Bold Move

I just got to school and unwrapped my toasted wheat bagel with plain cream cheese from Dunkin Donuts. There was a tiny bit of mold on it. I picked it off and ate the bagel anyway.

Perhaps not my finest moment...

Be Thankful

I woke up at 5:15 this morning and saw that I had a missed call from "Home" at 10:34pm last night. I talked to my parents around 7 and we were all heading to bed (long weekend) so I thought it was strange that they would be calling me that late when A) then knew I would be sleeping and B) they were supposed to be sleeping.

I dialed my dad's cell and he answered after the first ring, before I could even ask why they called he told me that one of my cousins was found dead in his apartment last night. He went to sleep and never woke up. He was thirty years old.

Take time today/this week to let the people in your life know that you care about them. Sometimes, you might not ever get the chance again.

Still talking about last weekend

I was slightly panicked about my flat tire because I couldn't tell how serious it was and Mondays are a *really* bad day for me to have a flat tire. I work all day, rush home to walk the dog, then go to class for 6 hours, so? Dealing with a flat tire? Not really an option. I was also panicked to deal with it on Sunday because I only had 2.5 hours to get home and let the dog out before it had been too long and I wanted to get home before The Mom in case The Daughter hadn't cleaned well enough and I needed to unload the dishwasher. Because? The Mom? Doesn't like to come home to a clean dishwasher. Obviously.

Before I moved to CT I did everything to my car that I thought would be necessary. I wanted to move with the peace of mind that my car would be reliable and not cause any major issues. The battery died once since I've been here, but that's it. In my quest to ready my car for the move I bought four brand new tires at Costco.

There is a Costco around here so I called and asked if they could fit me in Sunday to look at my tire. The man who answered said sure, come right in. I drove up to the Costco and there was a 1.5hour wait. I might be cutting it a little tight, but I didn't mind, I wanted my tire to get fixed. I handed over my keys and settled in to the plastic bench in the tire center. I could have browsed around Costco, but the amount of people in there was RIDICULOUS and? I can't spend any money so it would not have been very fun. After one hour and thirty minutes the man behind the counter tells me that they drove my car around so it will just be a minute. Great! I stand up, get my coat on and... wait. For twenty minutes. Still no car or keys. After thirty minutes the man behind the counter heads to his break saying, "I can't believe your keys aren't here yet. Wonder where they are?" Yea... me too.

After fifty minutes a guy comes around from out back to help another customer. As he's making his way back to the garage I inquire about my keys. He looks a little embarrassed and says, "Oh, the Volvo? With VT plates?" Me: "Yessss?" Him: "Well, the guy who worked on your car drove it out, then went to lunch with your keys." Me: "Really? Could you try to find him?" Him: "Yea, I called him, but he's not answering." Wonderful.

I sit back down and Man Behind the Counter comes back from his break, "You're still here?" he asks. Me: "Yes... someone went to lunch with my keys in their pocket." Someone walks in the door. Man Behind the Counter: "Oh! There he is! Do you have this lady's keys." New Guy: "Nope. Hector worked on that car. I never touched 'dem keys." Me: staring blankly at the two of them.

At this point I have been waiting for 2.5 hours. A third guy comes from out back with a pair of keys that are not mine and puts them in the key cabinet. As he opens the door, are you ready for this? I. SEE. MY. KEYS. SITTING. THERE. Yes. They had been in the freakin' cabinet two feet from where I was standing for an hour and a half and I had no idea. Of course, neither did the people who were actually working there. Unbelievable.

At this point I'm breaking out in a cold sweat becuase I'm afraid that The Mom has arrived home to find a dog that hasn't been walked and a dishwasher that hasn't been emptied and a house that HAS been partied in. STRESS.

I rushed home to find that, no, The Mom hasn't made it home and the dog hasn't had an accident to I rush him out, unload the dishwasher, bring in the paper and head up to collapse on my bed. No sooner had my head hit the pillow than I hear the garage door open announcing the arrival of The Mom. I barely made it.

And? To top it off? I'm not even DONE telling you about the WORST part of my weekend. Yea. It gets worse.

The Weekend Continued

You know what I did Saturday night and I came home to the girl that I live with throwing a major party. Her mom goes out of town every Saturday night to visit her boyfriend which is where I come in. The daughter doesn't want to sleep at home alone (she's too nervous) but she is not required to check in with me or let me know about her plans. It's kind of crazy, I know. So, I never know if she's out, where she is, or what time she'll be coming home. I only know that I have to be there by midnight every Saturday night. Fine.

I wake up early Sunday morning to meet my parents 1/2 way between home and CT so switch the cars. I walk downstairs to take the dog for a walk and find the kitchen in shambles. There were dinner dished from the night before, cup rings on the counter and paper towels/bags everywhere. I wasn't sure if I would make it back before the woman that I live with and I didn't know if the girl would pick up after herself so I picked up the entire kitchen before I headed north to meet my parents.

I met my parents, we had breakfast in lovely Northampton, MA and I headed back to Stamford to return the rental car. When I walked the keys in I was told that the other person's insurance company cancelled the car a week ago and I owed $270. Riiiiiiiight. I explained that I had *no* idea about that and was simply returning the car for someone else so, and actually don't even have $270 to pay for it at the moment. After a whole bunch of clicking over the keyboard the gentleman working said that he would leave a note for his manager for the morning. Thank God.

So... I call my friend who had graciously kept my car all weekend while I was doing all of this crap and asked her to pick me up at the rental place. She pulls up, and? My car has a flat tire. Really. I have no idea why it happened but we barely made it to a gas station to put air in it. I dropped her off at home and thought about my plan of action...

One of Those Weekends

I've just had one of "those" weekends and the stories are too funny/hilariously unfunny not to share with you. I'll start with Friday night.

Background story: When my family came to visit me for the weekend of my birthday we went out for drinks after returning from NYC. We all left the restaurant at the same time in two different cars. My parent's car was in front and while we were waiting at a red light two cars hit each other and then (almost in slow motion) hit my parents car. Everyone was fine, but the car was not drivable and got towed away. No car rental places were open at 10pm at night so I brought them to the hotel and picked my Dad up early the next morning to rent a car. They've had the rental car since then and got a phone call Friday at 4:10pm that they had to get their car by 5pm. In Connecticut. Have I mentioned that they live in Vermont?!?

So, I'm doing my usual Friday afternoon activities, picking up a girl in Westport after school, driving her to Stamford for ice skating lessons, going home to walk the dog, picking her up from ice skating and driving her back to Westport. I'm driving to let the dog out and my mom calls me to ask if there is any way I can get the car in the next fifty minutes. I have to pick up at ice skating at 4:50 so I RUSH home, call my (only) friend here and ask if there's any way she can come with me to get the car so she can drive my car home and I'll take my parents car. She is a saviour and said yes so we get the car and I head to Westport when my mind starts racing...

My parents had a busy weekend of working planned and I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for me to go home for the weekend, switch cars for them and drive the rental back. I called the lady that I live with and ask if it would be okay if I took the dog home with me. (Thus making the dog a non-issue over the weekend.) She says that five hours in the car is MUCH to long for her dog (even though when I interviewed she said that if I wanted to go away for the weekend I was welcome to as long as I took the dog) and that I was free to go as long as I was back by 3pm on Saturday to walk the dog. (crickets chirping)

But she did offer to call me around 1 if she was going to be home by then so I wouldn't have to rush. It's not like I would have to leave at 10am from VT to make it back here by 3. At all.

I went home Friday night at 8pm and was asleep by 8:45 to fight off the depression and angriness that I was feeling.

Barcelona

We were celebrating a faculty member's birthday tonight so a group of 10 of us headed to Barcelona, a tapas bar, in South Norwalk.  (Or, as it is affectionately called by the locals, "SoNo".)  I went with my (one) friend from school and her boyfriend and we met the rest of the group there.  (Sidenote: my friend's boyfriend is fantastic.  It started to rain on the drive so he dropped us off in front of the restaurant then went to find a parking spot.)  We ordered a couple of drinks while everyone arrived and then we started ordering the tapas.

This is where the night got crazy.

The menu is in spanish so while I was pretty confident what the "chick pea puree" and "empanadas" would look like I was less sure about the "Coca del dia."  The plates started arriving and they just kept coming so when something was in front of me that I wasn't sure about I asked everyone around if it was their's and everyone said no.  So?  I dug in.  I didn't remember ordering anything with meat, but it was really good so I just kept eating until it was gone.  Then?  The waiter brought out one lone dish... the Coca del dia.  Sh*t.  I tried to play it cool, but at this EXACT moment the girl next to me realized that she was missing her (some really spanish named) lamb.  LAMB.  It was at THIS moment that I realized that what I mistakenly thought was the Coca del dia was some kind of SPANISH. LAMB.  SPANISH!! LAMB!  That! I! ATE!  I ate the lamb.  Not only did I eat LAMB I ate SOMEONE ELSE'S lamb.  I was mortified.  

Luckily for me, the waitstaff didn't remember bringing out the lamb already so they brought out another, but omigod.  I could have died.  

Then?  The bill came.   I could go into a ton of details about it, but the bottom line is that it was $90.  On my card.  That I cannot, unfortunately, afford.  I'm going to have to deal with that tomorrow but for now?  I'm going to take this sangria'd up girl to bed. 

Shopping Blues

I had an unexpected day free today and thought that I would do a few errands and pick up some items that I have needed for a while,  (dress socks, work pants, dressy shirts that aren't collared).  I headed out this morning armed with my (really lame) shopping allowance and a coupon for 30% off at Gap thinking that it was going to be a *great* day.  I rarely have time for myself and I have not gone shopping at all since I've moved to Connecticut.  What?  I'm on a shopping hiatus.  I'm going to give grad school a big kick in the behind when the next two years are over.  

After circling the parking lot four times and missing three spots because some damn woman ran her truck up and OVER the curb four times in a row (I'm not even kidding) while trying to back into a spot, I found a spot and headed in.  I had 8 things to try on, went into the dressing room, put the first pair of pants on and... could have cried.  They looked terrible.  My thighs looked like they were mushed in there and the size of... I don't know...Texas?  And? I looked like a midget.  Seriously.  I'm only 5'3" but still... I was so discouraged that I walked out without trying anything else on and told myself that until I lose some weight, I am *not* allowed to go shopping.

Now, having had a few hours to reflect on this experience and my decision, I do realize that I overreacted.  A little.  But it does remind me that I am no longer teaching 7 Jazzercise classes a week and yes.  My body has changed since I stopped doing that.  I eat right, I really do but I need to find time to work out.  I love working out and love how I feel when I work out regularly.  I think I'm just struggling to find a happy medium.  In Vermont my entire life was devoted to working out and finding time to work out.  Here?  My life is devoted to work, grad school and making any extra money I possibly can babysitting to pay for next semesters classes.  I know it can be done, I've just got to make it happen.

Sleepless in CT

I got a phone call that I had been hoping for for a while last night around 8:30pm. I was excited when I got off of the phone and my mind was racing about the possibilities from our conversation. Of course, whether things actually pan out or not remains to be seen, but it could happen. The thought is there. I settled in to bed to watch Grey's and turned off the television at 10:08 (normal time) for bed. I fell asleep still thinking about everything and woke up to my cell phone vibrating at 2:38am. This is not unusual my friends stay up WAY later than me and text/call often. I turned off the phone and rolled over to go back to sleep.

I looked at the clock- 2:50am. I rolled over.

I looked at the clock- 3:12am. I rolled over.

I looked at the clock- 3:32am. I turned the light on, got up, went to the bathroom, turned on the tv and layed there.

I looked at the clock- 4:03am. I turned off the light, shut the tv off, and rolled over.

I looked at the clock 4:34 am. I rolled over, put my head under the pillow, thought good thoughts, spread out.

I looked at the clock. 5:08am. (I want to cry). I rolled over, shut my eyes and prayed that I would fall asleep.

5:30am- - I am woken by my alarm clock.

I hit snooze, roll over and fall asleep until 5:54am.

I'm exhausted today.

Seeing the ex-boyfriend tonight. He's in town recruiting...

Do I live in Florida?

When I moved to Connecticut I knew that come spring I would be seeing tulips at a time where were were still getting snowstorms in Vermont. I knew that there would be 67% LESS rainy days per year than Burlington, VT. I knew that I was ready to enjoy being outside a little longer each day and year.

What I DIDN'T know? Was that it was going to be November and still be 65 degrees outside. It's fall- -it's almost PAST fall and I still haven't worn a damn sweater. Today? I'm wearing a t-shirt dress with no tights. It's WARM out. The jacket that I wore is almost unseasonal. I want COOL weather. I would even settle for 45 degrees. This? Isnotfun. Fall is my favorite season and I haven't even really been able to enjoy it yet.

PSA

VOTE!

A Boring Update

I do actually have some good stories for you but that would require me to think and well... that hasn't really been happening lately. We had conferences last week so I had Friday off which was fan.tas.stic. You know how you feel when you just have an extra day to get stuff done? It was like someone gifted me an extra 16 hours to deal with all of this "stuff" that really needed to be finished.

I spent all day Friday finishing my first graduate level research paper that I happily printed when I got to work this morning. I was ambitious enough to write most of it two weeks ago so I had time to hand it in early to get reviews/revisions. We'll see how it goes- - I'm totally anxious about it, but I'm hoping that it's okay. I have a couple of more larger projects to round out the semester but now that this paper is done, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Friday night I went out with a couple of my friends from work (basically the ONLY friend that I have in CT) and we were the only two in the bar without costumes on. We're lame. We know. I don't care. I haven't done Halloween in a really long time and I like it like that.

I was sort of expecting a visitor for the weekend so I wanted to keep my schedule somewhat free but those plans fell through so instead? I babysat. All weekend long. This is what my schedule looked like:
Saturday- 8am-1pm- Babysit
2-4pm- Jazzercise Birthday Party
6-12am- Babysit

Sunday:
8-12:30pm- Babysit
2:30-5pm- Babysit

My sister's boyfriend's mom called me Sunday evening and invited me to go out to dinner with the family so even though I was already in bed at 5:30 (whatever. I was TIRED.) I got up, showered and met them around 7 to head to dinner. We went to this ridiculous Italian place in Greenwich that was fantastic but the menu was... you guess it... in Italian so I ended up with something that I didn't *love*. Oh well- - it was JUST what I needed after a kid filled weekend. Adult conversation and alcohol.