Traveling With Baby

Yes, when I say ‘baby’ here, I mean Ciela. Anyone who is not a dog person, has never raised a puppy and therefore doesn’t think a puppy is like a baby must stand kindly corrected. Because I have never felt more like a mother than in the past 2 weeks since I’ve become one. Won’t eat when you want her to? Check. Won’t go potty when it’s convenient for you? Check. Fusses when you try to give her her antibiotics or brush her teeth or clean under her eyes or or or? Check. Oh, yeah. Bites (not gently) bc she is teething/playing/doesn’t know any better? Check. Incessant barking and high-pitched yelping at the most inopportune times, like when you want to go to sleep? Cheeeck! And since we’re on the subject of sleep, let’s not forget the fact that I haven’t had a solid good night’s of it since I got her. A 6 hour block that I would previously shake my head at in distaste now seems like a faraway dream, a fantasy never to be fulfilled, something I dare not bother longing for bc I can't imagine the day Ciela will let me sleep the whole night thru.

Can I just say I have a newfound respect for new mothers?? I never knew it was this hard. A million props to you and a million kudos, and I hope they build monuments in your honor! And single moms (or dads) – you deserve all that x2.

Now, back to this traveling w baby. The plan is to go to Philly to visit my friend R n help her decorate her new apartment. I love stuff like that! So, I book my ticket, not even thinking to check what the bus company’s pet policy is. Most modes of transport (planes, NYC trains and buses, etc) have no problem w small dogs as long as they are in a carrier. Ciela is small. Ciela has two carriers. We are so good to go.

I pack her up and leave the house, stopping by the drug store before hopping on the train. She is barking and hyper, and strangers must think her carrier is possessed, it's jumping around so much. I grab her a new toy off the shelf, pop it in her bag to keep her busy, and head to the counter to finish my business. Her interest in the toy (read: quiet) lasts for 2 minutes, tops. While I’m standing at the register I hear “Miss, Miss!” I turn around. “You’re not allowed to have dogs in here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” I lie. “I’m done, I’m leaving.”

For the millionth time, I wonder why I can’t have a dog that is quiet, or at least one that I know how to control.

We leave the store and I hear nothing but the regular sounds of a Harlem street. Sweet. I am still holding out hope that the new toy and the sweet potato treat I gave her will keep her quiet for the next 2-3 hours, but that hope is shattered as I walk to the train station and the high-pitched barking resumes. Now I'm getting worried. I call the bus company to inquire about their pet policy.

“There are no pets allowed on board.”

“But she’s small. She’s in a carrier.”

“Unfortunately, ma'am, there are no pets allowed on board”

Bastards. I stand on the corner, I debate. Cancel the trip? Take my chances? I finally figure by the time the bus leaves in over an hour she will have run herself ragged and will sleep the ride thru. I get on the train n decide if worse comes to worst, I might have to play dumb on this one. No biggie. What are they gonna do, throw me out on the side of the highway?

Usually I have no trouble out of her on the train. Today however, she has decided not only to not calm down, but to turn up the craziness to the highest level she can. I'm getting worried again. I don't want to be the annoying lady w the dog on the bus, plus now I know she's not supposed to be on there in the first place. God, I wish I just hadn't called; maybe playing dumb is easier when you really don't know, duh. I call the vet and ask if I can give her Benadryl to help her sleep; I feel bad, but I know it won’t hurt her. The vet quickly vetoes that idea w a “Nope, she’s too small.” Damn. It. Dammittohell.

I'm standing on 34th, leaning against a building, wistfully looking at this big, orange bus parked across the street. I stand there for minutes, too afraid to even get near it, to even venture to the other side, as if I have to cross No Man's Land, when all I really have to do is walk across a few lanes of traffic. What is wrong w me, I have done plenty of things against the rules before, when exactly did I become chicken-you-know-what? I think it was 20 minutes ago on the train when it was packed w people n she wouldn't quit yelping, n I became That Lady n I felt so embarrassed. Yup, I think that is when.

I call the bus company again, maybe the first guy I spoke to was wrong, sometimes they are.

"Hi, I wanted to know if I can travel on your bus w a small dog in a carrier?"

"No, pets are not allowed on board."

"Really? Well, do you have an affiliate company that does allow pets?"

"No, ma'am, we do not."

"Really, hmmm... Well, can you refund my already-purchased tickets?"

"No, ma'am, tickets are non-refundable."

"Well that's shitty."

I think I mumble a Thank You just to be kind of polite, n hang up. I figure "screw it" n boldly cross the street and even more boldly, I stand in line. I get all the way to the ticket agent and am told this is the bus to Boston. Great. I step out of that line and into another. The little barker has finally fallen asleep. If she can keep that up for 2 more hours, I'm set. But Ciela's not reliable like that, at least not yet. While maintaining my position in line, I google and call the Chinatown bus; no dogs allowed. Some other company I can't think of the name of anymore; seeing eye dogs only (gee, that's very kind of you). NJ Transit; OK as long as they're in a carrier. Woohoo! What, you only go to Trenton n then I have to transfer trains to Philly? Fine, let me just make sure.... SEPTA; also OK as long as they're in a carrier. Hallelujah! I walk away from the line, Ciela still sleeping, wondering if I made the right decision, especially since my unemployed self just flushed $23 down the toilet for a round-trip ticket I will never use, and bc the train tickets are considerably more expensive than the bus tickets. Sigh. Sanity over $23 any day, I console myself. Still, I wonder if she would have slept the whole ride thru.

I round the corner and no sooner have I walked half a block than the little girl wakes up and decides to announce it to the whole wide world, oh so very loudly. I guess I made the right decision after all.

Perfect Moment Monday: Moments

Perfect Moment Monday is sponsored by Weebles Wobblog and is described as "...noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between." I think it's a great way to make us all more mindful of the good things that happen to us. There's always at least one perfect moment...!

Sometimes the week passes and it's so stressful and crazy, you fall into a "Woe is me, I didn't have any perfect moments to write about" mindset. But I'm sitting here thinking about this past week, and I find it hard to believe that I really can't think of one thing I would count as perfect. Well, let me take that back. It's not that I can't think of any perfect moments, it's just that none of them happened w a resounding "Aha! This is a perfect moment!" thought accompanying them. Plus I can't narrow it down to one thing that was so great it deserves the spotlight of this post. Then I realized, maybe it doesn't have to make such a huge impact, and maybe it doesn't have to be just one moment. Maybe part of the point is that, it can just be a pretty regular week, and PMM makes you look back on it and realize that a lot of it was great after all.

I'm back home in NYC, that's perfect, bc I had a rough couple weeks of traveling.

I have survived Week 1 of motherhood, that's definitely perfect, especially bc Ciela has been sick and I've been terrified I would go to check on her one day and she wouldn't be breathing. I guess losing my first puppy Kingsley earier this year is an issue I haven't quite dealt with yet. I now know that I am capable of nursing a living thing back to health, and that is Beyond Perfect.

I still have a savings account that I can go to in times of need, which has been too often since I've been back in NY, but that's Perfect and a Blessing w a capital B, bc I'd be so lost w/o my cushion.

I met up w my high school English teacher, his lovely wife (who also happens to be one of my favorite bloggers and most inspiring people I know) and their adorable, sweetheart children; funny how 12 years ago feels just like yesterday, bc I swear it was just yesterday that I was sitting in class in Aleppo with all my high school friends. Aah, the good old days! That was perfect bc, hello, it's been twelve years and it reminded me what an awesome school I went to and what wonderful people I met there that - how can I put this bluntly - 12 years after parting paths, we would all actually give a shit about catching up and keeping in contact! Guaranteed you wouldn't find that anywhere else.

I'm slowly gaining more insight into what direction I want to take my new career, post-fashion, and that's a relief bc it's been a slow and painful road to figuring that one out. What's perfect about that, besides me having some more clarity, is that I got said clarity by reading an email from the director of an organization I volunteered w 3 years ago, about their new volunteer program. One of the sentences literally jumped out at me and that was an Aha! moment. Knowing when things in your life come full circle, that's the most perfectest.

Last but not least, I was told today by someone I met several years ago here in NY just how much I've grown as a person. I mean, she gave me examples and I knew she was right bc I trust her and furthermore, I could see it myself! And that is more perfect than anything I can describe bc #1) I've grown so much as a person, and #2) I know all the years of hard work I put into bettering myself were not for nothing.

So here's to a week that, even w all its stress and worry and sleeplessness and fatigue, had more Perfect Moments than I ever thought I would be able to recognize. And recognizing that, is perfect.

Airport Etiquette

If I added up all the time I spent in airports, airplanes, terminals, gates, security lines, airport magazine stands and coffee shops, I would surely be a time millionaire. That said, this is a lifestyle I choose, so I can only complain but so much. However, is it too much to ask that the ticket agents come to work with a half smile on their faces and some pep in their goddamn step? I'm not even asking for a whole smile. Listen, I know working in customer service can suck at times. I have worked retail, I have waitressed and I have bartended. I'm sure in all those years, somewhere in there, I have had a bad day or ten, but I bet you I was never a witch to any of my customers bc of it. If I can suck it up, so can you, and if you can't I'm gonna need you to get a new job. Until that happens, I'm gonna need every airport employee who woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or got in an argument with their significant other/teenage kid/mother-in-law/neighbor/dog/car/coffee maker, or just found out every person they ever said hello to is an incompetent ass, to get it together and put a half smile on their face and do their job, politely and efficiently. Please don't make me stand in line for 30 minutes, only to get to the front and hear you say "Oh, this is not the line for Detroit" and then point to the other line that just so happens to be about 40 feet long, bc trust, I will not be going to stand in it. Especially if the lines were not labeled in the first place, bc guess who wasn't doing their job?

On the flip side, airport personnel aren't the only ones holding things up. Is it too much to ask that everyone in the security line, who I'm sure has done this at least once before, do what they need to do quickly and efficiently, without making the security agent repeat him- or herself 57 times? How hard is it to take your shoes and jackets off, put them in a tray (or is it put the jacket in a tray but the shoes on the belt bc now, the new thing is that the shoes don't require a tray, but the jacket still does), take out your laptop without dropping it (which I've done) and put that in a tray, pile all your other crap on the belt, walk through the metal detector which beeps for all kinds of stuff but not the metal in your bra, so kudos to whichever genius thought of that. And by the way, I've gotten through security with a Swiss Army knife (it's my key chain) and more than 3oz of hair products on more than one occasion; does that make me a criminal? Maybe the security agent can tell me as soon as he/she is done droning on in a monotone about what goes in a tray, what goes on the belt, and how he/she won the argument with the coffee maker earlier this morning.

Last but not least, airplane passengers, can you please, for the love of everything and everyone up in heaven, but more importantly, for me and everyone else on the plane, can you please, please brush your teeth and wash your feet. On the first leg of my red-eye last night, the man next to me smelled like dirty bathroom and dirty dog. At the same time. My nostrils were so shocked they didn't know what the hell to do. They tried to run away but they really had nowhere to go. Every time he opened his mouth, all I could think was "Oh, my God, his breath smells like dog breath. Dog breath! Baaad dog breath. Good God, close your mouth!" Sleep finally took over, and hours later, on the 2nd leg of my flight, I was delighted to be treated to the smell of dirty feet. "OK," I thought, "this is just ridiculous. Is good hygiene just too much to ask for?"

Oh, and I did ask the steward to figure out who it was and kindly ask them to put there shoes back on, since my whole row was on the verge of throwing up. He smiled apologetically, then laughed nervously and said he couldn't do that. Sigh. Really? This is not where I was looking for the service with a smile to begin.

Preparacion para Espana (Preparations for Spain)

So, remember how in my first post I said I was gonna take some time off and travel, and Id write all about it here? Well, the time has finally come! My room mate and I have decided to embark on a 3 month trip with the first stop being Madrid, Spain. We just recently locked down our tickets. We have a hostel booked for the first 2 nights. We know we will be there together (and thank God for that, bc Im really tired of traveling solo). And beyond that, we know pretty much nothing. This will the the epitome of "Playing It By Ear"... and Im excited!

Im also exhausted. Its 5:15 a.m. and we are leaving in t- 4 days. I have been cleaning, purging, throwing away, giving away, organizing, packing, buying, running around & going crazy for almost 2 weeks now. The more things I cross off my to-do list, the longer it gets. I have no idea how this is possible; besides the fact that I keep adding things to the list, which is besides the point, Im sure. Ive had trouble sleeping lately (stress-related insomnia, not excitement-related insomnia) and so today I decided that, if I dont sleep at all, then waking up early to cross more things off my list wont be a problem. I have about 3 more hours to go before Ill actually be able to go out and run any errands. This may be the City that never sleeps, but at some point, the merchants and vendors who run it do have to catch some zzz's.

At least Im not waiting until a few hours before my flight leaves to pack, which is what I normally do. I must say, Im quite proud of myself this time; I am pleasantly surprised at my organization and lack of procrastination (something Im well-known for and always beat myself up about). But still, the task seems never-ending and very daunting.

Did I mention the list just keeps getting longer??

*sigh* its only 5:31 and Im fading fast. Im pretty sure Im not gonna make it til 8. Clearly it didnt take long to scrap that idea; I havent been able to have a successful "nuit blanche" in a long time, what the hell was I thinking? Im too old for that shit and all the physical distress that comes with it the next day. So, off I go to bed. 10 Euros says Im gonna dream of my To-Do List and how many items I still have to cross off...

Day 1

I have a migraine.  It's past midnight and I'd REALLY like nothing better than to get up and pee (I have this unbelievable laziness when it comes to peeing; I dont know when it started but I wish it would stop just as quickly as it began bc its really annoying) and then fall peacefully into slumber, wake up on time, get to work on time, and have a wonderful day at the place where I feel like I spend the better part of my life.  Work.  Which I sometimes call My Hell-Hole of a Job.  But I digress.   

Did I mention I have a migraine?  And its hard to type on your side w/ one hand, so pls excuse the typos.  But here goes.  I keep writing blog posts in my head as I walk down the street, so I figured I should really get this crackin' already, bc Im starting to think Im crazy, and Im tired of  putting it off.  Initially I was gonna wait until I quit my job, and my blog was one of many things that was going to fill my days... I envisioned myself sitting at the neighborhood Starbucks and just blog-blog-blogging my year away.  I would tell you guys about all my adventures.  My travels on a ridiculously small budget.  My failed attempts at living on a budget at all (haha, this is not gonna be so funny when Im out of a job and only have 2.53 dollars to spend and I curse the day I decided taking a year off and living off my savings was a good idea).  And so on and so forth.  I would grow and learn and become a better person and I would love every minute of my year off, and emerge on the other side with a new career and a new zeal for life and, and, and...

But it looks like this whole 'not working' thing is gonna take longer than planned.  Ill spare you the boring details and instead start sharing the story  :)