Semi Swiss

The End of Semi Swiss

2010-09-07T21:24:00.000+02:00

Well it has been over a month since I left Switzerland and I figured it was time to put Semi Swiss to rest.

I decided to switch to a new website for my next blog (thank you to everyone for the positive reinforcement about my blogging skills--because of you all I decided to keep going in Turkey!) because BlogSpot became too confusing for my limited computer capabilities. I hope you will all follow to my new blog on Tumblr (thanks to Luke for suggesting it!) and that it isn't too inconvenient a move.

The new blog is called, "Travels of an Overpacker" but the address is

http://jillcarr.tumblr.com/

I think one of my first posts will be about my weekend in D.C.--which is a shameless ploy to get you Neil (thanks again for reading) to head over to my new blog!

Click HERE to go there! (I'll just attach lots of links so it is easy to find!)

Thanks to everyone who read this, and to the people who felt obligated to read this. You are, by the way, now obligated to read my new blog.

Lots of Semi Swiss love,
jill

Childlike Travels Part 8

2010-09-07T01:29:00.000+02:00

The last of the European Diary:

Day 18
Aug 7
8:23 P.M.

Today we went to the sisteen chapell, where Leanardo Davinch had painted the cealling this was so cool. but it's hard to look ["oo"s made into a face] up all the time we had little head setts to use.

Day 19
Aug 8
9:17 P.M.

Today we drove to Pisa (Leaning Tower) [Leaning Tower of Pisa drawn] for half an hour. Then we drove to Mr. Crones house. [Side note: Mr. Crone was our architect who had recently redone our home in Maryland. He had a house in Italy on the border of France that he so generously let us stay at.] We are going to stay in it for two 2 weeks. We are spending 3 weeks in Itaily. I got a shirt in frienze. It to awhile to get to Mr. Crones house. and there were lots of tunnels through Itaily. Lots and Lots of Mts are here. [Picture of mountains.] It's hard to belive!! In Itaily

Day 20
Aug 9
8:59 P.M.

Today we got to Mr. Crones house no it did not take us 1 one night to get here last nigh we staued in Frienze. We went exploring (Jack and me) We got as far as some steps, and then Jack said [and I still remember this moment in time] "Jill you stepped on a dead Mouse!!" [Exclamation face is an attempt at a dead mouse.] Jack began to run to the house I followed. (Because I wanted to get off that MOUSE!!

Day 21
Aug 10
9:46 P.M.

Today we went swimming in a river that was very cold!! We went back to have lunch. Then we came back to the river

That officially ends my journal. I guess the joys of Fanghetto (the town in Italy) were too great to continue my entries. I did try to add another entry when I was older but it isn't the same (I mostly talk about this annoying Dutch kid that we met and how Jack and I really didn't like him--hey you wouldn't like a kid that only sang "We are the champions" and "If you're happy and you know it click your tongue!!").

So that concludes my Childlike travels. Semi Swiss will be ending soon but the good news is I have a new blog! To be revealed later this week.

Childlike Travels Part 7

2010-09-04T17:49:00.000+02:00

Day 15
Aug 4
8:32 P.M.

Today we explored Roma we walked on the spanish Boring!! steps [with a drawing of steps over the word]. Why are they the spanish steps in Roma. Here in Roma. Here in Rome people say it's Roma. So when in Roma do as the Roman's right?

Day 16
Aug 5
9:19 P.M.

We are spending 4 days in Roma. Today we walked to the Vadigin Museum. I was in two cities at once. [Drawing of me in two cities at once--me in a circle of Roma encircling Vatican city.] The Vadigin is the biggest church int he WORLD. ["O" in world is a drawing of the earth.] bELVE ME there are alot of churches in the world. Theres a statuw made out of brones and people have worn one of his feet down from petting it for good luck!! [Smiley faces in the good and !! with a drawing of a foot.] So did I! After that we had sandwiches for lunch after that I got a balloon with dow and it broked popped and you couldn't mold his face into anything. I was doing and inprression of a old man with wrinkles and powder cam out not all of it. [Drawing of my stress ball/balloon toy.] We went into cassttel saint Angelo. And we took a taxi to dinner we didn't want to drive. They drive fast without seatbelts.

Day 17
Aug 6
10:10 P.M.

Today we went to Pompeii today on a train well two trains. I made a friend from Canada her name is Sarah Carpenter, she is 1 or, 2 years old then me. She was on the first train. When we got out to change the train a con-arrtist tried to get us!! He didn't, he said "Chillout I work here." We didn't belive him. We went to a McDonalds for lunch [inset my mother's disapproval here]. I know we also have a McDolands on the day in Roma and Paris. [in Paris it was with my parents' friends--my mother was horrified every time we had fast food, all three times!]

Grade 4 Jill

2010-09-04T00:08:00.000+02:00

Found a "yearbook" signed by my fourth grade classmates. We all had to write letters to one another and I found this one to be pretty hysterical:

Dear Jill,

Because you are my arch enemy (as all other girls under the age of thirty) and I can't write anything bad about you I'll have to write strong and annoying compliments. I very much enjoy the way you and your friends attempt to annoy me. It gives me something to do when I'm bored.

From, D

This one came from the boy my best friend and I had a crush on:

Dear Jill,

Hi! It's me John. You are good at sports and have good sportsmanship. You are good at type-to-learn, and know a lot of things. You have good handwriting. But you do make weird a's. Well all in all its been a great year,

from,

John S.

The most recurring themes were my good sportsmanship (especially after I lost the Vice Presidential election for student council for the following year--to a kid with horrid teeth!), my athletic prowess, my nice handwriting and that I can give good speeches. I loved 4th grade.

Post Secret-ish

2010-09-03T06:04:00.001+02:00

I am currently in the process of cleaning out my room at home in Minnesota. My room is pretty much like it was when I left for college, most of my pictures are the same as are the decorations. Since I only live here a marginal percentage of the time it is only appropriate that my room be turned into an actual guest bedroom rather than a shrine to a teenaged girl.

I found this jar, the "Jar of Smiles", that we made and decorated in middle school with compliments from different girls in my class (I went to an all girls school so these types of things weren't as weird as they sound I assure you). There was a larger note inside with my name on it signed by a lot of my friends with inside jokes (none of which I really remember) peppered all over it. As I was reading it I found an unsigned comment, since it was anonymous it felt rather "Post-Secret-y."

Since I took the picture of it on my computer it is all backwards, but the top left corner says:

"You are so cool. You always know what to say & how to say it. I wish I did."

I have absolutely no idea who wrote it but it is that sort of sad/sweet thing you see on Post Secret. (And no, I did not write that about myself, my handwriting was much neater--I did however, draw my name. See above photo.) I hope that girl found her confidence.

Childlike Travels Part 7

2010-09-02T17:17:00.005+02:00

Today's journal entry has so many drawings I thought it best to just photograph it and let you all read it straight from the source:

The next day--clearly my dates were all getting messed up. Sorry! Never been good with numbers.

Remember the Time I Went to Crete?

2010-08-31T08:15:00.006+02:00

Remember the time I was going to post about my week(ish) in Crete? Well, that time has come. Only a month and a half late!

So I hopped on the one am ferry for Crete and got there around 5:15, just in time for my hangover to kick in. Ugh. I lugged my stuff to the bus station missing my first of two buses to Rethymno by literally three minutes. After purchasing the next ticket for a 6:30 bus I did what I did best in Greece and fell asleep at the bus station. I awoke around 6:15 and headed outside in case my bus was early. There were a lot of people waiting outside so I did what I did second best and struck up a conversation with strangers.

With a little bit of my usual luck the two girls I talked to happened to be heading to my small town of Plakias (we had to take a bus from Heraklion to Rethymno and then to Plakias). At first I wasn't sure if they liked me but I think the early morning bus schedules and my bright pink bag were deterrents to these world traveling Australians. By the time we got to Plakias we were great friends and by that afternoon everyone was asking how long the three of us had been traveling together.

Our youth hostel was described, in every bo

ok and on every website, as a great place to meet people (hence why I traveled there alone). The hostel was in a great location, totally beautiful just a little less "youth-y" than I had imagined. The manager gave us a little speech which was pretty entertaining, especially since he gives it to all the people staying at the hostel--word for word. A lot of people, the manager said, end up staying in Plakias for weeks, months and even years and I can see why. It is totally gorgeous. There are beaches and mountains, lazy activities and hiking trails. We took a waterfall hike (literally hiking up and through waterfalls) one morning and spent the afternoon lounging on the beach--pretty much like paradise.

Two things that I did in Crete that I had never done before:

1. Went to a nude beach. These Australian girls were from a town on the coast and they were a lot more comfortable with nudity than this American girl. But the beach, called "Pig Beach" due to the overabundance of Germans and their pink flesh-

-ick, was too beautiful to pass up. Plus, I figured, why not? None of these people know me! And, you know what? None of the people on the beach gave me a second look, they didn't care what I was wearing and that made me a whole lot more comfortable. I'm not saying I'm going to make it a habit (hello sunburn!) but it was slightly empowering. (Sorry if that is TMI dad/uncles.)

2. I hitchhiked!! I remember my dad telling me stories of hitchhiking around Europe (and I remember him hitchhiking in Providence, RI once whic

h was pretty funny) and again I thought, why not? My friend Kate and I were stuck coming back from the beach and so we decided we might as well try to hitchhike. After 15 minutes of walking with my thumb out (it was a 45 minute walk or a 6 minute car ride) a kindly Italian couple stopped and picked us up. Success!! (And we felt safe the entire time!) I'm glad I did it, at least once (with another person in broad daylight).

Childlike Travels Part 6

2010-08-31T05:00:00.002+02:00

I will do a regular post later this evening (back to two in one day!) but for now:

Day 12

Aug 1--which is crossed out and it looks like my father's handwriting that says July 21 on top of it, I'm not surprised he corrected it!

8:13 P.M.

Today we drove to Venic, on a closed road! [True story, we were literally driving around boulders. But, on the bright side, my family knows what "street closed" in Italian is!] We finaly got there. We had to bet a water bus to our hotel. That was so cool. [Smiley face in cool. And a picture of our car approaching a boulder or maybe the water taxi?] We're here in Venice it's O.kay. [Drawing of some odd face.]

Day 13

Aug 2 [Crossed out and 1 written above]

9:48 P.M.

The reason why I'm writing so late is so that I can tell you what's hapend and not what's going to hapen. Today we went walking around today. Me and my brother "Jack" [love that I used quotes--as if that weren't his real name] feed pigins today, at St. Mark's Square. They came right on your hand! [Picture of a forearm and a pigeon.] When they came near my mom got scared and said "They are rats with wings." (She hates rats, and pigins [And still does!] After that we had a gondola ride that was nice. Then we all had dinner. [Messed up picture of a violin or dinner plate or gondola? Unsure.]

Childlike Travels Part 5

2010-08-28T22:48:00.003+02:00

Day 10

july 29

8:29 P.M.

We saw Mozart's house, nice. [Drawing of a man at a piano, sort of.] We went into a fortric, that was so big, we had to take the funicula, like Bunicula! [Drawing of Bunicula, which was a book we had to read in grade 3.] Up to the top. When we came back to rest went to dinner, had fun head some Motzart [I think I meant heard] in the same day! Two Motzarts! [Drawing of two pianos] LA! LA! LA!!!

I'm going to get my alowince in Americane Money. So we can spend it there! [Drawing of a dollar bill.] Money

Day 11

july 30

10:56 P.M.

We where in the salt mine we had to take a cable car up. [Arrow.] We had to wear white suits for the slide they were fun I had to wear blue pants for small people [Drawing of a person with the word "small" on top and an arrow pointing down.] They need a fashion desginer for those alfit big time! [A picture of a more suitable outfit I think.]

We went swimming

YEAH [Picture of Jack & I swimming.]

(In the Alpine Lake)

Childlike Travels Part 4

2010-08-25T00:42:00.003+02:00

Day 8

july 27

10:00 P.M. [This was incredibly late for me at that age, we used to go to dinners so late that I would fall asleep at the table!]

WE DROVE! For 5 hours!

My family went to Louidwick's Castele. Over a brige, the first steel bridge in Europe. We drove some mor had dinner next to a nice little hotel. (I think?)

Day 9

july 28

9:19 P.M.

My dad's crestar card got stuck in the atm machine, when we wanted to get money, but we couldn't read the sing that said it was broken (it was in Germane) We went to the top of the highest mountain in Germaney. THE ZUCHSMITS That was COOL My mom freaked out. Wierd. [The picture follows because I just couldn't do it justice by describing it.]

Childlike Travels Part 3

2010-08-23T03:33:00.002+02:00

Hi all! Back from a great, albeit short, weekend in D.C. Once I load my pictures up I will do a complete D.C. post, but until then:

Day 5

july 24

8:00 P.M.

Today we saw the Mona Lesa and the Winged Victory and all the other thing, paintins, sculpturs, and all the other stuff. After that we went to an amusement park we each got to go on 3 (three) rides. I went on the fares wheel, the giant swings, fun house, and th log flume. Well realy 4(four) rides, I went on the fares wheel with my famliy. (+Jack got scarer on the log flume!)

**Two things: I really like how I write a number and then in parenthesis spell it out, like future me wouldn't know what the number 3 looked like. And I also like how I focus more on the kiddie amusement park over the Louvre.

Day 6

july 25

9:05: P.M.

I had to rent-a-car to go every where, that my family is going. I'm at a hotel watching the 1996 Olyimpix [Olympic torch depiction] games. I wish I were in Maryland. I saw [a is an eye] the PLANES! PLANES! PLANES! [Each underlined three times, I have no idea what planes I was referring to.]

I'm posting a third entry and this might be my most favorite because it highlights my family's Griswaldian-ness with such childlike nonchalance:

Day 7

july 26

9:00 P.M.

Today I smashed my finger in the car, my mom forgot How to turn the car on. We had a picnic lunch. It was not THE BEST DAY! We had our room to the hotel, that was good. [Smiley face made out of the "oo"s in good.] It was called "Stien on Rhien", because it was next to the Rhien River. Me and my brother have been collecting rocks from the Rhien River. We tooured around it was FUN!! [Smiley face with lots of hair at the top of the !!]

Childlike Travels Part 2

2010-08-18T04:20:00.003+02:00

Day 3

july 22

6:00 P.M.

We saw alot today, like the Eiffel Tower (we went to the top) it was a great view!! [Smiley !! and a drawing of an eye to dot the "i" in view], on a boat and saw where the Mona Lessa, I don't know how it's speeld, is kept in a boat where the Queens head was chopped off!! [This is an intricate drawing of eyes for the .. in the exclamation marks attached to a chopped off head and an axe] We saw a palles, we played with boats, listend to music in the garden of the palles we rode the motorbus and walked Around PARIS [Eiffel Tower "A" again] Went to a FLE MARKET There was a shirt I wanted it was a map of PARIS [Eiffel Tower "A"] it was 49 franks I did not get it I liked it. My brother got a shirt of the Eiffle Tower in PARIS [You guessed it] It was lite UP!! [The !! were pointing up with a smiley face on the bottom]

Day 4

july 23

8:15 P.M

Tonight we are going to see Empire Records [Phil & Marti took Jack and I out so our parents could enjoy a night sans kids. And thus my first entry into the world of secondhand embarrassment. Even at the tender age of nine I remember Liv Tyler embarrassing herself.] and have dinner. Today, I had my portret drawn by a very nice lady, she did a good job drawing it. She said "You pose well."

I have 20 ("twenty") metro tickets some were my parents but they were mostly mine. I am colecting all these tickets two from the Eiffle tower and more to come!! [Smiley face !! and a drawing of a ticket]

Throwback

2010-08-17T05:20:00.005+02:00

Sorry I've been so bad about writing since I've been home. I guess I just don't think about Semi-Swiss as much! I do love being home and seeing my family and friends. This weekend my mom and I are heading to Washington, D.C. to visit my grandma and our friends and family from when we lived there (and, of course, the Denisonians that are there too!). I'm definitely excited to be going back, it's been years since I've been there.

The first time I went to Europe I was nine years old and my family went for five weeks. That is a dream vacation for me now but five weeks [of summer vacation!] when you're that age isn't ideal. My art teacher at the time gave Jack and I bears to take with us to photograph in different locales as well as journals to write about the trip. I didn't make it through the whole trip but the stuff I have I love to read. It makes me crack up (especially the misspellings and drawings that go with the entries). I thought while I'm home I'll give excerpts from my first journey to Europe.

It starts off a little slow (with a lot of complaints--guess some things never change!) but soon I think you'll realize why we call ourselves the Griswalds. When I use the brackets its to describe a picture I have subsequently drawn.

Day 1

july 20

10:15 P.M.

Tower Air!! (with a smiley face using the .. from the exclamation points as eyes)

Horrible!! [Unhappy face on the !!] We have to fly to Boston, Mass. at night! I'm sitting next to my brother, Jack. I think he needs a psychiatrist!! BIG TIME!!!! He is giving me P.E.P. talks. Wierd. [Two of these.] Waiting is very hard, espeacily for three hours. It's not really fun waiting in an airplane it has been at least a half an hour. I'm still in Maryland, but it feels like I'm far away. Goodbye.

Day 2

july 21

12:15 A.M.

Tower Air.

Okay, okay, okay mabe it isn't really july 21 well it is, it's 12:15 A.M. I'm in Boston, Mass. To tell you the truth I miss everything. My friends, bed, and house, plus alot more.The plane is so cool!!! [Smiley face!!]

[Later that day]

I'm not DEAD YET! HORRAY!! [Smiley face!!] So to tell the truth I don't think the trip is that bad. We have a great viwe! Well at least my brother does, he gets the window on the longer trip there. I get to sit in the window sett on the way back!

The food is bad, your ears pop, it feels wierd, like a rollercoaster, but wores! (I like rollercoasters!) [My first foray into the world of parenthesis.] It also makes me feel dissy!, sick!, bad!, and alot more! I couldn't get to sleep. They were showing the movie "The Bird Cage", you had to buy (use) some headsets to hear the movei in case some people were sleeping (HARD TO BELIVE!) Now we are at Phil, and Martha's house (Spin and Marti! My parents call them that) The are nice, not to menchon we're in PARIS. [A in Paris is a drawing of the Eiffel Tower.] We walked arround alot yesterday and saw the tour of France (Bikers but the also go in Spain) We went over the oldest bridge in France, belive me there are alot of bridges in FRANCE! We have are owne Appartment.

So that's Day 1 and 2 of our five week Tour de Griswald. I swear I think my family modeled our trip as closely to theirs as possible. More soon!

Wedding Crashers

2010-08-10T17:22:00.004+02:00

First: My parents come back today!!!! So very excited.

On another familial note; I went to the wedding of a good friend's cousin on Sunday. There were a number of things that were pretty entertaining about this wedding but I'll only give the highlights.

The ceremony: It was pretty run of the mill (not that I've been to a lot of weddings) but the pastor's "message" was a little out of the ordinary. I even asked our neighbors afterwards if that was usually how these things went. In short he said, "Well if you think you're in for a life of wedded bliss... you're wrong. Might not be tomorrow, or in five years or in 20 years or maybe 50 but one day you'll wake up and realize that the wife isn't as beautiful as you remembered. Or that this isn't the man you married." And then he went on to include a list of ailments that could and are likely to befall them throughout the duration of their marriage including but not limited to: disease, broken bones, natural disasters, ailing family members, a family member with a deadly diagnosis, "or perhaps it will be one of you who you has the bad diagnosis," or "the call that a family member was in a car accident, hit, mercilessly, by a drunk driver." (I kid you not he actually brought up drunk driving in a wedding ceremony.) At this time Luke and I were doing our best not to crack up, which, as you know only leads to more laughter. It was actually ridiculous.

After the ceremony I was in the receiving line to introduce myself to the bride and groom and offer my congratulations. I started chatting with a bridesmaid behind me and we got on the subject of au pairing abroad. I told her it would be much easier to get a higher paying babysitting job if she had a European passport which she said she did. I, being very envious of such a passport, asked her which country it was from. Her: "It's from America." Me: "No, you're European passport." Her: "America." Me: "You mean you have an American passport?" Her: "Aren't they all the same?" A college graduate ladies and gentlemen!

The very same bridesmaid asked if I was going to "boogie down" at the reception and I told her I would be. Then, she excitedly told me there was going to be a "candy bar." No bar bar, but a candy bar. I told her I was excited but left out that I was more excited for the open bar that Luke had prepared in the trunk of his car. Luckily Luke's family members that we were sitting with all imbibed in the adult beverages that we created so we all had a great time.

The wedding was a blast and I'm glad Luke brought me along (thanks!). And if anything, we treated it like an anthropological study of another super-religious-conservative culture.

Oh, and as most of you know I abhor PDA (public displays of affection). I am fairly certain that I am allergic to them. There's a wedding tradition (that I didn't know of until Sunday) where when people clank on their glasses the bride and groom are supposed to stand up and kiss. If I ever do get married and someone tries to do that at my wedding they will be asked to leave. (Kristen I'm warning you now.)

Dog Days

2010-08-07T01:18:00.000+02:00

It was also nice to have a dog when you accidentally dropped food on the floor to not have to worry about picking it up.

Today some pesto fell out of my wrap (I'm sorry Cubby, I know how you feel about the pesto) and I didn't think about it. I then paused and looked around as if to say, "What the heck? Where is BJ to lick the floor clean?" Sort of sad. And yes, M&D, I did clean it up.

Homeward Bound

2010-08-07T00:31:00.003+02:00

Well, I'm home.

I actually can't quite believe it yet and I keep walking around exclaiming things (like, "Holy cow this lunch is less than five dollars!" or "I can KEEP filling up my drink? For free? With ice?" and "I love this country!"). So it pretty much all has to do with food and the price of food.

The Father dropped me at the airport with my very full suitcases. I went to a line that wasn't open to weigh my bags and figure out what I could throw away. The first was right at 50 pounds (or 23 kilos) and the second was about six pounds over. I made some moves (taking out a pair of shoes) when a cute-ish employee came over. The next move was something that has never happened and probably won't happen again. He said he would open the counter to check my luggage and then didn't care that it was a little overweight. He let me luggage slide. I guess it was Switzerland's way of ending on good terms. The flights were long (Zurich, New York, Chicago then Minneapolis/St. Paul) but nothing I (and the kindly gentlemen who had to hoist my rolling carry-on into the overhead bins) couldn't handle.

My good friend Cubby picked me up at the airport (thanks again, Cub!) and we headed back to my place with a little tour de White Bear Lake. (Why, you might wonder, did my parents not pick me up? They are on vacation! But in their defense, their trip was planned way before I booked my ticket home.) We sat out on my deck and caught up, although as he is a Semi-Swiss reader he knows most of my good stories, and talked about how it was weird to be sitting on my deck, doing the same things we did in high school but only five years later. I went to bed relatively early (so far not too jet lagged) and let me just say: My bed is awesome. I had forgotten how comfortable and fantastic that sucker really is.

After running errands and a much needed haircut I had lunch with Allison. She said, "It's weird that the last two times we've seen eachother have been in America." It's definitely true of people you meet in one medium (home, college, abroad) to see them in another context. Allison is so great though (aside from the usual things) in that we can get together and be telling approximately eight different stories at one time and still follow the other's. It's great to be back.

The only thing that is a little difficult is my house. It's not that I don't love being in my house it's just the absence of a dog that's tough. I keep waiting to hear the jingling of BJ's collar somewhere or to feel his wet nose on my leg/face/arm when it's time to be fed. It's definitely a little more lonely here but I plan on getting my fix tonight at my friend Ben's house with his dogs Tess & Tucker.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

A Change Will Do You Good

2010-08-05T00:57:00.003+02:00

People say living in Europe changes you.

Aside from a few speech changes (I say "holiday" instead of "vacation" and "university" instead of "college") my changes didn't come from living abroad (except I might be a better sprinter after public transportation), they came from my friends.

The friends I have made here have been nothing short of incredible. And I feel so very fortunate to have met them.

Here's what they have taught me/how I've changed:

Allison: To be open to people of all ages (happy birthday lady!) no matter what purse they carry. I owe so much of my initial happiness here to you.

Kate: You taught me that a little dose of well directed rage and standing dates do wonders for the soul. And that it's okay to have that rage sometimes.

Kristen: I learned that it's okay to love America. And that a cocktail is good no matter the hour-hello Oktoberfest! And that my blog really isn't so bad.

Pei Wen: How to laugh at my jokes and everyone's jokes. How laughter makes everyone feel better.

Danielle: That having fun going out is all about attitude. And to rally!

Chris: Taught me to be open to all people, especially when traveling. He taught me that everyone is worth getting to know and because of that we've met some amazing people.

Allie: Life isn't just black and white, there are shades of grey in every situation. And to be tenacious/persistent, you'll eventually get where you should be (woo RN!).

Nick: I learned that thinking before doing might not be so bad (like in Pictionary). Poison Sumac!

Sarah: Taught me that loving, healthy relationships can turn to marriage, even before you're 25. And that it's okay. Thank you for showing me normalcy!

Nickie: That it's okay to be an adult.

Adam: I learned that a little research, especially in regards to bars and/or music, goes a long way and lead to great discoveries.

Phil: Taught me that I'm pretty awesome (just kidding-ish). He made me realize how much I missed having boy-friends and showed me how much fun it can be. You, my dear, are a blast. Rugrats!

My Aussie friends in Crete (I will elaborate later!): Taught me to be more comfortable in my own skin, literally.

Switter/Kristina: I learned to hate Cruz Campo with you. And how to be loving/forgiving/awesome without giving up your wit, charm or self. (You are amazing!)

So to those of you I mentioned and those that I undoubtedly forgot and will have to add later, thank you. I'm a pretty lucky duck to have met you all.

Packing Problem

2010-08-04T08:22:00.001+02:00

Did I not mention I was moving to Istanbul? Sorry! That's where the new job is located, or where I'll be located for the bit with the new job.

On a different note I am just about finished packing for home! (Yes I do leave tomorrow morning.) I just decided to weigh my bags and my first was just around 50 pounds. The second, being the one I thought I wouldn't even fill because most of my clothes fit in the first, came out to about 60 pounds. Damn. I've started taking things out to throw away (sad)--only a few more pounds to go! Where did all this crap come from??

Remind me, in a month when I'm packing again, that less is more. And even if you remind me, I'm sure I won't listen.

Also, since today is my last day here does that mean Semi-Swiss blog is over? I'm not sure if I should just keep this one going or start a new one altogether. I was going to start "Almost Australian" (come on, it's clever!) but now that's out. I'll be moving a bunch for my job so it's not all about Istanbul/Turkey. Any suggestions?

Stranger Danger

2010-08-02T12:52:00.004+02:00

I have always been a rather friendly person. I remember when I was first learning to read I read the Berenstain Bears books and there was one called, "Berenstein Bears Learn About Strangers." The Sister said hello to every stranger she met and then had to learn about good strangers and bad strangers. I remember feeling great anxiety that I was going to get into trouble too because I always talked to strangers. (Most likely when I sat in the shopping cart at Snyder's grocery store.)

Although I've learned to be more careful about who I talk to my friendliness has never really waned. I think it is partly due to the fact that I've lived in pretty sheltered environments my whole life. In my neighborhoods and schools in Maryland and Minnesota, at Denison and even in Vienna and Zürich people always greet one another. Even if you don't know them you'd smile and say "Hey," "Hello," "Hi," "Grüss Got" or "Grüezi." I feel very lucky to have lived in safe and friendly locations but sometimes, especially living in a country where you don't speak the language, it can be tricky.

I guess something about me says, "Hello strangers! Please talk to me!" If some wacky weather or slightly humorous situation is occurring whoever is by me on public transport will make a comment. This is usually no problem and I can smile, nod and either laugh or say "Ja, ja." Language barrier avoided and they think I laughed at their joke, everyone is happy!

Although I don't think I'll ever be un-friendly, I mean I've made some amazing friends because I've sat next to them and started talking but, I'm not exactly sure how well this will work in Istanbul, but I realize I'm going to have to be a lot more careful. Maybe I should re-read that Berenstain Bears book.

Might as Well Jump!

2010-07-31T18:34:00.004+02:00

Sorry I've been so absent, on Thursday I meant to write about how few days I had left in Zürich--I can't believe it is less than a week!

I've been thoroughly enjoying my last days here and today was (and will continue to be) awesome. Last night some friends were going to a going away party (not for me but I'll tag along!) in a farmhouse which was pretty sweet. Today we met up, swam in the lake and jumped off this high dive at a local bädi. A couple weekends ago the guys had jumped off this bridge (which they guesstimated to be around 35 feet!) and I wanted to be a part of that. While we were en route to the bridge (and I was en route to a panic attack) we saw people jumping off of this platform that had been set up a month ago for Züri-fest. The guys, of course, wanted to jump off. They asked a jumper if just anyone could jump and he said yes. Well, I couldn't not jump if they were jumping.

So we dropped our stuff (I think it is going to be a hard transition from a country where you can leave your purse/clothes/everything next to a park bench and not worry about it to a country where, well you just can't) and jumped into the water. Getting onto the smaller platform was fine, and even then the high platform didn't look that high. Then, a little kid climbed up and jumped making me feel bad about myself. Phil went up the ladder and then I decided it was now or never. Let me tell you, that stupid ladder was the scariest part! It was terrifying climbing up there and I told the guys, "I can't believe I have friends that would make me do this!!!" whilst simultaneously thinking "I'm going to DIE up there!" On the platform I was fine, heights don't bother me, apparently just ladders.

The view from the top was spectacular though (wish I had a camera!). It was a clear day so you could see out over Zürich and see the mountains in the distance--amazing, until you realized what came next. Once the four of us were up on the platform I decided I had to go first. I felt as if I would back out if I didn't (although there was NO way I was going down that ladder!). So after a round of high-fives, some jumpy hesitation and Adam starting a slow clap for the crowd (did I mention there was a crowd? It was at one of the busiest tram stops in the city and there was a bridge next to it where a semi-sizable crowd had gathered) I jumped.

It was a LONG way down. I hit the water and was happy to be alive but then a little unhappy because my bathing suit had seriously wedgied me. I thought, quite literally, that I was going to have to wear this swimsuit for the rest of my life because there was NO way that thing was coming out. (It's okay now, fyi.) The guys jumped and we all survived. Of course, they wanted to do it again. And of course, I wanted to too. The climb was no less terrifying exacerbated by the fact that I now knew how high we were. Adam asked the lifeguard how high it was and he said 10 meters (if you're not metric thats 32 feet). Holy mother of pearl that's high! I jumped first again (still worried I might chicken out) and the landing was much better. It was pretty incredible.

I'm still jumpy from the adrenaline rush. Thirty-two feet/10 meters! Holy moley my time in Switzerland just might be complete.

Wardrobe Malfunction

2010-07-28T10:43:00.003+02:00

In case you didn't know this about me: I love Denison University. Despite being a year removed from my university on a hill I still remember my Denison days with happiness and some longing. Though I don't often like to speak disparagingly about my school Denison failed to prepare me for a few things in life. Sure, I'll learn how to pay rent (some day), or pay a bill (I did, however, learn to pay a credit card bill) or maybe even have a functioning adult relationship, but there's one thing Denison failed to teach me that I don't think I'll ever learn:

How to get dressed to "go out."

Sure, I go out all the time. And, all the time, I am dressed. But, I've noticed that I don't dress like a lot of people when they go out. (This excludes my Denison friends, home friends and Switzerland-based friends, perhaps that's why we're friends!) Not to generalize (but to generalize) a lot of females, when they go out, are a lot more scantily clad. Nowhere was this more apparently than Greece. After a hard day at the beach I'd go shower and change into something to wear out. Upon rejoining the group I'd feel over-dressed, in the literal sense of wearing too much clothing. Girls were wearing denim boostier-corset tops, heavy makeup and heels and I well, wasn't.

See at Denison my wardrobe wasn't an issue, most people wore the same sort of things out: in the unusually warm fall and spring we'd wear a J.Crew "going out" top (usually of the silk variety) and shorts or a dress. In the winter we'd wear a dress with tights or jeans and a winter-y "going out" top. But, I've come to realize, that our "going out" tops are vastly different than a lot of other people's. I guess it never crossed my mind that this wasn't how people went out at other schools and it is one more reason why I love Denison. I'm not saying that we were all clones of one another (nor that the other ways of dress are wrong!) it was just nice not to have to worry about.

My freshman year of college for Thanksgiving my family went down to visit Jack at school in Florida. Now I got there a couple days before my parents and one of the first nights there we were heading to a party. I got dressed (J.Crew white t-shirt and green skirt) and his roommate (future girlfriend, now former girlfriend--woo!) said, "Don't you want to wear a top that shows your midriff?" This was, mind you, before the freshman fifteen had comfortably settled around my midriff. I replied without even thinking or hesitation, much to Jack's enjoyment, "I'm not that kind of a girl."

And I never will be.

Happy Tuesday!

2010-07-27T10:22:00.003+02:00

I am nearly a week away from my departure from Switzerland. It really is amazing how time flies!

I have thoroughly been enjoying my time off. I had forgotten how nice the early evening is, no pressure to go home and make sure children are bathed/fed/finished with homework. It is a wonderful change of pace!

I promise to finish my Greece adventures (hopefully today?) but now I am off to see: TB and TMoTB!!! They have just returned from their holiday (our weeks of vacation didn't coincide with one another's) and I am really excited to see both of them.

Yesterday when I was talking to TMoTB I said, "I wonder if TB will remember me!" And TMoTB said, "It will be a test to see how smart she really is."

Still love TMoTB.

Getting to Know You

2010-07-24T19:17:00.003+02:00

Warning: If you hadn't thought me an ungrateful brat deserving of public scorn this post is sure to turn your opinion. Just thought I'd warn you.

Thursday The Family wanted to take me to dinner to thank me and celebrate my year working for them, which was very nice. That afternoon Girl was making me a thank you gift (a cute candle holder) when Boy brought up my "real gift." Now since she is six Girl isn't the best at keeping secrets and said, "No Mummy is getting Jill that necklace."

Here's the thing, I know I should have felt grateful that they were giving me a necklace (and I do realize that it was very kind to get me a gift at all) it's just it reinforced how little they know and/or notice about me.

For my 22 birthday my parents gave me a necklace of my mother's that I had been coveting for a while and I've worn it every day since then. It's a small gold chain with a tiny little diamond affixed in the middle. It's not gaudy or tacky and I absolutely love it. I actually don't think I've taken it off during my Swiss tenure. I sometimes rotate my earrings (between three pairs) and I rarely wear any other pieces of jewelry so, it just seemed odd [to me] that they would give me a necklace.

At dinner that night I gave Boy and Girl "Oh the Places You'll Go" (I had wanted to give them a Shel Silverstein book but alas, they don't sell "Where the Sidewalk Ends" in Switzerland) with some pictures of us, as well as pictures to The Parents of Boy & Girl. Despite my being really, really poor when I can, I like to give thoughtful and/or meaningful gifts. They gave me a sweet card and then the necklace. Perhaps you might recall my birthday present (charm bracelet thingy), well it was from the same guy, Thomas Sabo, and it was a chunky-ish silver charm necklace with a big silver "J" and a pink glass/crystal heart. I smiled, thanked them profusely and even put it on but all I could think was, "That is just not me." When I showed it to my mom later she said, "That is something you would have worn when you were younger." And it is, when I was in my chunky silver Tiffany&Co. phase I would have loved it. I don't mean to sound like a brat but all I could think was, "Really?" Now The Mother has excellent taste (she is French afterall) so I was confused as to why this said, "Jill!" on it.

Boy told me a month or so ago that before my birthday they were thinking of getting me portable iPod speakers but deemed them "too cheap." That would have been a perfect gift.

I was entertaining the thought that maybe, like my dad, I'm just a hard person to buy a gift for. Then, the weekend before my last week with TB I babysat for TB and TBoTB. When I arrived TMoTB gave me a thank you gift. It was a beautiful Longchamp (the purses that I carry everyday). She said she had noticed I didn't have this make or color and I absolutely loved it. It was a perfect and extremely thoughtful gift.

Okay I'll stop complaining about people giving me presents now. Sorry about that.

Not to Be Dramatic But,

2010-07-23T19:13:00.002+02:00

Actually, to be totally dramatic:

To paraphrase the words of the intelligent Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (who's plight, I fully understand, was far greater and more difficult than mine):

"Free at last; free at last; thank God Almighty [I] am free at last."

And to quote the beloved, if only for humorous reasons, Celine Dion in regards to my sanity, patience and good humor:

"It's all coming back, it's all coming back to me now."

Scoot, Scoot Rider

2010-07-23T09:40:00.007+02:00

When you arrive in Santorini (real name Thìra) you can't help but be astounded at the place's beauty. The cliffs overlooking the beautiful sea are actually breathtaking. I got off the boat, headed to the guy holding a sign for my hostel and immediately met two Canadian lawyers who were to be my buds for the rest of the trip. I knew I was going to like this place.

I dropped my stuff at the hostel and headed out for dinner. I ate dinner (alone! How mature, or lonely) at a beachfront restaurant. On my way back I ran into my Canadian friends another Canadian lawyer (who had just spent the year teaching in Vienna! She and I clearly had a lot to discuss) and two Swedish guys they had met at their hostel in Athens. While they had dinner I drank (with them) and by the time we hit the next bar we were all enjoying ourselves. Note: It didn't matter how many shots of ouzo I took it was always disgusting. We ran into some Spanish girls on the way and expanded our party. We stayed out way too late (a recurring theme in Mykonos and Santorini) but it was a great night.

Somehow over shots of ouzo and half liters of wine I found myself agreeing to rent scooters to drive all over the island the next day. The guys had cheered to forming a "scooter posse" (something my dad would have said no doubt) so I didn't want to back out. It wasn't the price or the touring the island that worried me, it was the actual driving of the scooters. Now I am a pretty decent driver (parking ticket and speeding ticket excluded) but if my mother recalls, teaching me to drive was a pretty torturous process. When my grandparents lived in Florida I drove their golf cart and that was a terrifying experience. I was worried that if this was anything like that, I would be screwed. Now I'm not one to back down from adventure (or doing something that I think will make a funny blog post later) and this was no exception. The man we rented them from was a little nervous to rent me one but the guys explained it was fine, that I had ridden a scooter before. Yeah, ridden on a scooter. My brother had one for about a year in college (still make fun of him for that) and we rode it to a parking lot where he tried to teach me to drive it. A harrowing experience to say the least.

I could see the man's nervousness escalate when I accidentally put the gas and the break on a the same time (only once did I do that in a car, and we were in a parking lot). He kept shouting to my friends that I need a "quad bike" (an ATV) but I was certain that I could scoot. We took some back roads so I could get a feel for scooting and then we hit the scary Santorini roads. Driving in Greece is scary when you're in a car while on a scooter it is terrifying. I'm a slow driver (aside from that one ticket!) so I was routinely passed by everyone and everything. I think a kid on a bike even passed me once. Thankfully the guys were really great and we continued scootering. We scootered up to Fira the main town for lunch and by the time we left I was pretty confident in my capabilities. Of course my scooter died after lunch (terrifying!) but one of the guys fixed it. After we hit the red beach and continued our reign of scooter terror. Throughout the day we thought of song lyrics that we could substitute the word "scooter" in which provided a nice break from the permeating thought of, "Holy ^$&# I'm going to DIE! On a scooter! In Greece!" We decided to hit Oia where the sunset is supposed to be one of the best in the world. We had a leisurely dinner there, saw an incredible sunset and then scootered back to the hostel. Now I'm not saying I was a pro by any means, but by the end of the night I was leading the pack home. Scootering was one of the best things I did the whole trip and I would definitely recommend it.

After another long night out (oops) I was determined to scoot a little before my tour the next day. Despite not feeling my best I woke up and scootered. I think scootering might be the best hangover cure. After I returned my hog (haha) I hopped a bus bound for the port. I had decided to take a tour of the volcano, swim in a hot spring and visit the old island of Thìra. At the port is where I met Alex, the girl who went to high school with my brother. As she was alone my friend Dave and I added her to our tour group and together we saw the volcano (not the type you're thinking of but really interesting because of our tour guide), swam in the orange-y hot springs (lukewarm at best) had lunch at the old town (yumm, taziki) and met the cutest Indian-American three year old. Best part? It was aboard a "pirate" ship. Very cool. After that they went to Oia to wath the sunset and I headed back to the hostel where I met some Dutch girls. They were gearing up for the World Cup final that night and I found myself liking Holland more and more. We watched the match and then decided to head out. After another late night and a one a.m. ferry to Crete I decided my best bet for the day was to hit the black beach. Dave and I lounged (on chairs because those black stones were scorching!) all day which was just what I needed. I got a couple messages from my friend Chris (who I had left in Mykonos because he had to go pickup his girlfriend in Athens) saying that they were there and wanted to meet up for dinner.

I caught up with them around seven where I met his friend and another awesome American, Neil. Neil, who was on Big Brother 9 I think, was awesome and loads of fun to be with. Because the regional wine is sold in 1.5 liter bottles we didn't realize how much we'd had. And then at dinner the owner kept giving us shots or raki (so much more potent that ouzo. I felt like I could have breathed fire after that bad boy) so by the time I took my 11:30 bus to the port I was a little more than tipsy. I was chatting with an Australian girl at the bar and I could hear myself speaking in an Australian accent but I was powerless to stop it. Very ridiculous. I found a guy from my hostel and some of his friends who were taking the same ferry to Rhodes (16 hours, thankfully my leg was only five) so we all boarded, put of stuff on the ground and promptly fell asleep. I did, however, manage to tell one of the guys I was moving to Istanbul so now I think I'll have some visitors there in November!

I exited the ferry in the Iraklion, Crete port feeling a little worse for the wear but having thoroughly enjoyed my time on Santorini.

Some pictures of Santorini:

The black beach--told you I'd be there!

Dave, Alex (Jack's classmate!) and I on top of the volcano

Sunset at Oia

Looking cool I know

Scooter posse at a sunset dinner

Nearly fell off the scooter because of this view

Parting shot with Chris

The silent killer: raki

I Said Who Am I to Blow Against the Wind?

2010-07-21T09:21:00.003+02:00

After the little retainer incident Boy was much better. In the afternoon he wanted to play a card game that he learned over his holiday. Jack and I used to play this with our grandparents (because it was called, "Oh, hell!" and we thought it was awesome that they let us swear for a game) but I needed a little refresher on how to play. As I was looking up the rules online (Boy isn't very good at explaining things) he was perusing the Best Present Ever--the calendar that Howie gave me last year before I came of our greatest pictures. He came across one [of many] photos of me holding a beer. He asked, "Is that a beer?" I figured it was useless to lie so I said it was. He said, "I've never even seen you with a beer before!"

Oh Boy, you are the reason for most of my beer consumption this past year!

Another great quote (that has nothing to do with beer):

When I was picking up Boy and Girl from tennis camp yesterday I ran into Boy's Best Friend's father. He said, "You look different. Is it your hair? Or you changed the color of your skin!"

Tan mission complete.

Retained

2010-07-20T09:43:00.003+02:00

The Santorini post will come later, I just had to share this about Boy & Girl.

Girl has started to lose her baby teeth, before the holiday she had a tooth so wiggly that it could stick straight out of her mouth (ask Kristina, it was revolting). When I saw her on Sunday night I saw that she had lost the other front tooth as well. She is missing her two front teeth and because of this she kind of speaks with a lisp now. It is really funny and cute, plus I'm really happy I don't have to bear witness to more wiggly front teeth.

Now as you may know I am pretty obsessed with the state of my teeth. Now my teeth aren't perfect but after years spent looking like a creature from the underworld (with my metal mouth) I'm not going to try and ruin all that work, time and not to mention money. (Thanks mom & dad!) Although many of my previously brace-faced peers have stopped wearing their retainers (what they give you after you get your braces off to maintain that nice smile) I still wear it to bed. Yes, you read that correctly, I still wear my retainers. My retainers aren't the metallic kind but the clear plastic kind so it is a little less embarrassing, but not by much. Now the bathroom situation at The House isn't ideal. Since I usually come home after The Family has gone to bed I don't like to go upstairs next to their rooms to brush my teeth so I started to use the first floor bathroom. The Mother even got me a box to leave my stuff in so I don't have to bring it back and forth (much like a college kid in a dorm bathroom).

Now you might wonder what this has to do with Boy? Well, this morning in my rush I left my retainer box on top of the box where my toothbrush is. He was in the first floor bathroom and since he never shuts the bathroom door I heard the sound of a match being lit (I took to leaving matches in the bathroom as per Uncle Joe's advice after I ran into the "issue" with The Father). I said, "Boy, what are you doing in there?" The answer? "Nothing!" As an au pair you learn that nothing is never nothing so I pushed the door open and he was LIGHTING MY RETAINERS ON FIRE. I kid you not. I grabbed his hand and shook the match into the sink but I was pretty astonished, I mean, a retainer? I asked him what my retainers ever did to him that deserved such treatment/why he did it and he gave a George Mallory-esque reply, "Because it was there."

I think I'll keep my beloved retainers in my room until The Kids leave Friday.

With a Vision of a Gentle Coast

2010-07-19T09:20:00.003+02:00

Ahh, Mykonos. My first real stop on my tour de Greece (and a very long blog post, sorry!).

After navigating my way to the Athens port I hopped a ferry to Mykonos. I met a fellow American on the way who had just been working in Zürich for the past two years and we passed the time playing gin rummy. Once docked I found the shuttle to my hostel, once aboard it would seem that everyone was already paired off. Not a good sign when you're traveling alone. Once there I dropped my stuff in my room and headed to the bar (hey, it was vacation). I grabbed my beer, turned around and these two French Canadians said, "You traveling alone? Come sit with us!" I passed the evening with those two and two other French girls.

The next morning I was up bright and early and ready for the beach. As I walked down I managed to fall in step with this Greek guy. It was one of those mornings where I just wanted to be on the beach, alone and I willed him not to say anything, which of course prompted his "Where do you come from?" query. We walked down the length of the beach when I saw a woman topless. And bottomless. Holy crap, we were on the nude beach part. I was horrified to think that maybe he was going to get nude, or worse, expect me to! I tried to continue hiking but he said there weren't any other beaches. Being the kindly pushover I am I put my towel a few feet from him, which he took as an invitation to keep talking to me. When he left to go to work he asked if he could come back tonight and we could go out. I said I was going out here probably and he asked for my number. The easiest way to deal with this was to give him a fake one. But then he called me and said I must have put it in incorrectly. So as the kindly pushover I entered it correctly (which he called to verify again). Later in the afternoon he sent me a SMS:

You are so beautiful and sweet girl, im call you 11-12 p.m im coming there on paraga ok?

No reply.

Later:

Hey what it's you doing,you want to come to nicht or no, please send one messege :-*

No reply.

Later:

:-(:-(;-(;-( we are you?

No reply.

Later I was watching the World Cup with some people at my hostel and he called not once, not twice but six times. Then he called from an unknown number which I thought might be my friend Chris who was supposed to get to Mykonos at some point that night but his phone was dying so I thought he might be calling from somewhere else so I answered and heard the, "Gilllllee?" Quickly hung up and he called back. One of the Australian guys I was with was so fed up with it he answered and told the guy that he had the wrong number and that this wasn't Jill's phone. That ended my Greek romance.

I went out in the town and surrounding beach bars that night and didn't make it home until the morning (think roosters crowing and sunrise) so I was pretty pleased with myself when I got up around 10. As I was walking I heard a deep voiced, "Good morning!" and looked up to see my friend Chris strolling out of his room. Chris made it the night before and I guess spent the evening searching the hostel for me because all day people kept coming up to him and saying, "You found your friend! He was looking everywhere for you." We spent the day around the beaches, made friends with a rasta named Troy and went out in Mykonos that night. The next day we went with some South American friends to a different part of the island and then explored the town of Mykonos. That night we went out again (Mykonos was a party place) and my Australian/Canadian friends invited me to tag along to Ios (the most notorious party island) where they were headed early the next morning. Well a box of wine and a very late night made me miss that ferry so I went along with my original plans and headed to Santorini (who's real name is Thìra). But more on Santorini tomorrow!

Some photos of my days in Mykonos:

Sightseeing in Mykonos

Trying to match my tan from Barcelona last year

Not a bad view for 12 Euros a night.

In summary, Mykonos was beautiful, crazy and of course, loads of fun.

Adonis?

2010-07-18T22:31:00.005+02:00

I have this habit of building things up in my head, and I'm pretty sure most girls do too. If I can make an assumption about my gender here I'd say that most girls build up their relationships with boys--many prior to their first date are picking out those elusive wedding colors (who knew there was such a thing?) and naming babies. Now I don't do that (though I have been known to do that for my friend's relationships--sorry Switter, you know how excitable I get) but I do tend to build up other things: outfits, trips, jobs (have yet to sit at a cafe with Boy and Girl eating pain au chocolate, wearing berets and speaking perfect French--hey, I never said it was a realistic buildup) and even blog posts. When they don't turn out as I desired I suffer from varying degrees of disappointment. I'm happy to report though that more often than not, the reality supersedes the imagined.

Anyway, after a day of traipsing around Athens I was hot, bored and alone--three things I don't like to be. I decided to make my way to the beach to soak up some of the last Grecian rays and clean the pounds of dust that had accumulated on my legs and feet. I got off the metro and was instantly disappointed to see no beach. I walked over a bridge and was still land-locked. I was a bit sad because on my map it looked like the beach was there but I persevered and hopped on a tram to get another perspective of the city. I sort of zoned out (and attempted to avoid the couple to my right displaying more than a little public affection) but at one stop I noticed the sparkle of the sea once more. I hopped out (little did I know that more beautiful and populous beaches awaited me further down the tram line) and headed to the shore. I perched upon a rock and was enjoying the sunshine when I saw him.

Now perhaps I had spent too much time at the Acropolis that morning but I could have sworn that he was Adonis. He walked into the water and I seriously could not avert my eyes. He swam around and soon started swimming to his right, which was closer to me. I didn't mind as I got a better view of this incredible specimen. He stopped swimming when he was in front of me (but still a few feet into the water) and motioned for me to come join him. I nearly did the Molly Ringwald 16 Candles turn around to see if he was motioning to anyone else but since I was sitting with my back against a rock wall I figured it was for me. I tried to be cool and motion that I didn't have my suit so he came closer and closer. "What is it you are called?" he asked. "Jill, and you?" "Steve." (No offense to Steve's out there but that wasn't the name I had been hoping for.) "Steve isn't very Greek." "No, I am Portuguese."

Steve came out of the water (be still my heart) and we chatted. When he asked how long I had to stay something in my gut told me to say I had to leave in an hour (thank you gut reactions!). His English was poor so we communicated via Fr-English. Half French half English which made for a very interesting conversation. He asked me to come sit with him, and let me tell you that's when the real trouble started. We chatted about jobs and where we lived (there are many kilometers between Portugal and America he was sad to note) which was fine until he asked the dreaded, "Are you marriage?" And when I responded no he said we should be married. But we could wait to make babies, "just be company" for now. "We're happy together, we go to an island and live. Alone. I just like you." How generous. Then he tried to start holding my hand. If any of you know me trying to hold my hand is as painful for me as trying to set it on fire. I might even prefer the fire. Public displays of affection are rarely warranted or welcomed and even a man as attractive as Steve wasn't going to get away with it. (He did tell me that he came over to talk to me because of my smile and my nice "these," points to his legs. Okay, you can compliment my legs beautiful man.)

Still he started to get on my nerves (to the point that when he'd turn around I would make faces behind his back much like a bratty 13 year old girl) and I was pretty grateful that I told him I had to leave at 6:15. I was, however, nervous that I would run into him in the streets of Athens (that's the kind of thing that would happen to me) as I told him my flight left that night--he did try to tell me that we could go to the airport and push my flight back to the next day but I politely declined. I spent the first part of my evening at the airport nervous that he'd show up proclaiming his love, but alas it would seem Steve had moved on.

I did, however, manage to get a picture of this beautiful man:

Too bad he was so annoying!

Silver Lining

2010-07-18T11:08:00.002+02:00

Sorry for my last rant, it just wasn't what I had expected to come home to.

There is, however, a silver lining to this week that is keeping my spirits up:

THIS IS MY LAST WEEK AS AN INDENTURED SERVANT (I mean au pair)!!!!

Originally I was supposed to go back to the French Frat House for the last week of July with Boy and Girl but thanks to the encouragement of my mom, TMoTB and my friends I actually took the initiative and told them that it would be better for me (and my new job! woo!) to stay in Zürich and do some training. The Parents were going back and forth about it but last week The Father texted me saying that it looks like they won't need my in France after all. (He said, "It looks like" which makes me a touch nervous but I'm just going to go with it.)

So for my last week with The Kids I am going to try to be Super-Great-Amazing-Positive-Fun-Sunny-Au Pair-Jill. This being said, of course, before they are back from Corsica, but I know I can do it.

As always, I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Time to Go

2010-07-18T10:00:00.003+02:00

I'm back and I promise to write about my awesomely amazing holiday very soon, but first a little story about my return to Switzerland:

Switzerland is making itself increasingly easy to leave.

Having just arrived home from a wonderful two week Grecian holiday I was assaulted with 16 degree (60.8 F) cloudy weather. Next my "half tax" (the card that makes trains half the price) expired yesterday so I had to pay double to get back to the house--the train checkers never even looked at my ticket either. Finally when I walked in there was a 120 CHF speeding ticket waiting for me on the counter. Now I might not be the world's best parker but I am a good driver. Often Boy and Girl tell me to go faster because I'm going too slow for their liking. I have never had a ticket before and this year I've had a parking ticket and now a speeding ticket. The best part about it though was the speed infraction. Some video camera apparently clocked me going 53 in a 50. (This is kilometers per hour too bringing my speed to an outrageous 32.9 miles per hour.)

At least we are in agreement about one thing: It is time for me to go!

One Lucky Duck

2010-07-15T18:03:00.003+02:00

I don't mean to brag, but I am a seriously lucky girl. I don't know that I say it enough, but I'm lucky in a literal and figurative sense. I am safely in Crete now (with a few more scratches due to a hike up through a bunch of waterfalls--I mentioned how lucky I am, right?) and having a blast.

I head back across Crete tomorrow to take the overnight ferry to Athens to spend the day in Athens and the night in the Athens airport for my 6:20am flight. (Still consider myself lucky.) I have loads of experience sleeping in public places so don't worry about me!

It's All Greek to Me

2010-07-11T17:35:00.002+02:00

Santorini is amazing. Mykonos was a blast. This trip has been maybe too much fun.

Anyway quick story: Today a kid and I signed up for this day trip to take a boat to the volcano, "hot" springs (not so hot) and another island. While waiting at the port (for our pirate ship) I saw a girl standing there alone. Me being me, I went up and introduced myself. Turns out she was from Washington D.C. Turns out she went to the same high school as my brother. Turns out she was in the same grade as Jack at that high school. And she is good friends with one of his old friends. Can this world get any smaller?

Off to Crete (hopefully) tomorrow!

Oh and I learned how to ride a scooter. But that, my friends, deserves a whole blog post unto itself.

Greece

2010-07-08T14:39:00.003+02:00

Hi all!

I am in Mykonos right now, was supposed to head to Santorini today but with a ferry strike (I was told) I am stuck here. But here isn't such a bad place to be. And I already have some funny stories to tell at a later date, but for now, back to the beach!

Most important update: I am already really tan. (And not burnt, don't worry mom. I have even been using sunscreen.)

Take care!

Happy 4th of July!

2010-07-05T00:21:00.003+02:00

Happy 4th of July!!!!

Independence Day for America is my favorite holiday (summer, beer, hot dogs, ice cream, sparkly explosions--I think I just described my future wedding ceremony). Some people love Christmas, Thanksgiving or even their birthday but most of my friends from college and I love July 4. And frankly, I don't think I've ever had a bad July 4.

This past weekend was nothing short of a total blast. Although Saturday was technically July 3, my friends and I spent the day swimming at the lake, eating hamburgers & hot dogs (mostly me there), watching fireworks and making the boring Rivella tent into a truly hoppin' dance party. This included, but was not limited to, two duets by my awesome friend Phil and I, complete with matching dance moves. Pictures to follow. Phil has been described as my male counterpart and when the two of us are together we become all out "attention-whores." Despite this, I think we were still pretty entertaining.

I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and 4th of July! I'm off to Greece tomorrow (ah!) for two weeks but I'll try to update when/if I can!

Emily, Me, Phil (with fiancée stand-in, the case of beer), Kristina, Adam (fellow blogger and photographer extraordinaire) & Nick riding the classic July 4 camel.

One Year

2010-07-02T15:14:00.003+02:00

In the last year I have:

-Improved my French.

-Been pushed to and past my limits of servitude, patience and senility.

-Learned how to iron.

-Made a bunch of new friends.

-Traveled to 10 countries, five of them new and a new continent! A new one on Monday!

-Had a drink in every country.

-Saved no money, sorry M&D.

-Written 223 blog post (now 234).

-Had 10,006 people view my blog. (THANK YOU! Special thanks to my family who probably accounts for 9,045 of those views.)

-Enjoyed myself tremendously.

But, perhaps, most importantly (my Super Great News):

-I got a job. A real person job. But no cubes are involved and it is in Europe. (Meaning Australia is on hold for the moment.)

A pretty great year I'd say. And now, a great weekend with some fabulous friends at Züri-fest and Greece on Monday!!

One Year Ago

2010-07-02T00:40:00.004+02:00

Pretend this was from yesterday.

One year ago, yesterday (July 1, 2009) I left Minnesota to move here. I could wax poetic on how I was crying at the MSP-International Airport (whilst simultaneously taking out 40 extra pounds from my suitcases) about how I might not see my mom again which proved to be untrue, I saw her at Christmas, but I'll spare you, until tomorrow.

Here's a story totally unrelated to that:

Yesterday Boy, Girl and I had the iPod on and a Lily Allen "Glee" cover came on. Boy asked why we weren't listen to the real song and I said it was because there was a bad word. My mistake. This led to Boy taking the iPod and running to another place in the house, finding said Lily Allen song and playing it. The bad word (the f one, if you must know) came on and I held my breath.

Boy said nothing and Girl said, "It's fucking!"

Now Girl is a 34 pound, blonde haired, blue eyed six year old so I couldn't help myself from laughing. I was cracking up and trying to tell them that that was a bad word and say not to use it when Boy said, "What? I heard Kristina say it at the pool the other day!" (True, but that was funny. And Kristina's "mother" swears in English in front of her children all the time, I think it just took her off guard that my kids' first language is English.) I could not stop laughing for a good five minutes, and then told them that Kristina got "in trouble" for saying it too.

Man kids, and au pairs, say the darndest things.

En Français s'il vous plaît

2010-06-30T15:16:00.004+02:00

Deux semaines dernier, j'ai eu mon dernier cours de français. Je suis triste d'être finis mais, j'espère que continuer á practiquer. Aujourd-hui je vais écrire en français pour montrer à mes parents combien j'ai appris!

Hier aprés midi les enfants ont été fou. J'ai decidé que nous devrions aller a la piscine. La Femme Nettoyer m'a demandé si je leurs avais donné l'eau aujourd-hui. Je sais que je ne suis pas la meilleure au pair, mais je leur donner l'eau quand il faut chaud. Je l'ai dit, "Bien sur!"Aprés elle m'a demandé, "Tu es sur que ce n'est pas la vodka?"

J'adore La Femme Nettoyer.

Baby Mama

2010-06-29T11:36:00.004+02:00

I miss TMoTB, and I guess TB too. Last week Boy and TBoTB were in tennis camp together so I got to see TB and TMoTB on a daily basis, not to mention the three times we spoke on the phone. This week they are on vacation in New York and I am TB-less. After I drop Girl off at camp in the morning the route home takes me in front of TB's house and the look I give the house is not unlike longing. TMoTB was a friend and an adult I could trust to give me good advice, restaurant suggestions, travel tips for new cities and let me know where the sales were (although our budgets were drastically different).

Over the Christmas holiday my father and I were working on my resumé and my mom said I was lucky because I had an incredibly intelligent person aiding me, and that person only had my best interests at heart (or maybe it had something to do with him not wanting his 23 year old daughter to move back in!). And I'm pretty sure that's how it was with TMoTB. She always told me to do what's best for me and although she will probably never know, knowing her made my year so much better.

Do I Know You From Somewhere?

2010-06-27T22:23:00.007+02:00

I have this uncanny ability to often be in the right place at the right time. And if it isn't the right place at the right time it's the right place at a very awkward/mildly humiliating (in a good for a funny story at a later date) time. I have accidentally run into people time and again, or had odd connections with people I've only just met (hello Allison!).

Lately it seems as if this has been happening more and more often. A couple months ago I ran into a friend I hadn't seen since the summer before. One thing led to another and this run-in has resulted in my Super Great News (of which I'm still nervous to say officially but I tell to pretty much everyone--e-mail me if you can't wait for it to come out here!).

Last August I met this kid who hailed from Minnesota but had since relocated to Arizon and then Switzerland. Having spent the better part of the evening being annoyed by him, my friend and I sort of kind of left him at the bar to go hang out with an adorable French man. (I mean would you rather listen to his squeaky, annoying voice or try out your horrid French with a not-so-horrid man who thinks it is endearing? I mean really.) He sent me a couple of text messages later in the year about coming to parties with me (he didn't seem to be a self starter) which I will admit I, rudely, didn't answer. Flash forward to Mother's Day, Kristina and I decided to treat ourselves to brunch in honor of our mother's. During the course of our meal another couple came and sat next to us (the tables were picnic bench style) and were speaking English. I didn't really take note of it until I heard the voice and the stupid conversation. The guy was wearing sunglasses (a tool-y Gucci pair) but I then realized that it had been this kid from August. Of all the places in all of Zürich, of course he sits down next to us! I don't know if he noticed me but it was pretty amusing. And then last night I was with a bunch of Americans at this museum in Zürich to watch the [sad] USA game and when the US scored I was running around (like a maniac) giving high-fives to everyone and anyone. Mid-high five I realized that it was this guy, again. I quickly retreated to my table after that.

Two Saturdays ago I was out for drinks with my friend and we ran into another friend and this beautiful guy that she is seeing. He was one of those guys who you can't quite look directly at for fear of your eyes burning. He's that beautiful. Well the next day after I had just left Kristina I decided I was about to die of thirst. As it was raining I zipped my hood up. So I'm standing on this street corner chugging (it was even less lady-like than the word "chugging" implies) water, looking like a nerd with my raincoat zipped to my chin when Mr. Adonis rounds the corner and we nearly smack into one another. I don't think he recognized me but I semi-ran down the street and couldn't believe my timing.

I think the craziest run-in that's happened to me though happened last night. We arrived early at the museum to grab a table and make our USA fan-base. The place was still pretty empty when right in front of me I see a girl I studied abroad in Vienna with nearly three years ago. Crazy! I looked at her and said, "Holy crap! What are you doing here!?" She was there on a business trip and one of our mutual friends from Vienna said she had "Facebook stalked" (probably a verb now) me and knew that I was here and told this girl that she might run into me. Bizarre.

Kristen & I in Vienna 2007

I always talk about what a small place Zürich is and it's true. Although I think the rate in which I run into people is pretty high. I wonder who I'll run into next.

Competitive? Me?

2010-06-25T10:19:00.002+02:00

If you haven't gleaned this information from my previous posts I am fiercely, and perhaps overly, competitive. I love to win, anything. Board games, debates, athletic events, anything I can win I try to and want to. Even with The Kids. We'll often "race" to get something done, "I bet I can get the blinds open before you get yours open!" When The Kids tell me they beat me all I do is smile because they don't realize that I'm the winner in that situation!

After the USA tie last Friday I took the kids to the park to play my favorite soccer game, world cup. Each team, or in our case child, picks a country to represent, the goalie kicks the ball in play and then each team has to try to score a goal, as you are shooting you have to yell out the name of your country for your goal to count. Once you score you advance to the next round and the team who doesn't score is out. Eventually there are only two "countries" left and the one who scores wins the "world cup." I, of course, was the USA (though at most of my soccer camps I was Djibouti for obvious booty-shouting reasons). I was running towards the goal and The British Boy was trying to steal the ball, now I won't tell you exactly what I said to him (in a good natured way I promise) but it did have something to do with the Revolutionary War. I'm also fairly certain he had no idea what the Revolutionary War was. Wednesday night I was out for a couple beers with some friends and a British friend of theirs came over to talk to them and introduce himself. The conversation turned to soccer and then to a British/American showdown of who was a better country. The result? I actually recited the preamble to the Constitution (which is sort of impressive after a beer don't you think?).

I wasn't always like this though, it was more of a gradual slope into my competitive nature. As a child I was about as competitive as a doorknob. I played soccer throughout my childhood and I remember playing for a team at the YMCA. My best friend and I always requested to play the last two defenders for two reasons: they stood next to each other so we could chat throughout the games, and the boy we both liked (which, at the time seemed really lucky) played goalie so we could also spend our games chatting with him. Our coach soon figured it out and alas our trifecta of laziness was over. Sure I liked to win but I wasn't heartbroken after our inevitable and eventual loss. As long as I got a juicebox and some orange slices after the game I was pretty happy.

As the years went by I learned how nice it was to win, and how nice it was to be on a team where the minimum requirement wasn't just to have legs. I started playing on teams with tryouts and on school teams where you had to posses at least a bit of athletic prowess. But after my freshman year of college my competitive/borderline maniacal tendencies began to develop. Sophomore year during the start of fall-ball (lacrosse practice in the fall) one of my teammates nicknamed me "Tenacious J" (did not help me get more playing time during lacrosse games though!). And from that point on I was pretty much hooked on winning. I'm working on losing with grace, but that's much harder to come by.

Maybe I should re-learn the Gettysburg Address (memorized in grade 3 or 4 for fun) to recite on Saturday.

Thank You Jack

2010-06-24T18:42:00.002+02:00

Yes you, Jack.

My friend Jack posted this link to my Facebook today (which he received from his sister) because he thought I could use some good 'ol USA celebrating. It is awesome, and I watched nearly every video, the result being that my kids keep chanting "USA! USA!" which is pretty great.

And I am pretty sure that I equaled the level of noise in my house alone.

After I snagged the few minutes that the BBC spent analyzing our game so I could fully enjoy the non-language barrier-ed commentary. The best line came from Gary Lineker who said at the end of the 91st minute goal to win it, "Well if that doesn't make Americans football fans, nothing will."

Thanks again for the link Jack! It was nice to celebrate, albeit digitally, with my countrymen. And, I look forward to doing it again on Saturday. I'll be the one in the face paint.

GOALLLLLL

2010-06-23T18:06:00.003+02:00

I have yet to stop screaming from the game winner that the USA scored. Holey moley, that was awesome. The match played on my nerves (anxiety attack anyone?) but man was it exciting!

The only thing that was a little disappointing was that England played at the same time as the US so on the BBC it was clearly playing England. I scrolled through the next 30 channels to try to find the Algeria/USA match and finally found it on France2. Let me tell you, as much as I love the French language, watching sporting events in French is just not the same.

Allez les Etas-Unis!

Oh and, at one point when the crowd showed American fans I saw a guy sporting a Minnesota Twins hat. Ironic that it was a baseball team's hat (albeit their colors are red and blue) at a soccer match but at least there was some Minnesota representation!

TMNT

2010-06-23T12:40:00.001+02:00

Last week I re-encountered a childhood staple in my house: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Since then I've started saying things to the kids that end with "and a half shell," most often, "gross and a half shell." And in the car on the way home from camp we saw a dead animal and Gabrielle said, "Gross and a half shell."

I feel as if my work as an au pair is complete.

True Love

2010-06-23T11:25:00.003+02:00

My friend Scott told me I need to stop being a "whinger" (the Australian term for a whine-y brat I believe). So I'll stop the complaints, stop blaming my sourness upon the weather and talk about something that is and has been making me very happy. I dare say it's even love.

Of course, I'm talking about the Amazon Kindle. I don't have one (yet!) but Kristina has so generously let me borrow hers to read a couple books that she has. At first I was admittedly skeptical. As a girl who loves to read there's something so satisfying about sitting down with a book and turning a page. I was also skeptical of reading on a screen. In college I could never read my articles on the computer, they always had to be printed out (this probably also has something to do with my over-affinity to highlight) so I didn't know how I'd feel about reading an entire book on a screen.

Well folks, I was wrong. The Kindle is awesome. It doesn't hurt your eyes, it's light and compact--I don't want to jump the gun but I think the Kindle and I have a very bright and long future ahead of us. And when it's fully charged it lasts for 14 days! Amazing.

I'll never turn my back completely on books though. Despite all the wonderful characteristics of the Kindle there are some things a book just does better. I was trying to relay a funny story (about Australia as I am reading Bill Bryson's "In a Sunburned Country" which, by the way, is awesome) to Scott the other day and needed the details from a page at the start of the book. Instead of flipping through I had to click, scan and click some more to get to the story. It works, but just not with the same amount of ease.

Still the Kindle is pretty amazing.

Summertime Blues

2010-06-21T09:42:00.004+02:00

Although today is technically the first day of summer Switzerland has apparently decided to forgo the season this year. For the I'm guessing millionth (or so it seems) day in a row it has been rainy, overcast and cold. There have been some days where, for a couple of hours, the sun has poked through and I've been able to wear shorts, but for the most part it has been back to my SAD ways.

This also has to do with the Kids being on summer vacation, and the inability to take them to the pool. Summer vacation last year was the bane of my existence (I didn't have a lot going on, alright?). When I interviewed with The Family they assured me that the kids were either in school all day or at summer camp all day. They had camp the first week of the summer last year and then they gave them the option to either go to camp or stay with me which was aggravating, to say the least. For the next two weeks though they are in camp from 9-12 which is great, but the rainy weather forecast pretty much makes us housebound for the rest of the week. Add that to the combination of The Father going on a two-week sailing trip and The Mother being back and forth between here and Paris for work all week and you get one exasperated au pair. I'm doing the forehead slap, kicking myself and any other expression or turn of phrase to mock induce bodily harm at my own stupidity for agreeing to stay an extra two weeks (especially in light of current events that I promise to inform you all once they are more finalized). And, The Parents just told me this morning that for my last week of servitude I will be back in "The French Frat House" for a week with the kids and her extended family. (With the addition of two more children, their cousins, whom she said she could just leave under the supervision of their father, "but he doesn't watch them very closely.") The only saving grace is knowing that Kristina will be serving her indentured servitude in Neuchâtel during that time and we can border hop to see one another to preserve our dwindling sanity.

And to further highlight why summer vacation is all the more painful, take last Friday, the first day of summer break. Thursday afternoon I invited British Boy over for a playdate with Boy. Playdates are wonderful for me because I can generally just ignore the kids and they keep to themselves. Thursday night Paul's Best Friend's mom called to ask if he could come over tomorrow because their babysitter canceled. I agreed because she was in a bind, and I'm more or less a pushover. The Mother was still on a business trip to France and The Father had an early morning meeting so he left at 7:45. We played, did errands, had four children in the house (still managed to watch the USA game), played in the park, bathed the kids, fed them, cleaned the kitchen et cetera. My friends were sending me messages around 7pm about when I could come out and I replied that I really had no idea. The Father calls at 7:15 saying he had to run an errand on the way home and since he was already out he might as well just go pick up The Mother at the airport at 7:45 and he'd be home at 8:30. At 8:45 the parents roll in (literally 13 hours of work!). I sprang from the couch (after having to push The Girl off to go say hi to her mother who she hadn't seen since Tuesday) and out the door to meet my friends.

I told Kristina the little mantra I've been repeating to myself for the last couple of days to get me through the next six weeks: "Two weeks on, two weeks off [in Greece!], two weeks on, lifetime off." I can do it!

My friend Danielle stayed at my hostel in Santorini and said it it right on the black beach: (Insert me into this picture in 2.5 weeks)

http://www.fecielo.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/time-out-of-the-rat-race-on-the-black-sands-of-perissa-beach-on-the-east-coast-of-santorini-island-greece.jpg

Post Secret

2010-06-20T13:17:00.003+02:00

I love Post Secret and I look at it every week. Today's secrets were mostly in honor of Father's Day, and I found this one that I think (aside from the picture) is a pretty accurate representation of how I feel about my parents (except when they don't answer my phone calls).

Click here to see it.

Happy Father's Day!

2010-06-20T12:18:00.002+02:00

Happy Father's Day Dad!

And now I'm going to complain about you.

Both of my parents' children live far away. Not in the "a couple of hour drive far" but crossing oceans and continents sort of far. For most of my friends, this has turned their parents into the exceedingly needy sort who thrive on calls and desire to be in constant communication. This, however, is not the case with my parents. Perhaps it's all the time (and by time I mean money) that they've saved now that we are out of school and the house but they don't seem too phased by their lack of children. Now it's not to say that they don't want to talk to us, but I guess they have lives (ugh) of their own so their number one priority can't be sitting next to the computer waiting for our Skype names to appear.

Instead, I have become increasingly needy. I'm oftentimes the one who will text my dad (by the way, dad please read your text from yesterday) or send my mom an e-mail about some inane subject. The worst though is when I try to call. A couple days before Mother's Day I was talking with my mom, as we were saying goodbye it went something like this:
My Mom: Well, I'll talk to you next week sometime!
Me: Umm, I'll call you tomorrow. It's Mother's Day.
My Mom: Yeah, if you think of it.

The most frequent are the voice mails I will leave in succession on their various answering machines:

House Machine:...Beep!... Hi mom & dad it's me. You know, you're daughter Jill. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Wondering where you guys were. Don't worry, I'll just try your phones. Love you! Bye!

30 Seconds later (hint of desperation in my voice)

My mom's voicemail:...Beep!... Hi mom. Me again. I left a message at the house but I thought I'd try to catch you on your phone. Maybe you're on a bike ride or at the pool. Anyway I'll try calling back later. Love you! Bye!

30 Seconds later (with an increasing amount of desperation in my voice)

My dad's voicemail (although it is his secretary that says his name on the automatic message which never fails to amuse me):...Beep!... Hi dad! Just calling to see where you and mom were. But you're probably out fishing right now. Well I left a message at home, and I'll try calling later too. Love you! Bye!

Two days later I finally catch them on the phone. Sad but the all too often story.

I know my parents are camping this weekend (and the fact that it is early morning at home) so I will not start my calls until later this afternoon, I hope they answer because I've got some great, great news to share with them. (To be shared with you all in the near future!)

Happy Father's Day!

U-S-A! Part 2

2010-06-18T13:48:00.003+02:00

Today the USA plays again in the World Cup. It is probably a good idea that I will be at home for this match (as to avoid further public embarrassment) but I will not be in the presence of any other Americans. I will, however, be in the company of one British grandmother (who lives in Canada), two half Canadian half French children, one British child and one half Canadian half Swiss child.

But, I did decide to show my support by wearing read, white and blue (and dressing Boy in those colors and putting Girl in her "I heart NY" t-shirt. And I also painted my face. GO USA!

It does say "USA" the correct way, I promise.

Want to Make a Party?

2010-06-17T23:28:00.002+02:00

Today was a sad day for two reasons: It was the last day of school for Boy and Girl (insert my screams of "NO!!" here) and it was my last day with TB and TMoTB.

Since summer vacation (anguished cry) is starting I'll be spending a lot more time with Boy and Girl and will no longer have time with TB. TMoTB and I have planned to hang poolside but it's not regularly scheduled. I'm sad to not see TMoTB.

TB and I went on our last outing to Zürich this morning because Kristina and her baby (whom she calls "Little Bean" on her blog but who I will refer to as "Beanie Baby") were in town running an errand. One of my favorite German translated verbs it the verb "to make." In English we say, "Will you take a photo?" or "Do you want to have a party?" but when a native German speaker asks they say, "Shall we make a photo?" or "Do you want to make a party?" Naturally everytime we can use this we do, so we decided to "Make a baby party." We met up at a Starbucks with big plans for our babies to be best of friends. Although TB was ready for immediate friendship (after the requisite dirty looks to Kristina) Beanie Baby was not as enthused. She kept stating her ownership of "Dia" when TB was coming towards her (okay so Kristina and I were pushing them together in order to spark the best friendship we knew was imminent--it mostly led to us cracking up). Watching TB I realized how similar our friend-garnering styles are: we both just sort of attach ourselves to the potential friend and hang on until they shake us off or submit. Beanie Baby was not having it and our dreams of their friendship were nothing but a memory.

On the way home I received a text from Kristina that said, "[Beanie Baby] just stole a cracker from someone and is barking at a dog. She is my child." It's good to know that she is rubbing off on her baby too.

Oh Weißbeer

2010-06-17T14:17:00.002+02:00

For those of you who got to read last night's post about my little altercation with the police (believe it) I apologize and have since come down from my high horse/soapbox. After imbibing in a few weißbeers (my favorite) and some Feldschlossen I was, well actually a little equation might explain it best:

Jill+
feeling very patriotic towards the US (competition plus nearing my favorite holiday, July 4)+
listening to a bunch of positive America songs (a lot of The Boss)+
3 weißbeers (and a couple other regulars)+
the previous blog post about race relations+
a crowded street in Zürich where everyone is celebrating Switzerland's win over Spain (and incredible upset I admit)+
the police driving by at the same time
=
Trouble.

I got my permit checked (haha!) and a stern talking to (I also gave them a stern talking to, but I think the language barrier prevented me from getting in more trouble). Sorry Mom & Dad, I promise it won't happen again.

Oh, but there was a silver lining to the whole situation. I had forgotten my coat at the bar and when the officer was patting me down and going through my stuff I realized that I had left it. So, if I hadn't made a fool out of myself I would have lost my black North Face forever. (Thank you Adam for retrieving my coat whilst I was being quarantined.) It all worked out. And I promise to be well behaved on further outings (or else I'm going to have to be put on one of those kid leashes).

Not Okay

2010-06-15T08:37:00.003+02:00

For all the things the Swiss do right they still have some very backwards and sometimes, downright offensive, behaviors.

One such behavior that I have unfortunately witnessed more times than I'd like to remember is blatant racism. Yes, the Swiss are neutral but their "neutrality" doesn't seem to reach all corners of this little country. Much like Arizona [unfortunately] the Swiss police are "allowed" to stop anyone at any time and demand to see their living permit/passport. I have never been asked to show my proper documentation but I have seen numerous people get stopped by the police and have to show the proper documentation due only to the color of their skin. Yesterday Kristina and I were enjoying a couple mid-afternoon beers next to the lake when a police car drives up and stop next to a park bench a ways from us. Four officers get out and go up to this man and verify that he is allowed to be in Switzerland. The person sitting next to this man on the bench didn't have to show anything. After his information was checked they got back into their vehicle and drove off. I see this often and the person who's identification they check has never, not once, been white. There are girls who come here without work permits to work for a family, but because of the color of their skin they don't have to worry about being targeted--I mean there are probably more illegal workers here who are white, but, because of their pigmentation the Swiss overlook it. It's sad that a country that does so much so well can still operate where blatant racism is encouraged.

U-S-A! U-S-A!

2010-06-13T16:35:00.005+02:00

Last night it was the England vs. USA World Cup (Soccer/Football) match. I had to babysit TB and TBoTB but I figured, since TB and TBoTB are half American that we could cheer along our fellow countrymen. When I arrived TFoTB said he had a work conference call at nine (the first, he said, in twenty years of working) so he would go to their party after the call. TBoTB, TFoTB and I had a lovely dinner (TB wasn't really an active participant in our dinner conversation) which started out with a discussion of the evening's upcoming match. TBoTB was talking about how the U.S. was going to lose and how he was probably going to cheer for England. TFoTB and I both started in on how one should root for the underdog and then suddenly TFoTB was lecturing his son on patriotism and having some pride in his country ("Have you no loyalty TBoTB? No child of mine will turn his back on his country!") It was funny and pretty entertaining.

After TFoTB's call ended he finished the game with us making some pretty hysterical and choice remarks about the [inbred, islander] English. Everytime TBoTB made a remark against the States the Father said, "TBoTB you're being a nerd. And a nerd is a bad thing to be." And, "If you're going to cheer for England you can go to bed." I was glad that TFoTB was there to shout at the TV with me and share my excitement and we had a great discussion about American pride. Nothing brings out my patriotism more than competition (cut to me arguing with an 8 year old during the Olympics) or other people who are proud of America (not gun-slingin' down home people, but people who like America for what it represents, despite some obvious shortcomings).

Today was The Boy's first communion and one of his aunt's was here with her American boyfriend. We had only met once before but discussing the tie (better than a loss alright?!) our national pride definitely shone through and has yet to stop.

GO USA!

Time Takes Time You Know

2010-06-11T09:24:00.005+02:00

Of all the homes I've been to during my stay here there has been on recurring theme in each house: an abundance (to the point where it is borderline hoarding) of toys. Regardless of nationality, age of children or even number of children, these houses are packed to the gills with toys (and I realize the irony coming from a girl who doesn't like to get rid of her stuff, but even to me this is ridiculous). My kids have so many toys and yet they are happiest with a balloon or a piece of paper. The dad that my friend Allie used to work for, who has since switched employers, bought a new toy for his kids every time he had to spend time with them because he didn't know what else to do. It's like so many of these parents with au pairs would rather throw toys at their children then spend actual time with them.

Now I'm not saying Jack and I didn't have an overabundance of toys (I was lucky enough to even have two Ariel Barbies) but more than that I remember are all the time I got to spend with my parents. The most vivid memories are not of new toys (but a few at Toys-R-Us with an exasperated father because I couldn't decide between a Barbie and a Polly Pocket) but of the times I spent with my family; playing baseball (with "ghost runners") in our backyard, "Dr. Poppa" telling us he was going to "have to operate" anytime we were injured (which resulted in our injury feeling much, much better), my dad pouring Jack & I waaay too much cereal for Saturday morning cartoons, swimming with my mom at the Y (her telling me to swim to her whilst she kept taking steps back), always carving pumpkins and dying Easter eggs with my dad, going to Choiristers and Kids Corral (insert Molly snort) in the neighborhood, my dad getting me dressed for church by lifting me up by my tights, my mom singing to me in the white wicker rocking chair. A lot of these things I do now with my kids (the yard is so small my ghost runner always makes it home). Although I'm sure their memories of me will fade with age I can't help but wonder what memories they'll have of their parents.

I was researching this company the other day and and came across an interesting quote that piqued my interest on this whole subject. It said, "How does a child spell love?"

T-I-M-E.

(Not t-o-y-s.)

Seasonally Affected

2010-06-10T09:15:00.002+02:00

I don't mean to be dramatic (actually who am I kidding, of course I do) but I am afflicted with a disorder. (Insert my father making a joke about how my disorder is my flair for the dramatic.) This is a tale of how this disorder has controlled my recent life.

I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). (And by "have" I mean "self diagnosed.") SAD, as defined by Wikipedia, is, "

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), also known as winter depression or winter blues, is a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or, less frequently, in the summer, spring or autumn, repeatedly, year after year. In the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV), SAD is not a unique mood disorder, but is "a specifier of major depression".

The US National Library of Medicine notes that "some people experience a serious mood change when the seasons change. They may sleep too much, have little energy, and may also feel depressed. Though symptoms can be severe, they usually clear up."

For those of you who don't live in Switzerland the weather here up until last weekend was terrible. It rained every day for three straight weeks. It was the first day of June and I was still wearing jeans which is totally unacceptable in my book. I was feeling an unusually high level of melancholia, life ennui, apathy and general sort of unhappiness that, for those of you that know me, is pretty much the opposite of my general disposition. I was stuck in a rainy-rut and I was less social and a much less fun au pair.

Friday, however, all that changed. It was a beautiful, sunny, warm day and as I was walking down Bahnhofstrasse (the main street in Zürich) to meet Krustina for lunch I could just feel those dangerous UV rays seeping into my skin and lifting my mood (and Vitamin D levels). After lunch I headed to the pool to soak up some more of the glorious weather. Whilst there, The Mother called to say she needed to be on a conference call that afternoon so could I be there for the kids after school. Normally this would have bugged me but Friday I happily obliged. At home I was back to my super fun au pair self of yesteryear and I actually enjoyed myself and my time with The Kids. It was a little weird but I'll take it! Friday night was a blast, anything that includes a grill, beer and hotdogs will pretty much always reign supreme in my book.

Saturday I awoke to feeling less than great but I thought, "Hey, I could either feel less than great in my bed or AT THE POOL!" So I went to the pool, sweated out my excess beer consumption from the evening before and then later met up with some friends (the same guys as the previous night) by the lake in Zürich. Despite a wee bit of sunburn (sorry mom) it proved to be another fun and funny day. I even jumped into the lake (still freezing, sort of like White Bear Lake I'm guessing) but my cold water tolerance has clearly improved by living in Minnestoa so I was able to swim for a while.

Sunday I again went to the lake with some au pair friends to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather. All in all a wonderful, sunny weekend. Now when people see me instead of asking, "Gee Jill? What's wrong? You seem pale and sullen," they say, "Wow! How'd you get so tan?!"

It's good to be back.

Running Commentary

2010-06-08T18:36:00.002+02:00

For those of you who don't know

I really, really love it when people comment on my blog. (Yes you Ell.) And so please don't ever shy away from doing it, even if it is to tell me to stop whining and buck up! I'll take them all.

Also for those of you who don't know how/can't figure out how to comment (ahem Molly) at the bottom of every post there is a little orange word called "Comments" usually with a 0 before it. If you click on that you can comment (and then you have to type in a word so as to ensure I'm not getting spam comments--but at this point I might start taking them).

So thanks for those of you who read and comment.

Your turn Cubby!

More of the Same Sentiments

2010-06-08T08:33:00.003+02:00

Whilst I'm still annoyed/angry with The Mother let me tell you two not-so-funny but a little ironic stories.

Yesterday she was supposed to be there after school for the kids. I was at home however (doing some much needed room cleansing) and when the doorbell rang at 3:45 I let them in. The Mother came home a whole ten minutes late. I wish I were petty enough to tell The Father. I am, however, petty enough to blog about it!

Also last Tuesday she sent me a text saying that The Cleaning Lady (who is my newest Facebook friend--don't worry unable to read English or find my blog on my profile) would not be able to make it. Wednesday evening when The Mother returned she mentioned that she really hoped TCL could come Friday. I asked if TCL was sick and she said, "No, some one died in her family. But, from what I understand, they weren't all that close. And anyway he was in Portugal. It's just her family here was getting together. I really hope she can come Friday." I stood there with my mouth ajar and said nothing.

Friday when I saw TCL I voiced my condolences and with tears (literally) in her eyes she told me that it had been her uncle who had passed away and that he was her God-father and used to take her to school in Portugal. I told TCL how sad and sorry I was for her and was inwardly grateful that I didn't tell The Mother about my uncle Kenny (or, heaven forbid! asked to have gone to the funeral--which I am still so sad to have missed). I guess I was just shocked by her harshness towards the loss of some one else. (Note: I didn't tell The Family about my uncle because I didn't want to "inconvenience" them--inconvenience them with my family's loss. That is just messed up.)

Okay, okay, okay. That's it. I will try really, really hard (no promises) to stop whining/complaining about The Family (and The Mother in particular). Positive attitude readjustment here I come.

Oh and for all of you who probably [don't] care: The next spawn (The New Baby) is a girl.

Liar Liar

2010-06-07T17:24:00.004+02:00

This is an example of why lying is bad:

Last Wednesday:
The Mother calls me from Paris
TM: Jill I need you to pick up The Boy from school tomorrow at two and bring him into Zürich so I can take him to the doctor's for his appointment at three. Is this a problem?

Let me explain why it was a problem: 1. The Mother (on Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays) is finished with work at 12:30 2. TMoTB, two weeks prior, has asked if I could stay longer (until 2:30) so she could go to this lunchtime concert. I had agreed because it usually isn't a problem.
After I raised these concerns she said:

TM: Didn't I tell you this before? Or was that just The Father?
Jill: Nope, this is the first I've heard of it.
TM:Well I have a call at one for work and I don't know if it will be finished in time. If you leave TMoTB's at two then you will have plenty of time to get The Boy and drop him off by 2:45. I've been to those lunchtime concerts before and they are usually only an hour. Well... I guess I could take the call in the car while I'm driving.
Jill: It's fine. I'll just call TMoTB and tell her that I need to leave earlier.
TM: Do you want me to call TMoTB?
Jill: No thank you, I'd prefer to do it myself. (What am I, in middle school? Having a parent call to confront some one? No way. Actually my parents never in middle school, or ever for that matter, called a school/coach/etc. to complain. Beneficial to both of us I think.)

I wasn't my usual cheerful, chatty self on the phone with her because I was tired from staying up half the night with her child and I couldn't believe she was changing my schedule around less than 24 hours prior which she could tell but I really could care less.

TM: Well TMoTB knows that we are your first priority.
Jill: Yup. It's fine. I'll work it out.

Which I and TMoTB did. She came home by 1:45 and The Boy and I were waiting for his mother by 2:40. When she showed up at 2:55 I didn't even bat an eyelash. I apologized for changing TMoTB's schedule around (for maybe the 37th time) but she is always flexible, accommodating and incredibly gracious.

Well this afternoon I was chatting with TMoTB about my staying extra (she said I should have talked to her first and she would have told me not to!) because she was sad that I and two of her good friends were leaving. She said, "I can't believe three people so close and important to our family are leaving us!" And you know what? She didn't mean it in a "I'm sad you're leaving because you're a great babysitter sort of way," which I thought was nice. In the end she said it was probably best that I stayed because if I hadn't The Mother would have made my last month miserable because (not my words), "She's incredibly mean and hurtful when she doesn't get her way." (I told TMoTB to ask her husband, an American, what the word "pushover" means.) Anyway she said, "Oh and you know something funny? The Mother wasn't on a call last Thursday. She wasn't even at work! My friends told me." Are you kidding me? You had two people change around their already made plans to SHOP?

This is a lesson: either don't let your au pair babysit for your friend because she'll find out when you've been lying to her or just don't lie to your au pair.

Franc-ly Speaking

2010-06-07T17:21:00.002+02:00

Sorry I didn't post over the weekend, our internet was out and finally somehow came back on this afternoon.

I'll write another post in a minute but I just transferred money from my Swiss account to my States one and all I can say is DAMN. The franc is just horrid right now so again, like when I studied abroad, I have a case of "invisible money." I really hate that. But, if you were to come to Switzerland, your dollars would be going farther!

Eleven

2010-06-02T14:16:00.003+02:00

I didn't realize it until this morning but today marks my 11 month anniversary of arrival in Switzerland. Crazy, huh?

Kristina had the bright idea of doing something every month (big or little) to celebrate every month anniversary. I think my gift to myself will be a two week vacation to Greece (sorry Ireland) at the start of July (which of course lands almost on my one year anniversary here).

So to Greece I [hopefully] go!

Any suggestions?

Numerology

2010-06-02T05:32:00.002+02:00

Number of Parents in the house: 0 (The Father is sailing his boat and The Mother is on a business trip for the night)
Number of Children in the house: 2
Au Pairs: 1
Time they were supposed to go to bed: 8 (because I'm in charge and they were too tired this morning)
Time they actually fell asleep because The Mother called and got them all riled up: 8:45
Time I went to bed because now I know how to use the T.V. I had to stay up and watch "I'm turning into a giant": 12:52
Time I was awoken by a crying child in my doorway: 3:59
Time I put her back to bed Numero Uno: 4:15
Time she came back: 4:18
Time I put her back to bed zwei: 4:30
Time I went back up because I could hear her walking around: 4:35
Time I wanted to shout and run out of the house: Tonight or is this a collective thing?
Time I put her back in her bed trois: 4:36
Time I gave her "sleep medicine" (water) and wished it were NyQuil: 4:37
Time I was so exasperated I told her she just had to stay in bed, close her eyes and be quiet: 4:40
Time she finally fell asleep: 5:00
Hours I can nap tomorrow: 0 (I volunteered to take TB b/c TMoTB has a meeting two hours away and it's a long time for TB to hang in the car.)
At 5:40 am my current level of sleepiness is: Nonexistent
Current patience level: -2.9
Number of remaining days where there is the potential for a child to wake me up: 63

Hoping to get back to sleep so I can wake up at: 7:15

Goodnight or good morning--whenever you happen to read this!

Pedantic Parkplätze Persons

2010-06-01T16:08:00.005+02:00

At first I liked the Swiss type-A-ness. The cleanliness, timeliness and rules all made me feel safe and secure in this new country. Now, however, my opinions are far from enthusiastic. I know a lot of the rules (like having a train ticket and the trash and recycling systems) are there to uphold the [pretty high] quality of life but there are some things that really make me pause and want to shout, "Are you kidding me!????!!!"

The latest [mis]adventures have had to do with driving. Now I am a very slow, fairly cautious driver. I've never received a speeding ticket or caused an accident (I've been hit twice though, once when I wasn't even in the car) no points on my license. But a couple weeks ago I got my first parking ticket. I had to drive to TB's house because I had to take Boy to a doctor's appointment immediately after my time with TB. There are marked indicators of where one should park on the street and the only "spot" I could find left me with half of the car sticking out. I figured since anyone could see the cars in front of me had parked so poorly that squeezing into this spot was my only option aside from illegally parking I would remain ticket-free. TB and I took a stroll and the car was fine a half an hour before my departure. When I got back however, there it was, a 40 CHF ticket. I was so angry but there was nothing I could do.

Yesterday I drove into Zürich to meet a friend at the police station to report her stolen purse (and passport, and just about everything important). I only had change for a half hour on the meter and since a meter maid was hanging about I knew I had to be pretty punctual. My ticket expired at 1:59 and as I jogged back to the car I was chatting with Kristina. I rounded the corner to the parking lot when I saw the [stupid evil] meter maid writing me a ticket. I quickly hung up, broke into a full out sprint and began my pleading with the evil meter maid who was writing me a ticket. It was 2:00.
EMM: Something indecipherable in Swiss German.
Me: "Bitte!!" (Please!!)
EMM: She said in German (using the impolite form to address me mind you) You cannot be late. You paid for a half hour.
[The time is now 2:01.]
Me: "Ich weiss. Es tut mir leid. Aber ich bin zwei minuten später!!" (I know, I'm sorry. But I am two minutes later!)
Me: "Nay, nay nay." (No no no.)
More of my half German pleading and she finally let me go without a ticket. I think it might have been the dejected way I laid my head on the front door or maybe she didn't want to deal with my poor foreign language pleading. Either way, she wasn't kind about it and although I entertained the idea I didn't use any of the choice German words that I know.

Swiss Parking Gestapo: 1
Jill: 1

In Memory

2010-05-31T23:01:00.004+02:00

All day I've been sad about my family's sad, unexpected loss this past weekend. I called my Aunt Gina this evening to cry with her (and to her) about how sad I am for her, my grandmother, my mom and my family. My Aunt Gina is an incredible woman and talking with her about my uncle helped me gain some perspective on my current situation.

I've been slipping down the "sneaky hate spiral" (towards self implosion) the past couple weeks. I've started the countdown (65 days left living here, 34 working days!) and although I feel bad about wishing my time away I know once I'm gone I'll miss Switzerland, not necessarily this job. My Aunt Gina said something that stuck though, "Your Uncle Kenny never quit anything he did. He followed everything through, even if it was in his own way, he wasn't a quitter." So for the next 65 days I won't be a quitter (I'll daydream about all the situations in which I would love to yell "I quit!"--which wouldn't be nearly as satisfying because then I'd have to go downstairs and pack all my stuff and then drag it to the bus and train...). I'll try to regain my positive mental attitude if only for my uncle, Gina also said he loved my blog.

Thanks for reading Uncle Kenny. Lots of Semi-Swiss love.

2010-05-31T16:26:00.001+02:00

We'll miss you Uncle Kenny.

Big Brother

2010-05-28T08:35:00.002+02:00

The Swiss are very organized, regimented and rule-abiding. This oft makes for dull citizens but a very organized country. Each little town/village has a "Gemeinde" which in every other place would be considered oppressive and sort of paranoid (think McCarthy-esque). When you arrive in Switzerland for an extended period of time you must register (within eight days of your arrival) bringing with you all this paperwork and information. They already know where you live and have sent you mail reminding you to register within eight days or you will be deported. Then you have three months to show them proof of your Swiss health insurance (which they will remind you of and threaten to deport you if you don't). You have to de-register when you leave and they pretty much know what you're doing at all times. My friend quit her au pairing job AND switched apartments but the Gemeinde still found her. Every time I receive a piece of paper from them my heart starts to pound and I break into a cold sweat. Of course I cannot read anything it says (nor can The Mother or Father) so it only leads to more anxiety. Don't even get me started on when I have to go there myself!

Another weird Big Brother-y thing happened yesterday. Those of you who are familiar with Facebook will know that it often "suggests" friends on the side of people you might know. Usually they have been people I went to Denison with and who I share numerous mutual "friends." I usually ignore it but one of the "suggestions" made me pause, it was my mom's best friend my Auntie Leila(x3). I thought it was pretty nuts because she and I had zero friends in common, so somehow Facebook knew that I knew her? Talk about Big Brother! But, as always, I'm happy to see/hear from Leila, but it just makes me wonder what else does Facebook know?!

Happy weekend everyone!

Walk the Walk

2010-05-27T17:34:00.003+02:00

Last Monday I was with TB and everything was pretty average until she stood up and walked over to me. Now most people when they see a baby take his/her first steps think, "Wow! This is incredible!" I thought, "Oh, crap." See I was the only person around. TFoTB had just left for a business trip to California and TMoTB was out. I just saw the baby take her first steps. I thought about it and decided that I couldn't tell TMoTB. She would be heartbroken to have missed her daughter's first steps alone.

Friday I was chatting with TMoTB whilst she was in the kitchen and TB and I played in her room. TB started to walk again and I was nervous for TMoTB to see so I said, "Wow! TMoTB she's almost ready to walk!" TMoTB agreed and said, "Yeah! She's almost there." Damnit, so TB hadn't walked for her yet. Later on when she returned TB walked in front of the doorway where her mother was. I said, "TMoTB! TB's walking!" TMoTB's reaction? "Oh that's great! Good for her." I should have known, TMoTB is too cool to get mad about missing that!

When I saw TFoTB on Monday he said, "It's incredible! I left Friday and now she's walking all over the place!" I didn't tell him she'd been practicing since Monday.

Francophone

2010-05-26T15:11:00.002+02:00

Yesterday my French teacher gave me a worksheet with nine verbs that I had to conjugate in different tenses. She mostly teaches children so often she'll use those tactics with me like drawing smiley faces when everything is correct or putting a sticker on my worksheet. She said if I conjugated all the verbs in all the tenses correctly, I'd get a treat. I'm sure that this would have been a great motivator for me if I were nine but for me, the biggest motivation is, you know, learning French. Having successfully conjugated all the verbs (fist pump) she said, "Wait, you are 18, right?" I figured it had something to do with my youthful glow and promptly forgot about it.

At the end of the lesson she went to the kitchen and brought back my treat. When I've been rewarded in the past it has usually been a candy of some sort (once, Iced Tea, it was a ChupaChup!). This time, she brought back a bottle of Pastisse, a French alcohol. My teacher rewarded my learning with booze. I swear if my Chemistry professor had done that in college my grades would have been significantly higher...

Also, on the way home she was telling me a story about something Girl said in the car the other day. They were taking another boy home and Girl looked at him and said, "My mommy's going to have a baby. She and my dad spent three whole days in the shower making it." (Insert oh dear god.) When my teacher told The Mother she laughed and then said, "Oh god! Is that what she's telling everyone at school?"

The Land of the Free and the Home of Skim Milk

2010-05-26T08:33:00.002+02:00

Dear America,

See you August 5th.

Love,
jill

Potty Un-Trained

2010-05-25T22:51:00.002+02:00

Today I was planning to write a funny-ish TB story.

Then I had French class and I planned to write the funny things that happened there.

But then, this afternoon, Boy was supposed to take the bus home per usual (Girl was at swim lessons with my French teacher and her butt-monkey son). I looked at the clock at 3:55 and wondered where the bus was (also wondered why it couldn't have been ten minutes late last Friday). I was sitting on the patio so I went around the corner to where the front door was, prepared to walk to the mailbox/street and look for Boy. I saw Boy, standing in front of a potted plant by the front door. He was standing sideways-ish with a yellow stream coming from the front of his pants.

Boy (current age: 9) was PEEING on the front lawn. In broad daylight. I'd like to say that he was of sound mind and body but this is Boy we're talking about--I'm never sure. PEEING. I asked him what the heck he thought he was doing, made him stop mid-flow (yeah sorry if it's "tough" it wouldn't have been so tough had you opened the unlocked front door and went to the bathroom that is literally right there) and finish in the bathroom. He said he couldn't hold it. I told him he was not a dog and that it was socially and behaviorally unacceptable to urinate on the front lawn.

Learns something new everyday that boy.

Happy Monday!

2010-05-24T20:27:00.003+02:00

This morning I went to TB's house as per usual. Since my kids didn't have school I knew TBoTB (the brother of That Baby) would most likely be home, and I'd be hanging out with him as well. TBoTB is perhaps the most well mannered, kind, thoughtful boy (without being obnoxious) and I really enjoy him. When TMoTB answered the door she said, not unkindly, "What are you doing here?" I told her we mentioned Friday see you Monday and that I was home so I would see if she needed me. She said if I wanted I could stay otherwise I was free to go. She had the appropriate response when I told her I missed the chance to go to Istanbul (appropriate response being outraged gasp) and told me what a shame it was I didn't get to go.

I noticed four sets of photos on the table, wallet sized pictures of TMoTB, TFoTB, TBoTB and then me. I gave her a quizzical look and she explained that they were going to get their season passes for this pool (one that I took Boy and Girl to a lot last year, sometimes having to pay my own entrance fee) and she thought that, since I love to be in the sun and outside, that I could take TB there on my mornings with her. And wouldn't it be nicer if I just had a pass, so I could go with my friends and not have to pay? Not only did they buy my pool pass (no inexpensive pass mind you) they actually used a good photo of me for the picture! (The picture is of TB and I the day of her Baptism.)

I took TB and TBoTB to the pool where we played, had lunch, suntanned (me, not TB) and where TB peed (on me--apparently those "water-safe diapers" aren't leak proof...) and had what my father would call "a poop explosion." (Is it odd that poop explosion is a catch phrase of ours?) Despite the massive fecal matter situation awaiting when we arrived home it was a very enjoyable day.

I've said it once, I'll say it again: I love TMoTB.
Another funny TB story to come later.

And One More Thing...

2010-05-24T01:22:00.003+02:00

And one more irksome thing, before I end the self-pitying tirade that I've been on. (Promise to have a better attitude this week.)

Friday The Father says, "Do you have to work Monday? The kids don't have school and I'm not sure if The Mother or I have to work." (I know The Mother has it off because one of my friend's employers works for the same place and she has it off but the calendars didn't say anything about the kids not having school.) I said I wasn't told anything so I bought my ticket to come back Sunday. The Mother is usually on top of this stuff and I hadn't seen her since Wednesday morning so I was out of the loop.

Saturday I get a text message from her that says, "Hi! I don't know if you know but Monday is a bank holiday. We are both at home so you don't have to work... you can stay an extra day in Milan if you want/can! Have a good week-end. The Mother" When I read this I literally yelled in disbelief a few choice words combined with "Are you kidding me?!?!?" I have wanted to go to Istanbul since my junior year of college and one of my friends Pei Wen (with a great blog! Check it out on the side) was heading there this weekend but coming back too late Monday morning so I would have had to miss work so I couldn't go. Kristina and Danielle both had the day off so they headed Sunday to Cinque Terre (a little ways from Milan) and just about my most favorite place on earth. But my ticket was for Sunday (and I'm trying to do this whole "responsible with my money thing" so I didn't go because I would have had to get a new ticket home).

As I was regaling my friends about the perils of The Family they all voiced a similar opinion: That The Family has absolutely no regard for my time. My time is of very little consequence to them, unless it inconveniences them.

But, on the bright side, I did send a suitcase full of winter clothes to Gabri to be brought to the States and then brought to Minnesota when Ellen comes in August! Thank you Gabri and Ellen I CANNOT wait to see you!!!!

Say It With Me Now: AGH!!!

2010-05-24T00:09:00.002+02:00

My friend Molly used to say how I seemed to have an unflappable amount of patience (especially when teaching German to our friend Brittney--who was a much better German student than she gave herself credit for). Last week however, my patience ran out.

And now, a chronicle of all the times I lost my patience throughout the week:

I awoke Monday morning tired from my weekend and a little more than annoyed that after 11 months, five days a week Boy still hadn't mastered our morning routine and every morning I have to get on him to brush his teeth, stop playing with those toys, make his bed and get dressed. It isn't just once I remind him, it is a series of reminders (some might call it nagging) from about 7:45 until they get on the bus at 8:18. I could feel my patience draining away and, as it looks right now, never to return. Monday morning The Mother said she had a lot of work so I would need to be home for after school. I was a little peeved because I had planned to do work for this semi-internship thing that I have here but she said she'd be home in the middle of piano lessons at four so it would just be a few minutes. I almost lost it with Boy when he started to tear up because I wouldn't scoop out his kiwi for him. (Yes you read that correctly.) I was thinking, "There are about 12 million things to cry about: world hungry, child sex slaves, child soldiers, unnecessary wars, the fact that Arizona has basically legalized racism/discrimination... But kiwis? Are you for real? Four comes and goes, as does five, six, seven when The Mother and Father return at 8:15 as I'm reading to the kids and putting them to bed. "Sorry we ran a little late."

Tuesday morning was more of the same. Tuesday afternoon my French teacher now takes Girl and her son to swimming so I just pick her up at 5:30 and then drop Boy off at his swim lessons. Boy and I had to do some of his French homework (I literally have to sit next to him to get him to focus). Later, when he said he could conjugate the verbs on his own, I busied myself setting the table/making dinner/et cetera when he comes downstairs and asks me if he should be conjugating the verb in the idicatif or the subjonctif. I turned to Boy and said, "Have you learned the subjontif yet?" And he said no and then I asked if he had the Bescherelle book (which conjugates just about every French verb in existence) and something he was forbidden (by his teacher) to use during these exercises. He said it's in my room in the drawer. I walk into his room and it is lying open on his desk. I was furious that he has just blatantly lied to my face and when I told his parents later they weren't as furious as I had hoped... Tuesday afternoon The Mother calls and says she's going to be stuck at the office for a while but The Father should be home soon. During dinner The Father calls and says he'll be home later and "I hope you didn't have any plans." Super. As Boy and Girl are going to bed Boy starts to snivel and cry because "I haven't seen my mom since this morning." I turn on my kind, loving super-nanny powers and calmly say, "Boy, I haven't seen my parents since Christmas. They live on a different continent. You were fine 10 seconds ago when you were reading. I. Don't. Want. To. Hear. It." And then I left the room. The Parents got home around 10 pm.

Wednesday morning was okay. Boy took the bus home and skipped French and I had to take him to meet his dad for a doctor's appointment. I left my keys in the house thinking I'd just use the car key's house key when I realized that I left them in the car. With the dad. So I had to sit outside my house for two hours waiting for them to get home, I could see my keys mocking me from the counter. Later I was talking about some of my friends' jobs here and he said, "So did you have any difficulty/problems advising the next au pair on our family?" What was I supposed to do, say, "It was a struggle to keep from saying everything I wanted." I did tell him that I told her that there would be some days when she didn't like it (at all) and those days she was welcome to give me a call. He looked at me in disbelief and said, "Really? You didn't like it sometimes?" (A kudos to my acting ability I suppose.) TMoTB when I recounted the story to her said, "Are you kidding? If they get frustrated with their kids after 20 minutes how do they expect you to do it?" Couldn't have said it better myself.

Thursday afternoon The Mother was on a business trip so I was there after school. This was the fastest I have ever yelled at the kids. They get off the bus, come to the door and "ding-dong," ring the bell. Then I hear, "dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdongdingdongdingdong." Halfway through I just scream "STOP!!!!!!!!!!" I hadn't even let them in the door and already I had screamed, a new record. I asked why on earth they rang the doorbell so many times and they said they couldn't hear me coming. I replied they couldn't hear me because they rang the bell so many times. Boy and I did some more homework (only after he spilled juice all over his power point presentation and the mail and just said, "Jill" and pointed to it), I made dinner, gave them baths (note to The Family: nine is too old for me to be giving him a bath!) and was again reading to them when The Father got home at 8:15. I bolted out of the house to meet my friends for drinks and to regain some sanity.

Friday morning was the same as the other mornings. Girl had a kindergarten production of "Stone Soup" that I couldn't attend because I had TB but The Father was going to but still asked if I could be there after school because he had to run a few errands (errands for his sailing equipment, I had already done the grocery shopping the day before). The kids arrive home at 3:45 and that is what time I arrive home with the bus. Of course, my bus was late (by Swiss standards) so I arrived at 3:48. The door was open so I burst in, after running like a bat out of hell from my stop, to find both kids inside (stuff strewn about, not neatly put away like with me) and The Father lying on the couch, eyes closed. Sweaty and out of breath I say sorry and he says, "Good thing I was here. I took Girl home from her show and it was a good thing for when Boy got home." Now see The Mother told me earlier in the year that if ever she or I is running late the kids know to wait outside and that one of us will be there momentarily. The Father seemed bothered by it but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of groveling. He kept bringing it up to Boy saying things like, "Boy, do you know what to do if no one is home?" and other passive aggressive things of that nature. He finally came into Boy's room (where we were working on German homework) and said, "Jill I know it was only a couple minutes today, but I really need you to be here when they get home after school." I looked at him and said, "I'm sorry and it won't happen again." And as The Father is walking out of Boy's room Boy says, (kid you not) "This is the second time this has happened." I swear the look on my face started out incredulous, went to shock and then finally rested upon Satanic-rage. I responded (sorry, I couldn't not) "This is the second time in ELEVEN MONTHS I have been late." (Wanted to add your parents were late THREE times this week.) I was inwardly seething and counted down the hours until I would be headed out of town with my friends. The Father then offered to drive me to the train station because he was heading out to pick up Chinese food for dinner. I was waiting for him when he called up the stairs, "Okay guys when I get back I want you to be in your p.j.s. I have my phone if you need me and I'll be home in about a half hour." HE WAS LEAVING THEM HOME ALONE. After I had been chastised for a three minute delay in broad daylight he was leaving them alone in the evening for a half hour. Are you [expletive] kidding me?

And so the countdown begins.

I Meant to Post This Friday

2010-05-21T18:56:00.002+02:00

This week has reminded me how much I hate this job. And, consequently, has made me kick myself (several times) because I could be finished in one month instead of two.

I will elaborate (in a rage filled tirade later) but for now, the weekend. Off with great friends for a fun, sunny weekend in Milan.

Oh, Boy?

2010-05-20T17:54:00.003+02:00

My last semester of college I took a Gender & Communications course (go liberal arts education!) and learned a lot about gender stereotypes and how they can effect one's whole life. I like to consider myself open minded and open to breaking gender stereotypes (except really long nails on guys. Actually long nails on anyone--yeesh).

With that being said, I couldn't help but laugh at the situation that presented itself the other day:

I was playing trucks with Girl in her room whilst Boy was upstairs listening, dancing and singing along to... wait for it... Lady Gaga. I'd like to say that this is a new thing for Boy but since I've caught him painting Girl's nails, attempting to do her makeup, wearing his mother's high heels and coming into the room with a FULL face of his mother's makeup (we can't even call this "guy-liner" it was straight up girl style).

I often call Girl "girlfriend" but perhaps I'm saying it to the wrong child? (Just kidding mom, I won't be that mean to Boy).

A Tale of Two Bathrooms

2010-05-19T23:02:00.003+02:00

One thing that really sucks about my particular au pairing position is that I don't have a private bathroom. I share a full bathroom with the kids on the second floor but I usually brush my teeth and use the facilities in the bathroom on the first floor. I keep all my stuff in a little box in the corner so as to not be obvious as it is still a guest bathroom, but I like to pretend it is mine. The kids will use it on occasion but it is rarely occupied.

This is where the story gets gross. I went upstairs to pee and brush (don't forget floss!) my teeth and The Father was still up. Whenever one of the Parents is still up I always go through the internal dilemma: go upstairs (where I also keep floss and a toothbrush) or just use "my" bathroom--something about my employer hearing me pee just doesn't sit right. I decided to go for it and use the first floor bathroom. Mistake. I walked in and it had clearly just been occupied. And the previous occupant had left shall we say, a distinct smell there. Now poo smell is gross. (Sorry Howie.) And some one else's poo is even more gross. (Sorry again Howie.) And that that some one else who just happens to be your boss' poo is even more gross. But, the worst part about it is that The Father was sitting there so we both knew what I was getting in to. I walked in, tried not to gag and then realized I was stuck. I could either run screaming out of there, walk out and calmly go upstairs to use the facilities, or go through my nightly routine whilst holding my breath. I chose the latter because I'm too awkward for anything else.

How is one supposed to handle herself in that situation?! Yuck.

Can You Cope[enhagen]?

2010-05-19T21:21:00.005+02:00

I bought my tickets to Milan this weekend (it's going to be 80 and sunny. I need that!) AND I have to take a longer route home (40 minutes longer) which I bought because it allowed me to use my card that gets me home for free (making the trip much cheaper). Have I learned NOTHING from my last blog post? Apparently so.

Alright, back to Copenhagen.
I arrived Friday at noon and met up with my friend Chris (remember the American football player from this past summer and Oktoberfest?). Naturally, we had no place to stay yet so that was our first order of business. We walked up and down the Stroget (main shopping street) but the places we encountered were way, way out of our price range. I had written down the name of a place so we took the metro and tried to find it. After finally obtaining a room (and let's say the word room was generous, I'd call it jail cell) we set out to find dinner and sample some Danish beer. We sampled a lot of beer from numerous bars (you know, to get an accurate representation), explored gray Copenhagen and had a blast catching up. (Chris is now playing American football again in Stockholm and just spent the previous months in Australia. Kid has a rough life, I know.) After a pit-stop at the Hotel EuroGlobe we headed back out to meet up with some friendly CouchSurfers. We spent a fun evening out with them (even if the club we ended up at was definitely a 18+ kind of place...).

Saturday weather.com promised low 60s and sunny skies. Well the temperature was definitely low and the skies were rainy and overcast. We headed into the city center for some sightseeing, had lunch by a canal and mostly froze on our expedition. I had to see some of the city (although heading back and doing dramatic readings from Chris' ridiculous book again would have been entertaining) so we decided the best plan of attack would be a boat tour around. The tour was fine until we got to the famous Little Mermaid statue. And by statue I mean billboard. The statue, for the first time in its history, is not in Copenhagen (Griswald!). It is in Shanghai. No joke. Halfway through our boat tour we began to see who could draw a better animal in 10 seconds or less. I guess rainy weather is conducive to my lack of attention span. After more touring we called it a [very very cold] day and headed back where I stood in the shower for approximately 20 minutes just to warm up again. We rallied for the evening and met up with one of the guys from the night before who made us go to a mambo club. Not even kidding. My lack of rhythm was readily apparent but if you can't laugh at yourself...

Sunday was spent touring a bit more, dodging the rain and then traveling cross countries to make it home. I think I would have liked Copenhagen a bit more had the weather been better but I still had a blast.

Next stop: Milan (part 4!)

Live and Learn

2010-05-18T15:16:00.007+02:00

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."--George Santayana

I think Mr. Santayana's quote was probably directed at me.

I frequently learn life's most difficult lessons, twice.

For instance:
-It took me two semesters at college to realize just how inept I was in chemistry.
-I had to learn about not lying to your parents because they always (and I mean always) find out. Once after that little party I had senior year and after the stupid Principal's daughter crashed into my car (I wasn't even in it! I was parked... at a party).
-I've learned "beer before liquor, never been sick-er" a number of times. Come to think of it, I still have to re-learn that on occasion.
-That it's never the same twice.
-That eating Incredible's Pizza (incredible would be a gross exaggeration for this "food") after a bar party at school is never a good idea.
-That getting off a plane/train in a foreign city/country without any ideas and/or plans isn't always the best course of action.
-That when I get to a foreign city/country without any ideas, plans or places to stay will all work out (especially with my last traveling partner).
-That that last, last bite is never worthwhile.
-That eating junk and/or dairy right before a fitness test/set of sprints in lacrosse will always result in me barfing. (Nice visual, I'm sure.)
-To dress for the weather (and now, consequently, not to trust weather.com).
-Last but certainly not least: traveling out of your way to save money.

A history of the last time I did it:
When I was studying abroad my friend Molly and I wanted to go to London. The cheapest tickets were out of Bratislava which was only a 45 minute bus ride from Vienna. Unfortunately, with these cheap tickets also came a very early departure time of six am. The only bus that would get us to Bratislava in time for our flight was the last one at 12:3o am. We took the bus (which almost didn't show because it was blizzarding) arrived at the near desolate airport and tried to find a comfortable place to sleep. I don't know how many of you have ever tried to sleep in a Slovakian airport in late November, but I can assure you, it's not particularly comfortable. Lack of sleep definitely took its toll (we may or may not have been hallucinating during Wicked). On the way home we took a different airline, still through Bratislava, which allowed only one carry-on bag so we had to put on just about every article of clothing so as to consolidate our luggage. We could hardly bend our arms or sit down and at that moment I thought, "Is this really worth it?" (But being a poor college kid of course it was.)

It happened again this past weekend. In an effort to save money I was going to fly to Copenhagen from Geneva and then fly back to Milan. My flight to Copenhagen left at the normal hour of 10 am however the 2.5 hours it takes to train to Milan accompanied by my chronic need to be early for flights had me leaving on a 4:57 am train. I left my house a little after 4:30 only to walk out into the rain (super). About a third of the way down the hill I realized I had forgotten my boarding passes (super duper) but I didn't want to risk it by running back up to grab them. After the early morning the rest of the travel experience was uneventful which was nice. Plus all my stuff for a whole weekend fit into my red Longchamp bag. I've carried bigger bags to the gym so I was very impressed.
The way home, however, was not so easy. When I went to the train station Wednesday to buy a return ticket from Milan (which is a four hour train ride and it's not even the main Milan airport, it was an hour bus ride outside) the man informed me that since it was a holiday weekend all the trains were full, all day. I asked him if I could just stand (how many times have I been on an overcrowded Italian train?) he flatly refused me. I asked if I could have any ticket to anywhere in Switzerland and I'd just use my Gleis 7 to ride back from whatever city I was in. Nope, that was not going to work either. I affected my "it's all going to work out" attitude and hoped that my friend Gabri could persuade them to give me a ticket on the Italian side (no dice). Saturday morning I realized that a train home was pretty much out of the question until Monday and I needed to find an alternate means back to Switzerland. I entertained the idea of renting a car but my [lack of] stick shift skills would have left me either in a horrible accident and/or still circling in an endless roundabout. Plus, if I got a ticket they probably would have taken me in on account of my mother having an outstanding speeding ticket from there. I then remembered that my friend Shelley has a car so I asked decided I could lose nothing by asking for this huge, huge favor. She, amazingly and generously, said yes and we agreed to meet in Como right on the Italian border of Switzerland and Italy.
My flight arrived a little late but being the prepared kid I was I bought my bus ticket mid flight so as I exited the plane I had to "bust a move" (another one of my dad's favorite phrases) to get to the bus terminal. I ran through the mostly empty airport (creepy) and took the very last seat on the bus (yes!). Gabri had looked up train times for me (thanks man!) so I bought a ticket at the automated machine and had 35 minutes to spare. When I got to the tracks however I didn't see any signage for my train to Como. I asked a man and he said, all whilst laughing, that silly me! This train left from a different station, five metro stops away. A large expletive formed on my lips but instead I thanked him and took off for the metro. The first three machines didn't take credit cards (I had no Euros on me) so I was already a little panicky and more than a little sweaty. I got my metro ticket and raced to the correct platform. No train for six minutes and it was 6:20!! I rode the metro in a my paranoid state (re: looking at the clock on my phone every 37 seconds) and then ran (in a couple circles) around the correct station looking for the trains. Usually, in Milan, you have to put your metro ticket through the machine when you exit as well but the guy in front of me didn't so I barreled through. I finally found my track and had less than a minute to spare. There was another plastic partition in front of me which I figured would open automatically. It didn't. Which I learned by crashing into it. I made it though (forgot to validate my ticket but luckily it wasn't checked) and met Shelley in Como. We grabbed a delicious dinner, saw the sunset over the lake, and then crossed the border (on foot) back to her car in Switzerland. We set off back towards Zürich around 10 pm and it was smooth sailing until the Gothard Tunnel where we encountered 1.5 hours of stop and stop some more traffic. Finally arrived at 1:30 am and Shelley had to continue back to her house (I mean this was above and beyond kind and generous).

I have definitely learned that perhaps convenience is worth the added price. That is, until my next trip.

Tadaaaaa!

2010-05-18T00:43:00.000+02:00

DELTA CONFIRMATION #:  B7RPYP
TICKET #:  00623267520444
                                Bkng                          Meals/ Seat/
Day Date       Flight     Status Class       City        Time  Other  Cabin
--- ----- --------------- ------ ----- ---------------- ------ ------ -------
Tue 31AUG DELTA 2421        OK     T   LV MINNEAPOLS/   500P     F     **
                                         STPAUL                      COACH
                                      AR LOS ANGELES   659P       

Tue 31AUG DELTA 17          OK     T   LV LOS ANGELES   1035P    D     **
                                      AR SYDNEY        635A          COACH

Guess I'm going home first! (Surprise mom and dad!)

Happy Anniversary to Me

2010-05-17T09:19:00.003+02:00

Just had the following conversation with Kristina via Skype chat:

Jill: I'm not cut out for the real world.
Kristina: word.

Today is the one year anniversary of my college graduation--look how far I've come!

Three in One

2010-05-17T01:47:00.002+02:00

I woke up in Denmark, flew to Italy and am going to bed (finally!) in Switzerland. I'd call that the Kristina Special--three countries in one day!

I made it back (thanks to an incredible, incredible friend Shelley who DROVE to ITALY to pick me up because no train would let me return!). Copenhagen was great, the weather was not, my fever thankfully broke Thursday night so by the time I left for my 4:57 am train to Geneva Friday morning I was feeling a whole lot better.

I promise to explain all the details of my Danish experience but for now, bed.

When I was explaining the issues I might have returning home today my mother said, "It's always an adventure with you Jill."

Occupational Hazards

2010-05-13T11:06:00.002+02:00

Like many jobs, being an indentured servant (I mean au pair) has its occupational hazards. There's a chance you might set your hair ablaze and run screaming from the house just to get away from the perils that lie within (let's just forget about the time I set my hair on fire on accident). You could burn yourself on the iron from hell or the oven. You will most likely be subjected to lice and other small, disgusting parasites. You will have your ears attacked by obnoxious songs and/or, my personal torture, "Jack & Annie." The books are interesting stories about history but on tape, they make me want to attack the iPod. The author, Mary Pope Osbourne, reads them and her voice and the voices she does for Jack and Annie make me long for the days of High School Musical once more. Perhaps the biggest occupational hazard though, is sickness. You are constantly subjected to the germs of these kids, and if they are like mine and go to school all day, the germs of hundreds of other children. Last week The Mother and Father were both gone a lot so it was mostly Girl and I hanging about (Boy was also gone). Girl was a bit under the weather but that didn't stop her from a.) wiping her nose on my person, b.) trying to LICK me (and yet, she's still my favorite) c.) constant touching and/or climbing on me. Thanks to G, I am now under the weather and not too happy about it. My flu-like symptoms are going to have to go by tomorrow morning so I can enjoy my weekend in Denmark. For now, I'll just be raiding the medicine drawers and hoping to use my rudimentary German and French skills to figure out and ingest as much medicine as possible! Glad I already knew the French word for flu: La Grippe. Why must the French make everything sound better when it is just the lousy old flu?

Please?

2010-05-10T16:19:00.002+02:00

Dear Eyjafjallajokull (The Icelandic volcano),

Please, please do not erupt again. It's bad for poor Iceland's environment and it would really bother me if I couldn't make my flight to Copenhagen on Friday. (P.S. Going to Copenhagen Friday! Well, I hope I am.) So please, stop spewing your volcanic ash, disrupting the weather and airline flights. Thank you.

Sincerely,

jill

Catch Phrase

2010-05-09T21:59:00.001+02:00

Today is Mother's Day (Mutter Tag here) and I know I always wax poetic on how wonderful my mother is--and she really is--but today, I'm heading in another direction.

When I was a kid I thought that everything my family did was the norm, I didn't know that macaroni and cheese wasn't made with cottage cheese until the 3rd grade. It was a big shock at the time, I promise. Most families have their own inside jokes (busted like a cheese biscuit or busted like a fromaggio biscotti when we're in Europe, death marching, bloody stumps, Griswald to name a few) and mine is no different. I realized the other day just how many catch phrases my parents' use and how many of them I have adopted. I didn't even realize I was using them until I would start to say them and Boy and Girl would finish my sentence for me.

Parental Unit (another saying) Quotable Quotes:
From Meine Mutter:

"Let's go, let's go, let's really go!" (Sung more often than spoken.)
Nicknames like Doobie, Monkey doodle (both of which I have given to Boy and Girl)
"You'll be great, you'll be swell!" (The show tune she used to sing to me before big days at school which was horribly embarrassing and I now sing to my kids.)
"Third times' a charm!"
My mother often breaks out into song and/or makes up new lyrics to songs on the radio when she doesn't remember them.
"Mean green bean"

From my Father:

"Put your napkin on your lapkin."
"If you're not early, you're late."
"Hey, I don't make the rules, I just follow them." (I am following The Mother and Father's instructions whilst he was most likely following my mom's or just making them up as he went along.)
"My brains are dusty." (Applies only post-sneeze.)
"You've got wild baby hair." (What my family calls bed-head.)
"Butt monkey." (To which my kids said, "That's a bad word!")
"Ready for inspection?" (This was during my room cleaning but now I do it with their teeth brushing.)
"You'll be eligible..." (Eligibility for things was a big part of my childhood.)

There are a few phrases that I haven't started to say yet:
My mother's biggest insult: "You turkey!"
Or these other gems from my dad: "Saddle up and ride, muchachos," "Buddy Lee, man of action," "Report back" (I was either reporting back, getting ready for inspection or trying to be eligible for something during my childhood, and no, my dad is not Captain von Trapp) and I was often "Narda" apparently an old magicians assistant, every time I assisted him I was "Narda-ing."

So to my mother: Happy Mother's Day! I love you mom, je t'aime beaucoup.

Better Late Than Never

2010-05-08T22:06:00.002+02:00

I can type with my eyes closed.
I can find my way, literally and figuratively, around foreign cities without issue.
I can send a text message like nobody's business.
I figured out how to fix my computer (take it to the Apple store).

And now, I can turn on the T.V. in this house!! Sure it only took 10 months, but better late than never, right?

When It Rains...

2010-05-07T00:08:00.002+02:00

So the Parents have both been traveling the last couple of weeks and so I've had "a lot more to do." (A lot more for my job, not yours Allie/Kristen.) They have paid me more AND given me more time off. Monday I got my second official afternoon off (which resulted in lots of weisse beers with Kristina and some Thai food) and tonight the Father asked the girl if she wanted a ride to school. She said absolutely and he told me I could HAVE THE MORNING OFF. This has NEVER happened to me. Since July. Of course tonight when I got home (from more weisse beers with Kristina and co.) I made her snack and got everything ready for tomorrow morning so all he would have to do is give Girl breakfast and get her dressed (I've already picked out her clothes for tomorrow, packed her bag and made her snack for school). [Note: Boy has been gone all week for a school trip=awesome!]

It is odd because I was feeling so taken advantage of right before Christmas and they didn't pay me extra nor really thank me for all the hell I was in, but these past two weeks the Parents have been incredibly appreciative. Weird, but I'm happy for this change of pace.

Also exciting travel plans coming up! More soon!

Additionally

2010-05-05T20:10:00.002+02:00

I almost forgot! The best part about TB's birthday:

When I told TMoTB that if TB goes to school in the U.S. everyone will always want to celebrate her birthday since it falls on Cinco de Mayo. When I explained what Cinco de Mayo is she said, "Well that's great! I love margaritas!"

Isn't that what every mother wants? Their child to be born on a party-holiday?

Uno de Baby

2010-05-05T10:13:00.006+02:00

Some of you might be wondering why my title is "Uno de Baby" instead of Cinco de Mayo but today, my friends, is TB's first birthday.

TB and I have had a pretty good relationship for the past eight months. I realized the other day that the longest I've heard her cry cannot be longer than 30 seconds, both Boy and Girl cry, on average, more than 30 seconds per day. She rarely cries (at least with me) and if I ever have children I hope they have similar dispositions. TB is also very much a ham (wonder where she got that quality?). She rarely growls when we're in the company of my friends and she has yet to perform her cell phone trick. What, you might wonder, is the cell phone trick? Well the other day I was changing TB's diaper (woof) and gave her a toy cell phone to play with so she doesn't wiggle off the table. When you squeeze the phone it rings and all of a sudden she takes the phone and brings it to her ear. Like a real phone. The baby, who cannot talk or fully walk, knows how to answer a phone!!! I definitely think she learned that little habit from me.

There are three things that my friends say when they meet TB. In order they go:
1. Yeah, you're right. She isn't that cute...
2. Wow Jill, she really looks like you! (So let me get this straight, you don't think she's cute and she looks like me. Meaning you don't think I'm cute?!)
3. (This one happens after they've spent some time with her and I think it's after they've seen what a good baby she is.) You know what, she is cute!

Yesterday though, I got evidence of TB hamming it up, growling and using her cell phone.

A Love Hate Relationship

2010-05-03T14:26:00.004+02:00

My travels have taken me to vastly different places with incredibly different inhabitants however, in all my European travels there has remained one constant in every city. That constant is scaffolding. I hate scaffolding. It is the bane of my European travel existence. Seriously. Nothing is worse than coming up to a church that is hundreds of years old only to have your view impeded by scaffolding. Now I realize that people are just trying to help keep the building intact for future tourists but still, I hate scaffolding. Wait, I sit corrected, what is worse than the plane scaffolding is when buildings drape a large piece of cloth over the scaffolding with a picture of what the building is supposed to look like underneath. Talk about patronizing. I don't want to look at a screen-printed image of gargoyles, I want to see their contorted, weather beaten faces for myself!

Our "neighborhood" decided to all paint their houses and windows (either a display of Swiss "togetherness" or a display of the controlling nature of the Swiss. You be the judge). I woke up last Monday to the sounds of scaffolding. Our house has scaffolding around it:

Unfortunately, that isn't even the worst part. The worst part have to be the men and woman who are working on our house. I have a routine every morning: I peel myself out of bed, go upstairs, go into the bathroom, rid myself of excess water (the nicest way I could think to put it) and then brush my teeth. Well last Monday morning I closed the blinds so I could do just that but Tuesday morning as I was winding the blinds down (they are these exterior-steel blinds that you have to crank down and up) the painted had the audacity to knock on the window and tell me he needed to have it rolled up. Meaning I could either complete my morning routine with the painter peeping or hold it until later. Naturally, I decided to hold it until after I put the kids on the bus. I ran back inside and upstairs to the next bathroom but lo and behold there he was again! I ran upstairs and another group were examining the top floor patio. It was a painter-bathroom conspiracy. I'd like to tell you it has gotten better but in fact it is quite the opposite. They left their supplies outside the downstairs bathroom so even if they are nowhere to be seen just as I'm trying to sneak in they'll pop their heads up and WAVE to me. The painters seem to know exactly when some one will be using the toilet and/or shower and are at that window at the exact moment. And it isn't just me. One morning the painters were no where to be seen until the Mother needed to take her shower. Then, of course, they were outside her window. The worst part about it is, when they are finished with our house, they will just move next door and have better leverage to look in our windows! At least we will be able to close the blinds and use the facilities in peace.

Man, I hate scaffolding.

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

2010-05-02T21:39:00.003+02:00

Tomorrow my friend Kristen leaves. And as happy as I am for her to be returning to our motherland, selfishly, I'm sad she's going. You may remember Kristen from stories about: Zermatt & the Matterhorn, Oktoberfest, going to Liechtenstein on a whim or just spending weekends at her apartment.

Kristen has been a Semi-Swiss reader since the start of our friendship and she has always been encouraging of my fledgling blogging skills and is pushing me to write a book on my year--partly so she can garner the fame from being a character in what is sure to be a best-seller, kidding! (She also wanted me to a commit a crime so she could hide me in her apartment and publish my writings from an undisclosed location, then I'd get caught and gain even more fame whilst I am serving my time--hoping that dream dies since she leaves the country tomorrow.) So thanks for reading!

Kristen and I also overcame an obstacle that a lot of friendships don't face: traveling. Traveling with some one is difficult. Traveling well with some one is even harder. Traveling well and remaining friends is a serious challenge. Kristen and I met at the au pair meeting one Wednesday and solidified our friendship that afternoon: she knew where the Patagonia store was in Zürich and I knew where The North Face store was. And thus a friendship was born. That weekend we went to Zermatt together and on the train there I realized that I had been missing girls when I traveled. We also are compatible when we travel: we both know when it's time to eat and more importantly drink, when it is time to sight see and when it is time to sit, relax and enjoy your surroundings. We know when it's time to shop and when it is appropriate to take photos (okay well she hasn't really learned that skill yet--while I, on the other hand, never take pictures). Kristen also, cannot read a map. Which one would think would be a bad trait, however it plays into my bossy, controlling nature (Uncles J, J & J wonder where I got that habit?) so being able to take control of the situation worked well for both of us.

I'll definitely miss you Kristen and let me impart some words of wisdom on you (different from the ones you told Wyatt this afternoon though): Don't mix Benadryl and alcohol. Travel safe.

I'm With Stupid

2010-04-30T08:47:00.005+02:00

I have done a lot of really, really stupid things in my 23 years. I've cut my own hair (repeatedly), I've had a party when my parents were out of town (sorry about that), I've accidentally cut/scraped/tripped/hurt myself on numerous occasions, I am terribly clumsy (Kristen/Danielle you especially know what I'm talking about) but most of the stupid stuff I've done has been the result of a dare. In kindergarten my friend's cousin told me the phone wasn't plugged in and then dared me to call 911. Well that Mickey Mouse phone was plugged in and I was nervous/embarrassed when they called back (long before the days of called ID) I don't think I saw that girl again until middle school! (And I never saw that cousin again!) A majority of the stupid dares I've done have come from one person, my brother. Usually Jack's dares involve my doing an activity that has some sort of bodily harm involved but there's no one who can egg me on to do stuff than him. Remember when I jumped off the dock in the Outer Banks into the sand and one foot of water (resulting in a semi-sprained ankle)? Or when I ran through our electric fence with the dog's shock collar on? Or the time Jack and I were waiting for our mother once outside of church and he said he didn't think I could jump from the elevated curb to the top of the [closed] dumpster. Sure it looked far away but I wasn't going to lose face in front of him (Note: this event took place within the last 2-3 years). It is, however, a two way street. Jack is susceptible to my dares and taunts. Even in Korea! I dared him to eat a really, really hot pepper and whilst I was still taunting he grabbed the pepper and shoved it into his mouth. But as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words:

Bet these make you proud M&D! Christmas card 2010?

You are probably wondering why you had to read all these anecdotes about when I've done something dumb. You see I was hoping to put it in perspective, that perhaps my latest foray into the realm of stupidity would not be the greatest. Let me explain:

Last night as I was going to bed I wanted to light a candle (you know to keep away the spiders or if they were conversely attracted to the light then perhaps send them to a fire-y death--I'm so loving). It was dark in my room so I brought the match closer to my face to light it. Bringing the match closer to my face also brought the match closer to my hair... Yes, I set my hair on fire. Not a lot of it (thank goodness) but enough to create that "burnt hair smell." I wonder if there's any way to blame this one on Jack too?

Great Expectations

2010-04-29T21:50:00.002+02:00

Whenever I get mad and/or sad my mother, wise sage that she is, tells me the real reason I'm upset is because it didn't turn out how I had planned. And though I hate to admit it, she's pretty much always correct and sympathetic, which makes me feel even worse (which, I assure you, is not her desired effect). Whenever something doesn't go as well as I had hoped/expected I am partly mad at the situation and partly mad at myself for assuming something would go exactly as I had hoped. (It should be noted however, that I am extremely fortunate, and am oftentimes pleasantly surprised by how well things turn out, usually even better, than I imagined.) Of course I then feel worse because my loving mother is still sympathetic when she could gloat and say, "I told you so."

Today was one of those days when nothing turned out how I had planned. I had to move babysitting TB up because I had to pick up Boy at the Kinderspitäl (Children's Hospital) and take him back to school. TMoTB said TB was semi-sick so tomorrow might be short, which means I won't be able to take her into Zürich for an afternoon with my friends which was a bummer. After babysitting I was driving into Zürich (something that still puts me on edge) and the Mother called to tell me where they were, and that I couldn't take Boy back to school and she'd explain when I arrived. It was almost instantaneous; my plans to run, shower and maybe even nap that afternoon were out the window and my windows down, car singing-mood was instantly changed. When I got to the hospital (Boy is fine by the way, he just got a sting this summer--explain more later--and he needs this special shirt for the scarring and probably a surgery next year, no big deal or anything) the Mother, who by the way, had to run because she had to catch a flight to Paris for a meeting whilst the Father was in Stockholm and/or Bucharest, told me Boy and I would have to come back in two hours for a follow up appointment.

When I looked at Boy I could see it all over his face: disappointment (he was disappointed that he couldn't go back to school to show his friends the weird shirt--crazy, most kids would be disappointed if they had to go back to school). I realized that this is what I must look like when I'm disappointed, trying not to be upset even though you visibly are and every time he talked to his mom the tears would well up in his eyes (what sort of power do mothers have over us?!). She said we could go to lunch in town if we wanted and for a moment I had a flashback to my preconceived au pair notions. Maybe it was silly of me, but I pictured myself with these two beautiful children, sitting at a café, eating pain au chocolat, sipping espresso (for me of course), them wearing berrets (okay that bit was far fetched, I admit) and us speaking French together. Of course that was, is and never will be the case, but I thought maybe Boy and I could go to one of my favorite lunchtime restaurants and I could fulfill part of the dream. Then the Mother said I could take him to McDonald's and so it was my turn to be disappointed. So there we were, eating McDonald's in the car (because Boy didn't want to sit outside in the sunshine--arg!), just about the total opposite of how I had pictured the lunchtime scene.

After the appointment we had time to run him back to school and as we were walking up we see three kindergarteners and their teacher making a "Go Green" sign in front of the school. Of course one of these tots was Girl who came running up to me to give me a giant hug. As I walked Boy in I heard her say to her teacher, "That's my au pair!!" And when I came out the teacher said, "Ah, Jill. I've heard so much about you this past year!" Mood lifted instantly. (Hey, what can I say, I like being important to people. Even six year old people.)

This afternoon I decided to take my camera out because I realized I do not have a lot of pictures of my kids. So instead of us conversing in French over our favorite Babar book I have videos of them singing along to Ke$ha--the song drives me bonkers but I'll admit there's something a lot more amusing in a six year old singing, "Brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack." (Note: I did NOT let them download this song, they heard it on the bus and The Parents let Boy buy it. I take no responsibility for their poor musical choices, aside from High School Musicals 1-3 and "Lola.")

During dinner however, something unexpected happened. Girl turned to me and said (in French), "If you want, we can speak in French." Holy mother of pearl! She never, and I mean never, wants to speak with me in French. It was amazing. Girl and I sat at the dinner table eating our dessert, cracking jokes, planning out tomorrow (Boy's birthday party) and other things, all in French. She even said, "Tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and all the days we can speak in French." Hallelujah!

The dad came back earlier than expected and said, "You look like you're dressed for a night out in Zürich!" (Nope, just wearing a dress today...) He told me that the Mother won't be back from Paris until 4:30 tomorrow (the Father leaves at noon for India) leaving me to start Boy's birthday party festivities, which then changes what I expected to do tomorrow. Once I was dismissed I planned to go for a run whilst it was still light out (which turned into a walk as the yogurt I just ate didn't bode well with running). I explored my town and found a new trail along this ridge parallel to the lake (I love finding new, beautiful places) and I couldn't help but think how everything today hadn't turned out how I had expected or wanted it to and yet, it was still a really great day.

Funny how I wasn't expecting that.

Maturity

2010-04-28T14:42:00.002+02:00

Sometimes the things Girl says to me make me pause and think, "How old are you again?"

Once, during a tea party, she rested her chin on her hand, turned to me and said, "So, tell me about your last date." Yesterday during dinner she was dishing out salad and said, "There, I think that should be sufficient." Tell me, what six year old says sufficient? I'm 23 and I don't even say sufficient!

And last night when I was putting her to bed she reaches up to give me a hug and we have the following conversation:
Girl: Jill, I love you.
Me: I love you too, G.
Girl: Even when I'm mad at you, I still love you.
Me: Me too, G.

I think the above conversation sufficiently highlights her maturity.

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2010-04-27T17:45:00.004+02:00

Many people would have you believe the Christmas season is "the most wonderful time of the year," but I would absolutely disagree. The most wonderful time of the year has finally arrived, and though it doesn't have a definite name (I wouldn't describe it as spring because spring, for some, is only an idea--trust me, I've spent a couple "springs" in Minnesota and there wasn't anything spring-y about them!) there are two defining characteristics for this time of year:

1. You start to hear the lovely sound of footwear going flip-flop (that will persist all they way until September).

2. (This mostly applies to make-up wearers) You don't have any need to wear bronzer. (Note: Bronzer is what girls wear on their face so as not to appear like Casper.) Both The Mother and my French teacher told me today that I have a lot of color on my make-up less face!

Gill & I in Portugal showing off our bronzer-less faces.

The unfortunate thing about the warmer climate is my location. Unless it is July and nearing 90 degrees the Swiss will be bundled up. They cast judging stares at your bare legs, short sleeves and sometimes, your sunny disposition (just kidding about that last one!). Sure it was in the 70s today but once that elderly lady saw my shorts-clad self she shook her head like I was a lunatic. I was even sweating! Thankfully though, I do not live with a Swiss family and my kids wear shorts and sandals during the appropriate weather. My friend Kristina however, is not so fortunate. I was friends with their previous au pair and she used to tell me stories about that mother chastising her for wearing flip-flops in September when it was still hot out afraid she would catch a cold. Whenever Kristina wants to wear something seasonally appropriate she either has to layer over it, escape when no one is looking or undergo outfit scrutiny and then a lecture about how her bare legs will probably be the cause of her catching pneumonia and then lead to her ultimate demise (well they haven't gone that far yet, but I wouldn't be surprised).

Kristina & I playing in a fountain in Spain--she'd be in big trouble if her employer saw this!

Glad I, at least, have the choice to wear what I like from my [still-organized!] closet. Off to bask in the sun's warm rays in my shorts!

Like Mother, Like Au Pair

2010-04-26T18:25:00.003+02:00

Living with The Mother for nearly 10 months, some of her habits (and language) were bound to rub off on me. I just didn't expect it to be ironing.

I've written before about how I loathe the ironing but today I found myself, yet again, re-organizing my closet (closet is perhaps too generous of a phrase, it is really an armoire). But instead of just dumping my clothes onto the floor, folding them and then putting them back I pulled them all out, ironed every single article of clothing, folded them and then put them away. I couldn't bring myself to look at let alone wear these wrinkled articles. Weird, very weird (for me, not for normal people I realize).

While I've never been particularly good at keeping my clothes neat and tidy I've never been as bad as I've been here. I realized that it's partly storage capacity, partly me and partly time constraints. Often if I want to go out in the evening I had approximately twelve minutes to change and dash to the bus, so I get to my room and rip clothes out of my closet and end up throwing the rejects back in. And I literally mean I throw them into my closet. Perhaps if I put a little more thought into my outfits beforehand I could keep my stuff more organized. I'll let you know how it goes...

Climb Every Mountain

2010-04-25T23:21:00.003+02:00

There's something about hiking that really turns my friends against me. It started in Cinque Terre with Molly and Brittney during our semester abroad. Apparently my "This isn't so bad!"/"Come on it is just a bit further!"/"The faster we do it the faster it's over!"/"We'll never make it with that bad-itude!" sentiments were not shared by two of my best friends. What saved our dying (of dehydration) friendship was an amazing pesto pizza, a large scoop of gelato and a beautiful sunset over the Mediterranean (not to mention the end of the hike). Having a friend visit I thought what better way to test our friendship than to hike!?

Today, at the crack of noon, Kristina, Gabri and I set off for Uetliberg. I hadn't done the hike yet but had heard it wasn't too terrible. I think we accidentally took the more difficult trail, which resulted in a longer more arduous hike. However instead of my typical cheers, I decided to sing "Climb Every Mountain." Well, at least Kristina found it funny! Gabri was close to knocking me out (had she had the energy) but once we finally summited, er made it to the top, the celebratory beer made it at least somewhat more enjoyable. We did, however, take the train home. There's only so much strain one can put on a friendship!

Gabri enjoying the view or plotting my demise?

Gabri and Kristina enjoying the view from the top.

Also, on a totally different note: When I got home tonight there was a THIRD enormous spider on my wall. I swear, this sucker (please don't R.I.P. demon spider) was so large that I could hear it breathing. It is time to move out of the lair, and if you don't believe me I took photographic evidence:

Try to tell me you didn't have an involuntary shudder when you saw this guy...

Unnecessary Roughness

2010-04-24T22:01:00.002+02:00

Although Jack and I used to get into pretty physical fights (for fun and exercise as a child) real violence is something I'm not okay with. I remember watching "America's Funniest Home Videos" with my family as a kid and my mom cringing at the videos where some one was injured while my dad, brother and I laughed. Now I find myself in the same situation. My kids are currently watching Home Alone 2, Lost in New York and I can't help but cringe at the needless violence. I get that it is just supposed to be funny, but still. Boy is howling when the bad guys get hit in the face with bricks and I just feel a little sick. Oh well, needless violence for this kid, is not okay.

A New Perspective

2010-04-24T21:12:00.002+02:00

This weekend one of my friends, the one who lives in Milan, is visiting.

And you are probably wondering, why then, with a friend visiting, I am writing in my blog. Well, my dear readers, it is because I am an au pair.

The Family asked me to babysit (asked/told, the same thing in au pair-land) on Saturday night and I informed them that I had a friend coming so they asked the neighbor who was busy. I guess it is nice that they tried but, when that didn't work my plans were decided for me.

Anyway, having a non au pair friend here its made me realize just how weird au pairing is. It has become second nature to me here but to view it from an outsider's point of view I realized just how odd it is. This, for all intents and purposes, is my home. But like I've written before, a house does not a home make. Asking permission to have a friend over, feeling awkward when you wake up because you don't want to go upstairs to use the bathroom or even shower to avoid seeing them (especially after a night out) things that, if I had an apartment, would be a non-issue. Realizing it again has just highlighted how, despite having lived here since July, this isn't really my home. I've certainly gotten used to it, and even when I return from trips I feel like I am "home," but I am looking forward to the days when I have a place to call my own.

Grrrreat!

2010-04-23T09:59:00.002+02:00

Like I said earlier, I've taught Boy, Girl and T.B. some useful life skills.

I can now add another thing to T.B.'s growing repertoire of activities: I have taught her to growl. No joke, whenever I grrrowl at her she responds in an equally if not more so, demonic, guttural noise. I'm going to try and video tape it because it is really funny.

What can I say, I inspire kids and babies alike to reach for the stars.

What's in a Name?

2010-04-23T09:50:00.003+02:00

Last week I had lunch with my married friend (I pretty much only have the one) who is also pregnant. (Also only a year older than me--it's weird that we can be so close in age, and enjoy one another's company whilst being in two completely different life phases.) After lunch we went to the English bookstore so I could get T.B.'s Baptism gift. We sat down and started looking up baby names and their meanings (she's looking at pretty names like Ava while I suggested the funny like Gert, Mavis and Myrtle). Naturally I looked up my family's name (apparently it is a Swedish boys' name) and it means "outdoorsy," which is very fitting for my parents. Though my parents hadn't really planned on naming me Jill people always tell me that Jill fits me. I had a lacrosse coach who told me, "You even look like a Jill. You couldn't have any other name." Apparently Jill means "energetic & youthful" so I guess that's a pretty accurate description.

Some of the other names ranged from pretty to borderline crazy. I think the worst we saw was "Crispy." I kid you not, the name "Crispy" was there. Under the origin it said "invented"--if anyone has named their child Crispy, please, please let me know.

It's a Small World After All

2010-04-20T21:41:00.005+02:00

Saturday was a really great day and here's why:

I woke up, ran, showered (a big feat for a Saturday morning), dressed like a human and had two French women tell me I looked chic and went to TB's baptism. When we arrived at the church I realized what a small party it was and I felt really flattered to have been invited. I suppose I do spend the most time with TB outside of her immediate family on a regular basis, but it was still a thoughtful gesture. I walked in the TFoTB greeted me with a hug and the three-kiss Swiss greeting (which was awkward seeing as how we don't touch regularly and I assumed with most of the non-American guests being of French origin that it would be two kisses, resulting in an awkward head-dodging third). Despite the initial awkwardness the ceremony was really nice in German, French and English. I said my "wish" for TB (and was later told that it was everyone's favorite--booyah!) and the brevity of the service added to the pleasant factor. Halfway through The Mother leans over and whispers "I think the priest is wearing a toupée." Thankfully TMoTB had already pre-warned me of the bad hair stylings so I had been carefully studying it throughout the proceedings.

After the ceremony we all went back to the house of TB and had a luncheon/party. Bottles of Veuve Cliquot were flowing (mostly into my glass becuase as TFoTB said, "You're not working today! You're here to enjoy yourself!") and the Lebanese food was delicious. The God-parents of TB had flown in from Washington, D.C. and had brought their college-aged daughter who was studying abroad in Paris for the semester. Long story short: the daughter went to a rival high school of mine in D.C., her father went to the same law school as my dad, I found out that TFoTB went to the same graduate school as my mom AND that they God-father's best friend and his wife are both professors at Denison. That's a small world.

After the party I came home to chat with the new au pair via Skype--she was really great and easy to talk to (there is some visa drama at the moment, I'll keep you posted) so I hope she is able to come! The Mother said it was really cute how TB kept trying to come to me and wanting me to play with her. Both Girl and TB seemed to be fighting for my attention (if only cute, available men did the same).

I changed from my chic clothes (just had to add that again for emphasis) and headed into Zürich where a bunch of au pairs were having a cookout. If there is a more winning combination than sunshine, beer and hot dogs I don't even want to know about it. A beautiful evening on the lake with a lot of fun people. At one point, during a soccer game, I saw a boy on the opposition wearing a Moosejaw sweatshirt. Now my friend Jess (miss you!) had one in every color of the rainbow in college so I knew this kid had to be from Michigan. I asked during our halftime break and he said he was from there and when I said I was from Minnesota he informed me that he had lived on Grand Avenue (maybe one of my favorite streets in Minnesota, and not just for the J.Crew) for six years and his wife was a Minnesota native.

I later met his adorable wife and we start chatting about Minnesota. She suddenly looks at me and says, "Wait, do you have a blog?" I affirm this and she asks where I went to school and when I reply Denison she said she had read my blog! A stranger! (I was definitely smiling to my ears because I felt pretty big-headed at that point.) She mentioned that she had read my posts (even the one about what was in my Longchamp--I think that is the one people remember most) but hadn't seen it in a while. Not only was she pretty, funny and smart but clearly she has excellent taste in blogs (kidding-ish). We had fun chatting all the way from the picnic to the bar about places in Minnesota and life in Switzerland. She said, "I had a feeling I would meet you."

Small world, even smaller country.