Things things things!

Why hello there, Internet! It's been a while, hasn't it?

There are THINGS! going on over here in The City of Awesome, THINGS! that shouldn't be discussed in such a public forum, other THINGS! that are still too premature to even be considered THINGS! No, I'm not with child, and no, I'm not getting married. These are THINGS! that have to do with work and family, aka stuff that shouldn't be broadcast on the internet. I know, I know, BORING. But such is my life =)

What I can discuss is the fact that the Rad Boyfriend and I are moving in together in June! We decided to do this a long time ago, but now that it's almost April (holy crap, where did the time go?) and we'll start to look for apartments soon, I figured it was a good time to let the cat out of the bag.* What does this mean for our relationship? Having all of our contact lens cases and toothbrushes in one place. Also, lots and lots of home cooked meals. You should see Rad Boyfriend in an apron... ;-)

I will eventually explain these other THINGS! to which I allude, but not yet. Certain other, smaller things must happen before these more important THINGS! can be discussed. And that's all I have to say about that.

In the meantime, be well! Be healthy! Love each other, and most importantly, be happy!

*Speaking of cats, we may or may not be adopting one. I really, really want a kitteh, and I know RB does, too. But right now, our priority is finding a livable dwelling out of which he can work and I will get plenty of sunlight. If that place happens to allow cats, fantastic! If not, we'll just have to wait until the next place. And mark my words, that next place will absolutely, positively allow these little guys.

Back to life

Vacations are fun. They're even more fun when you get to do vacation-y type things with your significant other, instead of with your significant other and your dad. But hey--it's not my dad's fault he wanted to spend every free minute with his daughter who he hasn't seen in over a year.

 Hi, Daddy! You're on the internet!

Nor is it my dad's fault that Rad Boyfriend and I left our party clothes at his house in Boca Raton before we left to attend a wedding three hours away in Orlando, causing us to spend our only free day at a mall.

A mall that's near something called "Holy Land Experience." (??)

But you know what? We still had a blast.

Because we were together. (Commence vomiting in 3, 2, 1....)

How I know I'll (someday, in the future, years from now, and not now) make a good mommy

When I was 13, my cousin Julia was born. And I couldn't have been more ecstatic! Being an only child, I begged my parents for years to have another baby. "I want someone to play with!" I'd say. "You have your cousin Nicolle to play with!" they'd counter. And so it went. For years, we were the youngest two people in our family, the only cousins close enough in age and relation and physical proximity to play together.

Until my aunt, Nicolle's mother, remarried and got pregnant. And oh how happy I was! A baby! To play with and feed and cuddle with and teach naughty words to! (Ed. note: teaching a 1-year old to say "Truck you" is HILARIOUS.) And so a few days before Easter Sunday 14 years ago, very early in the morning, Julia Veronica was born. And she was cute and perfect and cuddly and awesome.

As she got older, I would go over to my aunt's house to help out. I'd let my sleep-deprived aunt sleep in while I got up with Julie and fed her breakfast, I'd change her diapers, play with her, teach her naughty words, everything I said I wanted to do with her.

And one day I was coming down the wood stairs in my socks. Julie was about 10 months old and wearing a fuzzy, white footy pajama thing with a big brown bear on the front--I will forever remember that. I must have just gone up to get her from a nap. I took three steps down the staircase and BOOM. My socked feet flew out in front of me on the slippery varnished parquet and I hit the steps hard on my back. My instant--and I mean INSTANT--reaction was to hold Julie to my chest with my left arm and cup the back of her head with my right hand, instead of bracing my fall or catching my footing. We slid all the way to the bottom of the stairs like that, her pressed against my chest and me stifling my screams so as not to scare her. At the bottom of the steps I propped her on my lap and looked at her, trying to determine if I'd a) killed her in the fall or b) suffocated her from holding her to tightly. She wasn't crying...she was just blinking. She had this half-dazed, half-sleepy look on her face like she was all, "Dude, what just happened?" And then she stuck her fingers in my mouth and looked towards the kitchen and I knew she was fine. I sat there for a good minute, just looking at her, thinking about what could've happened. The fact that I'd just descended 13 steps on my spine didn't even cross my mind.

I carefully got up and stumbled into the kitchen and put her in her high chair. Only after I put some Cherrios in her tray did I stop to examine my wounds: bruised butt, check. Bruised coccyx, double check. Bruised entire-lower-back area, check. Aching spine and head? Yup. Bruised elbows? Oh yeah. I pulled my shirt back down and looked at Julie. She was smiling up at me with whole grain O's all over her face. I took her tiny hand and said, "I'm sorry, kid. I promise I won't ever scare you like that again." And almost like she knew what I was saying, she squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to her face. "I'll take that as a 'you're welcome," I said to her.

The moral of the story? There is none. Just that 14 years later, she's alive and well. And you can tell from the picture below that she just loves that I still call her "kid."

How I know my family still loves me even though I moved 3,000 away from them

My mom called me this morning to tell me that I will be receiving a package in the mail. The contents of said package?

"Well, you know your grandmother. Once she gets an idea into her head, there's no stopping her. She wanted to send you an Easter package. She made sweet bread, so she sent you some of that. And a smoked sausage from that deli you like. And two hard-boiled eggs that you may or may not want to throw out by the time you get the package. It's all wrapped in a frilly apron that she bought for you. And when I say frilly, I mean it's frilly. Also, be careful when you throw the box away because she also put $20 at the bottom for you."

You guys, how cute are they?!

So how will y'all be spending your Easter? Church or no church? Dressed up or casual? Are you going to your family's house, or are you hosting? I myself will be going to church in my Sunday best, which will be followed by some day-drinking and dinner at the Rad Boyfriend's family's house. And when your Rad Boyfriend has three teenage step-siblings, one brother and sister-in-law, one 3-year-old half sister, and a bevvy of entertaining relatives that regularly throw each other into the pool fully clothed, your Easter Sunday is sure to be fun =)

I've taught her well

Me, trying desperately to open a stubborn bottle of wine: Sometimes you just gotta put it between your legs and pull.
Aunt: That's what she said!
Mom: Oh my God Danielle, why did you teach her that?
Me: Hey, it's not my fault she's a quick study. I said it once, and all of a sudden she was throwing it around like a pro.
Aunt: That's what she said, that's what she said!!

Thanks. I think?

Scene: Cousin and I are talking about a guy I recently met.

Me: But she says he always goes for girls who need fixing, the wounded birds.
Cousin: Oh well then he definitely wouldn't like you.
Me: Gee, thanks!
Cousin: No, I mean because you're not a wounded bird. You're an eagle. An eagle that soars. Soaring motion with hand.

FINALLY!

I mentioned last week that someone (ahem...Nona....ahem) woke me up on Friday at 6:30am. Why? Because the plumber was supposed to come and fix a leak in our bathroom, and 6:30 is apparently a reasonable time to begin preparing for such an event.

For those of you who don't know me personally, let me give you some insight into my living situation: home is a two-family house in Queens, the house where I've lived for my entire life. Mom and I are on the first floor, while Nona lives upstairs. Nona grew up with 8 brothers and sisters and no bathroom, so she consequently has no sense of personal boundaries. She often does things like walk in on you while you're in the shower to ask if you want soup. And call you at 6:30 in the morning to tell you the side door is locked and she can't get into your apartment, and oh my God, the plumber is coming and she NEEDS to be there because clearly I'm not capable of listening for a doorbell. At 6:30 in the morning. Because that's when plumbers typically begin work: before sunrise. Did I mention this was at 6:30am? No? Well it was actually 6:26.

The point of the story isn't to call my grandmother out on her annoying habits (although I could dedicate a blog entirely to that subject.) The point of this story to inform everyone that IT has begun. The IT that this house has been anticipating for decades. The IT that began with painting my room, the IT that required my mom to refinance her mortgage (4.625% APR, holla!), the IT that will increase the resale value of this property by at least 10%. Yes my friends, RENOVATION IN THE DSB HOUSEHOLD HAS FINALLY BEGUN!!



We're starting with just a few minor repairs in the bathroom. We'd love to get rid of that 1990's baby blue theme, but we're sticking to fixing some leaks and replacing the floor. The rest will have to come later.

First on the list: pulling up the seafoam green carpet that's been gracing my bedroom floor since 1992 and putting down some awesome bamboo flooring.

Second: the kitchen. Gutting it completely. Kocking down walls, pulling up tile, and installing brand new cabinets, countertops, and appliances. New lighting. New kitchen table. (And a wine fridge!)

Third: the living room. Installing some built-ins with a fireplace, and lighting. We have new hardwood floors and modern furniture, but the 1970's wall unit and some other accessories remain. Like this thing:

And that mirror. I hate that mirror. That mirror has been in the living room since I was born and it needs to go. Anyone interested in purchasing it? I'm dead serious.

If there are any funds left over, we'll focus on getting rid of the baby blue in the bathroom. It's perfectly functional, but it's just so....blue.

Mom and I are off to pick up the bamboo flooring this afternoon. Once it's installed, those pictures I promised back in January will finally be posted. I can't tell you how happy I am to finally be getting rid of this:

Top 10 reasons why living at home is awesome*

Not my house

We'll start with the obvious...

1. Free cable, internet, heat, water, gas, etc.
2. When someone else does laundry, you are often asked if you have anything to "throw in."
3. You get all the family gossip firsthand, while it's happening.
4. When something major breaks or goes wonky (like the stove exploding), not only is it not your responsibility to fix it, but unless asked, you don't have to spend hours on the phone with a landlord/super/maintenance person trying to convince them that no, you can't live without a toilet for another day.
5. Coffee. Guaranteed. Every morning. Without fail.
   
6. If mom subscribes to the New York Times or People magazine, that means you get to enjoy it when she's done.
7. You don't have to travel on holidays.
   
8. Space to store all the crap you've accumulated from apartments-past.
   
9. You get to enjoy stuff you have neither the space nor money the keep, like a trampoline or Bose surround sound system. Or a German Shepard.
10. There is almost always food in the house, if not cooked especially for you.

*While all great, these things are only awesome if you are single and haven't already lived on your own for an extended period of time. Moving back home after a divorce, for instance, might not be so awesome. Moving back home when you make diddly and have student loans to pay back, pretty awesome.

Still sick

Yup, I'm still sick. That doesn't mean I got out of hospital duty, though. My mom's uncle had double knee replacement surgery on Monday and I have been anointed the "one who shall do everything and anything related to his surgery." Duties include going to every pre-op doctor's appointment with him, filling out his medical forms, driving my aunt to and from the hospital (IN MANHATTAN) every day, speaking with the nursing staff and physical therapists to make sure he's comfortable, and choosing a rehabilitation facility for after he gets out of the petri dish hospital. After he gets home, I'm sure some other duties will be added: doing his bills, perhaps collecting rent from his tenants, maybe even attending his granddaughter's school play. You know, because that's what family does for each other.

What was that? You say you wouldn't do all that for anyone but your mom? Yeah well.... that's how we roll in this family. You bite your tongue and do favors in hopes that someday, when you're laid up in a hospital bed getting pumped full of morphine, someone will come in and say, "Relax. I took care of everything. You just worry about getting better."

On a "this day couldn't get any better" note, last night as I pulled up in front of my aunt's house after 7 hours in the hospital, we were greeted with this lovely scene of 20 twenty firetrucks, ambulances, police cars and nosy neighbors:


I had no idea what was going on at first, but I heard helicopters. And any New Yorker knows that when you see News Chopper 7 floating around above your head, whatever's going on must be BIG. Then I noticed the smoke:


Turns out some dumb-dumb was replacing a boiler in his basement and it exploded, causing the whole building to go up in flames. After being stranded at my aunt's house for 2 hours (ok, so we ate Chinese food and watched TV, we weren't exactly stranded) I walked out and saw that the FDNY had left the local residents a little present:


An open fire hydrant. That flooded the street. In 20-degree weather. SMART!

I'm off to the hospital now. Feel free to leave me lots of comments so I have something to do in between being told what demands to make of the nursing staff!