Country Girl Vs. City Girl

For the vast majority of my life...I have lived in the country.

It's where I feel comfortable. It's my home. It's lovely.

Sure, I was born in the city. Well - let me rephrase that. I was born in the "city" - I'll use that term loosely - as the place I was born is preeeeetty small (now it's BOOMING and it's population is above 70,000) and its demographic is just...weird. The saying goes that this town is "nearly wed or nearly dead"...and being a town with a university and a college - as well as about 178 nursing homes..it rings fairly true.

That being said - I moved outside of this "city" when I was 5. Returned when I was 17 for some schoolin' and have bopped back and forth since. It's not like it's THAT far away - my parents farm is only 20 minutes from the university.

Recently though, I've been staying at my cousins house in town..and it's a little bizarre.

When I lived in town before...I lived in residence on campus - which is unlike anything else in itself.

Then I lived in a house where our backyard basically merged with a giant field.

Next I moved to an apartment on the 7th floor of a building where all you could see was other apartments, where we generally kept our blinds closed as to not end up being creeped by people like the characters on Friends.

Now though - I'm in a very residential area.

It's friendly - it's cute.

But man...it's weird.

I'm so use to being like...la la la...I'm standing on my deck and can't see or hear anyone...whereas at their house...I'll go outside to sit on the deck...and there is someone else on their back deck looking at me...a kid in the yard nextdoor eating bugs and an old man duct taping his house back together (True story. Really happens. Not even joking a little bit.)

When I was little...we had two neighbours - both of who were (in city language) probably a block or two away from us. Down LONG rural driveways on the opposite side of the road. Unless we biked to see them in the summer - we couldn't just be all HOWDY NEIGHBOUR! Infact we never saw them unless we made the effort to see them, or yanno, saw them driving down our long backroad.

It's odd to get into your car first thing in the morning and wave to everyone else in suburbia as they also head off to start their day. Or collect the mail and bring in the recycling bins as everyone else on the street is doing it too.

To actively know stuff about your neighbours - when you've never met them.

And then get UBER creeped out because they probably know stuff about you - EVEN THOUGH THEY'VE NEVER MET YOU EITHER.

This city living thing is okay - but I'm not convinced it's for me.

Give me some neighbours I can wave to when we pass on the road, some fencelines and trees seperating us...not being able to know what anyone else is having for dinner without asking...and hanging out your laundry without wondering who is watching you...and I'm good.

AKA - A few acres, a cute little house..and neighbours off in the distance.

Yeah - I'm down.

Artsy Fartsy

I'm really not artsy.

I can appreciate a good painting, photograph or other artistic endeavor. I enjoy going to musicals and plays and the like. I like reading good books, this is true.

But I am not artsy in the artsy way.

You know the way I'm talking about.

The way where everything has this deep rooted symbolism behind it...or it's just something that doesn't really seem to make much sense..but yet certain people go absolutely CRAZY over it.

Anywho - I went to this artsy preformance with a friend a little while ago. A friend whose parents had given us the tickets. Free tickets? Free anything? Sign. Me Up. Because...well...why not?

So we went..and were interested to see what it was all about. The first dance act was interesting and rather beautiful - I saw the symbolism which I can only guess was on a fairly rudimentary level. Plus, the dancing was beautiful and it was nice.

And then there was the second act.

Which was so artsy, my mind couldn't wrap itself around it...and my senses were screaming for it to stop.

I'm sorry...and excuse my ignorance...but WHAT exactly is the symbolism of two men holding hands and moving their other hands around as if they're windmills? To an old man with a raspy, awful smokers voice...singing the exact same 6 words over and over again...the entire time. Ten minutes later (or maybe it just felt like it was ten minutes?), they finally stopped windmilling..and continued doing some other random moves. Like rolling around. And bunching themselves into balls and lying there. And then there was MORE WINDMILLING. Over and over and over again. To the Exact. Same. Six. Words.

And I just really didn't get it. And maybe it's because I couldn't move myself beyond the "music"...but holy cannoli...what the HECK was it?

And then - it ended. I breathed a sigh of relief.

And all around me...people were applauding, and cheering...and WHISTLING. And the dancers just took it in, bowed and smiled as if to say...'I know, isn't it just the greatest thing that you've ever seen?'

And the people around us ate it up...while we looked at each other in disbelief wondering what parallel universe we had transported ourself to.

The entire place was filled with a buzz about how ah-ma-zing the last dance was and how they just couldn't believe it...and I sat there going...oh..my god. What's wrong with me? Why don't I get it? I had the distinct feeling that if I got up on the stage and started waving my arms around like a windmil I would be immeadiate boo'd off and ushered out of the building...so what was I missing that these two guys had done that I just didn't GET?

So now I'm stuck with this quandry...where I feel a little bit stupid for admitting that I didn't *get* it like all of these other people did...and I'm left wondering what exactly the other people GOT.

After the show...I was waiting around for a few minutes..and couldn't help but hear people chitter chatter about it. They all seemed to be of the same persuasion..that it was amazing, great, wonderful, striking, etc. etc. etc. But no one said one specific thing about HOW it was amazing or what EXACTLY was amazing...just that it WAS. Well, except for a little girl who while walking by said "and then they hugged - that was pretty funny.." That was the closest I got to understanding the preformance...despite listening in on a whole lotta conversations. No one ever pinpointed what was great or how it was great...just used a bunch of abstract terms smushed together to convey that it was somehow amazing..in a general sense. And the general consensus was that the other two dances (the ones I really enjoyed) were nice, they were okay...but were too simplistic...and didn't TOUCH them like the second one had...yet again...being very vague about what exactly was so touching and wonderful. The whole thing kinda bugged me and got a little under my skin, because i just wanted to know WHAT was so GREAT about the second preforamnce. In case you weren't aware...I'm a REALLY SUPER CURIOUS PERSON.

This all led me to wonder how many people ACTUALLY got what the coreographer was REALLY trying to convey..and wondering just how many were simply playing along...and how many were just as "what WAS that?" in the dark as I was.

It's funny because so often I wonder if people are just putting on this big act - and the other night was such a classic example.

As we left..my friend commented on how that was a very 'artsy' event for a very distinct crowd...and I couldn't help but agree and continue to wonder...was it me? Am I just shallow and unable to see the deeper meaning behind this supposedly beautiful work of art? Why don't I see what this artsy crowd sees? Am I shallow or dumb? What was it?

...Or was some coreographer dude laughing away in his penthouse suite in absolute disbelief that people continue to pay a relatively large amount of GOOD money to see this dance that really was inspired by a drug induced haze?

I'm apt to believe the later.

But that's just me..and as I said before...I'm not artsy.

At least not in that...erm...artsy...way.

Bites of Heaven

One of my Swiss girls sent me an email today.

The one who co-incidentally was from the same small town that I am from. It's funny, because despite knowing multiple people in common and frequenting similar coffee shops/restaurants/farmers markets/stores/etc. we'd never met here, back home.

Instead, she was forwarded an email from me that I'd sent to a mutual acquaintance and already knew a great deal about my life in Switzerland before she'd even arrived or ever made contact with me. We were both shocked to find that we were from the same small town when we met in Zürich (and it wasn't until later that she realized I was the same girl whose emails she had read..ha!) because we co-incidentally both happened to stumble upon and work for the same, very small, aupair agency in a small suburb outside of the city.

ANYWHO.

She rambled on about what was new, how we needed to meet up and her plans for life for the next little while.

And then she started talking about things she missed, but mostly..she was talking about the Luxembergerli.


Jenn in front of the Confiserie Sprüngli at Stadelhofen



The delish luxembergerli in the flesh.


Oh how my tummy longs for them. We'd buy the worlds smallest quantities because A) We were super poor and they were super expensive... thus we couldn't afford any more than one or two on our salaries..ha. B) If you bought more than one or two you'd end up eating them all. In a matter of a very short period...and then you'd explode. And you'd probably think that it was still worth it...because yes, they are THAT good.

At this point, I just couldn't help myself. I turned into Pavlov's dog...and basically started salivating while reading her email. She talked about how she missed them so much and how she was so tempted to order some off of the internet once she had enough money. I had tried for so long not to think about them. I'd thought about the kids, the mountains, the cheese, the trains, the views, the chocolate, the music, the 200 dollar bills that made you feel rich...but I had refused to let myself think about the luxembergerli.

So what did I do?

Your darn right I went directly to the Sprüngli website and didn't pass go.

My heart did a double take as I remembered Swiss pricing. But then I remembered the sweet delicious taste of the luxembergerli. Their light, fluffy creamy inside..with their flaky yet not pastry-like outside. The way they melted on your tongue..and the flavours. Oh the flaaaaaavours. Raspberry, Chocolate, Vanilla, Champagne...Strawberry, Lemon, Stracciatella, Mocca, Lime - DOUBLE CHOCOLATE. The list goes on and on and on and then on some more. You walk into the Confiserie and all you see spread before you is a delicious feast of multi-coloured bites of heaven. The strawberry rhubarb though? Yeah - they take the cake..or in this case..the luxembergerli. Just the right amount of sweet, just the right amount of tart...and an extra dose of awesome..just in case.

I tried to recover from the fact that they wanted 45chf (basically par with the Canadian/American dollar) for the SMALL container of the little bites of heaven. PLUS SHIPPING. But all my mind could think about was how much I loved them. How much I missed them. How just one little bite would mean I could magically take myself back there for an instant - So I recovered from my near heart attack..and I had almost stopped caring how much they would cost. I went as far as to go to the order page and fill out information. I wanted NEEDED one. And since I couldn't order ONE...a box would HAVE to do.

Until I realized that they don't ship them outside of Switzerland.

Grrr.

Stupid Switzerland.

Stupid Sprüngli

Stupid little bites of amazingly delicious bites of heaven taunting me from across the ocean with their perishable nature.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.




..And just because I hadn't made myself swisssick enough already today..



The view from the house I lived in. The sun setting over the Zürisee..

CuddleBugs

Life has been crazy.

I haven't been making enough time for the people I love, or the people that love me.

I know this. There are future updates about my thoughts, worries and paranoia about this to come.

But for now..let's just say that I did a little catching up tonight. With friends who are dear to my heart where I was able to indulge in some yummy food and was subsequently showered in love by a little boy who always seems to make me smile..no matter what.

I was told that I'm never allowed to leave the country again, should never have a boyfriend unless it was him and then I was cuddled because I am the "berry best cuddlebug in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD". After that I was given a bajillion kisses and sang a song about how I am the very best auntie Erin in the whoooooooole world...which ended with a whole bunch of high pitched seranades describing how awesome I am.

Five year olds know where it's at. It being me, of course.

I can't believe that he's five. What happened to the little four pound imp I held at the hospital and was so scared of breaking? How did that little fella grow into this big boy who's gaining inches on me as I stare in disbelief and can't believe how tall he's getting. How is it possible that he knows his full address? That he can count to a bajillion and has a half a dozen girlfriends wherever he goes? (I'm his favourite - duh.) I don't know where the time has gone and he's grown up so much...it seems like yesterday when he took his first steps, when his only words were '(tr)ucks' and 'big (tr)ucks'..when strangers were scary...and cuddles and a popsicle could cure all of lifes woes. Those times stretching so far into the past these days...makes me so scared for the days when he pulls away from my goodnight kisses, when he won't hold my hand anymore and when he tells me that girls are yucky. Because, well, I'm not sure if you know this...but, well...I'm kinda a girl...and if girls are yucky..then that means he might think that I'M yucky...and then that will just plain old break my little heart.

For now I guess I'll just have to take my cuddles where I can get them, kiss him extra for when he's a teenager and he's too cool to come within ten feet of me and take lots of pictures to remind me of when he was so little, so sweet and the cutest little guy that I ever did see.

I need more times like this. Times that make my heart so happy...and I get my very own cute as can be cuddlebug.



Why can't boys MY age that are actually within boyfriend range be this sweet and cute? Write me songs about how much they love me and want to cuddle, offer up their hard earned pennies and dimes (erm - in the lil fella's case - it was...literally...pennies..and dimes) to treat his date (ME! :O) to dinner. Stupid life! Boys suck. Unless they're five. Then I love them.

Ugh...on that note..it's bedtime...because that's a whole other can of worms that is a completely different post for a completely different sleepless night.

Science Schmience

My strengths do not lie in Science.

That my friends, is a fact. They just don't. I can chit chat to anyone. I love to read and devour books. I can find my way through strange cities where I don't speak the langauge. I am caring, compassionate and I hope that despite my sometimes scattered nature, the sometimes what-the-heck-is-she-talking-about confusion that my presence causes...I am a good person.

But I am not good at Science.

I can understand some basic principles - sure.

I can follow most scientific blabber - at an elementary level.

But when my VERY scientifically minded cousins start discussing drug resistant anit-bodies for HIV pathogens in the large intestine...I'm mostly lost.

Or when they start talking about the rumen of a cow and the nitrogen levels that exist within it....my eyes begin to glaze over. But just a little. And, erm, in the...good way.

So you have to excuse me for my complete and utter ignorance of most things scientific.

Except that I have discovered something that I'm sure has broken some huge, ginormous, monumental scientific law..somewhere. I'm SURE of it. It must have something to do with Einstein, Newton or Descartes. And maybe it has to do with relativity or perhaps it is gravity or the speed of light. I'm not really sure because, well, like I already told you - I don't DO science..but I assure you...it IS something BIG.

You see - in each day we have 24 hours. And within each of those 24 hours there are sixty minutes. And there are sixty seconds within each of those minutes. And each one is EXACTLY and PRICISELY the same distance apart from each other.

Scientific fact - right?

WRONG - It WAS a scientic fact - until NOW that is.

You see - they all SEEM exactly alike - and to the naked eye..they are. But look closely - especially when these hours, minutes and seconds are inbetween times when you've pressed the 'snooze' button on your alarm clock... (I PROMISE if you do this...you too will discover what my great scientific mind has already discovered...)It seems that that time when you're snooze button is activated is WAY shorter than it says it is. For REAL.

True story. I gaurentee it.

I hereby offically give this theory my scientific stamp of approval.

And yes, those really are the first thoughts that pop into my head as I groan and turn off my snooze button and drag my butt outta bed far too early on a Saturday morning to tutor a far too peppy seven year old.

Definitions

On the ride home from the airport the other day..my cousin and I were discussing our degrees..or rather..the lack of use-age of our degrees.

She has a degree in Life Sciences. And after she finished this...she spent five years in South Africa getting her Veterinarian qualifications. She's now moved back to Canada and while her husband continues his education and is specializing in a specific vet practice, she's staying at home to take care of her aging father who suffers from Alzheimers.

I on the other hand have a double major in History and Psychology. Oh - and before you point out how virtually useless that degree from my perfectly respectable university is.....I also have a Bachelors degree in Education. Useful in the practical sense - I think yes.

Unless of course..you're me.

Because if you're me..then you still don't really know what you're doing with your life. You've got it generally figured out - at least until anyone asks you a question pertinant to the real world and your position in it - and then you just stare at them gasping like a fish out of water.

Now this cousin and I were discussing how completely ridiculous it is that people judge us for our choices. People who think that she should put her father in a home and get a "real" job. (I dare you to even try to spend a day doing what she does - seriously one of the most difficult and heart wrenching things to have to go through EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.) And of course...the people who ask me if I've secured a teaching position yet - and try not to gasp when I tell them I haven't even glanced at the job postings.

From the time I was a little girl...everytime I turned around..someone told me I would be a wonderful teacher. I was so good with children, I have so much patience....and on and on and on. And when I volunteered in schools, teachers would write my reference letters and tell me how I had so much potential and how wonderful I would do. Once in teachers college, my professors praised my ideas and gave me glorious feedback of my teaching abilities.

But still - I wanted more. It made me happy, I loved it..yes...and it was something I was passionate about..that I AM passionate about...but I just couldn't see myself doing that for the rest of my life...at TWENTY TWO. There were too many places, too many things that I loved and wanted to explore for me to settle down.

When I left for Zurich I thought that in a year I would come back, find myself a teaching job and settle down.

But something happened - something changed.

I realized that just because I had all of these degrees, that just because people told me it was something I was good at, that just because that's the way that I or other people had pictured my life path going...it wasn't necessarily the right reason to do something.

What it all boiled down to...was that how we each defined our lives wasn't dependant on how many degrees we have. Or what we're doing with them now..it's that we both feel GOOD about our lives and where we are..and know what we won't have regrets and that we are happy.

I've realized in the last year that maybe there are other things that I love in life MORE than teaching. That maybe there are ways to balance maintaining them all in my life...and maybe that's okay.

That it's okay to not base all of your decisions on money and society's value of success.

Because I'm happy where I am - I really am.

And nothing is worth more than that.

Roadtrips Rule..Planes Drool

So my cousin is moving on Monday. To Boston.

And last time I checked...that's NOT so close to me.

Which makes my heart a little sad. Well, a lot sad actually. I wish she could stay here and have fun with me..but alas..she needs a real grown-up job - and this was an opportunity far too exciting to pass up. (< Blatant Bragging > - ONE OF MY VERY BEST COUSINS WORKS FOR HARVARD 'YO - HAAAAARVAAAAAAAAARD < /Blatant Bragging >) And besides, it's only a...erm...ten hour drive. And a short plane ride.

Well it was a short plane ride. But thanks to some people behaving like idiots on planes lately..there are a whole hoo-ha of new security measures and restrictions and headaches when trying to board a plane...which make the plane experience a heck of a lot more difficult.

Now I understand that it's important to be secure...and I understanding taking extra precautions because some people can't grow up and be normal and want to do all sorts of crazy things. And I've accidentally taken things on planes with me before...so I know that the rules can (even accidentally) be broken. Scarily easily actually. Without thinking about it...I packed bottles of Ouzo with me from Greece to Milan. In my carry on. And I didn't get stopped or questioned. When I realized it...I wasn't going to be like...WHOOPS...I'm SO sorry...I'm an idiot...confiscate these please. Seeing as though I was ON the plane already and being like...I have things I'm not supposed to have with me on this here plane...probably not such a good idea. So I kept my mouth shut and my booze stored securely in the overhead compartments.

So I understand going through your things with a fine tooth comb. And I can live with them being extra thorough and over the top. And I understand that progress needs to happen, and that clearly the old ways aren't necessarily working.

But I don't know quite how to feel about this.

I get that it'll help to catch people who are doing things that they're not supposed to. And I definitely don't want crazys on my airplane. Or really, on ANY airplane. And it's all blah blah blah decrease other security measures like patdowns and such. Which aren't so much fun either.

But having someone see me naked through a scanner?

I'm pretty sure that I REALLY don't want that either.

...Roadtrips to Boston it is?

Times Are A Changin'

Wow. It's 2010. (Twenty-Ten? Two-Thousand-And-Ten? Erm...Whatever-it-is..) and I'm not quite sure how that happened.

Where exactly did the last decade go? Ten years ago I spent new years with my parents in the nations capital on parliament hill....spending time with family in Ottawa. This year was quite different. We didn't go out, there were no huge celebrations or fireworks. But there was family, good food and laughter and I had a smile on my face the entire evening...so what more could I ask for?

I remember talking about the year 2000 and how far away it seemed, how old I'd be and how crazy it was to even think about it. And now it's the beginning of yet another decade...and life is just as crazy as ever..and I still don't know how it happened.

So much has happened in the last ten years...it's impossibly crazy to think about how different life is and how much I've 'grown up'...so here's a little recap of the last ten years..

In the last ten years I've...

*Graduated from highschool
*Moved out on my own into an apartment with one of my best friends
*Become an 'adult' in the legal sense of the word
*Graduated from university with a BA with a double major in history and psychology.
*Traveled to, through and around South Africa
*Graduated from teachers college
*Spent a year living in Switzerland
*Been a bridesmaid in two weddings for people I love
*Got my drivers licence
*Travelled to: Barcelona, Rome, Madrid, London, Paris, Athens, Florence, Berlin, Amsterdam, Prague, Budapest, Krakow, Milan, Vienna, Zurich and oh so many other wonderful European cities
*Was a nanny for three (kinda-sorta-really-spoiled) girls.
*Roadtripped to the east coast of Canada - twice.
*Worked on our farm every summer
*Said final goodbyes to a grandmother
*Watched as friends became mothers
*Cut off more than half my body height in hair in one ginormous cut
*Realized the importance of true happiness and following your heart (or your gut) regardless of what other people are doing, saying or thinking.

And that's just a small little list of some of the 'big ticket' life changing things I could think of off the top of my head.

The last ten years have been pretty crazy and amazing. They've been full of a lot of growth and a lot of changes...and I'm quite excited to see just what the next ten years bring :)

Cheers - and Happy New Year! All the best for 2010!

...However you want to pronouce it :)

Remember When...

I've been having little...Europe twinges the last little while.

Kind of like homesickness, except..for Europe. I mean...it's worse than cutting out smoking. Not that I would really know, since I'm not a smoker and never have been. But it's completely COLD TURKEY. Europe Done. No chance of a little cobblestone in your life anytime soon little lady...it's OVAH.

Sure, I'll go back and visit places that I loved (Berlin - I. want. to. have. your. babies.) and places that have a special place in my heart (Oh Paris - How I loved you and the memories you gave me - 'thank god it's not rats' --2.5 seconds later --> 'OH GOD IT IS RATS') and the places I've yet to make it to (Yeah I'm talkin' to you: Stockholm, Copenhagen, Warsaw, Moscow, Edinburgh, Crete, Istanbul, Sicily, Le Havre, Luxembourg & SO MANY OTHER PLACES - me and you gots us a DATE in the future and it's gonna be AWESOME.) Don't get me wrong..I went A LOT of places. I did a lot of fabulous things..and saw even more wonderful, breathtaking things than most people get to see in their lifetimes. I had an awesome year, and it's even more awesome in hindsight because I think about the travelling I did and the adventures I had (Last time I counted...I'd visted almost twenty countries in a YEAR - FOR FUN - WHO DOES THAT?!) and those memories will stay with me forever and let me tell you..they were awesome.

But still...I would sit here and creep all of the girls I knew who were still in Switzerland. And I would creep the girl who replaced me to see how much fun she is having. I would sit here and think about how much fun I had travelling..and would think about how much I missed being there.

And then, today, I talked to my replacement. I've chatted with her a couple times...and we've sent a couple emails back and forth. All of these seemed very happy, positive and very little reference to any sort of problems or difficulties that she may have been having. Now, a part of me hoped that this was because there WEREN'T any problems. But another (very selfish and very insecure) part of me worried that she was doing a way better job and had figured out how to manage that family better than I could. That I had been over-exagerating. That the things that were conflicts and problems and issues when I lived in that house..were actually with ME instead of with the job and with THEM. That my entire year there had just been a big ole giant social experiment which proved that I suck.

So I sat on my chair here, and worried and wondered about all of the possibilities. It comes as no surprise to me (and, let's face it..probably anyone reading this) that I sat here and overanalyzed and overthought and of course...I wondered the things that my self-conscious, deep down nervous self thinks. Is she having more fun than I did? Do the kids love her more than they love me? Is she better at ironing than I am? Does she yell less? Have more better days? Does she question every.single.little.move. that she makes because as much as she's NOT those children's mother...she knows that one little move can screw them up even more than they already are? And...the MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION...Could she manage to find IKEA? Because I SWEAR...I tried and tried. And I never found it. That, and it was the end of the year and I was tired of being her slave and I didn't actually...erm...really try. Whoops. That one I don't really worry about..but the rest..I do.

Sitting here with my lovely rose coloured glasses on...I dreamed about all of the happy times. The kisses and the I love you's...the list that my lovely middle child made of 'why Erin would be a good mother'. The car dances and sharing icecream bites. And the travels. Oh how I remember the travels with such a fondness in my heart that it makes my rose coloured glasses so thick that I forget about all of the stuff that I hated. I tend to forget about the job PART that came ALONG with the lovely European life. With all of the things that I loved. I've been reading old blog entries..and as much as quite a lot of them are happy..there are definitely ones that are there that make me cringe. The ones about my lack of privacy, the complete and utter lack of respect. The ones about me, and the person I am...being bulldozed into the ground...and treated like garbage OVER and OVER again.

What people don't understand..is that being someones personal slave nanny makes as if you're bipolar. If you're having a good day..then life is GREAT. And if you're having a bad day..life sucks more than you could ever imagine. This was so true, but especially in that household...good days meant scoops of icecreams for dessert that cost more than you made the entire day...and goodnight kisses and kids who won't have any homework and a boss who comes home from shopping and hands you a little package and thanks you for your hard work and tells you how much the kids and her love you. Bad days means that every. single. thing. you. do. is criticized and the kids scream and cry over everything..won't eat their dinners and there are huge messes everywhere you turn. Bad days when the dog has crapped everywhere and you're trying to pull yourself together enough to make it through the next hour, the next day, the next week and you just don't know how much longer you can put yourself through it. Especially when you've worked out your hourly rate to be a whopping 4 bucks an hour once you figure in the 'overtime' that oddly enough, gets overlooked when paycheques are dispensed and you've just worked four 80 hour work weeks and only got two sets of EXACTLY 48 hours off in that ENTIRE MONTH.

This job was not unlike life. It has its ups and downs like anything else out there. There is just such a lack of control that is hard to deal with in this situation...which I guess is also similar to real life. You can't REALLY take things into your own hands..because as much as you have taken on the mothering role and do all of the things that a traditional mother DOES..that mother that you are replacing is still there watching ever move you make and judging everything that you do and wanting it done THEIR way. Which, in my opinion, for this case...is not the way. So, when you look at it from a job perspective...it's hard to validate how it could be worth it. I get wanting to be a mother, and I've always been that girl that wanted kids. But man, this has opened my eyes to an entirely different world of parenting, and I know that if I ever have kids..this experience has taught me a lot of how I would (and wouldn't) raise my own children.

And when I talked with this girl, when she called to ask me what the job was like...I was having a good day. The sun was shining, birds were chirping. The girls had no homework. Their mother had decided on a whim to take them out for sushi and into town for the evening..giving me some much desired respite (and a still clean house, that the maid had just COMPLETELY CLEANED from top to bottom) and I was getting ready to meet with some girlfriends to lie on a blanket on the edge of Lake Zurich while the sun set.

So you may see how my views were skewed on that particular day.

How I might have been like 'pssssh...it's GREAT! I LOVE IT HERE!'

But, in my defense...I did tell her about the tantrums..and the bad days..and how they're demanding and expect EVERYTHING of you. I told her things...and when I told other aupairs what I had told her..they were like...MAN! IF YOU TOLD ME THAT I'D NEVER COME!.....but until you combine what I told her...with the rest of my stories...with the rest of the things that went on in that house....it's impossible to understand. You can't completely and fully GET it until you're in the thick of it..and I knew that. But still...As much as they used me and abused me and took advantage of me...I care about those girls..and I wanted someone who would love them and take care of them and be good to them. So I told her more good things than bad..and told her that all aupairs deal with crappy circumstances..but as far as wages and weeks off go..you're lucky to be working for them because they pay the most and give the most time off out out everyone that I know. And yes, I know...that the whole lotta CRAZY that comes with the job has a heckuva lot to do with that...but as much as sometimes those kids drove me crazy...I do love all of them. Even when the seven year old like to tell me to bleep the bleep off because she bleeping hated me for bleeping making her take a bleeping shower. I'm an awful person, I know. I mean..SHOWERING. COME ON. HOW COULD I BE ANY MEANER?!?

That being said...as much as it pained me to listen to this poor girl ramble on tonight..I felt a sigh of relief that it wasn't just me. That they still are crazy. That they've ALWAYS been crazy, and it wasn't just me. That the kids are nuts. And the mother is demanding beyond belief. That she's tired of the job, exhausted and just doesn't know what to do anymore.

And then I felt this gut-wrenching-oh-my-god-what-have-I-done pain in my heart. I ENCOURAGED someone to go through this? To be that person who has to suffer through this? Yes, you get a payoff for taking on this job..but at what price? And at what price is it just not WORTH it anymore? Sure, they'll always find someone..but how could I be okay with encouraging someone to put themselves into a situation that I know is not healthy? And worse yet..I told her she'd be okay. I told her that if she wasn't..what was the worst that could happen..she'd go home and be in the same spot she'd been in last spring. I think that the worst part for me is that I DID bend over backwards for them..and I did make it harder for her to stand up to them..because I never did. I never took a stance and said what needed to be said..and my lack of action spoke louder than words ever will. All of the aupairs there took abuse and were used and hurt and never said anything. And if anyone ever did..they were reprimanded and further yet, PUNISHED as if THEY were the children..instead of the ones RAISING the children.

So I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I talked to her..and told her that it'd be okay. And I reminded her of her fabulous Greece trip that she'd returned from a few weeks ago..and talked about all of the fun places she'd get to go in the future. I reminded her that it's okay to give up and go home..and even if she didn't..that it's still okay to think about it. I gave her some things that I figured out towards the end of my year there...I joked and tried to be there for her when she was feeling frustrated, upset, lonely and down. And in the end..she thanked me and told me that it was really nice to have someone to talk to who knew EXACTLY what she was going through.

And I do.

But I still can't help but feel a tinge guilty..that even though I know that she's a fabulous person..and so good for the kids...that I helped to put her into this situation that I don't think is really healthy for ANYONE. I believe that all things happen for a reason...even if we don't know what those things are at the time. And I really hope that there was a reason for this, because she really is a sweet, loving, caring, nice person. I really just hate to think of the circumstances that make it hard for her to continue on there and my involvement in that.

So I will do my best. And make sure that she knows that I'm here..and respond to emails and remind her to focus on the good things. Because there are always good things...even if you have to look a while, put on your rose coloured glasses..and dig through years of old blog posts to find them.

Nagging Nellys

If there is something that really gets under my skin more than most things..it's being nagged to do something.

To do...ANYTHING.

If it's a reminder of something I've honestly forgotten...then I have no problem doing it. If you're nagging me to do something..in all liklihood..I probably don't want to do it. I probably have reasons why I don't want to do it. And I probably won't share the reasons because I hate confrontation and sharing my true feelings. Oh, and I hate nagging.

I'm one of those people..who when nagged...I have the tendency to do the opposite of whatever it is that is asked of me.

For instance..my mother repeatedly bugs me to do something? Yeah, you can bet that it's not going to get done ANY time soon. And the more she asks, the slower it gets done. She doesn't understand that I HATE being asked to do things over and over and over again...and it seems that SO many people just don't GET that.

I have my own agenda..I have my own list of things to do that sits in my head..nagging me all day long..I don't need another person with their own personal list of things that I am supposed to be doing for them...and repeating that list every 2.5 mili-seconds.

Kind of makes me want to claw my eyes out to not see the notes, emails and 'friendly reminders', to rip off my ears just so that they'll stop mentioning it...and to procrastinate doing it even longer. Just to teach them a lesson that their nagging techniques will not work on me.

I paid attention during all of my psyc. classes..and all of my behaviour modification classes...and all of my teachers college education. I do not reward behaviour that I don't like..and thus..when people nag me, which I don't like...I don't give in. It may be me being stubborn...and it may mean that I'm a bad person..but because I'm not using my five years of university in any other way....I'll use it to flat out, without a doubt, refuse to reward this behaviour.

Even if it just means that I'm being a stubborn, mean, vindictive person.

Or, maybe it just means that I'm being a person who REALLY doesn't like being nagged.

Silly Sorrows

I've sat here for the past few days moaning and groaning about how my body aches. My head hurts. I can't stop coughing. I have no appetite. I'm exhausted even though all I do is sit, then sleep, then sit, then sleep.

And then I check blogger this morning..and have one of those 'ah ha' moments. You know, the ones that make you go..oh right. I'm just one little person in the GREAT BIG WORLD and in the grand scheme of the ENTIRE WORLD...I'm just one person who has a COLD. A measly, little, insignificant who-cares cold.

I stumbled upon a girl named Heathers blog a while ago...I don't really know how..but I did. And from that moment when I first started reading...I was captivated. I spent hours reading and pouring over blog entries and crying about how unfair the world is. I don't have kids, I have no idea what it would ever be like to be in their shoes...but their story shakes me to the core because it's just so HEARTBREAKING. And most times that she writes about her the things going on in her life...I end up sighing (see: bawling) and wondering how someone can be dealt a hand that..sucks. Sucks big bunches of monkey butt.

And then I read this post this morning and spent the rest of the morning pouring over another blog of a woman who has been faced with a crappy hand, overcome so many obstacles that life threw her way..and then, when it was least expected...the dealer played a joker and completely caught her off gaurd. At the age of 35, she has ended up in the ICU after having a stroke...while her family waits and hopes and dreams of her return to them.

It just really made me stop. Sit up. And look around. And realize that I'm pretty darn lucky. The hand I've been dealt has, so far (*knocks on wood*) been pretty good. Life has been kind to me. I found myself sitting here going...'So, I have a cold'...and my brain calmly answered: SO. WHAT.

There are so many worse things in life then a little, stupid COLD. So I realized that I can sit here and wallow in it and cough and be miserable..or I can choose to learn a lesson from these older and wiser women. Women who have faced so many more obstacles and overcome real pain, sadness and heartache in their lives then I could ever imagine. I realized that all I can do is hope, wish and dream this woman,Anissa, a woman who I haven't had the chance to 'meet' via the interwebs yet, who I know that I could learn so much from... will yet again prove that her strengths lie in overcoming obstacles so that she can yet again update her silly, witty, inspiring blog once again.

Oh, and I'll stop whining about how unfair life is that I have a cold while I'm at it.

Drinking Dreams

I had a lovely evening spent lounging around with cousins whom I heart dearly.

And then I got in my car..and started to drive home.

And got frustrated. And then angry. And then on top of that..a little bit beyond infuriated.

You see, sometimes when I drive home..I get stuck beyond...for a lack of a better word...complete and total morons.

Now, there are your regular kind of morons who are on the road. The ones who cut you off. Who go too fast. Who go to slow. Who aren't paying attention to what they're doing because they're distracted by their phones/makeup/passengers. The ones who drive too close. Or, the ones don't turn off their brights.

There are lots of reasons how someone can be an idiot while driving...and as much as they're annoying and I want to shake my fist (and sometimes DO shake my fist..) I don't get QUITE as angry as I do when I'm following someone like the complete and total moron that I was following tonight.

The one who drove 50-60 on a 80km highway.

The one who crept down to 40km/h when they saw another car on the horizon

The one who swerved from one side of the white line, right over until they rode the yellow line.

The one who only realized that they were in the opposite driving lane when I gave them a little honk, which caused them to almost end up in the ditch on the other side of the road when they realized and over-corrected.

The one who almost ended up in the lake as we rounded a curve and they attempted to throw their cigarette butt out the window.

The one who was drunk, stupid, careless and irresponsible.

I hate being stuck behind drivers who choose to make such stupid decisions. If you know you have to drive home...suck it up and don't drink. You're old enough to drive? To be responsible for driving yourself and others somewhere? When you take on that responsibility..you should be conciously making the decision to be as safe as humanly possible whenever you're in the car. If you're going to decide to drink..make sure you have a DD or a place to crash. I don't need your stupid ass on the roads making stupid decisions, not in control of the vehicle you're driving and putting my safety and the safety of everyone else on the road in jeopardy. What's the point? Seriously? What good can come of driving home drunk? Where do you get off thinking that it's okay to put MY life and the lives of ones that I love in jeopardy?You may get away with it for a while..but eventually luck runs out...and as much as it's your life and you have the right to put yourself into danger should you desire (which, for the life of me, I can't figure out WHY you'd wanna do that.)..it's NOT okay to put anyone else in that path with you. You want to live on the edge with your life? Go jump out of an airplane or something..don't drive drunk on my roads.

It's just that I've seen way too many peoples luck run out. I've seen way too many people in this place buried before they should have been because they, or someone else decided that they were fine. They knew when their judgement had been altered. They knew when they'd crossed that line between being 'okay' and having 'too much'. And that's why at LEAST once a year there is car crash in this area which usually results in a death at my old highschool from an alcohol related incident. Not to mention all of the other alcohol related deaths that aren't related to my highschool directly. It just makes me sick to my stomach when I think about all of the lives lost..all of the potential wasted...because of an inability to admit that they shouldn't be driving, that they COULDN'T drive.

So, when I found myself behind this driver tonight...I did what I always do. I crept down to whatever speed they were doing. I kept my distance even further then I usually do in case I needed to slam on my breaks. I didn't pass them..because I had no idea what side of the road they'd swerve to if I tried to do that. Quite frankly..my life is worth a lot more then the five or ten minutes faster I might have been home if I'd tried to pass them. I gritted my teeth..and wasn't even mad at the speed we were going. Instead, I was mad at the sheer stupidity of people who think that they're invincible, and worse yet..the ones who think that it's okay to put everyone elses life in danger too, because they're too full of themselves to admit that they're not perfect and they too are fallible.

If this was something that had never happened before...if this was something that was so uncommon it was more shocking then not...I don't think that I would be quite as angry. Sure, I wouldn't be HAPPY about it..but I think that I would be more sad then angry. Unfortuantly...it's something that's far too common around here. I get stuck behind cars like this far more often then I'd rather admit. And time after time..I wonder what people are thinking. How they can justify their behaviour when it's just so...stupid.

So maybe it does make me sad. Sad that it does happen so often here. Sad that people here think that it's okay, think that they're okay to drive when they're so obviously not. I know that it happens in larger cities..but I also am apt to think that because there is no such thing as public transport here, that because there are higher rates of alcohol abuse in rural areas..and because people so often just have different mentalities..it does happen more here.

I guess more then anything..I just hate hearing about death after death, funeral after funeral..where another young kid smashes into a rock wall, another car, or ends up in the bottom of a lake when there was NO need for this to happen. Hearing about a family who now has to mourn the loss of a loved one, because someone made a foolish decision. It's hard enough for me to think about people losing their lives due to disease and circumstance...let alone think about deaths that are so unnecessary. It just doesn't make sense to me...and it breaks my heart to think about all of the heartache and saddness that could have been avoided. The lost lives that could have been something more.

Life, in my humble opinion..is way too short and way too precious to be thrown away like that.

So thats why I'll sigh and head off to bed...dreaming of a world where life makes sense. Where happy endings are always there with rainbows, kittens and smiles. And, where people don't ever question driving after they've been drinking..because that's just too silly to even fathom.