Numerous times throughout years I've been reminded how insane my life has been thus far and how I should really find the time to sit down and write about it. Many of these people- my mother included- are still fascinated at the details each time we recount my experiences. Quite often, so am I.
All in all, I guess you could call me a tumbleweed. Since I graduated highschool, I was never in one place for too long. Not once did I EVER expect the adventures my life had in store for me. All I knew back then was that I was different. Very different. I wasn't like the rest of my peers who had a post-highschool plan of attending community college to become a dental assistant or an RN. Dont get me wrong, those are wonderful careers, just NOT for me. I shivered at the thought of being expected to have a mapped out plan like everyone else. You know, the typical highschool grads... embracing the conservative utah lifestyle and never making out of community college before getting married and living happily ever after in same town we grew up in. The same cookiecutter suburbs of salt lake city, never once getting to see the world and what it has to offer.
That, ladies and gentleman, was my biggest fear.
I'm forgetting a small factor that you must know about me before we continue. A factor that I blame for the majority of mi vida loca - but nevertheless- a factor that I also wish to THANK. For without it, I would have probably allowed myself to settle.
What is this factor, you ask?
Heartbreak.
Heartbreak in the life of this Lopez really meant earthquake.
No, I don't mean that in a crazy psycho way, nor do I freak out on a guy after a heartbreak. We Lopez's are a proud people. We keep our cool. We deserve better anyway. They'll be sorry, right? Its the Lopez mentality... and while effortlessly keeping this cool, calm front while in reality, the tropical storm that are my emotions are in turmoil building up a torturous rage until coming to the conclusion that I must get away. Far away...out of the city, out of the state. Anywhere but here. That was the only thought that consoled my mind and still to this day seems to be the solution I live by. Earthquake meant that everything shifted....location, mindset, life. Todo.
During my final year of highschool, this boy broke my heart. Classic case. So what did I do?
You guessed it.
Within one month, I chose a distant college, applied, was accepted, and was prepared to attend within weeks. Location: Las Vegas.
Middle finger up to the "normal" life but most of all, middle finger up to that sucka!
I admire my younger self. I wasn't afraid at all.
18 years old and moving to Vegas alone, not knowing a single soul. Didnt think twice. I was too determined to be afraid. I wanted more out of life, I guess.This is where the fun began. With only two weeks before classes would start, I was jobless and had no place to live. School wasnt gonna pay for itself.
How was this going to work?
Does a student loan pay for my rent too?
Ha. If only it was that easy. Mom & I took a quick Vegas roadtrip to attend school orientation. During our 6 hour roadtrip, she received a phone call from a colleage suggesting I contact a top notch Nanny agency in Vegas and set up an interview. The industry paid well and I would be placed with a great family. After all, her mother was Wayne Newton's nanny.
UMM..thats real nice and all, but... hello? A nanny??!! DO I EVEN LIKE KIDS?!! I dont think I even WANT KIDS! I was the oldest daughter in a mexican family...we practically raise our own brothers and sisters! NO! NO! NOOOOOO....NO.
- - Waaaaaait, WHAT ? They make hooooooow much?
Oh.
I like kids.
I LOVE KIDS.
WHATS THE ADDRESS?!
It wasn't long before I was in the snazzy office of this fabulous agency explaining on a clipboard the various sides of my personality, how I handle stress and anger, and my favorite, Do I believe in reprimanding children (wtf?) When inside, all I was thinking was Do I know what Im doing?
After what seemed like an entire afternoon of interviews, I was finally introduced to the owner of the agency who would be interviewing me next. I was sure I was about to blow it but for some reason, she absolutely loved me. I was nervous as shit, palms sweating, trying to hide the stamp on my forehead that read " I don't really have professional nanny experience, I'm just a young, desperate hardworking latina trying to follow her dreams who helped raise her little brother and sister and thats my nanny experience so take it or leave it"
My impending thoughts began making the room spin and just then, the woman stopped mid-sentence, gazed at me, smiled and said "This is it. You are EXACTLY what I've been waiting for. I have the PERFECT family for you."
She went on to tell me how wonderful this family was. They were of her best & wealthiest clients. A prestigious family, who owned various companies, clubs and restaurants in the city and although they had already interviewed about 20 girls already and have yet to like a single one (room spinning) but that she was ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that they would adore me. Trying not to sink in my chair from the information overload, I watched her dial the woman's cell. Within seconds, she handed me the phone. As blood surged to my head, I felt myself slowly dying as I watched her mouth the words "She would like to speak to you."
F*ck.
Nauseous and trying not to vomit, I took the phone. Within seconds I was pleasantly surprised at how friendly the woman sounded on the other end of the line. Immediately, I felt at ease. She was impressed by how strongly the owner of the agency felt about me and said she just had to meet me.
"I know you haven't permanently moved to Las Vegas quite yet, so when can I fly you over for an interview?"
Oooh.... major flex.
Mom and I drove back to SLC that night. We had just endured a long 48 hour roadtrip, but things began to feel promising. A few days later after putting in my 2 weeks notice, I hopped on a plane to meet the family.
Go time.
As soon as I touched down, I got a phone call from a number I didnt recognize. A thick, chicago-accent greeted me on the other end of the line. The family's house manager/chef, Alli. "Im here to pick you up!" She made me feel completely at ease and she swore like a sailor in her car, so it was then I knew that we'd get along just fine! We stopped to pick up some burgers that I just had to try until alas, we made our way to the house. We slowly pulled into a private street, Alli pulled out a clicker to activate the enormous entry gate ahead. It was that mind-boggling moment when everything goes quiet. We pulled in and around the bend we approach the most beautiful, enchanting, spanish-style mansion. "Were here!" she said, casually. Is this real life? I wished sooo badly for my friends and family to see what I was seeing. It felt like the set from one of my grandma's favorite novelas.
"The Rogers live in the estate next door to the right... you'll meet them," she said. "The Larsons live on the left, we don't see them much... they don't have kids... aaaaand the house adjacent to ours in the back is Michael's estate." Should I be memorizing this, I wondered-----wait, what? "Who's Michael?" I asked, taking off my seatbelt.
"Jackson." she said.
Mother of God.
Walking up to the front door, fingers trembling, I STILL could not believe my reality. Michael!?!? This mansion??! I felt my mouth get anxiously dry. I needed time to process all of this. "Nice, huh? This place belonged to Andre Agassi & Brooke Shields when they were married years ago." Who's Andre Agassi- I remember thinking. I was sooo clueless. All I knew was that this place was a fucking castle-- but nonsense, I had to focus. I had to whisk these people away with my charm. Its go time.
Walking into the house was like a scene from a movie. Alli led me into the kitchen and there she was. Sitting perfectly as ever at her dining room table, book in hand. She was the brunette version of Sarah Jessica Parker. My palms grew sweaty. Glancing away from her book, her face lit up and she greeted me with gusto. She warmly invited me to sit and we proceeded to chat about my plane ride, my life, school, my ambitions, my dreams, our shared love for fashion. She was so interested in my passions I was beginning to wonder when she was going to begin asking me about my babysitting credentials. She was incredibly bright and I died a little inside once I caught a glimpse of her Alaia platform wedge heels. Oh my god. I wanted to be her! For sake of protecting identity, lets just call her Mrs. F. She went on to describe both of her daughters, their personalities, interests, routines, etc. She mentioned that they were outside playing with the kids next door, if I wanted to go out and meet them while she runs to pick up dinner with her husband (while they leave to discuss whether or not they like me). "Sure!" I said, showing myself out to the back --After all, its not like I have anywhere to be, my flight back to Utah wasn't until the next day anyway.
I walked outside to the back of the estate- which had connecting gates to their neighbors house, naturally. Ages 4 and 6. . . The girls were not at all what I expected. I envisioned a typical pair of spoiled brats who probably demand things and refuse to listen to their nannies. After all, they had gone through quite a few, I felt as if I might not be taken seriously. I couldn't have been more wrong. The older daughter, Anna, was a polite, gentle soul. Wisdom beyond her years. A true sweetheart with curly brown hair, who greeted me like she had definitely done this a few times and cordially walked away with a "here we go again" feel. I felt for them. This process couldn't be easy. The younger of the two, Elle, melted every corner of my heart the second I saw her. Long, touseled blonde hair, a smile that would light up the darkest room and the biggest blue eyes you have ever seen. She wouldn't greet me right away and was very hard to win over if I'm honest. She wasn't bratty, just confused. Mrs. F had mentioned she had an emotional attachment to previous nannies and was going to be a bit defensive at first. She was right. What seemed like an eternity later, Mr. and Mrs. F came back. We had dinner in their formal dining room and while the housekeeper cleared our plates, they offered me the job.
Somebody pinch me. Is this real life?
Could this really be happening?? Not only was I going to make more money that I ever imagined, but I would be moving into this palace as their live-in nanny, full board, with my own wing of the house, an enormous walk in closet (bless their souls), my personal desk and Mac computer set up (college, again bless their hearts) and my own safety approved Lexus SUV to roll around town in. New city, who dis???
Does life get any better?
The next morning I flew home with butterflies in my stomach and loads of great news. Within 2 weeks, I had moved and settled into my new home. I had won over both of my girls and I was ready to start fashion school and my new life.
Tomorrow was monday morning. My first day of school & my first official day of work. I had learned the routes, I was feeling prepared. As prepared as I was, nothing could have prepared me for the sudden sideswipe a California blonde would give to my car on that blissful morning. Straight woke me up from my oh-so-perfect week. Yes, I missed the first day of school- a day I had long anticipated- due to some teenage bitch on her cellphone. My car was declared a total loss. I was a mess. Not from injuries, I was fine. I walked away without a scratch. It was the painful realization that I suddenly had no one to call for help. I sat on the side of the road, staring at what was then my most prized possession which now looked like a crumbled piece of aluminum foil. My mom was the only person I wanted to talk to but I knew it wasnt worth worrying her. I couldnt call her, I needed to handle it. First real grown up moment of my life. I cried myself to sleep that night (ok that week- lets be real- Celine Dion playlist was my witness lmao) but I grew thicker skin from that experience. I quickly flew home, bought a new car, slapped Utah plates on that shit, and drove back to vegas to begin my new life--- again.
My typical day went like this: Up by 5am, shower, dress. Wake the girls up at 7am. Lay out their uniforms, make them breakfast, have them buckled in Mrs. F's car by 7:30 sharp- packed, prepped and ready for Mrs. F to sashay into the driver's seat and drive them off to school. At which point, I would then jump into my car and make my commute to school. We had a system. It worked. The daily starbucks run that Mrs. F would make while I was dressing the girls got me through that entire winter. Bless that woman. To this day, I still feel like that eager 18 year old each time I take that first sip of my skinny Vanilla latte's.
My classes ended by 3pm and the girls would be home from school by 4. That gave me one hour of downtime to drive home and unwind- before embarking on their daily/weekly activities (ballet, art, gymnastics, ice skating). A different activity every night. We'd be home by 6pm -- just in time for a 5 star dinner thanks to Alli, followed by an hour of intensive elementary homework, baths, and a bedtime of 7:30 pm. When I found myself telling bedtime stories, I knew my day was almost over. The sense of relief was incredible. My days weren't hard, just HECTIC. I was majoring in Fashion design, attending college FULL time, while working 50+ hours each week. I felt invincible.
Two months later, one of my design projects at school attracted a lot of attention. I was then hand-selected to design the red carpet ensemble for Monica Jackson, a FOX news anchor in Las Vegas who would be hosting the Billboard Music Awards red carpet pre-show 3 days later. I had NEVER gone 3 days straight with ZERO sleep, until that week.
As soon as I would put the girls to sleep (where the HELL was the nyquil when I needed it??- Mexican joke) I would run to my room, finish up my homework and work on my design. I cannot explain how MISERABLE it felt to STILL be sewing on those fucking sequins at 5 AM, when I heard my alarm clock ring. SHIT, It was the next morning already. Andale. Time to get the fuck going. Three straight nights of that shit, CAFFEINE, and a lot of heart, and I had finally finished! Turning that outfit over to Monica and seeing her face light up with excitement was the most amazing feeling in the world. To see someone walk around in something that I had CREATED with my bare hands......I had completely forgotten about how exhausted I was & I knew this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. CREATE. She would be interviewing the artists on the red carpet and would be broadcasting her designer's name to everyone. Surreal. I attended the spectacular event and somehow my underage ass managed to sneak into Pharrell's VIP afterparty at TAO nightclub later that night. Believe me, I took plenty of "myspace pics" so people back home would believe me. (Yes, sadly I said my space.)
I had shimmied with Nick Cannon, on my other side was Mario, and next to him was Kanye West. I brushed against Gwen Stefani, shook hands with Slim thug, posed with DemFranchize & Too Short, and chatted with Mike Tyson. I drank what I believe to be the FINEST Cognac known to man because Pharrell offered and poured it for me HIMSELF! Pardon me, but as a 18 year- old latina from Midvale, Utah…I was living a dream.
Two very short hours later..... beep beep. My alarm rang. I could literally hear it say, " Its 5 am again, bitch. Get your drunk ass outta bed. Its Wednesday!" ughhhh….. back to our regularly scheduled program.
*
I loved when the family would travel because I would go with them, ofcourse. Well, it was usually just Mrs. F, the girls and I. Mr. F was always working. We were preparing to fly to San Francisco for a friends birthday party. It wasn't until our arrival when I realized that this "friend" who was celebrating this extravagant birthday was turning 6 YEARS OLD.
Really?
NO, really???
What ever happened to Ice Cream and cake? Oh, silly me. This birthday party had to cost AT LEAST $30k. Real Housewives of Beverly Hills type shit. I remember it was a CandyLand affair set in a large Cottage right at the end of the Golden Gate Bridge. I remember a long table with place settings for all 30 of the pint-sized guests, colorful chandeliers twinkled from above, complimenting the incredible candy sculptures lined across the table. The birthday cake was made by the "same Chef who made JLo's wedding cake" everyone kept whispering. This was back when she married Cris Judd, because I would know those stupid details..and yeah, okay moving on. Oh and do NOT get me started on the party bags. Shit looked like Christmas! Over the top, indeed...but glamorously exquisite, nevertheless. I was baffled. San Fran was beautiful too. I kept finding myself examining all of the homes as we drove by, secretly searching for the "Full House" home I grew up watching on TV. What a nerd. What would've made me an EVEN bigger nerd was if I had taken pictures of houses that I thought could POSSIBLY be the famous house of Danny Tanner & uncle Jesse….
Seriously, Daniela?
who does that? .... HAHAHA (shaking my head)
The only part I absolutely DREADED about this entire trip, was the plane ride. . or should I say, G5 JET. Yes, we traveled via jet. Never in my life did I pray so hard. Hello, have you seen La Bamba??! Not my Ritchie!
Luckily, an hour and lots of dramamine later, we were safely on the ground.
Months went by, school and work began to take a major toll on my life. Trying to please everyone, not knowing how to say no, and trying to balance everything began eating away at my sanity. I wasn't eating, not because I didn't want to, but because there was NO time and NO appetite. I remember it came to the point where it was one apple a day and no appetite for anything else. I wasn't myself. I wasn't happy. School was turning out to be a fluke of a place. Teachers and headmasters were resigning left and right, and I began to wonder why I was paying so much money to attend such a disappointing institution. The disappointment broke my heart. Moving into a house closer to school with two new friends seemed to lift my spirits a little and made my commute a bit more bearable but my concerns with school were still a constant worry. Alast, I decided to part ways with the place and decided that I needed my family.
I don't miss the city of Las Vegas very much but I did miss the family immensly. It was nice being back in SLC. I never thought the words would come out of my mouth but I learned to love and miss the bubble called Utah for what it was: A Clean, friendly, much safer place. Not even 2 weeks after moving back, I received a phone call from the parents of the kiddos who lived next door to my girls. What the heck could they want? I would've never expected what they were calling for. The parents next door had arranged a Spring Break vacation for their family and since their kids had grown so fond of me, they wondered if they could "inconvenience me" to clear my schedule to come along for the ride. "You know, we already have our own nanny coming but we figured it wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of eyes on-board, ya know..." She said, in the most nonchalant way. "The trip will be 10 days total and ofcourse, we will pay for your passport and have it rushed. You will be paid for every day of your time. We spoke to Mrs.F about your rate and we will make it well worth your time. Have you ever been to Costa Rica?? Either have we!! We are staying on a private Yacht which belongs to a friend! Pleasssse say YES??"
I swear ASHTON KUTCHER, if you jump out I will cut you! But I wasnt being punk'd. This WAS real life.
The trip was fuckng amazing. Nanny-shmanny... these kids were ages 10 and over aka they wiped their OWN ass.. in every sense of the word. Which for us 19 year old nannies meant we were basically getting paid to do NOTHING! What their parents failed to mention was that this 6 bedroom, 14 Million dollar yacht also came with 4 floors of fun--- but more importantly, a crew of 12 Australian hotties, 3 of which were chefs, ready to attend to our every need.
Have mercy.
For 10 days we awoke to notes at our bedside, informing us of the Menu that day, and which activities they had planned for us that afternoon. Diving, zip-lining, snorkeling, sightseeing! The days were jam packed with adventure and there were always golden wrapped chocolates carefully placed on our pillows when we would return to the boat later that evening. Each meal was served on the beautiful outdoor dining terrace, which was like a dream in and of itself. The breathtaking views of the clearblue ocean and green leafy coastlines while we stuffed our faces....ah. We ate like royalty on precious Ver-fucking-sace porcelain dishes & place settings---that MIND YOU- were changed at every meal, never seeing the same dishes or fancy napkin holders twice. We drank wine, ate expensive food, laughed at inappropriate jokes at the dinner table, zip-lined with the monkeys in the rainforest, and most nights, after everyone was fast asleep, Alyssa (nanny) & I would meet the
Aussie crew at the bar on the top deck for more drinks and irresponsible Saedoo rides at 3am (one of which we did while under the influence of Absynth. hee hee. ) We were all one big family and It was all one incredible time. Two nights in a row we found costumes lying on our bedsides, inviting us to the themed party taking place later that night on the top deck.
My only responsibility on that freaking trip was applying sunscreen on a few kids- a few times a day. They were enjoying the sights with their parents the entire time. We nannies were not even needed, but damn, we were so grateful. I'll never forget glancing into the water late at night, as the ship sat still and we floated miles away from the shore. As I looked overboard, all you could see were bright, electric, neon purple jellyfish floating around in the ocean everywhere around us. MILLIONS of them. Like a scene out of the fucking Avatar movie. A glowing nirvana. Life was good. Coming home was sad, but the paycheck was jawdropping.
How do you even top something like that?
You cant.
Life after that got pretty bland...but I made sure I stayed busy.
After a year of being back in SLC, I started getting bored. Started getting the "itch" for something new. Usually my quick fix for this uneasiness is an extreme hair cut, a tattoo, or even a new job. I had done All 3 of those things numerous times that year. My hair had been tortured into J-Lo waves all the way to the extremely short Rihanna A-line. I seriously needed something else. I was bored with the norm. I was done with the ex boyfriends trying to come back into my life. I could feel it. I was getting that familiar angst again...... I had to get away.
God works in mysterious ways.
Days later, the greatest email arrived. The Vegas family was checking in to see how I was doing & what summer plans I had. (Pff, summer plans? Me? I wish. ) Mrs. F said she & the girls would be spending the summer at their beach house from June to September and would love if I could join, since Dad would be staying behind for work and they didn't like being alone. "You know, extra eyes. ." . And ofcourse, my favorite line "We'll pay you your regular salary......"
I quit my Utah bank job the next day and began packing for Malibu.
The year was 2007.
