ranch to begin his life as a daycare-goer.  He had his temperament test and was immediately thrown to the wolves, or the pack of 30+ dogs in the small dog area.  When I was allowed to see him I was informed that he was doing quite well.  From a doggy daycare newbie, he looked like a brown noser to me, standing right next to the dogsitter waiting to be pet, but I guess that was good?  The woman said that the fact he wasn't hiding from the other dogs or getting aggressive were good signs.  Whatever you say, dog lady!  And so Wilbur will be going on Tuesday to play with the other pups and not be medicated while I work.  His cubby will remain empty, but if I decide to, he is allowed to bring special treats, toys or even an afternoon snack with him. 

Go ahead, make fun all you want.  Trust me, I know how silly it is.  I wonder if we will have quarterly parent-teacher conferences...  Progress reports?  Graduations?

Just after all of my stuff was delivered... see the over dramatic puppy?

One week down...

... and ? more to go.

I may have only worked four days, but I can honestly say I'm loving it!  And I'm loving more than just my job.  I'm loving my apartment.  I love the location, the size, the kitchen, and, oh, I could go on.  I am loving the people I work with.  My office mate is fantastic.  He is a University of Wisconsin Madison graduate and knows all the secrets of the town.  He also has lots of friends in the area: score!  I am also loving Madison in general.  People are so friendly here.  And everyone loves Wilbur, so that is a fantastic conversation starter.  (Maybe he'll score me a date?  Fingers crossed...)

But don't worry, it isn't all rainbows and unicorns.  And I am not looking at the world through rose colored glasses. 

My apartment is incredible, but I don't know if it is mine yet.  My mortgage is still pending.  So, at the moment I am renting the apartment on a nightly basis in hopes of closing on the 16th.  All of my things were delivered by the moving company on Friday.  This is amazing!  .... except for the mortgage.  Now, if I don't get this apartment, I have 2,000 pounds of stuff I have to move in a very small car.  With all of my stuff in my apartment I was psyched to begin the process of unpacking, but once again I don't have my mortgage.  So do I really want to unpack everything and repack in two weeks?  Nope, not exactly.  For the time being, I have unpacked a few dishes, my DVD player and more clothing.  I also found my roller blades and my iron, so I'm set for a while. 

Oh, and my things arrived, but from the two boxes I have opened, my moving company is not on my good side.  I found one broken wine glass, one broken baking pan and a broken picture frame.  I did all of my own packing, so I didn't want to blame those things on them.  But then I noticed two of the four corners on my dining room table are completely chipped and there is a massive scratch on the leaf for the table.  My dresser has a huge chunk taken out of its foot and one of the feet on my bookcase is falling off.  I know my things had to travel 1,000 miles, but, really?  Don't you carefully put it on a truck, drive, and then carefully take it off the truck?  That's what I think a moving company should do...

Luckily I don't own anything of significant value.  My dressers are who knows how old, and the bookcase was from Target in high school.  But, I still care!  I have always tried to keep my things in good condition, and I hate that they look like this now.  The biggest chip on my shoulder is the dining room table.  It's a gorgeous table my mom gave me.  It is a really nice table that she doesn't have a home for anymore.  And it isn't cheap or old!  And now it has a massive scratch and chips.  Total bummer. 

But what are you gonna do? 

That was a real question. 

What was I to do?  When the movers came to pick up my things they wrapped and packaged my furniture as they saw appropriate.  So how was I to keep this from happening?  As much as I love Madison, I do believe that I will move again in my life.  I don't plan on dying a crazy old dog lady in this apartment, so how do I keep my furniture from being destroyed?  Any suggestions?

Okay, enough with the furniture chatter.

Madison is fantastic.  Life is looking good. 

Now, I'm going to do some of my homework before taking Wilbur to the water ski show on the lake.  And maybe treat myself to some ice cream?  Yes, I think so.

I WILL make friends!

In my search for a new car my dad keeps reminding me of the Saab that is sitting in the driveway.  Garvey just bought himself a car, and my dad will be leaving the country for the year, which puts my parents in possession of too many cars and not enough drivers.  The plan was to sell the Saab, but my dad can't seem to part with it, and has offered it to me on multiple occasions.

Now please don't think of me as a spoiled brat for turning it down, but I have my reasons.  For one, I was really excited to buy myself a car!  This is the first time in my life that I will be making a significant purchase- like a car.  This is also the first time that I have had a significant enough salary to make such a purchase.

But, there is another reason.  While I was shopping for cars I made a list of my non- negotiables.  On the top of that list is four doors. After driving the Saab, and being a passenger in countless other two door cars, I know what a hassle they can be.  The massive doors, the seats that must be flipped, the seatbelts that are at the most awkward angle ever, and I could go on.  But as I attempted to explain this to my sister she said, "Meaghan, what do you really care about having to flip the seats for people to get in the back? It's not like you have any friends in Madison that you'll be driving around!"  I further explained the hassle by saying that just putting groceries or anything in the back seat cannot be done without flipping the seats.  When I realized that she wasn't going to understand I said, "you don't even have your license!   You wouldn't understand."  I walked away from the conversation feeling a bit down.  I do have one friend in Madison, but I fully intend to make more.  And Erin had only reaffirmed one of the things that make it hard to move to a new place: the lack of friends and family.

Two weeks later when the topic of the Saab came up with my dad, he again urged me to take the car.  I told him I would consider it, but I was still hesitant.  I again explained my dislike for two-door cars.  He looked at me sideways, as in, what is wrong with only two doors?  I then went into my spiel about friends getting into the back and having to get out of the driver's seat and flip the seat for passengers.  My dad chuckled and said, "but you don't have any friends in Madison!  Who are you driving around in the car?!"  This time I snapped.

"I do have a friend!  Caitlin lives there!  And seriously?  It's a new town, of course I don't have a ton of friends!  But do you really think I won't make any friends?  I have every intention to have a ton of friends there!  And I intend to have them be passengers in my car!"

And with that, our conversation was over.

As more time has passed, I have decided to take the Saab.  If the car is really just going to be sold, I might as well take it, right?  And, even though it isn't my dream car, it is pretty great.  The car is also Wilbur's favorite, because he can open the window with his paw.  (Thank goodness for child safety locks!)  I have plenty years of life left to have my dream car, or more appropriately, dream cars.

On June 26th Wilbur and I are heading west in the Saab.  Hopefully the top will be down and the weather will be perfect for our ride.  And when I arrive in Madison I will be thrilled to jump out of my seat to let passengers into the back!  By George, I am going to make friends... lots of them!  The more the merrier!  Anyone want to be my friend in Madison?

Podcast Junkie

I'm a self- proclaimed podcast junkie.  I love them.

I began getting hooked on them in Thailand.  Without the radio, it was a good way for me to keep up with the news.  Then I took it a step further, and I began to listen to a variety of podcasts.  I loved listening to the podcasts because I missed talk radio.  Gasp!

Now I regularly listen to "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!", "This American Life", "WTF with Marc Maron" and the NPR News App.  You have probably heard of most of those podcasts, because if I know my audience, I know that you all know what station NPR is in your area.  The one podcast you may not have heard of is "WTF with Marc Maron."  Yes, WTF stands for what you think it stands for.  Yes, there is a lot of f-bombing on the show.  No, I would not have ever thought I would like the podcast.

I used to listen to the podcasts on Sunday mornings and in the evenings when I would walk Manao around the lake.  Oh, I miss Manao....

And I miss Wilbur.

One day on the iTunes store I saw that one of the top 10 shows was "WTF."  I read the information, learning that Marc Maron is a comedian who interviews people who are also involved in comedy, in some way or another.  He has episodes with Dane Cook, Jimmy Fallon, Jason Sudeikis, Jon Hamm, Amy Poehler, and the list goes on.  I listened to the first episode, and I was immediately hooked.  Even though the language is far more inappropriate than I like to admit listening to, it is a great show.  I love listening to the guests' stories about their rise to fame.  More often than not they have incredible stories of broken homes and overcoming major obstacles.  And, as all of the guests are performers, and most are comedians, they tell a great and funny story!

The WTF podcast usually runs for about an hour and a half, which is the perfect amount of time for me to walk to pick Erin up from ballet, which is my new podcast time.  Even without Manao or Wilbur to walk, I have found a way to stay up to date with my podcasts.  I love walking to meet Erin at ballet because it has given me the opportunity to get to know the city.  The five miles between our apartment and Alvin Ailey can be walked a million different ways, and I try to walk a different way every day.  I get exercise, get to know my way around the city, people watch, and listen to my podcasts- talk about multi-tasking!  I often get caught laughing aloud to myself as I walk, but there are so many weirder people in the city than myself, I'm not too concerned.

The "Wait Wait" podcast is always funny.  "This American Life" is always serious, interesting, and sometimes disturbing.  NPR News is, well, the news.  And "WTF" is always funny and inappropriate.  But, a few weeks ago I listened to a "WTF" episode that was unlike any other.


**SPOILER ALERT**
If you want to listen to the episode before I give my two cents click here.

On the episode Marc Maron spoke with Todd Glass.

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It was Todd Glass' second time on the show, and he had asked Marc Maron if he could come on to discuss something important.  On January 16th Glass went on the show to tell the world that he is gay.

Listening to Glass discuss why he kept his homosexuality a secret for so many years, and why this is the perfect time to come out, is fascinating, and moving.  Since listening to this episode, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.  I really love it.

Before you listen, I must warn you, there is foul language.  But, I think it is a great podcast, and if you can get past the swear words, you might really enjoy it.  You can listen to the episode here.  

Time to pack

My family is a bit strange.  We each have our own bizarre habits and such.  We each have weird tendencies.  But, when it comes to packing, we are all pretty similar.  Except for my father.

We are leaving for family vacation soon, and my dad has been packing for a week.  For an entire week he has been hanging things in the mud room, and choosing shoes and laying them on top of Wilbur's kennel.  His suitcase has been in the ready position for days, but has been left untouched.  He has piles at the foot of his bed and a few on the dining room table.  He has switched some shirts for others, put his shoes in individual bags, and rethought his sock choices.  And the rest of my family has spent an entire week making fun of him.

The rest of us, we wait until the last minute, and it is hilarious.

So now, at 9 pm, Garvey, Erin and I are all packing upstairs.  Erin is planning every single outfit, and exactly which night and to which dining room she will wear it.  She is also making sure that I bring exactly the accessories I promised I would.  Garvey, is cleaning out.  He is getting rid of things left and right.  And every five minutes or so, he calls Erin into my bedroom, and asks both of us if we want     blank   .  First it was an ipod dock.  Every time Erin and I would chuckle, call him crazy, and go back to our respective rooms and music choices.  But, most recently, Garvey called a giveaway meeting, and pulled from behind his back two old cups.  Yes, he offered us his old cups.  Weirdo.  But, I had an idea.  Poor Wilbur gets very cold ears in the winter.  I had just finished telling my mom that he needs a pair of earmuffs, and voila!  We had earmuffs.

At one point Garvey let Wilbur borrow his headband so the earmuffs stayed in place on their own, but by the time this photo was taken, Wilbur was all done with the game.

So, now I'll get back to packing.  I did a little dancing, a little slideshow making and now a little blogging, but it's time to get down to business.