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
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
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.
My sister: "I'm on facebook too."
Weirdo.
She looks more like Marissa, from the OC, every day. I am jealous.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Monday, March 16, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
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 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.
Friday, March 13, 2009
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.
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.
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