Amsterdam

My college roommate, "N," & I arrived in Amsterdam in September of '02 with no reservations (we were both studying abroad in England at the time). We got off the plane and realized that NOTHING was in English. I had my "Let's go Amsterdam" book, though, so I felt confident (Those books are great, by the way, especially if you're staying in hostels). We took the train to the city & I decided that before we worry about ANYTHING, we gotta get high.

I knew the difference between "smart shops" (where they sell mushrooms) & coffee shops (where they sell weed & coffee). I also knew how to order all of the above, courtesy of my guide book. I mention this only due to the prevalence of obnoxious American college students who shamelessly burst through the doors of a super quiet, chill coffee shop in large groups, yelling to the barista, "You sell shrooms here?" The barista would shake her head "no," and the ringleader (a frat guy in an Abercrombie t-shirt, obviously) would turn to his entourage and shout, "They don't sell shrooms here! Let's go!" And off they'd go, oblivious. The coffee shop patrons were strangers, but it was clear that they held a common understanding about this type of individual as they shook their heads in knowing disgust. This is the only time I felt ashamed to be an American while studying abroad.

Anyway, N & I found a coffee shop rather quickly, walked in and ordered ourselves an enormous joint. I remember the both prepackaged and homemade "space cakes" on the counter- little cakes with weed in them. I heard nightmares about those cakes & wouldn't try one. We got beer in this particular coffee shop & sat down with our joint & our pints on a high top table, trying to play it cool. We started smoking. We got SO. HIGH. Then N started singing show tunes. Through my laughter, I tried to bargain with her to stop: "I'll buy you dinner tonight if you stop singing." She would sing louder, with a bigger high smile across her face. I would laugh louder and up the deal. "I'll buy you a t-shirt." What occurred next stopped us both in our tracks: A large cat jumped up on the stool between us & just stared at us. We looked at each other in disbelief. N said something like, 'OMG. Do you see that cat?' I responded with something equally as intelligent such as, 'Yes. He's freaking me out.' We quickly finished our beers, put out our half-smoked joint (and saved it for later) & off we went to find a hotel (which ended up being fairly easy- you can go to this store & tell them your price range, and they'll give you random vacant room options throughout Amsterdam. It's pretty cool.).

We didn't want to stay in a hostel the first night, as we didn't know what to expect. So we stayed in a decent hotel (decent by European standards, naturally). I recall eating Italian food for dinner & smoking a lot of weed that day. Oh, and we also did all the touristy stuff- saw the Anne Frank House, the Heinekin museum, Van Gogh museum, that famous park, etc... We were also OBSESSED with the red light district. We kept walking back and forth picking our favorite girls, giggling. They would hold up signs that said, 'Girls Welcome!' We also followed some random creep on a motorcycle as he selected his gal. He made these disgusting perverted eyes at each one. We hated him. Oh, and there were some girls there that were TOTALLY under 18. It was so sad. I wanted to bring them home with me so they didn't have to f*ck such creeps for money. I'll never forget it.

1 more thing...

And I saw my new nephew & crazy SIL & little bro this wkend- AND my older bro & his new gf was there.

Remember crazy SIL's threatening messages? She was sweet as pie to my older bro's new gf. I found this amusing.

My nephew has colic & some serious baby acne-- this does NOT make for a very desirable child to be around. I genuinely feel super bad for crazy SIL & little brother. I would feel like I fell upon some SERIOUS bad luck if I had to deal w a kid that gretzy 24/7. The entire picnic, they were like, 'HERE!!!! WANNA HOLD HIM???' And promptly ran away. I can hardly blame them. I got stuck w the kid for like an hour- (I feel for the kid, too- by the way- he seemed super uncomfortable). I tried to give him his bottle, he cried. I patted his little back, he cried. When I'd rub my fingers down his cute little belly, he cried. All in all, it appears as though he takes after his Auntie M.

Late June Cleaning

So on Saturday morning, I gave the old piece of sh*t car a good clean out (to maximize its value, obviously). I've always hated that car, so I never really bothered to take care of it the way I cared for my high school car (which I loved & my brother totalled. I would still be driving it to this day).

A short list of some treasures I found:

• a cow hoof from when Lou was a puppy (4 years ago) & we'd drive back/forth to/from Pittsburgh together.
• a bone shaped like a doghnut as Hannah & I travelled to/from the vet together
• a resume-filled binder from when I was interviewing for legal internships 2 years ago
• a really old hair brush
• 3,000 hairy pennies
• 10,000 bobbypins
• 20,000 more bobbypins
• SO MANY CDs
• a lighter
• a parking receipt from some garage in Station Square, Pittsburgh.
• at least 4 empty water bottles
• countless energy bar wrappers
• small pieces of foil from the Trident gum I've been loyal to since '03.
• an article on the effects of being molested as a child
• 4 pens
• 3 pencils

Randoms

Alright, as a quick follow up from yesterday. Pictured above are my 2 brothers & their significant others (the one on the far right is now out of the picture.. in fact, I swiped this pic from her myspace. She already swirled my older brother's face in a fit of ex-gf rage--we've all been there). I wanted to give you a visual on SIL. She's the voluptuous beauty on the far left. As her SIL, I'm fully accustomed to seeing lots of boob, lots of the time- but my friends & in-laws? Not so much. So listening to my mother in law refer to her as "the... um.... busty one," cracked me up.

Anyway, I should probably acknowledge Michael Jackson & Farrah's death- but I'm still recovering from Bea Arthur & Estelle Getty. But RIP Michael & Farrah, anyway. I'm also selfishly hoping that we can now get a look at his children sans masks.

Oh, and did I mention we got a bed? For the past 3 years we've been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. I let J pick it out and this is the one we got:

I'm not too crazy about the large diamonds on the 4 posts, but....I figured if he picked out the bed, I'd be able to pick out something like... the love seat or a cool chair without having to compromise. I was sort of proud of him too- it was cute how enthusiastic he was about it.

Crazy SIL Story

Let me share a piece of "her" with you:

I forgot to mention that aside from SIL's only friends being my family, she has one, single other group of friends- my OLDER brother's ex-gfs (she is married to my littler brother, remember). My older brother ("B") cannot stand her & refuses to even acknowledge her presence at holidays. But she is constantly involved in his personal life (my little brother and I stay completely out of it- it's not our problem and for that, we are grateful).

So I was on Myspace last night, and I saw that SIL had been mesaging the mother of P (B's son). They were discussing B's new girlfriend (Can I get a WHO CARES?). Unfortunately, I can't see baby mama's responses- only SIL.

SIL: If she were within 10 feet of my son, I'd have no choice but to beat her. If she's not careful and I have to "run into her"...we'll have issues. I can;t stand crazy people. I can tolerate a lot but there are two types of people that I can't. Lazy and crazy. I don't know how you stomach it!

Let us all pause to appreciate the irony in this "lazy-crazy" statement.

Her next statement was: LOL! Did you know that I almost broke up with (little brother) when we were first dating because (B's son) was calling him "Dad"? He swore he wasn;t but I was so concerned! Here I am in high school thinking he's a father neglecting and denying his son! I mean the resemblance was crazy! Hahaha! I still tease P that he had the biggest baby crush on me. This will come in handy when he starts dating himself. There is nothing more embarrassing than his date finding out his first crush was his Aunt! LOL!

This paragraph is replete with lies. She hasn't seen my nephew (P, the older one), since Xmas. She doesn't attend any holidays & is completely silent whenever she does attend an event- they have no relationship at all. Nor did my nephew ever call the wrong person "Dad."

Do you KNOW how hard it is for me not to say something? UGH! I cannot stand this whore.

What's Been Up

Featured below is my too-cool-for-school golden. I think it's beyond cool how she chews her bone like she's smoking a cigarette while kicking her soccer ball around. I've always wanted a homosexual child, and my lesbian golden retriever might be as close as I come in this life.... (aside from my decidedly lesbian beagle).


But things have not been looking up for my dear Han-Han. We've been nursing her back to health after she was spayed (she also had a gastroplexy- look it up, if you're curious). Since the surgery, I have felt a lot like the mother to 2 children with severe disabilities. I'm constantly breaking up fights between Lou & Han, dealing with Hannah's separation anxiety (she can't climb steps & we only have bathrooms on the 2nd floor), remembering pills, keeping Lou from sniffing Hannah's trillion stitches, etc... It goes on All. Day. Long.

Aside from that drama, I gots my class in the morning. It is SO HARD to study after having been in class from 9am-1pm. I don't even know why. Today I grabbed sushi from the grocery store (I'm the opposite of a sushi snob) on my way home- it was made w brown rice & had sesame seeds all around it. Halfway through the roll I started to feel ill. The rice was overcooked & chewy & the sesame seed flavor was overwhelming. It tasted like a big ball of peanut butter.

I'm beginning to think that white rice and seaweed is the only way to go.

Boo

So I'm kind of bummed today. This woman's blog that I followed for quite sometime ended. I found myself not even liking her that much.

She was SUPER born-again Christian- to the point of arrogance (which is decidedly un-Christian, no?). Nonetheless, she believed in only wearing long skirts, extreme modesty in clothing ( no make up, crew neck long sleeved shirts, etc.... yawn), not letting her kids wear bathing suits (instead they wore like wetsuits), femininity (obeying your husband, never voicing a contrary opinion, thinking gay people are the devil), extended breast feeding (vomit) & co-bedding (vomit) & wrote things like, 'My Dearest Emma, You love mommy's milk.' And Emma was like 5. (or 2. Same difference). And she seemed super afraid of the world & hated people who had the audacity to let their children run over her children at the playground. I mean... I'm talkin' shiz that just ain't me. Oh, the worst part is that she didn't believe in VACCINATING HER KIDS- I have a HUGE problem w this belief/fear. Modern medicine is all good in the form of your multi-vitamin that enables you to have a million healthy babies, but god forbid letting others' have healthy babies once your spawn catches the measles.

But I found her intriguing. I couldn't look away. I'm aware that if her perception of eternity is correct, I am damned to hell. But I'm also aware that her life sucks- well, maybe it doesn't: She dreams of living on theLittle House on the Praire set, while I dream of living my own life - err, rather, a parallel life where I win the lottery, work for leisure only & experience no hardship. I don't enjoy challenges. At least not recently.

Anyway, I was sad to see her go.

If I sound negative these days, it's because I'm in a rut. I didn't intend for this blog to turn into a place to vent my disdain for others. I really like people, I do. But I like people who believe in vaccinations a lot more.

Failure

So remember my disclaimer in which I claimed I was attempting to remedy my relationship w SIL1 (my brother's wife)? I failed.

I called my aunt & we had an hour long slam slam session on SIL1. Ya see.... after studying last evening, I innocently sign onto facebook & myspace. Only to find that SIL's Myspace message states, "Did my marraige vows include the word ETERNITY?" Her facebook message stated, "Why is the right thing to do always the hardest?" As the sister of her husband (her husband who takes primary care of this baby, despite that she quit her job to be a "stay at home mom"), I found this irritating. But I kept quiet (ok, well, I only told J. And we had a mini slam session on how big of a b*tch she is- considering 75% of her facebook friends are MY family who she barely knows- since she literally has 2 friends- remember, I was her maid of honor? Do I sound like a good maid of honor?). Then this morning, her facebook message stated, "It's father's day... does that mean I FINALLY get a day off?"

The truth: My brother JUST went back to work last Monday. He had been doing the night shifts w the newborn. SIL had been sleeping through the night & doing day shift (which consisted of doing nothing w the baby - who was still nocturnal- and lunching w her friends). Every week of that baby's life, my mom has babysat for 5+ hours at a time at least 3 days a week. Her mother had been doing the same. This amounts to approximately ONE full day with the baby.

I may sound overly sensitive, but it appears to me that she's conducting an online smear campaign against my brother - to HIS family. She friended my aunt on facebook (foolishly) & my aunt, unbeknownst to me, had also begun to follow her status updates. Suffice it to say- we had plenty to talk about.

I'm not saying that motherhood is easy- I'm sure it's super hard. Especially with a newborn. But is talking sh*t on your husband the answer? He's not online, so he has no clue what she writes. He called me yesterday to say 'hi,' oblivious. He wanted me to hear his son making baby noises. I asked where SIL was & he said she was out w her friends. It sounds like this b*tch gets more breaks than most new mothers....

I would also like to add that I got WAAY too drunk at their wedding. To the point where people talk about it/bring out pictures, I leave the room. I didn't mean to get that drunk & I have no idea how it happened. I recently saw a "never before seen" picture from that dreaded day: I was dirty dancing w, like, an 8th grader. I have no clue who this kid is. The Blind: Please don't comment. This is a more sensitive topic to me than my 7th grade make out session.

Snuggles,

M.

A Shameful Moment

In junior high, I went to the movies with my now maid of honor ("N") & some others who I don't know. We never actually went into the movies, but walked around & were up to no good. This was a rough time (in retrospect only). I was ugly & awkward. We told N's dad that we'd be seeing some rated G movie about a soccer team. Big Green, maybe? Who knows. Anyway, that was the plan. We ended up meeting up w these dudes a year older than us. I recall only a few details: it was warming up (late spring, maybe?), I was wearing a windbreaker of some sort & a teal bra. Earlier that evening we were sitting in N's room, which I vividly remember. Anyway, at the movies, we were standing in a semi-circle when this guy lightly rubbed his leg against mine. I wanted to make out with him.

Evidently, he felt the same way because he immediately said, "Come here, I wanna show you something." So I follow. We walk behind the dumpsters (totally romantic) & he goes, "Oh, here it is: I've found it." And starts to kiss me. It was my first non-spin the bottle french kiss. And it was also the sloppiest kiss ever. I remember stopping for a moment and feeling like my entire face was covered in saliva. His was too. Totally gross. We had been making out for like 20 seconds when I feel his hand reach up my shirt (only to find nothing...) & then attempt to unbutton my jeans. I immediately stopped him. He begged. I told him he wasn't my boyfriend so that wasn't going to happen. He then asked me out. I still said no & we emerged from behind the theater & N's dad was waiting in his car. He asked why we were by the dumpsters & how the movie was. We mumbled some lies, hoping that would be the end of the questioning. It was.

Me & this kid began dating (He was popular at this time... this was his 15 minutes of fame...probably for the rest of his life).... for 1 week. We made out at the buses a few times (super huge thing to do in junior high- GOD, don't you just hate jr high kids? So lame). We broke up the next Saturday when I refused his attempts to go further than 2nd base. I was a prude, what can I say? Especially since there was a rumor out there that he put his finger in some girl's butt. This relationship was becoming more stressful than it was worth. Upon our break up, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief and freedom. Oddly, in my young life, this relief/freedom combo was EXACTLY the way I felt when ALL my relationships ended. I recall my friends with broken hearts, longing to re-date their ex. Not me! I usually strung the ole' ex along, only to re-date and re-dump them a little bit later.

I'm gonna go ahead & say this was a result of coming from a broken home or something. Or extreme prudeness in my early life.

Note: If you are reading & know the name of this loser, please don't repeat it to me in person or on this blog... or anywhere in my presence. I'm too ashamed!

Glasses

As I decided to ease up my negativity for the day, I caught Hannah eating my new sunglasses.





The Positive: They were only fromt Target.





The Negative: They were $10 more than my hot H&M shades that broke in my bag.





I like my sunglasses like I like my b*tches: cheap. Hehe.





As I'm newly on the market for sunglasses, I did a bit of research.





I'm thinking about these from Urban:

Unsure.

Nap time.

I've learned

In my life, no news is not "good news." In fact, no news is usually bad news that you have not yet received. In my quest for optimism, I must remember this.

Back in the day, I worked for some d-bag attorney who hired me "under the table." I was an aspiring lawyer. Yawn. Fast forward 5 years later, I'm about to take the bar. The bar application asks if I've ever not filed a tax return (or something along these lines). As they're looking for honesty, I confessed my transgression & explained that I would file a tax return for 2004 ASAP. I hired an accountant & did just this. Ladies & Gents, it wasn't pretty. I had to pay New York State AND Federal taxes-- A total of about $2500. And this did not include interest. I wrote a pity letter, explaining that I was young & dumb (very true) & did not realize I was working under the table until I never received a w-2 (also true). I moved shortly after I stopped working there because I graduated from college (true) &, as I never did my own taxes before (true), it never occured to me that I had to file taxes DESPITE never receiving a w-2 (mostly true).

Anyway, I hadn't heard from the IRS....until Saturday. I owe another $2000 by July 6. Lucky me, right?

Urgh. I mean, I know I had it coming. But who didn't work under the table as a high school or college student?

I feel very depressed about this financial expenditure. I'm actually contemplating becoming a fiscal Conservative (completely separate from the Sarah Palin & religious right bullsh*t), since Republicans are at least averse to raising taxes... Although, on the flip side, I feel as though I will be needing the Democrats' welfare program, so perhaps I should re-think any drastic change in political party affiliation.

Woe is me.

Nephews

Here they are.... it appears as though I collected 2 of them. Oddly, I haven't yet fallen in love with the baby, ("C"), yet. It was love at first sight w the handsome 8 year old ("P"). I feel confused & guilty about this dichotomy.

Nonetheless, I attended cute-bottomed P's baseball game yesterday. Again, when I fail the bar, remind me of this. Whilst at the game, I fell IN LOVE with his chubby little teammate, "Xander," pictured below. I absolutely love chubby little boys. How cute is he??

For the record- I didn't intend to take this picture- my nephew is the kid on 3rd base (pictured slightly to the right). Xander walked in front of my cell phone, but I didn't mind.

Back to procrastinating.... Happy Sunday! I got the Sunday blues...

PMS

Today, I'm grumpy & tired. I felt fine after my coffee. But it went downhill from there.

Remember when you were young and had to live w your crazy mom? Remember how you knew the MOMENT she had PMS? I promised myself a few years ago that I would be (a) rational or (b) self-aware enough to know when I was being irrational & then apologize ASAP. I *think* that most of the time I remain sane & chipper. But sometimes I'll feel myself slip.

For example, J will ask, "M, where are the scissors?" Instead of saying, "In the drawer," I will respond, "Pause for a moment. If there were scissors ANYWHERE in the house, where do you think they might be?" J will pause & respond, "In the drawer." "BINGO!" I exclaim. And I usually don't apologize after this because I feel genuinely annoyed. Is this b*tchy? I remain on the fence.

Another tell tale sign I have PMS is I don't like to be touched by the dogs. Hannah will lay a little too close to my legs & Lou will keep rubbing back and forth on my shins as I sit at my desk. I get the creeps, kick Hannah out of the room & tell Lou to stop touching me.

I am the stuff out of which terrible mothers are made.

Sister-in-Laws

I have the WORST luck w sister-in-laws. It baffles me, as I consider myself truly a girl's girl & easy going. I've NEVER had trouble making friends.
My Brother's Wife (SIL 1)

Disclaimer: I'm working very hard on making this relationship work.

When they first started dating, I was in college & didn't give their relationship much thought. She seemed nice, innocent, easy going. I liked her because... why wouldn't I? And anyway, who cares, right? Then on a short plane ride to check out law schools, my mom informs me that she's beginning to suspect SIL 1 is clinically insane. SIL 1 was telling my brother she was secretly diagnosed with breast cancer & was hiding it from everyone, including her parents (Note: During her "chemo therapy" sessions, she was living at home, on her parents' insurance, & had a full head of hair). My brother was so worried he needed to tell someone. My mom was skeptical, as SIL 1 was at her house every single night by 6 and staying until 11:30 pm & did NOT look ANYTHING like someone who was undergoing intensive chemo-therapy. When my mom confronted SIL 1 about it, SIL 1 looked like a deer in headlights, stammering & explaining to my mom that she won an award for being the youngest cancer survivor at the hospital. Not a smart move because (a) my mom works at that very hospital & (b) my mom has also, believe it or not, heard of CHILDREN getting CANCER!

This lie snow-balled into mroe elaborate lies: The following Xmas, she told me that she was a stripper at 15 & had her own "private room" at the local strip club. I immediately told my OTHER brother, who informed me that that particular local strip club doesn't HAVE private rooms (nothing but class, all the way...). She also told me that at that time she became pregnant with a patron's baby, had a serious drug addiction (that she magically recovered from without incident) & currently was partying very hard behind my brother's back & "doing drugs." I bet that biotch has never even seen a joint. Interestingly enough, when it came time for them to get married, she asked ME to be her maid of honor. Awkard? Affirmative.

It's difficult to keep it real with someone who corners you at every holiday filled with such stories. I didn't REALLY mind... I mean, around this time, I showed up to every holiday stoned anyway. What can I say? But I always wished she were cooler. Like, someone I could have a real convo with. Because my brother rules.

SIL 2-

J's dreaded sister. She's 5 years older than me, painfully single. I liked her at first. We chatted on the phone, I felt like maybe she was misunderstood (her family is NOT among her biggest fans, J included). Until she began to make extraordinarily rude comments to me. I would tease my nephew, he would laugh (getting the joke), & SIL 2 would loudly ask, "M..... uhh.... why are you lying to a young child?" Yeah. How the f*ck do you respond to THAT one.

At a wedding, one of J's aunts was describing to me her breast cancer diagnosis when SIL 2 walks up & asks me to leave so that she may speak in private to her aunt (rolling her eyes at me). I drunkenly stumbled away, unaffected.

She also corners me at every holiday, telling me why she's so f*cked up: her dad isn't interested in her (while J's dad sitting 3 feet away!!!!), she has vague memories of being molested & nobody cares (bullsh*t), her dad hated her uneducated boyfriend so she broke up with him (15 years ago...) & she now realizes that this was her one true love (umm... yeah). She had J & I uninvited for dinner the last time she was home. For realz? I can handle the psychological melodrama but I canNOT handle the rudeness. So I stopped answering her calls.

Anyway, maybe it IS me. Maybe I'm asking for too much- in wanting a cool SIL that I can be friends with. Come to think of it, my quality of life was better when I showed up to holidays stoned & didn't give these random chicks a second thought. Damn my drug free, adult self!

And These Other Kids...

I also used to babysit for this family with 2 boys: Dylan & David (who, oddly, are now like 21 and 19). It was a young Jewish family & they were super, super friendly. They lived in my neighborhood, always ate Vienetta, & hung large, framed Ansel Adams pictures around their house. David had a serious overbite.

One evening, I found myself in need of a tampon, so I went into the bathroom & looked under the sink. She had a box full of what appeared to be tampons (long, thin, wrapped in white paper- standard). So I open one up, and inside is not a cotton tampon, but METAL. I wish I had a better visual of it. I decided she might be a robot. I started to panic. Were they spying on me? Would she know I knew her secret? Where was I going to put this opened metal tampon? After examining for an extended period of time, I stuffed it in my coat pocket to deal with later, sweating profusely....& still in need of a tampon.

To this day, I don't know if this is a special KIND of tampon (??), or something to clean out the drain with? If you have a clue: please advise. It's been 13 years, and I remain on the proverbial edge of my proverbial seat.

Anyway, the only other drawback of babysitting for this fam was the fact that she would try to have girl talk with me on the way home. These days, when someone, anyone wants to discuss child birth, periods, cramps, boobs- I'm on board: "How bad are your cramps? Have you ever thrown up? Did you find them to be worse than giving birth? Did you have a C-Section or natural birth? One of my college roommates gave birth in a hot tub! How big are your boobs?" But those days-- I was a bit more reserved. And I felt violated by these talks.

I vividly recall her walking me home at dusk, stating, "And soon you're gonna start going through changes ("& start wearing metal tampons?" I wondered), boys will be involved, and you'll have to start making seroius decisions..." & "Child-birth hurt very badly. Much worse than I thought it would."

At the time I couldn't get away from her fast enough, but these days, I kind of feel like we could be best friends. I'd have a million questions.....

Babysitting

So back in junior high, I baby sat like for like a million families & I believe that I genuinely enjoyed it and grew particularly fond of the kids. Especially one girl named Caitlin who had two brothers and was always up to no good. She reminded me of myself in a way.

I baby-sat for this particular family very regularly. I got the gig because our mothers worked together (which makes the ending of this story all the more painful and embarassing). At one point I was watching them every Wednesday evening because the mother worked second shift & the dad worked until probably about 630. Wednesdays were a half day for the school district, so I'd go over at like 2 and watch them until 630-700 or so. This went on for years. Until I was fired.

I hit an age- 14-15 maybe? Where I liked talking on the phone too much. So I arranged for the kids to watch a movie/play video games (they were older kids-- like 7, 9, 11 or something) while I chatted on the phone to some unnamed friend- no clue who. I know some ridiculous jr high drama was occurring & I, like, needed to talk on the phone with all these people to secure my place in the social world. Well, probably about 2 hours later, I get off the phone. It starts ringing. I pick it up and an angry (understandably so) mother is on the other end explaining to me how worried she had been for the past 2 hours. I hem & haw, making up a half excuse & apologize, PETRIFIED that she would tell my mom & I would be busted. She asked to talk to the oldest kid & I heard him tell her that I was on the phone.

After he got off the phone with her, I asked him why he told his mom. This kid is a boy scout-- I think I checked him out on MySpace during HIS senior year of high school & he posted a picture of himself wearing his super high ranking boy scout uniform (to give you an indication of how this kid probably felt about lying to his own, dear mother). He said to me, "M, it's true. You were talking on the phone for a long time." I obviously had no response.

The dad came home at the usual time & drove me home. I can't recall if he gave me a lecture or anything. I don't think so. He was very kind & very non-confrontational. (I recently found out that years after my babysitting experiences with them he went crazy- had all sorts of delusions about people spying on him/following him & had to take a leave of absence from his very good job. I feel really bad about this & hope that he has fully recovered).

Anyway, they never called me back. And, to make matters worse, they never told my mom. Obviously, neither did I. My mom never questioned it probably because I was getting older & less interested in watching other people's children and more interested in my own life. Either way, though, I always felt bad about the way things ended with this family because I really, truly liked them.

Yet Another Rant

I affirmatively decided to attend law school while working for the biggest f*cking b*tch I've ever met. I was very broke & very miserable & at that time, in a lukewarm relationship & to earn my sh*tty salary, I had to put up with some unbelievable abuse. Abuse sounds like a strong word, but in retrospect, I've concluded that that is precisely what her behavior amounted to. So, PH, I hope you are miserable &, frankly, maybe even physically ill, wherever you may be.

So I realized I might as well have a job where I make some money. Enter law school. The first year I worked my a$$ off. And the 2nd yr too. My grades were really good. I worked 2 jobs during the first summer out- both were awesome: 1 as an extern for a federal court judge & a 2nd as a waitress. I also landed an awesome gig after my 2nd yr resulting in an offer (which I totally loved). But it was downhill from there. My 3rd year f*cking sucked. I ran out of steam. I did whatever I had to do to get by- & begrudgingly- So even minimal work felt terribly hard. I was tired of missing out on things like Xmas parties (because that is finals time) & Mother's Day brunches (also finals time-- & I even hate Mother's Day!) & regular brunches with mimosas (bc I had to study later on that day!). I didn't want August off-- I wanted/want my life back during the rest of the year! I want weekends. My bitterness increased with the passing months. Every time I took the day off or attended a social event- in my mind I was "not studying." Or getting behind on homework-- which takes weeks to catch up on unless you pull a super long day. Miserable. The guilt is the worst.

My only happiness was the 6 day window between my last final & the day this bar class began. It's pretty f*cking pathetic when you are excited when the contractor building your porch informs you that you need to make a trip to Loew's to purchase a deadbolt. That happened to me this morning. I ecstatically drove to Loew's, Target, Manhattan Bagel. As my car neared my home- where books, practice exams, & the dullest of subjects.. anxiously awaited my glossed over eyes & deadened spirit, I drove more slowly, wondering if my life would ever again amount to something more than dread & disbelief at that future exam which lay before me.