What I Learned In NYC

1. No matter how hard you try there will always be someone who doesn't like you. And you just can't take it personally, even if that someone calls you a bitch.

2. Heels=male attention times ten.

3. Heels all over New York=sore feet and a cab ride home.

4. 80's music makes everything more fun. Ditto famous people.

5. I really don't like using the bathroom on vacation. So I kinda just don't. Eww?

6. Shopping is almost as effective as having a tantrum when it comes to coping with bad surprises.

7. Being naive and innocent-looking may suck most of the time, but it also means that you can pull off bordering-on-slutty clothes that would make any other girl look like an absolute ho.

8. I need to make sure I don't end up with someone who doesn't like watching movies as much as me. I want to watch movies everywhere. Even on vacation where you could be doing absolutely anything and the world is at your feet. I have never known anyone else like this (besides people that watch with me just to humor me).

9. The cold makes me want to shoot myself.

10. Friends are the bestest estestestest things ever.



"Phoebe, you realize that Emi can't actually put us in timeout, right?"
-Chloe

Addict

Me: "Don't shut my door, I am actually trying to be open to communication with the real world."
My sister: "I'm on facebook too."

Weirdo.

She looks more like Marissa, from the OC, every day. I am jealous.

Milestones

Te put on his shoes by himself for the first time today! Granted they were Crocs, but these type of baby steps are important. Well, toddler steps actually. He's also developed a funny habit of saying that his third birthday was last week (not true) and alternately trying to convince people that he is six years old (also false). Goober.

And when I left at the end of the day both of the boys said "I love you" to me which was another big first.

I am going to be so sad to leave them. And how will their mom ever find another nanny that actually sleeps beside Te for his afternoon nap? I will send them postcards.




"That your puter?"
-Te asking about my laptop.

Softcore Porn

I have never read one of those books that is complete smut...until now. Yes I've done the whole chicklit thing. And that's what I thought I was checking out of the library the other day until I got home and read a hundred pages of nonstop erotica.

Why didn't I stop? For one, I rarely stop reading any book, and if I do its only after I've gotten to the halfway point. And second of all, you try putting down something that intense. It's like turning off the TV at the beginning of We Own the Night. Yeah its a little bit weird watching Joaquin Phoenix and Eva Mendes (and Eva Mendes and herself) go at it, but its mesmerizing so you watch. Plus you have to find out what happens to the estranged brothers. Which coincidentally was also a key element in my porno library book's plot.

And then you feel dirty afterwards. Reading is also somehow more explicit than watching.

My dermatologist is the shit.

He's a Jewish doctor in his late forties (I would guess) and after only one sentence he immediately has you thinking "Ahh, you are just about the sharpest tool in the entire shed aren't you". I haven't seen him in over a year and he recognized me as soon as he walked in and immediately asked me if my bruises had gone away and how my time in South Africa went.

Then he recommended that my sister switch from minocycline (the stuff that caused my perma-bruises) to doxycycline, which is just as effective with less side effects.

Getting to the real business of the day, he took a cursory, yet comprehensive, glance at my fingertips and diagnosed me with hand eczema. Blah blah blah, prescription for the blisters. Description of the "chronic condition". Warning to stay away from hot water (so much for the hothot showers that I take whenever I'm cold, which is always, and for my toddler germ fighting regimen). And I was out in less than five minutes.

That man is a machine. A machine with an absolutely explosive IQ and a mind like a steel trap. I am thoroughly impressed.

So. If you have bruises, rashes, acne or something else skin related and you are in or around Baltimore, go see Mitchell Klapper, MD. Satisfaction guaranteed. Plus the best bagels in Baltimore are literally right around the corner from his office.

You heard it here.

Stress: Spring Break Edition

Yes, it is that time of year. Spring Break that is, not stress...stress is a year-long event.

I should be getting psyched. After all, anticipation is half the fun. But I'm somehow not really on board yet.

For one, I'm stressed about us finding a place to stay. We have reservations at a nice hostel/hotel in the Morningside Heights neighborhood but we want to be more downtown. I found a place on Craigslist that sounds good and is Gramercy (where Whitny from The City lives...fate?). But I'm always scared about giving my credit card information to people who aren't from corporate hotel chains. Am I being sketchy? Should we just subway it on all our outings, or should we risk getting scammed to try to get a place closer.

For the record, the Craigslist woman sounded totally legit. And contrary to popular belief, I am not that naive about stuff like this, aaand I have good instincts.


That's kind of small cookies, though. Because I'm also worried that I won't even have fun. I don't want to be pessimistic, but I AM pessimistic. Chloe and KPott and I haven't hung out in a zillion years. I love them both to death and we talk as much as possible on the phone. But they've both been distant lately. What if spending a week together in a busy city is stressful instead of exciting? Argh. It's probably that they both have finals. And we always have fun, so I'm sure it will be fine. But I want it to be mindblowing, not just fine...... we'll see.

Finally, I am also getting that preparing-to-leave meloncholia. This will be my last time living with my parents. And my last time living with my sister! I'll KIT as much as I can, of course. But I highly doubt that I will come live at home after law school. Even during the summers between law school years, I'll be working somewhere. "I'm not mature enough for this!" (Parent Trap, everybody.) My parents can handle it, and once I'm gone I will be fine too. I don't get that sad when I am away and busy. But I will miss being with my sister and I know she'll miss me too. I feel like I already missed so much of her youth (yes, I sound like I'm over 50) when I was living outside the house during college. She's only just started high school now, and I'm going to miss a rockin' good time. Boooo.

Pobre Phoebe. Ahora mi vida es triste. Soy emo.

Dame desu neeee!

Isn't it weird how all languages other than your first are stored in the same part of your brain? I have NEVER been able to compose espanol in my head without nihongo vocab randomly popping up. No Spanglish for me, just Japanish. Or Spanese. I don't know bout you but I much prefer the former. More syllables are always better.





"But, but you told me that I was the rule and... does this mean I'm the exception?"
"You're my exception."
Yet again, that part made me tear up.

I Got It From My Mama

I complain a lot about my mother's lack of prowess in the whole sympathy field...ditto empathy. But I am starting to realize that I am not so slammin' myself when it comes to consoling people.

I maintain that I make much more of an effort than my mother. I just never know what to say. To the point where what I say is trite and makes things worse not better. I ALWAYS end up saying, "Wow, that sucks," which I think most people interpret as me trivializing the situation. I can just see them thinking "whatever Phoebe, like you can even pretend to understand my current plight."

This past year Josh's coaches asininely cut him out of a tournament trip that he had been looking forward to all year. I knew it was a really big deal for him, and I felt horrible. But I knew that nothing I said would even come close to communicating that I understood what he was feeling or come close to actually making him feel better. So I tried my best to empathize and comfort him and let him talk if he needed to. And he got mad at me for not saying enough and not being sympathetic enough. Clearly, I suck.

My sister was always the same way. She's a little bit prickly when she is unhappy. She doesn't like being touched...or really bothered at all. When we used to fight when I babysat her she always pulled the "you don't care about me at all!" card. Which inevitably made me feel awful. I would come and try to talk to her and tell her that of course I loved her. I would even crawl in bed with her and rub her back while she fell asleep. And she would just shrug me off and ignore me.

Then again, perhaps it is rare for people to be all that receptive to being consoled. Chloe used to try really hard to talk me down when I got worked up about something. I think she never understood why I wasn't having it when she tried to brainstorm ways out of my colossal dilemmas. What it really came down to was that when I have meltdowns I don't want to hear possible solutions to my issue. By that point I've already decided that it is the end of the world, and so all I want to do it yell and blame someone....even if there isn't really anybody to blame.

So maybe other people are like that too. Maybe they don't want to be made to feel better or told that its going to be fine. Maybe they want someone to blame and critique. If so then my mother and I are actually prime examples of good consolation services. Because we leave much to be desired.

Speaking of my mother, she and I had a fabulous morning. She bought me a new scrapbook and some paper, and she took me out to lunch. I feel quite awful that I just spent a couple of paragraphs critiquing the woman who was responsible for procuring me a giant hamburger that not only was covered in cheese, but also had copious amounts of bacon AND pulled pork. I couldn't even finish my pickle. And its a big deal when I don't eat the whole pickle. So let me just say this: yes, I do have mommy issues with the lack of a sympathetic ear that sometimes exists in my household, but I would not trade or change my mother for anything in the world. She is the absolute PERFECT mix of cool, funny, poised, hilarious, dorky, extremely intelligent, selfless and loving. I have never even met another woman who rivals her.

Even if I have picked up one of her lack of warm and fuzzy tendencies, I am lucky to have the opportunity to become more like her.

Difficult Kids 101

I feel really bad for the woman that I nanny for. She's a fabulous mom and a great person, and I feel like she and I have similar personalities. But her kids drive her absolutely nuts, and her husband is commuting from the west coast on a weekly basis.

The oldest one is four years old and he already acts like an angsty teenager. He throws tantrums so constantly that, for him, making a scene is not an incident, it's a state of being. He likely has sleep apnea which is fueling the problem, but he also has just learned at a very young age how to manipulate his parents.

The little one is two and has a much sunnier disposition, but he learns more from his brother every day. When the two of them get going with their whining and shrieking and pushing it is total mayhem.

Although I am only the nanny and I obviously have a lot less experience with kids and with Till and Te in general than the mom, I feel like talking to her about things. Sometimes when you're trapped in a bad situation you can't quite see the escape route the way an outsider can.

I think the best way to approach the handling of naughty kids is to take on the psyche of a high school jock or someone of that nature. Number one, you need to realize that (to the kids at least) you are hot shit. They are lucky to have your attention whenever they have it, and nothing you do will make them stop adoring you. That's why guys are often better at handling elementary school-aged kids and younger (contrary to popular belief)...because guys have little or no qualms about kids not liking them if they don't give them what they want. Girls are often encouraged by society to weigh the emotional consequences of each action and avoid anything that will make them seem less nice. With badly behaved children, that kind of thinking can be downright dangerous.

Second, don't tolerate bullshit. You are way too cool to have to listen to nonsense like whining. So don't. When kids act out, don't ignore it and don't act like that is normal behavior and simply say "stop whining!" Aim more for the "what the hell do you think you are doing!?" tone (without the hell of course) and make it clear that whining is weird and uncool and will NEVER be rewarded.

Third, whenever whining occurs go out of your way to make sure the kid does not get whatever he was whining for. Even if you were planning to give him a cookie when he whines and starts making a scene about wanting the cookie immediately change your plans and don't give him the cookie. Whether or not you make a big deal of the fact that revoking the cookie is punishment for the whining (which could cause further tantrums and is a little hard for small children to understand), the kids will still learn super quickly that whining is not an effective method of getting what they want. And they will stop whining altogether. Children are naturally inclined to whine like they are inclined to cry when they are sad....whining is a manipulative behavioral tool that they will cease to utilize when it is de-incentivized.

Fourth, go over the top to reward good behavior. Kids are willing to play by the rules when they can understand what the rules are...and when they realize that cheating is not an option because you are smarter and utterly unmanipulatable. Good manners like saying "please" are regularly rewarded by parents because they are so visible...or rather, audible. But also make sure to reward more passive actions like patience, or when a child refrains from freaking out when their toy is stolen. Rewarding good behavior will go just as far as punishing bad behavior once kids work out that they can seriously benefit from pleasing you.

Finally, remember that kids like boundaries. It's not just a silly proclamation that screwballs like Dr. Laura (oooh, I hate her) espouse. It's the truth. You have to realize that kids may not like not being allowed to do something at that exact moment, but they like rules in general. They are learning how to live and rules make life significantly less confusing for them. Plus rules help kids understand how to make YOU happy, and you are such a big part of their life that they can really only be happy when you are happy. So don't be afraid of being a rules bitch. Family households should NOT be democracies.



Endnote: Yes, I hate UCLA this year, but Josh Shipp is SERIOUSLY cute. There is also something to be said for rivals/villains being attractive. See Cillian Murphy.

Ewww.

There are so many typos in these entries. I may have to delete this blog. Or shoot myself.

Let's sleep on it.

Things That Are Good

Personalization:

EVERYONE who is cute wants jeans, etc, that have the first letter of their name on them or something like that. Same with girls wanting Victoria's Secret undies that are specially designed for their university. Yes, it's just a marketing ploy. But it is a damn enjoyable one.



Businesses that go the nearly effortless extra mile:

Case in point...it was my dog's birthday this past week, and the vet sent this ecard.
It's not an actual picture of my dog, but it is his breed. This is the stuff that makes me happy with my pets' health care. That and lack of illness of course.



Movies based on video games:

At first this always seems dumb to me, and I am consistently embarrassed to admit my love for all things Resident Evil. BUT, I have decided that it makes perfect sense that movies based on video/computer games would be qualitatively better. For one, everyone comes into a movie with no knowledge of the back story. Some movie makers go buck wild with complexity and seem to forget this key detail. Or else they overcompensate and feed what should be subtle clues to the viewers repeatedly. Video game plots offer the perfect middle road because they're constructed to be learn-as-you-go yet complicated enough to keep the video gamers interest and possibly cause them to lose repeatedly.

Also, using the video game sequence of events for the movie storyline ensures that every scene has meaning and rids it of the senseless death that is frustrating in so many other movies. Don't you just hate it when some asinine character goes charting around enemy territory, stumbles upon a locked door and then unleashes hordes of zombies...all without accomplishing anything? Infuriating. And it happens oh so often. In video game movies, however, there are inevitably insurmountable challenges that arise, but there is always a point. She wanders into an empty hallway/lab room/office and has to fight a zombie, but she finds a gun/has a flashback/key piece of information there which is instrumental to her escape.


Little Boys:

In the car with Till and Te and Calhoun (MY rubber car lion) and "sick bear" (MY teddy bear that smells like chocolate)...

Me: "Te, be careful! Calhoun will break if you stretch him too far."
Till [holding my teddy bear]: "Phoebe, Calhoun doesn't just belong to you, he belongs to me and Te too. And this sick bear doesn't belong to you, he belongs to all of us."

???????

Work.

Me: "I like your new glasses, Dean. It's a good look."

Dean: "You're a good look."

See? Not everybody at work thinks I'm worthless......yup, I keep telling myself that. (: No, its not really that bad. I think I might give people Valentines before I leave because I am sort of attached at this point and I want them to know that I think they're cool and will actually miss them.

I hope I can find a store that still has those Valentines with Disney characters on it. Those are kind of my thing.







"You're a bitch!"
-Corey...I didn't mind him saying this because a) I know he didn't mean it, b) I give him a hard time sometimes, as do most other people, and c) he has gorgeous eyes.

It may or may not be that time of month...

I just got an email from one of the Mennonite "young adults" at my church inviting me to a BYOB St. Patrick's day party. Awkward. I mean he did make sure to tell people to bring local beer since its better for the environment, but I didn't even know that Mennonites were allowed to drink except in a renegade, on the DL fashion. Hmmm.

Also, I hate it when people that I am not friends with are too much like me. I mean, hellloooo. Get your own personality. Maybe you don't realize that you keep posting on facebook about all the things that I am interested in, but I was born first so just back off and leave my favorite things to me.

And finally, I enjoy being a waitress because there is no other legit job where you can monetarily benefit from being cute without feeling like a total skank. If you aren't good at being cute, well...sorry. But if you are you might as well waitress for a little while so that your cuteness can be appreciated (and rewarded) by grandmothers, frat boys, and families alike.

Plus waitressing encourages you to push the creativity envelope in devising bigger and better ways to escape the boredom of the dreaded Sunday double. Case in point: "I will pay you five bucks if you eat that whole tube of black pepper." Unfortunately nobody was cheap enough.

"If you put this liquid into your eye I will switch sections with you and close for you tonight." I did go for that one. I got to go home early and my eyes didn't even sting.

Label: "Black coke. Do not snort. If lost return to head waiter." That was the black pepper again.

"Let's all put fake tats on our necks like Rihanna and Chris Brown."

"Dude, let's put salt and ice on our hands and give ourselves frostbite." That little bit of faux frat bonding I refused to participate in. Way too That 70's Show. And the lesions they ended up were gross and lasted days. Not in a cool way.

And today we not only blew our way through seven Mensa crosswords, we also started constructing our own. The puzzle theme is "It's the Pits!" in honor of the working environment at the fine establishment that employs us.





"Phoebe, are you busy or do you think that rolling silverware and setting up the dining room could be more important than making a crossword?"
Passive aggressive bullshit pisses me off. Especially when every single person at that restaurant knows that all you have to do is ask and I will immediately embark on the completion of any task. And I do not appreciate being called "Miss Thang" when I have a legitimate complaint about that tone of voice used when addressing me.

Phoebe's Tips for Disorganized Girls on the Go

1. Wrinkled clothes? Hang them in the bathroom while you shower. If you shower for as long as I do they will be perfectly smooth by the time you get out.

2. Life without gum is nasty, brutish and short.

3. Constantly dry skin? Slather on multiple coats of Cetaphil lotion in the am and then add powder to your newly shiny skin and you will be good for the entire day.

4. Floss should be kept in your bag for easy access. If it is an emergency and you didn't put it in your purse you can use a strand of hair.

5. Can't wear eyeshadow because the powder collects in the creases of your eyes? Use tinted chapstick instead.

6. Always carry a crossword puzzle for awkward situations.

7. If you can't find matching socks, deliberately pick ones with drastically different patterns yet the same color tones so that it looks like you are being bohemian and cute and not just messy.

8. Have a hard time getting yourself out of bed in the morning? Put a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup on top of your alarm along with your iPod pre-tuned to your favorite playlist. That way as soon as you reach a conscious state you are fueled, caffeinated and your mood is moderately under control.

9. Wash and save your to-go Starbucks cups so that you can take your coffee with you in the morning without worrying about losing/breaking yet another of your travel mugs.

10. Don't paint your nails. Its fun, but if you have no time to combat the inevitable half chipped off stage you'll end up looking like a scrappy middle-schooler.



"I am the hottest, I am the hottest."
-My mother (who else?) as she demonstrated her newly acquired exercise video hip hop moves.

Operation Awkward Narwal

Commenced today at 1700. Biz-cas shoes were bought. At Payless Shoes no less. Mwahahaha. The last time I was inside one of those stores was before high school. I have decided after today though that that establishment deserves to be frequented much more often. The shoes are perfectly-sized mini wedges. Not too casual, not too high. Because as much as I support looking cute, there is no way that I am blundering around that city in heels without backup. That can be attempted in 2 weeks.

Still worried about whether I will look like a serious fool rolling around with my suitcase on a subway. I am too cheap to take a cab and I need too many clothes to pack a more reasonably sized bag so I suppose there is no escaping it.

But suitcase or no suitcase my number one fear is being alone in the midst of a giant group for three days. I think I will have to take preemptive action by actually making myself be outgoing for once. Gag. And if I crash and burn I can always go drink in a bar for three days, right? Right. ....a cool bar, though. I will be picked up by random guys and have a fling a night.

Tee hee. Not.

Television es triste.

It makes me cry so often. Am I emo? Perhaps. I am a sweat the small stuff type. Lots of tantrums about deadlines and bills and social drama. Some tears every now and then when lives fall apart on the OC. But that's just the small stuff.

I am a master at dealing with the big stuff. Zen, comparatively. Tears about big issues are few and far between. It's also funny that other people seem to be very receptive to giving sympathy for smaller things, but will rarely even mention the big stuff.

And then there's my mother...who won't yield an ounce of sympathy for anything. I don't know how she and I are so different. Shouldn't I be modeled after her??? I think I took after my dad. I have a temper and limited patience. I am stubborn and I always think that I can devise a stratagem that will make everything difficult fall into place. And when things turn out not so peachy, I have trouble.

My mom and my sister are more independent. They think they have to be silent martyrs about a lot of things. They are also funny in a stubborn I'll say what I want to say to whoever I want to way. And they aren't the queens of tlc or sympathy, and sometimes (rarely) they struggle a bit with tact. But they handle stress marvelously...and privately.


It all comes out in the wash.







"I think that he should just shoot it because it is clearly a big freako."
-My mother on the lack of non-defensive killing in I Am Legend