Merry Christmas! I'm Getting Fat

Ok, so I'm not getting fat by American standards. I'm probably not even near average for good ol' USA. But I'm slowly and steadily gaining weight, even if I'm the only one that notices.

September

December

Of course, eventually someone is bound to notice. And that someone is Daddy.

Yesterday morning, during Christmas breakfast...

Daddy: Wow, you're really eating a lot, Jilly. You finished your omelette and now you're eating two pieces of French toast? Daddy's never seen you eat like this.

I pause, thinking maybe I shouldn't eat all this.

Jilly: It's not... that much.

Mommy: You'd be surprised. She can eat more than you'd think and stay that small.

Daddy: What do you think? Now that you're married, you can eat as much as you want?

This was met by an "Ohhhhhhh" from the rest of the family, the type usually reserved for "yo mama" jokes on the playground. Daddy quickly laughed it off, assured me he was kidding, and kissed me one too many times on the cheek.

Daddy, we're not friends. When I can curse in front of you, you can make jokes.

Excuses For Not Cleaning

It just occurred to me that anyone reading this blog, who doesn't know me personally, might be under the misconception that I am a clean person, just because I criticize Daddy's cleanliness. Well, I'm not. I try, but I encounter problems, such as:

• It doesn't come naturally to me.
• I didn't learn proper habits until college, and then I only did it begrudgingly under the guidance of the cleaning chart my roommate Peggy made out of a paper plate.
• I'm busy.
• When I'm not busy, I'm lazy.
• I spend a lot of time writing bullet point lists.
• I'm a type B person so I don't really beat myself up for enjoying my weekends.
• I don't hate myself. In fact, I like myself so much that I find my own faults endearing, as if I'm Liz Lemon or Old Christine.

my anti-heroes

Of course, on TV, even slobs have clean houses. I mean, we slovenly viewers don't want to be forced to look at a house that looks just like ours....

Liz Lemon's Ikea furniture

Feel free to lend me your best cleaning excuses.

Daddyism #3

Rabbit Rabbit.

"People are crazy with running red lights."

Daddy and I are picking up Tex Mex.

Daddy: You know, these people are crazy with running red lights.

Me: Uh huh.

Daddy: It's like, I think I'm cutting it close at a light, and then I look in my mirror and see two people go through after me.

Me: I know.


(Daddy has been known to stop at yellow lights.)

Back Home Sitcom, Ep. 1

INT. NEWLYWEDS' BEDROOM - MIDDAY (SUNDAY)

Jill and Tom prepare to leave for the day. Jill puts her laptop in her purse as Tom slips on his jacket. There is a knock at the door. Jill opens it to reveal Daddy.

DADDY

Have you two been eating

in here?

JILL

(Guiltily) Um, yes.

DADDY

Daddy would really prefer

if you didn't eat in here.

This isn't college.

Jill glances at the mini fridge in the corner.

JILL

It feels like college.

DADDY

Yeah, I see that... Just 
eat in the kitchen please.

JILL

(Hangs her head) Ok...

Daddy closes the door as he leaves. Jill looks up at her husband.

TOM
(Whispers) I'm still

gonna eat in here.

A Very Special Blog Post

I hate to get serious, ever, but it's hard for me to laugh about the ridiculousness of living with my dad when I'm actually pissed off...

Daddy is nosy. My mom calls him a yenta. I mostly accept him but it's tough sometimes.

credit

He's been known to ask me inappropriate questions about money. I have no idea how much he makes but he thinks it's fine to ask me how much I make. Whatever.

He has repeatedly asked me, although I have told him many, many times, how much my MBA cost, how much I paid up front, and how much I owe. You know what? He paid for 20% of my graduate degree, which was generous and I did not expect, so if he really needs to know how much I owe in student loans, no big deal.

He also asks me how much I owe in credit card debt, which is patently none of his business. But, it's not that big of a deal to me. I've told my friends and it's not like I have a shopping addiction or something. I just have debt from throwing what constitutes a very modest New York wedding. So fine.

He started getting on my nerves a while ago when he told me, very cautiously at first, that, in his opinion, with a CPA and MBA, I should be making more money.

This pisses me off not because it's nosy, but because it proves that he doesn't know me at all.

Yes, if I sold my soul and went back to public accounting, I could be making a few tens of thousands more than I'm making now. But let's look at the costs:

• Dreams of becoming a writer. (No time to write when you're working every night and weekends.)
• Free time to spend with family, friends and husband.
• Mental and physical health.

Maybe he doesn't care about my writing dreams or free time but the mental health part is non-negotiable. I literally had a nervous breakdown and spiraled into depression at my old job. Guess what? If you can't get out of bed in the morning, your income prospects are severely limited.

Sorry, this is getting really personal. Anyway...

And he seems to think Tom's finances are his business too. So the other day, he's talking to me about how I should really be saving money for a house (because that's all a married woman can dream of, right? No chance I might want to have flexibility to travel?) and I'm nodding and he says:

"And Tom is talking about going to the Olympics in Russia, and I'm like 'Dude, you have $XXX in debt.'"

[Silence.]

Seriously, what the fuck? Does he really think I'm going to take his side over my husband's? And yes, our student loan debt is astronomical. Yes, it's terrible and it's going to take forever to pay off, but what are you saying? We're not allowed to travel for the next 30 years? And I don't even want to go to Russia but he's turning me into a rebellious teenager and now I want to go out of spite!

So I'm stewing, and he continues on about how we'd be surprised how much money we can save if we really try [Trust me, living with Daddy IS trying!] and then he says "You know, it seems to me that you should both be making more money." Enough!!!!

So I say "Daddy, you know, you're getting a little nosy."

And he says "Well, you're living rent-free in my house."

Oh! Didn't know his offer to live with him came with strings attached! 

This is bullshit. Yes, I'm lucky to have him. But I also have a mom and a mother-in-law and a husband's aunt with an empty apartment in Brooklyn and friends and enough money that I could still live on my own (if I never want to pay off my credit card debt) so, you know? Shit, fuck it.

I am tempted to just move out now but Tom is really sick of moving.

I guess I have to have the talk... you know the one, accompanied by sappy music at the end of any very special episode.

Really, my dad just wants to help me make my life perfect. Too bad I've got my own ideas.

Sorry for getting so real with you guys.  To counterbalance this very special post, tomorrow I will post a list of Ms. PC's personal favorite very special episodes.

The Shower Head Incident

Tom and I moved into Daddy's a few weeks ago and immediately noticed that the shower head was super low-flow, which, as we know from Seinfeld, is not good.

my first homemade gif

We bought a new one about two or three weeks ago but didn't install it right away because we couldn't find a wrench. So we got around to it on Friday.

Oh, and when I was at Home Depot, I called and asked Daddy if he wanted me to buy a new faucet for the bathroom (also an issue). He kind of panicked and said that no, we would go after work one night and pick one out together. 

I just want to say right now that I don't give a shit about picking out the new faucet. I just want one with working knobs. Meanwhile, he hasn't done anything about that yet.

Anyway, we changed the shower head without asking. [Dun dun dun!]

#SixSeasonsAndAMovie

Sunday, we got a talking-to:
"Daddy doesn't like unilateral decision making."

Too bad Ms. PC doesn't like low-flow shower heads.

I guess I feel bad because I don't want him to feel like we're taking over his house. But I just don't think he'll do anything if I don't do it myself.

Exhibit A:

my girly stuff juxtaposed with the ultimate bachelor faucet

But anyway, Sunday night I decided to take a nice, long shower in celebration of our new-found water pressure. Unfortunately, the water went completely cold after about 12 minutes.

I told Daddy and he said "That's why Daddy had a regulator in the old one."  Whoops.

6 Things You Forgot About Using The Phone In The 90s

Apologies for not getting my posts out this week but I get a hurricane pass. Daddy got power back yesterday but now the Internet is out. Also went to the library today but their wifi was out too. So I'm typing this on my phone and hoping to upload it in a rare moment of 3G coverage.

So much to talk about. For example...
Crazy gas lines + traffic lights out = full-tilt jungle madness

[Imagine your own Mean Girls gif here. I really can't from my phone.]

Computer edit: try this one.

But my family was very fortunate that we didn't have flooding and none of our persons or property were lost. Daddy's power was out for 4 days and Mommy's has been out for 5 and counting, but we're making the most of it. We've been drinking wine and playing board games at Mommy's every night.

My point is that I have nothing to complain about. However, I am now going to educate you on a little something we call "landlines."

actual phone

We are lucky Mommy kept her old landline from before they got Fios, or we wouldn't even have service. Plus her old corded phone that she dug out of somewhere. And when you can't charge your cell (and then the cell towers go down) it's nice to have a landline. But here are some things you may have forgotten about old school landlines.

1. No caller ID. The phone rings and you have no idea if it's a loved one, a telemarketer, or your stalker. You just pick it up.

1a. Besides not knowing who it is, you also don't know who it's for. At one point we had up to 7 people hunkered down at Mommy's. So you just answer it like "hello?" and then the caller has to, like, say who they are and why they're calling.
Except sometimes they don't. Because they're not used to 90s phones either. So they're just like "Helllloooo having fun???" and you're like "um what?" and eventually figure out it's Aunt Kath's sister in Colorado.

2. Everyone shares one phone. So, if you want to call someone, but someone else is using the phone? You have to... wait.

3. The phone is connected to the wall. So, you can't really walk places. Even if everyone decides to start having a conversation and/or turn up the News Radio 88 right next to you.

4. If you hang up but don't really hang up right... you might hear "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again..." and if you don't hear that you'll almost definitely hear some super loud beeping.

5. Sometimes, after dialing, you might hear... "All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later." or this weird thing called a busy signal. This has actually been happening kind of a lot.

6. There's no browser on your landline. With no internet, you dial 4-1-1 and tell a recording the name of the person or business whose number you need. You are charged extra for this service because they know you must be desperate.

Seriously not complaining. I actually think its funny to relive my childhood. Makes me grateful for the device on which I wrote this entire post. Oh, and now that I'm done, I found out the internet started working again. But since it's 2am, this is what you're getting.

Feel free to share your most cherished inconveniences of the 90s.

Daddyism #2

Rabbit Rabbit.

"You know, you really should be eating more fruit."

My husband, the chiropractor, enters the kitchen.

Daddy: There's a pear in the fridge if you wanna take it for lunch.

Tom: No thanks, I'm ok.

Daddy: You know, you really should be eating more fruits and vegetables. I mean, I'm not trying to tell you what to do but you really should be eating more fruit.

Ladybugs and Omens

When my parents first moved into their house in Huntington, Mommy found ladybugs everywhere, and she felt like it was her mother's spirit looking after her.

an especially ugly ladybug gif

Ladybugs have always been a special symbol of good luck in my family. There was a ladybug on my leg the day my team won the xAct (xTREME Accounting) local case competition at Binghamton (full on nerd in the house - TF3 forever!) And other than that... I can't remember a specific time when ladybugs have really brought luck but I've always liked them and I got a ladybug tattoo on my hip on my 21st birthday and no you can't see it.

On Sunday, Tom and I returned to this house, which is now Daddy's house. And we were greeted by a different insect...

Bees.

Now, in Tom's family, bees are considered bad luck. Well, it's not so much a family superstition as Tom just doesn't like them because he was stung multiple times as a kid and, really, who needs a bunch of bees around?

When Tom and Daddy went to move our mattress, there was one on the mattress cover, which seemed to be injured. Daddy vacuumed him up. Later, I found one on the bathroom window, which Daddy shooed out. Then there was a dead one on one of Daddy's several keyboards.

Finally, we found the source: the nest in our bedroom window. 

Bees.

Daddy said he'll knock it down but he didn't say when. Then he said "This house just seems to attract bees." Bees.

As we were leaving, a bee landed on our windshield. We then went to the park to enjoy the weather for a few minutes...

And as soon as we sat down, three bees landed on our bench.

Bees.

If my mom took the ladybugs as a sign that she was supposed to be here, what are the bees trying to tell me?

Bee Afraid!

Tonight will be our first night staying at Daddy's.

Mommy's House

Who can resist a look in someone else's house? I used to live at street level on Mott Street, so trust me: no one. It was like living in a freaking store window...

My mom's house is precious, as we say in my family. In fact, we say precious (adj.), preciousness (noun), or preciousing (verb).  As in: "Mommy is preciousing up her dining room." or, the more general: "How precious." (to be said in a mocking tone).

This is a good example of preciousness...

  

precious dolls and dishes above the precioused out window

Here's the dining room...

And one of several wine racks....

Kitchen...

ok, I bought the gourds so maybe I have a little precious in me

Living room...

my mom's super giant clock

still using the summer pillows - the winter pillows are much scratchier :(

The small but precious backyard...

the grill cover is Cutie's

Plus her house comes with precious cats like this...

Oreo

Or this....

Twinkie

Or these....

ok, so it's the same two cats

Mommy's house is my favorite place to be. It's always clean and organized, and filled with good food and family and girly movies.

But now... we're off to Daddy's, which as we know from the preview is not so precious. To be honest, I don't even fully know what I'm getting into. I'll keep you updated.

Preview: Daddy's House

Remember 3 weeks ago when we were going to stay at my mom's for a week and then move into my dad's?

Here's an update: we're still at my mom's. The end.

Not really the end. But that would legit be enough of an explanation for anyone that knows my dad. Assuming you don't, however, here's the rest...

Daddy is still working on his cleaning and plumbing problems. The latest is that we should be moving in this week. (We'll see.)

As a preview of what's to come, here's what it looked like when we first moved our furniture into Daddy's:

that's the front door. and all our stuff.

He wasn't quite ready for us, so he just had the movers leave all our stuff in the foyer. 

peeking inside

It's cool because it'll be totally easy for us to move our solid wood furniture upstairs later. (I emphasize "solid wood" because I'm proud we've upgraded most of our Ikea furniture. I'm like totally grown up.)

In case you had been wondering why I started this blog... do you get it now? No, really. Ms. PC values feedback.

Guest Post: Alice of Huntington

My first week of commuting would have been infinitely more miserable without the guidance of my friend and seasoned commuter, Alice. More on that later...

Alice and I have come up with a mutually beneficial arrangement whereby I get a break once in a while and Alice gets to vent her frustration without the effort of starting her own blog.

If this helps my blog go viral (which she's assured me it will) you'll be hearing more from Alice...

couldn't find a non-drunk pic of us

so why not go all out? cir. 2007

In June 2011 I decided to pack up and leave the east coast for a job at Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, Arkansas to follow my dream of working in the arts. It went pretty well for a while, but for a myriad of reasons in July of 2012 I loaded all my possessions into a pod and headed back to NY.

Everyone keeps saying “Wow you must be so happy to be back!” Well, yes. And also, no. See, moving across country is really expensive and in Arkansas I paid $750 for a three bedroom two bathroom duplex. I’m not sure I could rent a closet in the south Bronx for that amount. So in order to get my finances in order I’ve moved back home.

Well, not exactly “home.” I’m living with my ex-stepfather Brian (my mother’s second husband, she’s now married to someone else) in his recently deceased ex-wife’s (the woman he was married to before my mother) house in Dix Hills. Still with me? My commute is a little over two hours each way and Brian very nicely drops me off and picks me up from the Huntington train station – kind of like when I was 12 and would go to the mall.

Soo…this is going to be interesting. At least I now have Jill to commiserate and have drinks at Tracks with.

credit

The Cast

In case you don't think like me for some reason (weird), you should know that I think of my life as a sitcom. Before I get any further into the story arc of this season, allow me to present the characters.

Main Characters

Jill (me) - Typical 20-something professional. I lost my burning desire to climb the corporate ladder a couple years ago but I work in a semi-important job to pay the bills. Like most people of my generation, I spend most of my time at work fantasizing about going back to college.

Tom (my husband) - A disillusioned chiropractor that actually is going back to college. But not in the fun way. Before he goes to PA school, he has to retake some of his prereqs from college because his credits expired (already? seriously?) so he's the "old" freshman on campus. He goes to school 4 days a week and works 3 days so I should just stop complaining right now. But I won't.

Daddy (my dad) - There is no need to give my dad a name other than Daddy because that is what he calls himself. Confused? You know the way a young father might talk to his two year old? "Daddy doesn't like it when you bite me." That's how my dad still talks to me. "You know Daddy's not big on birthdays." But you gotta love a guy that loves his little girls that much. 

His house is a mess but he's working on getting it cleaned up for us (at the last minute - wonder where I get it from).

Secondary Characters

Amy (my sister) - Amy has lived with us for the last 2 years in the city. She's renting a room from a girl in Queens for the time being. I'm going to miss having her around but Tom will not miss her cat Frosty and her constant shedding.

How could anyone be mad at this face?

credit: Rae

Gail (my mom) - Pretty awesome mom. Retired, lives about one mile from my dad. It's no secret that I wish we could live with her, but her house is smaller and fuller than my dad's.

Cutie (my stepdad-to-be) - Ok, his real name is Ron but my mom calls him Cutie and then my sister and I started calling him Cutie too because, I don't know, it's cute. He and my dad kind of have an Ashton-Bruce-8-years-ago thing going on, in that they get along and both cook (occasionally together) for family dinners. As a divorced kid, this is the most one can hope for.

Recurring Characters

I don't really know yet... my sister's boyfriend Ben? My mom's friend Aunt Kath that lives with her half the time? Maybe.

My friend Alice, who is also stuck living with her dad in Huntington? Definitely.

My in-laws, various Long Island friends of both Tom and me, my desperate alter-ego that attempts to manipulate a move back into the city? Probably.