Sunday, August 10, 2014

Gene Kelly, Parkland Hospital, & Why Being Annie Braddock Makes Me Happy...

Wow. It's officially Sunday. Jesus. I haven't blogged in seven days. New record there, folks. And I don't even know where to begin. This past week has been an insane whirlwind. A glorious one, though. I started work as a jackie-of-all-trades for a fabulous Dallas family on Monday, and it's been a freaking blast. I could write a book on the crazy fun I've had and why I'm already loyal and in love with my two bosses, and their kick ass daughter, who will be on Broadway one day. Mark my words now.
Little X is a funny, well-mannered 7-year-old possessing Mensa-level intelligence, and creative talent that most adult artists envy. (Remember, I'm going to reference the Nanny Diaries when on this subject for sake of their privacy, duh.) She knows that soda is bad for you, enjoys classic films/musicals and/or anything MGM Studios, loves Nutella, and horses, and thinks that Gene Kelly is a "yummy ham" in Singin' in the Rain. I mean, girl after my own heart, right? She's also a walking Evernote app because Little X doesn't forget the slightest detail. We hit up the Target frequently, (I pronounce it 'Tar-Zhay' because Little X knows some French, but appreciates my awful American humor.) and if I ramble off ten things we need to get or do in the AM, six hours later, homegirl remembers and recites every last word. It's remarkable. She also gave me a colorful BFF necklace, similar to those you craft at summer camp, ya know, and I wore it proudly today while she, Mrs. X and I ran errands all over the big D, plagued by sweaty, tax-free weekend crowds.

Speaking of errands, you guys, on Tuesday I felt like an actual mom when we went to Parker's for Little X's uniforms, and to try on the Keds. In classic, oxford, schoolgirl style, of course. The place was packed with tenacious Junior League-ers ready to scratch the eyeball out of anyone who may snag a last bow or, God forbid, cut the line. Not gonna lie, my inner, animalistic Regina George was on guard, because we were determined to leave that joint with everything crossed off the list. The whole experience honestly reminded me of my private school days before we moved to bumblef*ck nowhere East Texas, so I enjoyed it.

And not only have I lunched and brunched at several North Dallas establishments I've been wanting to try/Yelp up, I've also become a certified regular at the Starbucks off Inwood and Lovers. Jeff and David know that I need two, non-fat, venti, iced lattes, with one raw sugar only, the moment I walk in. (One for me, and one for Mrs. X, albeit me usually making mine a quadro, I'll admit.) And Mrs. X now gives me cash so I can use my Sbux plastic and reach gold card status, because she already has the gold. I mean how nice, right? I'm only six stars away, so considering I've accumulated about eleven stars since Monday, I think I'm on the road to success, y'all. #EmbarrassingFirstWorldJoys

Mrs. X also had a major hip surgery literally nine days ago and was back at work like three days later. Basically, she's just a beast of a human. Seriously. She would win the gold medal if walking on crutches was an Olympic sport. As a badass Parkland doctor who receives upwards of fifty emails/texts every thirty minutes or so, in between saving lives and being a damn good mother, she somehow manages to juggle a thousand other never-ending tasks required of her. I've picked her up a few times at the actual Parkland ER entrance (she can't drive with the hip for now), and as a huge JFK buff, I was in poli sci major heaven. On the way to her office I walked in awe when passing the labs where legitimate world-changing sh*t goes down. I mean, really, you guys, it was super cool. Felt like a field trip. As for Mr. X? He's also an extremely dedicated MD, equally deserving of major praise in being a super nice and hard-working human, despite an insane/exhausting schedule.

And the thing is, I've always been a fan of "non-traditional" jobs, and being a jackie-of-all-trades. Especially when my superiors are people with superhero powers who I admire and greatly respect, and that more importantly, respect me. This Annie Braddock enjoys being given a laundry list that changes daily of projects needing to be done. Organizing, prioritizing, and having deadlines (in an environment where lululemon pants and comfy V-necks are the uniform) is to Mallory, what lifelong dedication in public service is to Leslie Knopes. Did that make sense? Hope so. Making appointments/phone calls/errands, finding quick solutions in the chaotic day to day, and ensuring that a Little X is as happy and safe as possible fulfills me. (I mean, we all know I can't wait to be a soccer mom in twenty years.)

Can I manage my own 20-something life efficiently? Eh, I'll let the gif below answer that. I'll be a work-in-progress 'til I'm in the grave. But I take pride in finally refusing the boring and routine 9-to-5 lifestyle. Although it was chockfull of life lessons, it was historically just Xanax-inducing. And suppressing of my quirky-but-good qualities and Type-A tendencies. All capable of generating major creativity and productivity when allowed.

So in conclusion, you all know I'd love to keep rambling about how that aside from "work" this past week, I also did the following: Secured an abode, had an awesome Ewing show at the DCH, rekindled some old friendships, joined a filmmaking team, AND became an official volunteer of a few artsy fartsy non-profits here in the D. But I'll spare your eyes probably needing bifocals now and save it for next time. PS- Go 'like' my Youth Group troupe's Facebook page here. C'mon. Please?

*Gifs courtesy of