Even though I know better....

...I drank a RedBull this morning. What follows may or may not make sense. It may or may not be cohesive. It may or may not be unintelligible stream of consciousness. Right now it feels like every little synapse is on fire. I can't iron in this state (which is funny because the reasoning behind the RedBull consumption centered around having the energy to iron today), so I'm going to tell you about my day yesterday.

I am on the emailing list for the Royal Opera House's student standby tickets. It's awesome. Tickets for a tenner. Sometimes a fiver (like when I saw La boheme). I get an email on Monday letting me know I could get tickets for yesterday's matinee show of The National Ballet of China's production of Swan Lake. YES PLEASE! So I go online to see what sort of tickets I can get, and the "best available" option rewards me with two seats in the orchestra stalls, 13 rows back, right in the center. This is the view from our seats:I mean wow. It gets better...

I have never seen such a crisp, tight, precise ballet performance before. It was perfect. Sure, the guys weren't as powerful as American dancers, but they were a hell of a lot more graceful AND light on their feet. I think I heard Prince Siegfried's landings maybe half a dozen times throughout the entire three-act ballet. And Odette/Odile....oh man. I could rave for AGES. She was flawless. As Odette her dancing was mournful and fragile and dreamlike and even a little bit hesitant/nervous. As Odile she was so full of charisma and pizazz and all her movements were strong and assertive. It was incredible. Her footwork was perfect. Her arms were beautiful. There are 32 fouettes in a row in the pas de deux in the second act. She made it look easy.

The whole thing was just plain incredible.

Major delays on the Northern Line coming home turned me into a sticky sweaty mess. Took me twice as long to get home, with a lot of that time was spent at a standstill, and there's no air circulation on the Northern Line if the train ain't moving. But I was still in such a good mood from ballet I didn't mind too much.

I get home and find out Sonja is going to get hamburger buns. Fabulous. This means I have to figure out how to make hamburgers from scratch. Of all the things I've ever made from scratch, hamburgers is not one of them. Sonja couldn't believe it. So I tried to explain to her about how awesome packages of frozen hamburger patties are for a busy family. Then I realized her argument would probably be something along the lines of "well we're a busy family and I'd NEVER buy those...", so I quickly threw in "yeah...a busy family that doesn't have a dedicated au pair to cook for them when they don't have the time or energy..." The rest of the conversation is as follows....sort of. I mean, it's pretty close but obviously I have to paraphrase some of it:

Sonja: Ohhhhh....you mean they don't have a bitch
Me: What?!
Sonja: You're my bitch
Me: Excuse me?! So is this a good time to bring up my fees for next year then?
Sonja: Like Luke [her assistant/lap dog]. He's my bitch.
Me: Yeah. He is. But he's sort of more of your bitch than I am. I mean, he follows you around and crap.
Sonja: Yeah. He idolizes me. But you're my bitch too.
Me: I don't have you on a pedestal though like he does. Sorry. You're too heavy.
Sonja: (looks shocked)
Me: (grinning while making lifting motions with my arms) You know. I'm not strong enough to lift you up and put you up there. On the pedestal. Sorry.
Sonja: (still looks shocked, exits the kitchen)
Me: No really though, we need to talk about my school fees for next year. Come back.
Sonja: (returns)
Me: Just because it's getting close to the cutoff date for getting a discount for paying early and I need to know if you guys are covering them again this year or if I have to.
Sonja: How much of a discount?
Me: It's 2.5% if you pay in full by the last Friday in August. I can't remember off the top of my head how much that works out to...
Sonja: 2.5%?! That's like, two quid!
Me: No....it works out to 250 or something like that. I'll pull up the webpage after dinner and show you the exact amount.
Sonja: I thought it was direct debit from my account.
Me: No, that was for last year. I mean, you could do it again this year if you want but then you don't get the discount.
Sonja: It's Julian's turn to pay fees this year.

So while I'm not sure if they're going to be paying for school again this year, at least I've planted the seed. I'll bring it up again in a couple of days.

Can't believe she said I'm her bitch though. It's even harder to believe I didn't lose my cool.

I think this might be one of them downward spirals...

You know it's bad when I sit down to write a second blog entry for the day.

It's been another one of those days where I realize I seriously detest a ten-year-old. And then feel terrible about myself because I've allowed this job to turn me into somebody that has the capacity to almost hate a kid. Hating grownups doesn't bother me. For the most part grownups are aware of their actions and the repercussions those actions will have. If not, they should be. Kids don't have that clarity of vision. That's part of the fun of being a kid.

Conrad is different. He sounds so much like an adult sometimes I forget that he's not. He told me this afternoon, "You can't boss me around because this is like, my home, it's where I live. You can't tell me what to do." The implications of those two sentences are just simply awesome. And this was his response after I told him to go to his room after repeatedly asking him today to stop smacking/grabbing/pinching my ass. This has been going on for a few months now. He smacks my bum, I ask him to stop, he ignores. Today I added the negative reinforcement. Told him this morning that if he continued to do it he'd spend the rest of the day in his room. A couple of hours later he did it again. I asked him to stop and told him this was his last warning before having to be sent to his room. Did it a third time so I sent him off.

Was I out of line? I'm sure if I bring it up to either Sonja or Julian they'll laugh and tell me it was innocent, and whether it was or not that doesn't change the fact that I felt harassed. I somehow doubt sexual harassment is as hot a topic here as it is back home, and furthermore I think it would be hard to prove that a child is capable of it (and even if you did, what's the point? Being sent to juvie seems a little harsh, and everybody knows that juvenile records are sealed anyway).

This job and these people are fucked up. I'm sorry for the language but I don't know any other way to describe it. And they're starting to screw with my head too. Sexually harassed by a ten-year-old? Come on. That doesn't sound the least bit sane. But between the ass-grabbing (by both mother and son), the boob-groping (thankfully only done by the mother), the jokes made about my tongue ring, the jokes made about my sexual preference, the remarks about losing weight, the remarks made about me playing it fast and loose with boys, and all the other passive-aggressive snide comments that have been made, I'm surprised I've made it this far.

IT'S NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS.

Ah. Wonderful. Julian is back home so Conrad thinks he's allowed out of his room. D'you hear that scraping sound? That's me digging my fingernails in, trying desperately to keep from sliding back any further. Pity it's not going to happen.

But as much as I get upset with Conrad, it all winds up centering back on Sonja and Julian. Always the parents. Kids have to learn their behavior from somewhere. I'm guessing it's not his friends or teachers that provide the most Brittany Badmouthing. And I sure as heck don't get support from them these days either. Sonja thinks I'm mean and doesn't actually want to punish her child ever for fear he won't like her when he grows up (True Story. Heard her and Julian discussing it in the bathroom one night. I refuse to call it "eavesdropping" simply because they couldn't be bothered to spend a reasonable amount of money making sure the walls aren't paperthin.).

I suppose the thing that bums me out the most is that most everything else is going swimmingly (or at least without any major issues). It's just this stupid job.

Okay. Time for Brittany Nonsense.

I've decided I don't like Miley Cyrus because she's too wholesome. Even that Annie Liebowitz (or however you spell her silly name) photo shoot doesn't count as scandal. I WANT SCANDAL. Not because I want to gloat because I think I'm better morally/spiritually/emotionally/whatever ...I just want everyone else to be reminded that celebrities are regular people, most of which don't do anything that really warrants the stardom that they've got.

I also saw a picture of Zac Efron and Becks posing together. Man. Two guys I'm not supposed to admit being attracted to but can't really help the attraction. Efron is legal now, right? Otherwise I'm going to feel even more pervy for having a teensy little crush on a teen idol. And Beckham. I don't care how stupid and white trash Sonja and Jayne tell me his is, or how obviously faked that underwear ad was. He's still easy on the eyes and has a phenomenal free kick.

Mischa Barton is STILL UGLIER THAN SIN. Come on. Has she even done anything since leaving The OC? Let's check IMDB....Nope. Other than a bunch of links to news articles about her DUI, there ain't much on her page.

I mentioned before that Julian is working on a film adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray. I am BEYOND excited for this. I asked him if I could read the script but I don't think he'll let me. And to be honest, I don't want to read it anymore. I just want to be surprised. They've done a fantastic job casting (Colin Firth as the bored aristocrat fellow who totally corrupts Dorian.... YES PLEASE!).

I'm happy that everyone will be trickling back into town over the next few weeks. It'll be nice to have people to hang out with again, since it's obvious I've been going a bit mad being stuck with nothing to do during the week other than wander through my head. And me all stir-crazied out is NEVER a good thing.

Anyway. It's almost time to go get dinner going. I feel a bit better having vented again. And gossiped mindlessly about celebrities.

Word.

(PS: It's 6:25pm now. Just for those of you who want to know how long it takes me to write these.)

Ever wondered what your absolute breaking point is?

I haven't found mine yet but lately it seems like I might be closing in on it.

I am in a particularly foul mood this morning. Like spitting nails/seeing red foul.

I no longer feel guilty for starting my search for a new family (more on that in a sec).

Had a really great weekend bracketed by half-days on Friday and Monday (meaning I only had to work half the day). Did absolutely nothing on Friday night besides give myself a mani/pedi and watch Lolita. CREEPYTOWN. The Kubrick version, not the remake with Jeremy Irons and Melanie Griffith. Haven't seen the remake. I fell asleep around one and got a full eight hours of sleep. It was heavenly.

Woke up easily on Saturday morning since I wasn't up until sunrise the night before. Despite allowing for two hours to get ready, still managed to leave the house late for the matinee performance of La Boheme that I had scored incredibly cheap tickets for. There's a shocker. I'm running late for something. Meet up with Vicky at Leicester Square then haul ass to the Royal Opera House. Manage to get to our seats just before they dimmed the lights, then moved down a couple of rows to be closer.

WOW.

Somebody once told me you either love opera or you hate it. I think I may love it. It was incredible. AND I had my first ever meat pasty during the long interval. Awesome.

Spent the rest of the weekend at home relaxing. Made decent chicken enchiladas, watched movies, drank beer, made pancakes. Good times. Completely demolished the kitchen in the process. Even left dirty dishes in the sink overnight. I am SUCH a rebel. Har har.

In the process of having a webcam chat with family members on Sunday night I was reminded of the website I used last year when I first started my search for a family to au pair for. So I re-activated my profile, changed a few things, and started searching for possible new families that same night.

Julian and Conrad got back from Venice around 3:30 yesterday afternoon. Conrad jumped on me and gave me a big huge hug. My heart broke a little bit and I felt REALLY guilty for thinking about leaving. Really guilty. Started thinking maybe I could stick it out, for his sake.

But then of course he mouthed off shortly thereafter and really has not stopped. Just got done doing it again. Apparently I'm not "the king of [his] body" and he "does what [his] body
wants to do." Whatever that means. All I'd said was that it was a nice day out and we should go outside. Sorry. I can't actually type right now I'm so angry.

Couldn't sleep again last night. Finally managed to keep my eyes closed around 5:30 this morning. Set my alarm for 9 and managed to actually wake up at 9:30. Hooray. Four hours. I should be able to make it through the day on that. Except the sun is out and it's possible they're leaving the house so that means I'm going to want to catch some sun which also means I'm gonna pass out around noon if I get a chance to tan. Oh well.

But here's the rant. Here's the reason why I'm looking for a new family. If you don't want to read it, just stop now, I'm not gonna try to end this on a happy note (might happen anyway, but probably not).

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THE JOB YOU PAY ME FOR IF YOU DO IT FOR ME?

I get out of bed at 9:30 this morning. I suspect Julian has already been up for an hour. Conrad is still in his pajamas and has not eaten breakfast (although I didn't know that at first). Rather than let me take care of it as soon as I go to the bathroom and put on a bra, Julian has already started the laundry from their trip AND has emptied the dishwasher/done the dishes. Over the past few weeks I've made it a point to do chores FIRST THING after I come downstairs in the morning. Did the laundry really need to get started before ten? Was it really that big of a deal to leave the bowl from your breakfast and your tea mug in the sink until I could get down there to take care of it?

NO.

Oh no Julian. None of the housework you do is necessary...it's all just a power trip/control thing. I understand, I do. If I had a battle-axe shrew for a wife who constantly bad-mouthed me in front of EVERYONE and acts as though she's the be-all and end-all of everything and CAN NEVER do anything wrong and a son who takes all his cues from his mother and talked to me the way Conrad talks to you, I'd condescend the shit out of the nanny too.

WEIRD SIDE NOTE: There is a woman over right now who has apparently been hired to come over and look after the cats when we all leave for Christmas. WHAT THE HELL? I'm hiding in my room, furiously typing away, so I don't know what she looks like, but judging from her voice, the way she speaks, and her obvious love of cats, it's possible that finding out what she looks like may well be finding out what I'll look like in forty years after I successfully morph into THE CRAZY CAT LADY. I imagine she's wearing a British version of my bag lady sweater and a beret she crocheted herself that sort of looks like a sloppy tea cozy. She probably wears orthopedic shoes and carries a large dull brown leather purse. And wears pink lipstick. With sort of frizzy brown hair. Ha. I'm having so much fun imagining what she looks like I don't want to peek out of my room and ruin it.

Enough fancy, back to the rant....

Damn. I'm really working myself into a (seemingly) justified self-righteous fury. Awesome. Just remember that the way I deal with things is to get really angry about it, vent like it's gonna cure cancer, come up with a hare-brained scheme to fix everything, then completely run out of steam and just get on with it.

My main gripe is the utter lack of communication, and that it's forcing me to force the issue. Don't get me wrong, some days I'm just in the mood to pick fights, but NEVER where my job is concerned. And certainly NEVER with my bosses. I will go out of my way to avoid conflict with the person/people I report to. But thankfully I've always had extremely communicative bosses. Bosses that were good at not only telling me when I'd done a good job, but also giving good solid constructive criticism when I screwed up. Bosses that actually had conversations with me about my job where they didn't talk to me like a naughty child.

And then I moved here. If you've been following this blog you know I got really frustrated just before I went home for Easter and spent two weeks at Doheny drafting an email listing all my grievances and such. I'm angry and frustrated to the point where I don't care anymore if they find this blog, so I'm posting up the letter now too. Sorry for the length, but here it is:

Dear Julian and Sonja

I am writing to let you know that I am flying back to London today and should arrive sometime Friday morning. I will arrange my own transportation from Gatwick Airport as I have in the past. I will let you know if I get stuck anywhere. I am sorry for the late email, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed, the ticket I fly requires me to be very flexible and ready to change plans at very short notice in order to avoid getting stranded at one of the three airports I have to catch a flight at.

I would also like to take this opportunity to further discuss the conversation Sonja and I had the Monday before I left London. Sonja stressed a desire for more professionalism on my part, but I feel that it has been lacking from all parties. In order to remedy this, I would like to make a few requests:

1. It would be extremely helpful if you could provide me with a detailed job description listing all of the duties and chores you expect me to perform. A breakdown according to daily/weekly tasks would also be appreciated.

2. I would like to know what my expected working/”on call” hours are, as well as which two days a week I am meant to have off. I would also like to know whether or not you expect me to be full-time or part-time.

a. Along these lines, I feel that we should agree upon a more formalized working week, which would then include a more formalized pay rate. For example, anything above and beyond the two nights a week babysitting would be paid at time and a half from 9pm until midnight, with any time after midnight being paid at double time. Any time worked during my days off would also be paid at double time.

b. I would also appreciate having more notice for babysitting evenings and weekend work. While I understand the non-standard hours both your jobs require, I feel as though my relaxed attitude towards extra working hours encourages you to take advantage. Also, sufficient prior notice helps me avoid accidentally making plans on a day you need me.

c. Factoring in my term time wage of 90 per week, my summer/term break wage of 180 per week, and the 9300 paid for my university fees, my annual wages are 14520. Once we decide what my weekly hours are, we can use this annual figure to determine what my hourly rate is. This will obviously change as my fees are projected to increase each year.

d. I think it would be easiest to use July 1^st as the beginning of a new year for me as your employee, as I arrived very near that date last year (June 30^th, to be precise).

3. I would also like to know whether my weekly wages are paid at the beginning or the end of the work week.

a. If they are intended to be paid at the beginning of the work week, you are two weeks behind in paying me (I was not paid for the week following my return from the US in January, nor was I paid for the week following our return from France). If they are intended to be paid at the end of the work week you are one week behind.

b. In order to avoid any mix-ups such as these in the future, I would greatly appreciate if you would set up a standing order to be paid into my account. I am flexible as far as the schedule goes, so we can discuss whether you’d like it to be monthly, bi-weekly, or weekly. Whichever is easiest for you is fine with me. Any wages earned for work above and beyond my normal work week can be paid in cash at the end of the week.

4. While I appreciate your need to be kept current on my activities should the Home Office ever decide to drop in, I feel that I must stress that there are parts of my life which I feel do not pertain to my job as Conrad’s nanny or my academic career, and thus I should not be required to disclose. I would appreciate more respect for my privacy in these matters. Rest assured that I am not doing anything that would interfere with either my job or my studies. I am more than happy to give you weekly updates on what I am doing at school, though I feel I should comment that previous attempts at doing just that have generally been met with blank stares or outright indifference.

5. Additionally, I would like to request that you would also respect my privacy in regards to the room that I sleep in. There have been several occasions where I’ve either noticed someone has been in there while I’m away or you do not knock before entering. I am partly to blame for encouraging this familiarity, however in order for me to function at my best I need to feel as though I have a space where I am not on duty. I truly appreciate the accommodation you’ve provided for me, and I respect the fact that I am staying in your home. As such, I will not do anything that would result in any damage to your property.

6. While I understand that keeping my room tidy sets a good example for Conrad, please also know that with the hectic schedule that I keep, doing my own laundry and keeping my room tidy will often fall second to doing the family’s laundry and keeping the rest of the house in order. I will do my best to keep my room as clean as possible, but I will admit there are going to be times where I just don’t have the time or energy to do so. Also bear in mind that I have to do my own tidying on my own time around your family’s schedule.

I hope I have expressed myself in a clear and concise manner. Should you have any questions, I think it would be in all our best interests to wait until my inevitable jetlag has cleared up a bit before discussing them further. Please do not interpret this email as an attack on you as employers as I am simply trying to communicate the expectations that I have concerning this position in response to Sonja detailing some of hers. Also please understand that I have written this in an attempt to inject more professionalism into my approach to the job. It is my sincere wish to solve these minor hiccups. I would also rather not regret choosing to avoid having a contract drawn up before entering employment in your household. I am confident that we will be able to arrive at a mutually advantageous arrangement with little hassle.

.....I've just realized I never posted a follow-up entry after the "chat" we had about that email. The chat basically boiled down to Sonja and Julian going through the email point by point and telling me "no". Except in a way that was rude and condescending and defensive and confrontational all at the same time. And I didn't fight back. Just sat there and nodded. Everything has sort of gone downhill after that. Well. Then again it seems like things have been going downhill since the novelty of me being here wore off about two months into my stay.

Anyway. Other remarks about their response to that email. Julian didn't believe I'd written it. He thought I'd either had a "older family member help write it" or that I'd had them write it for me in its entirety. Or that I'd gone to a lawyer. I love it when people underestimate my abilities. No really. Because somehow I'd be able to manage being an English and History student WITHOUT being able to express myself well through written word. Oh no that's right. You both went to art college and therefore probably NEVER had to write a serious essay or a massive research paper. And you know what? I'm tired of hearing about the stuff you did for A Levels. I took AP classes in high school and from what I can tell they're on a comparable level. The papers I wrote for AP English are NOTHING compared to what I had to write this year. NOTHING. Julian's working on a film adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray (I'm excited for it...good casting job, good director, check it out on IMDB). He tells me the other day he started reading the book but only got about a third of the way into it before abandoning the book in favor of the script. Didn't want to get confused. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? And you think you're a decent judge of what people are capable of writing all by themselves without enlisting the help of somebody older/with law training? Give me a break.

See. Here's the problem. I have a tiny bit of respect for Sonja because she works hard. Tiny bit. I may even listen to her if she ever decides to stop being passive aggressive and ridiculously defensive and wants to talk about my job performance. However. I have close to zero respect for Julian for the sole reason that he ALLOWS Sonja and Conrad walk all over him and then tries to get into pissing competitions with me. And we all know I have SEVERE issues with authority when I don't have respect for the person with the authority. So I resent the fact that I have to obey and ass-kiss somebody who lets everyone else treat him like crap.

Sorry. I've gotten so caught up in stream-of-consciousness that I've veered off the original train of thought. I'll try and wrap things up.

My job sucks right now. I have to muster up the courage to sit down and talk to them about a bunch of things, even though I know they're going to get defensive and possibly nasty and might even just fire me outright. But I need to know whether or not they're paying for my school again. If they are, I'll go buy a MASSIVE tub of Vaseline and get ready for the brutalization that's bound to occur over the next year. If they aren't, I get to secretly line up a new family and start drafting my "Peace out. You guys are all NUTS. Here's why..." speech that I'll deliver with great gusto on my way out the door for good.

I really don't want to though. It would be different if I could get student loans or had some other way of paying for school. TIME FOR THE HARE-BRAINED SCHEME PART! This one's a doozy...

In the tradition of considering an arranged marriage for the purposes of gaining a visa that will allow me to work full-time in the UK comes this next great idea for quickly solving my problems: I can sell my eggs! Except no. Initial research uncovered this gem: in the UK you can only be reimbursed for costs associated with the egg donation process. No extra cash on the side for healthy viable ova. In the US however....

Maybe when I go home for Christmas.

And Julian's just left. Conrad is in the shower. Guess that means it's time for me to have a cigarette, lose all steam, and just get on with it.

Oh and by the way, the site is going to say this got posted around 10:05am. That's when I started writing. It's now 12:25.

Grrrrr...

Sleep by food coma is NOT going to work tonight.

Oh no.

Rather than curl up with a book after ingesting MASS amounts of indian takeaway tonight, I opted to quickly surf the net.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid.

Now I want a cigarette and possibly tea. Neither of which is going to help me go to sleep.

All I'm gonna say is that people are screwed up and I'm resolved to stay within my current circle of friends because at least they make sense.

Grrrrrrrrr.

Oh great. Now because I'm all worked up over this my stomach has decided the indian takeaway is going to give me heartburn after all. Damn psychosomatic responses.

But. On a good note (because I always try to end on those), talked to lots of family members today. And while I could've done without all of them telling me how much they wished I could come home for a bit this summer, it was nice to talk to them again. Even if Auntie didn't chat for too long because she was worried about her cell phone minutes. Oh well.

And I did all my laundry today. Hooray.

There was something else I wanted to write about.

Oh yeah.

I've been reading voraciously again. Three books in as many days (though to be fair they were all pop fiction, not too difficult to cruise through in a few hours). I started another one today. John Irving. Should be fun. I'm hooked already, but that's not surprising since Irving has that effect on me. Usually. Owen Meaney took some working into. Nevertheless, that book remains the only one to ever succeed in making me cry. Good times. No really. Good times.

DAMN!

George R.R. Martin sucks. I hate waiting for authors to finish the next book in the series. I have been waiting THREE YEARS for the next book in his Ice and Fire series. THREE YEARS. I think I waited two years for the last one. According to Amazon, the next one isn't due out until SPRING OF NEXT YEAR. Man. Sucks. That book better knock my socks off otherwise I'm writing a very strongly-worded letter to Mr. R.R. Martin (what the heck are those initials about anyway? Not like anybody would confuse him with SIR George Martin of Beatles fame. He's a "sir". Come on...).

Oh great. Just checked out his wikipedia entry. Apparently after he FINALLY finishes this one there's still two more. At the rate he's going, I'll be 40 by the time he's done. Or he'll die first. CRAP.

I both love and loathe the endless number of things the internet provides. Grr.

I have to roast a chicken tomorrow. Not a tall order by any means, I just don't know what to make with it. And I really don't want to have to go to the store. Then again I'm going to the gym tomorrow (and I really mean it this time), so I could pop into Sainsbury's on my way back, I just don't know if I can be bothered. Hmmmm. Chicken noodle soup sounds miiiiiiighty tasty though. Especially if it goes back to raining tomorrow.

Speaking of the weather, I should've sat out today. The afternoon turned out to be real nice and sunny. Sadly, an OCD cleaning rampage brought on a serious bout of laziness after I'd whirled my way through hoovering, mopping, and scrubbing the bathrooms. And doing laundry. I did sit out for a bit in the evening, until the setting sun and rising wind forced me to abandon my sprawl at the patio table in favor of the cuddly warmth of my bed.

Might have to teach myself some basic HTML. Would be useful for formatting things. Or something. Basically, I feel like a goober/noob because I don't know any. Of course, I'm also supposed to be teaching myself Latin and getting a jump start on Old English this summer. And reading ahead for my English classes. And my history class too, should I ever get the summer reading list. Suppose I could just email my professor. I've also been toying with the idea of going back to those Greek lessons I've got now that my iPod has resurrected itself. Seems like all that might be overdoing it though. Then again, I've got a lot of time on my hands now. Funny. I thought I'd be going back to 12-hour days now that Conrad is on summer vacation.

I went wandering through youtube earlier. Remember Kids Incorporated? I sure do. Was shocked to find out Stacy from Kids Incorporated is now better known as Fergie from The Black Eyed Peas. I also laughed myself all the way to tears watching old performances from The New Mickey Mouse Club. Ryan Gosling can sing, apparently. At any rate, it was a good hour of re-living some of my early 90s childhood. Although the only time we ever got to watch Kids Incorporated or the MMC was during the annual/biannual/whenever free previews of the Disney Channel. Back in the day when it wasn't part of basic cable and didn't make its own movies from which tween merchandising empires could be built (High School Musical, I hate you. Even if I do have a pair of "I <3 Troy" socks. Oli made me buy them.).

Somebody famous has kids that go to school with Conrad. One of these children is going to Italy this weekend with Conrad, Sonja, and Julian (Hooray! I have the house to myself!). The famous parent is dropping off said child on Thursday afternoon. When Julian told me about this on Sunday (as I was grungy and in my pajamas fixing some tea), I think I was meant to be impressed or something. Or he thought he needed to warn me so I could remain composed and not get all star-struck and ask for an autograph and piss the famous parent off. After hearing the news, I laughed, rolled my eyes, and replied, "Thanks for letting me know. At least now I know to make sure I take a shower on Thursday morning." He looked a little confused. So I put on my cheesiest grin and continued, "Oh no wait. Should I ask for his autograph?" (grin went even bigger/cheesier at that point) He still looked confused. Guess he didn't expect me to not care and crack jokes about it.

Oh I don't know. It's midnight now. I'm finally calmed down but now I'm starting to hit my second wind. I think I'm going to have that ciggy/cup of tea after all. I hate this. My internal clock is so screwed up right now. I will probably have to resort to more drastic measures tomorrow night (Nyquil).

Grrrrrr.......