Fun exhausting Saturday but totally worth it!!! Who'da thought that passing out flyers by the TKTS booth would be so much fun and so exhausting. The sun was beating down & I had to talk to people & be in Times Square around people but it was kind of fun. I'd do it again if I was going to be in the city anyway. But it's not really worth it if I have to pay to come in. It loses some of it's grandeur & the pay doesn't exactly balance out. Any way, next time you're in the City & someone wants to talk to you about a show or whatever, be nice to them. Maybe make eye contact at least. I mean really.
I did meet some cool people too. There was this guy selling tickets to Avenue Q and I'm not sure if he was straight or not, he claimed to be - don't ask how we got on that conversation - anyway he kept calling me "boo." It was cool to talk to talk to new people, I always forget how much I miss it.
At dinner was when we had our first nice little exciting moment!!! We had finished eating and were enjoying a second Magners, because we can & I happened to turn around to glance down the street and there for my glory was The Dad from Wonder Years. I kind of squealed! I mean COME ON that's like a staple of my youth. I really wanted to get a photo with him but this other woman walked up to the table and bothered him for a bit & I didn't want to do the same right after she did. She stood there for like 15 minutes, totally wasting my flavor. Anyway it was super awesome to see a celebrity & actually recognize them right away. I always have a bit of a problem with words. Here's our shady photo complete with the annoying lady.
So then we were off to see the one and only Harry Potter in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying and he was spectacular. John Laroquette was also phenomenal. The tickets were expensive and I rarely say this, but it was totally worth it. The show was just fun & Daniel Radcliffe can really move, the boy can DANCE! Afterward it was crazy. There were barricades and police lines across the street and easily 500 people, most of which didn't attend the show & came before it got out to claim a space, waiting to snap a photo and get a signature.
And then it happened. I don't know if it's because I'm getting old or I have grand schemes of these hottie tottie celebs seeing me & loving me, but I had no interest getting a photo or a signature. I actually felt really badly for him. I dunno, I guess they learn to live with it and love it on some level but I bet there are some days that he gets out of a show & just wants to sign a few signatures and walk home. I don't know, it was a really strange way to feel, but I couldn't help it.
But the best thing happened on the train at 2AM. We were coming up to the Morristown stop and this pretty good looking guy comes to stand in the vestibule cause he's getting off. I kid you not he turns town the window and starts using it as a mirror. Which in itself isn't strange, we all do that. But then he made my night oh so better. At first he started with a little stretching, you know, to loosen up the muscles. Then he started dancing, but really subtle. It was so funny, I think at one point he was actual 2 stepping with himself in the window reflection. As you do. The odd this was I was right there, it's not like I was up sitting in the compartment, I was in the vestibule too. Ahhh it's like the last little present in a day of gems.
In other news, it's flippin' hot. But Happy Memorial Day!!! Thanks to all those who serve!!!
I wont really be able to write tomorrow so I thought I'd send a quick note to say WHAT UP and I'll miss you. Tomorrow is the big day of Harry Potter wishes & TKTS selling dreams so wish me luck. Should be, intensely interesting.
I'm now on Twitter, which is a long time coming if you ask me cause I think things all the time that are really funny and no one is around to hear them. But if you're on there you can follow me @Janice_Lynne. I know right? Such a cute and catchy name. You can be jealous of my adorableness now.
I'll probably have a fun, detail filled post for Sunday. After all, it is Fleet Week & that means Midship Men!!Wellllll Hellllllooooooo Sailor!!!
Just kidding I'll be working...
my magic!
Ok I have to be up in 7 hours so, smell you later.
I don't know how it's slipped my mind to talk about this new campaign I'm running to get the New York Mets to make and It Gets Better video. I truly, and possibly naively, believe that if we can get professional atheletes to speak up, it will change young bullies perceptions of what is right & wrong. Please take 30 seconds to view & sign my petition. If I can get 200, the website may put this cause on it's front page which can make the number of signatures skyrocket!!! The San Francisco Giants were the first, let's make the Mets the 2nd & from there who knows!!! Thanks everyone!!!
Hey Guys it's New Chapter Thursday!!! Woooohooo!!! Are you so excited???
Not as excited as I am that Lauren & Scotty are in looooove!!! oh yeah, you heard me right. A friend of mine told me there was a kiss so I youtube that sh*t & there definitely was. And then Scotty goes "I love you baby!" So that made me happy that Scotty won because if Lauren had won their relationship never would have survived. Let's be honest. But I for one cannot wait to buy Lauren's first album!!!
Ok so if you're just joining us please refer back to last Thursday's post for Chapter 1 of Dockside. Here's Chapter 2!!!
Dockside
By Janice McCrostie
Chapter 2
“What do you know,” Clare said over the back seat “Keaten McGuire, single, just in time.”
“It’s not in time for anything Clare…”
“What’s this?” Gram piped up. “Maeve? Are you harboring an old flame for the sexy young lobsterman? Can’t say I blame you, if he’s anything like his father.”
The two girls laughed, never a dull moment.
“Oh Gram that reminds me…” Maeve breathed a thankful sigh of relief as her sister changed the subject. “What is going on there?”
“Oh nothing.”
“Sure looked like something.” Maeve turned to position herself to face her grandmother across the console. “When did that all start?”
Surprised by the fact that this inquiry came from her usually un-prying granddaughter, Gram answered.
“About a year ago,” she paused and glances across at Maeve, waiting for some form of disapproval. She found none. “After Anne passed away, you know the cancer, Mike was a mess. Everyone, the town, the church, Keaten, your father, all of us tried so hard to get him to talk about it. He, he was shutting down. It was your dad who called me and begged me to go over there and ‘work my magic’ as it were.”
“I don’t think that’s quite the magic Daddy was thinking of.” Maeve said, sending the three women into another torrent of laughter.
“You do have an incredible way Gram.” Clare piped up from the back seat.
“Well thank you, I didn’t know what I would be able to do, but my son’s friend needed me. He was like my son in some ways, back then.”
“Back then.” A giggle almost escaped Maeve’s lips.
“Would you two like to hear the story or not? Because I have better things to do…” The fake annoyance was overly apparent. Gram hadn’t been really annoyed with these two girls in, well ever. They both nodded exuberantly.
Gram let out a laugh and then immediately became somber again.
“I went over, knocked and got no answer. So I walked right in and it was the saddest thing I’d ever seen. Mike was just sitting in the recliner chair, a beer in one hand, his house a wreck and CNN on the tube. But he wasn’t watching it, he was just staring.” Here she paused, turning into the driveway. Remembering, as a woman who was in love would, how sad she had felt that day, looking at Mike, hopeless and lost.
“Gram,” Clare affectionately wrapped her arms around her grandmother from the back seat. “What did you do?”
“Oh I just started talking and cleaning. I was there for hours without Mike saying a word; I just cleaned and chatted away. I talked about your father and the commune and you girls living in the Big Apple. I told him about Woodstock with a 13 year old and the seventies with a Harvard graduate. I just kept talking. And when I’d finished I told him I would be back tomorrow and I left. The next day when I came back, he had showered. Then the next week he was up making breakfast. Eventually I got him to go out on the boat again with Keaten, and then out for drinks and the rest just kind of happened.”
“Just kind of happened! Going from friend’s mother to lovers and googly eyes does not just kind of happen!” Both Gram and Clare stared across the front of the jeep, shocked that Maeve had beaten Clare to the point again.
“That is a story for another day, possibly after several bottles of wine.”
The three women climbed out of the car and Maeve immediately walked around the hood to hug her grandmother. Clare shared the sentiment and soon her arms were wrapped around the two as well.
“Oh,” their grandmother’s words were muffled. “This is going to be quite an adventure.”
Maeve could not have agreed more.
Clare found herself on the docks bright and early the next morning. She hadn’t brought her camera, she always found that observing a place first, finding the best angles without the pressure of a lens brought the best pictures. Because of this her camera remained in the trunk of her car two hundred yards away.
She breathed in the salty fishy air. Since she was a child she had always felt connected to this place, to this island, to these docks. When she was twelve she had thought it was because of The Goonies. Every summer she had come up here she waited for her adventure to begin, waited to find One Eyed Willy’s map. She never did. She had found blueberry fields and old cemeteries and George Phillips who had taken her virginity at 17. But never her adventure.
That, she thought, was for this round. Her grandmother had been absolutely correct, Clare could feel it. This time the island would bring the changes that she had waited for 3 weeks every summer for the first 19 years of her life.
She bent down to pick up an old bottle cap, wondering how long it had been there. Her fingers touched the cold metal and she stopped. This was it, this was her first picture. The first picture of her adventure.
Clare shot up, the gravel whistling under her converse sneakers and began to run across the parking lot. Her blood was pumping, all because of a Budweiser bottle cap; beat up by cars and shoes. She stuck her keys into the trunk and looked across at the spot where her inspiration began. Good, nothing had changed. The sun was still low in the sky, the boats docked behind her shot had not moved out to sea and the bottle cap had not been touched. Clare grabbed her camera out of its sacred shoe box and jogged back across the parking lot, lying down next to her cap.
Then she let loose, shooting the cap in focus first, the old B in all its glory. Then she rolled to the left and she shot the boats with just a glint of cap in a forefront blur. Through her lens she found two fishermen preparing for the day, talking about the Red Sox game the night before or whether or not it will be a successful day on the boat.
A boat crossed her path and the name of it caught her eye and she sat up to get a better look. It wasn’t clear to the naked eye so she raised her camera up and began clicking away. ‘Amore Mae’ shown blue against the white boards and Clare could only have guest whose boat it was.
“Amazing.” She said aloud and brought the camera down to her lap.
“That’s just what I was thinking.”
Clare turned and saw what she could only describe as an English professor in work boots. He was wearing a dark blue button down dress shirt tucked into dark wash denim jeans and, yes, a tweed jacket. His face was angelic, with kind lines and perfect symmetry topped off with shocking blue green eyes. The wind blew and messed with Clare’s short unwashed cut, but did nothing to the mystery man’s short blonde hair.
“Sorry,” he continued. “Did I interrupt your concentration?” His voice was refined, one of those dialects that came straight from white collared NYC, summering in the Hamptons, not on this small island off the coast of Maine. But there was something about his voice.
“No.” She stood up, wiping the dirt off her shirt and pants and probably her face. It was fruitless, gravel stuck to every part of her. “I was finished.”
“Jasper Clay.” He walked towards her and extended his hand.
She stared at his hand. Definitely upper class, she thought, they’re the only ones who still think a handshake makes an introduction.
“Clare.”
“You have a very good eye. I never would have thought to try that particular angle.”
“Yeah well four years of photography school will do that to a girl; see the photo rather then the beer cap.”
He bent down and picked up the old Budweiser cap. Clare’s first reaction was pure anger, who did he think he was? That was her bottle cap for her photo, just because she said she was done didn’t give him the right.
“You found beauty in this? Fascinating.”
“Did you need something, directions to the closest golf club perhaps?”
It was his turn to stare. She waited, unlike Clare, worrying at what his answer would be. Usually her sharp tongue was a source of pride, but for some reason this time she felt a twinge of guilt.
“I was searching for polite conversation but apparently I’ve come to the wrong place.”
Clare grabbed the cap out of his hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”
She turned and began to stalk back to her car. She felt like a complete idiot, walking across the gravel parking lot like she was on a NYC street passing cat callers. Why was she shaking her hips like this? Weird.
“Maybe another time then!” he yelled out to her back.
“Yeah maybe.” Clare mumbled as she climbed into the car. She was going back to the B&B to shower, maybe then if she ran into Jasper Clay she would act like a human instead of a complete jackass.
Ok I know what you're thinking. That was too short!!! me too, so here's another one!!!
Chapter 3
Clare came into the room and threw her 5 pound bag masquerading as a purse on the bed next to her sister’s feet. Maeve shot up.
“What time is it?”
“A little before seven.”
“Jeeze Clare, what are you doing up? Did you go out already? You look like you rolled with pigs. What’s that in your hair? What’s in that bag I think you broke my toe?”
Clare look at her sister, Maeve’s long crazy hair framed her face with a small messed of a bun hanging off the back left of her head. Only Maeve could have that many coherent thoughts three seconds after she had woken up.
“I’m going to get a shower. Go back to sleep, you don’t have to be up yet, the island world doesn’t have to begin at the break of dawn for everyone.”
She moved into the small bathroom and slipped out of her filthy jeans, letting them fall off her slim hips to the floor. Pulling her t-shirt over her head she caught the mirror image of what Jasper had been looking at. An old bubble gum wrapper was caught in her slept-on hair sprayed do and smudges of dirt were her make-up for the morning. If you didn’t count the smudged black around her eyes. I really need to start taking my makeup off at the end of the day.
Clare grabbed a tissue and cleaned off the area around her eyes. Where had he come from? Literally nowhere. But then again, she had been in the zone, snapping away pictures for… how long had it been? She had headed out around and the clock had just read . Had she really been taking photos for over an hour? If so, how long had he been watching?
She shook it off. Clare never let guys get to her like this, Jasper Clay was just another stuck up silver spooner who was thinking about slumming with the dirty girl on the docks. He probably thought she was an islander, which would make his upper crust friends pat him on the back all the more.
Or maybe...
Maybe he really was just looking for some conversation.
He obviously was from out of town, maybe he was just that, lonely and looking for someone to chat with. Had New York really made her this bitter against men?
She turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up, her hand under the spray.
Who was this guy? And why was he so interested in talking to Clare? Aristocratic asshole or lonely professor? Either way Clare knew that the next time she saw Jasper Clay she was going to behave differently. Which way that behavior went was still up in the air.
She climbed under the warm water and let it wash her intriguing morning away.
Maeve leaned back on the pillows and closed her eyes, listening to the water in the bathroom. This was it; the sun had risen on her year in Maine. It was going to be good, an adventure as Gram had said. The memory made Maeve think of Gram and her new beau, which then made her think of Keaten. How long had it been since she’d seen him??
Eight years. It had been eight years since her last long summer up here. She had made short trips, long weekends flying into Portland and renting a car. But since the August where Keaten had become more then just a family friend, Maeve couldn’t bring herself to spend more then just a few days on the island. Always being certain that there was no way to run into Keaten.
They had known each other forever, summer days spent running through the woods, swimming in cold water and night spent around camp fires while their parents drank beers on the porch. But something had happened that last summer that neither of them had expected. When Maeve climbed out of the van and walked across the yard, Keaten met her half way, picking her up and spinning her around in a tight embrace. She still remembered the look on Clare’s face, like the fifteen year old had seen this coming for years. They sat around the porch, laughing about old stories and making new ones.
“Mr. Mac Ardle, would it be alright if Maeve came to a party some friends are throwing with me tonight?”
“Well that depends on what your intentions are with my daughter.”
The horror of her father’s words was still fresh in her mind, but so was the ridiculous grin that broke out on his half in the bag face. He and Mike hooted and hollered like they had never heard anything funnier.
“That would be fine Keaten.” Mom had saved. “You go have fun.”
They drove off in his pick up truck and turned right out of the driveway, riding in silence.
“So where is the…”
“There is no party.”
“Oh.”
He pulled off to the side of the road and threw the car into park. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands, fiercely like he was holding himself back.
“Keaten, I…” and then he was kissing her. They were a mess of hands and lips and clothes, gripping at one another in the front seat of the Chevy like horny teenagers. Hell they were only a few years older than that. Maeve’s head had been spinning; she’d waited for this moment since she was twelve and noticed Keaten as more then just a boy.
He had pulled at her top and probably would have ripped it off if she hadn’t grabbed his hand to stop him. They waited in silence then, Keaten holding her down against the seat. She loved the weight of his body on hers more then anything in the world, that’s why when he moved to get up she held on. He bent and kissed her again.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
And they did, every night for the next three weeks. They spent all the time that Keaten wasn’t on the boat together. Maeve had been so starry eyed that she hadn’t noticed his mother’s looks of concern or the way he never brought her around his friends, or touched her in front of his parents. It wasn’t until their last night of the summer that everything became clear.
She had come inside for a soda when her summertime romance fell apart. As she got ice from the freezer she heard Anne’s voice from the living room.
“Keaten Alexander McGuire, for the very last time, this is not right. And I swear to God if you break that girl’s heart.”
“I think you’re probably to late mom.” His voice wasn’t smug, just knowing. “I can’t stay away from her, I need to be around her, I only have one more night.”
“And then what? She goes back to New York with what idea Keaten? Thinking that the two of you are going to be together, not knowing that you’re getting married in the fall?”
At that point she had heard enough and began to back away from the counter, leaving her empty glass she went back out on the porch. When the two returned she tried her hardest to act as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had changed. But everything had and when he asked her to go meet his friends that night she said no.
The look on his face was one she never wanted to see again, but she kept her composure, climbed into the van and wept in silence back to the house. Then, up in the bedroom of two sisters, Maeve laid her head in her fifteen year old sister’s lap and cried herself to sleep. She never explained to Clare and that was why she was so adamant that Maeve re-ignite the flame. Every summer after that, she made it a point to have to work when the family planned their trip.
The shower kicked off and brought Maeve back to reality. Knowing now that he had never been married made matters worse. Should she have spoken to him about it? Tried to understand? Would it have changed anything? She still had two years of undergrad and numerous CPA tests to get through.
She climbed out of bed, determined not to think about it anymore. How much would she really run into him? As long as she kept to herself and her side job and her writing, all of that should keep her busy enough. Right now what she needed to do was find the side job. That’s what was most important.
“I think I’m gonna go for the shop job down by the dock.” She yelled through the bathroom door.
“Nice! Leave me with the house keeping.”
Maeve laughed “Exactly. Are you done with the shower?”
“Yeah.”
An hour later Maeve was ready to face the day. Wearing a button down green shirt and a fitting pair of jeans she walked down the stairs of the B&B. When she opened the front door the smell of pine needles hit her, almost knocking her back. That scent may have been what she’d missed the most.
After a short ride Maeve found herself in the parking lot at the docks. She parked the beamer next to a beat up pick up truck that smelled of tobacco and fish. Walking toward the shop, Maeve hadn’t remembered it being so tiny, just a small square building sitting on the corner end of the dock. The door was open, allowing a breeze through the old bate shed.
Estelle Montrose sat behind a make shift counter, obviously built by a kind carpenter from town. She had owned the shop since 1943, when her husband was lost in Italy. From what her grandmother had told her, Estelle spent every day there since. Except for Sundays, when she went to church and then, weather permitting spent the day at her husband’s grave. But now the years had failed her and it was too hard to mind the shop. Her grandsons did what they could with the upkeep, but their days were spent on fishing boats.
She walked up into the shop and took a deep breath, the smell of old books and history surrounded her.
"May I help you?" Estelle asked. Though she may have been getting up there in age her strong voice showed no sign of it.
"Yes. Hello Mrs. Montrose, my name is Maeve Mac Ardle; you may know my grandmother, Rose?"
The look of disapproval mixed with jealousy and admiration flashed across Estelle's crinkled face.
"I don't know if you remember me, I used to spend the summers up here, years ago."
"Of course, you’re the chubby girl who was always running around with the McGuire boy."
"Yeah, uh, that would have been... me." there was a tension in the air, the type only a little old lady could make.
The two women watched one another waiting for the other to make the first move. Maeve hadn't expected to face judgment when looking for a part time job, but beggars can't be choosers.
"I heard that you needed some help around the shop."
"What do you know about books?"
"Well, I read a lot. And I've been a CPA for the past..."
"What the hell is that?"
"Certified Public Accountant?" Maeve asked.
Estelle nodded her head, acknowledging that it was ok for her to continue.
"I will be quick to learn your books and procedures, so you won’t have to waste your time. And I love this island so I will be able to sell your tour tickets.”
“Then where have you been?”
“I’m sorry?”
“If you love this island so much why has it been so long that I barely recognized your face?”
“Oh, I… it’s just, well…”
“Jesus woman make a statement.” Estelle turned away and began rifling through an old tin file box. She pulled out a pile of papers and handed them to Maeve. “Come back this afternoon with these filled out, I’ll have you mind the shop while I go to my doctors appointment. It’s at .”
“Ok great!I’ll see you around . Wonderful.” Turning quickly Maeve stumbled on her way out the door. After she steadied herself and began walk towards her car she could have sworn she heard Estelle comment on her gracefulness.
They met at Ramona’s Diner for lunch and once again Clare ordered fish chowder.
“Is that the only thing you’re going to eat the entire year we’re up here?”
“No, once we are in the house I plan on having ramen noodles quite regularly, that is to save money so I can eat out more often”
“Oh nice.”
Maeve poked at her salad as she told Clare about her interaction with Estelle. Clare didn’t seem to think it was all that odd.
“She’s a just cranky old lady, what did you expect?”
“No I don’t think she is.” Maeve popped an olive in her mouth. “I think that she’s sad, she’s lost a lot.”
Clare watched her from across the table. Her big sister always wanted to be the hero to those in need, never saving herself. It had been years since Maeve had mentioned a guy in her life and Clare had wondered if she’d completely shut off. Or started playing for the other team.
“So about Keaten?”
“Clare I really do not want to talk about Keaten McGuire.” The name was a fierce whisper.
“I’m just curious. I wonder what he looks like now.”
“You’re doing nothing for the annoying little sister reputation you’ve worked so hard to get rid of.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Clare.” She was suddenly serious. “There’s just a lot of back story there I’m not ready to… face again. Nothing huge and earth shattering, I just don’t want to.”
“Got it,” Clare took a sip of her diet coke to wash down her soup. “Let’s talk about me then.”
Woooo it's another Wednesday of Witty Advice for you to Take or Leave. Or something kind of like that.
One of my girlfriends is having a coy flirtation with a guy at the gym. At first he would stop by the class that she takes to talk to a female coworker but then he started taking the class. Which according to my friend is aimed more at the female populations because it stresses cardio and the weights they use are not very heavy.
So eventually they started chatting a wee bit, you know the normal stuff. "How's your day?" "Here's your weights." "I want your body." Ok the last thing may be subtext.
There was even a time when she missed class and opted to elliptical instead and he went out of his way to say hi to her.
But here's the conundrum... he's not making any other moves & my friend definitely likes to be pursued.
Here's what I have to say to that.
Get over it.
I know Greg Berandt tells us "If he's not asking you out, he's just not that into you." So what. I love that book but if we lived our lives by it, some of us would never have dates. Now I'm not saying their aren't guys out there who will ask you out, but they have in the past and they've been duds.
Like you said, sometimes you can be intimidating. You're a flippin' corporate lawyer at one of the biggest firms in your state!!! So I think you need to bite the bullet on this one and take a chance. So what, he says no (which I really don't think he will) move past it and live your life. It's definitely his loss.
Now the other obstacle you had was that you are a sweaty gross mess after class. I feel ya sister. I showered before I went to clean the golf club last night cause I was so nasty, then had to show again cause that vacuum weighs about 35 lbs!
Anyway, my advice would be to catch him before class when you're still looking kind of fresh and fabulous. Try to talk about how work has been kind of stressful lately and you could really use a relaxing night with a glass of wine. See if he bites. He may not, men can be slow. (Sorry boys but it's the truth)
Give it a day or two. Then say "Hey, you know what. I think this Friday I'm going to pop out and get some drinks but my friends are all away. Would you maybe want to come?" This way if he says no you can make him think you're still going out. Whether or not you actually do go alone, you show your independence. And maybe his already busy, but you set him up to know that you'd like to do something outside of class. If he doesn't bite again, then I fear he may just not be into you.
I just hear you now, that fear of rejection is kicking in saying "oooo I could never do all that." But here's what I have to say to that.
Yes you can. It's just a state of mind. From a girl who could get her PhD in being a wingman, I promise you, you can do this. You have a gorgeous body & a gorgeous face. You're sexy. You're strong. And I promise that boys don't only like for your body... inside joke. Sorry friends.
From the back story that you've given me I think that he is definitely intrigued by you if not interested and would absolutely say yes to hanging out away from the gym. You could also see if he wants to do something active with you. Google search for Saturday classes and ask him if he would want to take one with you. That idea may be better than my first. hmmmm, I'm on a roll.
But anyway I know you're fearing the awkwardness if he does say no. But don't worry about that, he'll probably avoid the class before you do. After all it was yours first and men hate awkward tension more than woman do because they don't really know what it is that's bothering them. Men are silly.
I hope this helps. But you have to promise me one thing... when you do go out with him you wont pick him apart!!!! I love you muchly but you can sometimes pick one little thing about someone & then you write them off... be open minded about your future lover pleases!!! That is, unless he tells you about how he lives in his mother's basement, collects unicorn figurines and is an avid under water basket weaver. In which case I fully support your decisions to go to the bathroom and never come back.
1. Working out. Though I've come to this conclusion in the past & have kept it up for a few months, it seemed that when obstacles presented themselves (ie: moving. vaca. etc.) I stop. Not this time playas, cause now I'm a runner. eeeeeee!
2. I will take any paying job that comes my way. This Saturday I'll be in the city to seeing Daniel Radcliffe in How to Succeed In Business Without Really Trying and my friend James needed someone to stand in Time Square and sell tickets to shows. Yeah. That's right. Someone to be "that guy" who intercepts your mission to get a hotdog (or see the Empire State Building or hit up 30 Rock) and says "Hey, you planning on seeing a show tonight?" Yeah, that's happening. Should be fun / interesting / exhausting. I've also offered myself for shifts for the caterer of the Country Club but I'm not putting to much stock in that because I would bet he would rather work with the servers from his restaurant, I guess only time will tell on that one. Moral of this story - I'm an embarrassment to myself right now. On that note... anyone know of any part time side jobs?
3. Even more embarrassing, I depend wholly on my parents. I had to ask my dad for money to help with my student loans this month & before I did, I cried about it. I feel like such a failure. And knowing that I'm not doesn't make that feeling go away. Why is it that living under their roof and eating their food doesn't depress me as much as having to verbally ask for moola. I guess it's a "this is your life take it as it is" type of situation. It doesn't help that I got a letter about the position in Maine that I applied for. I pretty much knew that I didn't get it, but they felt the need to write me a letter to let me know for sure. Without so much as a phone interview, that's what gets me.
4. I will always miss people. I've lived in 5 states and 2 countries. There's always someone, somewhere that I will wish I was with. And there is always somewhere that I wish I was. Right now it's Scotland, tomorrow West Virginia, oops there's of missing Maine.
5. I will always, always escape into fantasy. I'll never forget, after one of my favorite professors read my Senior piece she said "Janice this is why you're single, love doesn't happen like it does on TV." And I've definitely outgrown that a bit, the idea that it hits you and you're smitten and it's fantabulous. But I will always enjoy a good book, a good movie or a good television show. I'll never stop wanting to re-read the Harry Potter series or pick up my favorite Susan Elizabeth Philips (Ain't She Sweet or This Heart of Mine - it's a toss up) to skim through my favorite juicy parts. In this same token I will always daydream (or night coast as I like to call the bit before I fall asleep) about meeting my dream man - celebrity or not - and how he'll realize I'm perfect & we're meant to be. That is why I write. That is why I have to write. I have so many amazing tales to tell... I just need to get them on paper. Or in our case, on blog.
6. I will always like nice things but I will be able to live without them. I could probably make over $1,000 selling my Coaches on ebay. Problem is, my mom wont let me cause she thinks that one day I will retire them and they will be her's. What she doesn't understand is the only way I will let them go is if I'm getting moneys back for them. I have 8 of them. In my defense they're all from a time when I had cash flow.
7. My life plan is blown to shi*t & it's time to re-evaluate.
8. Country music makes me happy and makes me feel better about the ridiculousness that is me right now. Any why wouldn't it when it's merged so seamlessly with theatre...
9. I'll always be hungry for something that is not good for me. Boneless Buffalo Wings from The Bee, a hamburger from anywhere, Mom's homemade Mac N Cheese, Doritos, disco fries, taylor ham, egg & cheese, whatever. I'll always love junk food & I'll never be able to eat it freely.
10. I will always be just a little bit to sensitive. But not in the way you think. Let me try and explain in a way that doesn't make me seem insane. I didn't like to hold my girlfriends hand in public, not because I was worried about how it would look or what people would think, I was worried that someone would say something ignorant and it would make me cry. I can't bear to watch people be cruel and hurtful to no purpose except to be cruel and hurtful. It breaks my heart. And that's probably why, as much as I want to volunteer for The Trevor Project or the Human Rights Campaign I can't bring myself to fill out the form. Here, in this particular movement, my skin just isn't thick enough to withstand the ignorance. Knowing the hate that's being spewed out there makes me cry at least once a week. I'm too sensitive for other peoples pain. How's that for Pathetic?
So this past weekend 2 of my friends (that I know of) got married & 2 of my sorority sisters (that I know of) got engaged. 1 person (that I know of) had a baby. I know, I know...
I'm still young. But watching a Jane Austen film, listening to Anne Elliott & Charlotte Lucas talk about being over the hill & dried up at 27, does not help.
I know times have changed & that I am no longer considered damaged and barren at 27, but sometimes I start to feel like it. This is not how I planned my life to go.
But you know what they say, you plan & God laughs.
Still can't help but plan. Here is where I was supposed to be at 27:
1. Married or on my way to being married (My mother had been married for 5 years at my age)
2. Baby or 2 or 3 or one on the way (My mother had 2 kids at my age)
3. Uhhh have my own place (yeah... she did. She shared it with us but she did)
4. Either have some sort of career or make my money the old fashion way, raising my children.
Where I actually am at 27:
1. No where near being anything that even resembles marriage. I can't even talk to guys at the bar and I'm re-reading the Harry Potter series.
2. Kinda would like number one to go hand in hand with number 2, but I'm not fussy. It is however mutually exclusive with number 4 if number 1 isn't an option.
3. I have my own space, but it still has posters on it's wall. Sorry Princess Bride is the bomb.
4. Need to be more self motivate, that's for sure.
In order to keep my self confidence up a little... Things I have accomplished at 27:
1. Bachelor & Master degrees in subjects that I love.
2. I'm a genuinely good person who has a small vice of being very funny in her judgment of you.
3. I know what type of work I don't want to do for the rest of my life - corporate American can bite my tookis.
4. I've made incredible friends throughout my journeys of living near & far.
Those are some pretty good accomplishments. Right? Yeah they are, I don't care what your jealous butt says.
Maybe I need to start making goals for my months or weeks. Eh? Where did this post come from? So random right?
Anybody else excited for Dancing With the Stars finale tonight? It's a big week in television... both DWTS and Idol finales. So fun! ...so pathetic.
So much to go over in the day that I've been gone... know since I lead such a ridiculously exciting life. But really, I actually did go out again this weekend. And had a few epiphanies.
The first being that creepers need love too, it's just not with me. We went out with a very stereotypical mentality that Dane Cook made fun of to perfections... we just wanna dance!
Mind you when a group of girls "just wanna dance" they are usually heading out with the mission to booze it up, literally throw their bodies around the dance floor & if the right gentleman caller should arise, yes we will talk to you. Anyway, we were dance dance dancin' and we were surrounded by creepers.
My one friend is a really good dancer, but not like I'm going to stand here and wave my tookis back and forth trying to seduce you. She actually dances and doesn't give 2 shits that their are people around her with spillable drinks. Which is fun only because she can really move and people actually watch her with aww. But can be difficult because it attracts creepers.
We had old men creepers. We had live with their mother creepers. We had totally smitten pretending to play with their phone 2 feet away creepers. But the king of the creeps was a guy who was quite a bit over weight (which hey I can't complain about) but he kept dancing circles around us and purposefully bumping into us pretending he had suave moves. It was tragic. Luckily he finally backed off or I might have had to Jersey table-flip his ass.
All it all it was a super fun night but there was no sighting of the super douche from last weekend, which was a bummer.
Oh and in case you were wondering... I held out and didn't booze to hard. Only had 2 drinks & could drive home. Makin' momma proud!!!!!
Yesterday I drove out to PA to visit with one of my three Shawns. Oh, yeah, have I told you all that I all my Shawns are gay? I have three Shawns, one Shawn & 2 Seans. Then Shawn is dating Sean. So literally, all of them. Gay. Yeah, I'm going to write a sitcom about it, I just need the connections. Anybody? Anybody?
We had a great BeerBQ (my alcohol consumption was not controlled in this situation) and then watched some episodes of Parks & Recreation, which I'm newly in love with. Amy Poehler & Adam Scott are adorable!!! So stinkin' cute... can't wait for next season and to catch up on seasons past. Yeah, cause that's what I need. Another television show.
Anyway so today consisted of a run with my brother & the dog. Noooooottttt as productive as one would think. Haha. And then I did some crunches.
Yesterdays weight in I was at (tentatively) 178. Which I haven't seen in a few years so I'm pretty stoked. I say tentatively because I can't really see where the little hand is definitely but that's where I'm hoping it's at. That brings my total weight loss to 12 pounds. What up bitches?!?! Just gotta keep it up!
Ooo in other news, my cousin left for her big adventure in New Mexico yesterday. I know she's going to have an amazing time & I'm super jealous. In fact... I started another novel based on her adventure if I was to join her. I dunno I just really like when there are two story going on in a novel, I blame Susan Elizabeth Philips for that. PS. If you haven't read her, please do. She's fantastic. You're reading along and suddenly your like "ummm, huh... what... did he just... oh yeah he did do that dirty thing to her." You seriously don't even notice. Brilliant!!! I aspire to write lova scene like her. Spoiler alert... there's nothing to dirty in Chapter Days book. SORRY!!!
So I just did my first round of cleanage at the club. It was interesting and easy enough.
I love watching men in their natural habitat, it's kind of fascinating.
My brain isn't really working today and I blame that on the lower amount of oxygen going to my brain because of my stuffy nose & because I just spent the last hour and half among cleaning agents. So fuunnnn!!!!
Tonight I'm going out with friends I haven't seen in a while which will be a good time. I'm going to try not to drink because
A. I don't feel good
B. I don't have any money
3. I need to be able to function tomorrow
IV. I need to start cutting back on drinking to keep my weight loss in check.
4 very good reason I'd say, to bad I have horribly self control.
I've always been an atmosphere person. Most of the time I need to be in the library to study, I need to be in the gym to work out & I need to be in a coffee shop-ish to write. So, unfortunately I find it hard not to drink when I'm at the bar. Does that make me a bad person? hahaha!
So I will let you all know how I do tonight... I'll try to stay strong and make you proud!!!
Now I'm off to the gym & to get ready for the night.
PS. Working out is so much fun when you can't really breathe through your nose and you feel like you're going to pass out afterward. Driving home is my fave.
I have a lista-mungo of things to talk about but I don't feel like I like them very much. So instead I think I'll make Thursday... New Chapter Day!!!!!!
Oh yes friends... it's finally here. The day where I share with you my first bad romance novel. Don't steal it, it's not that good. So first I'll post Chapter 1, see if you want more. If not I totally understand cause who wants to read a bad book? I've actually caught myself like half way through romance novels before & I'm like "hey self, you're not enjoying this at all & if you knew her, you would punch the heroine!" so I had some self control and stopped. Only happened twice though, means I'm glutten for punishment or I reaaaalllly like romance novels.
Just so everyone knows, I'm not looking for editors or critics, this is all just in good fun. So just say yay or nay regarding if you want more. Not trying to be a biotch, just not in the mood.
Anyway!!! There's no time like the present, here we go!
Dockside by Janice McCrostie
Chapter 1
They rode bumper to bumper up over the bridge, hitting the breaks when the workman flipped his sign to “stop.” The ten hour drive seemed to be lasting days as the sun inched toward the ocean.
“Gaaaaaaaaaa!” came over the two-way. “So close! Yet so far away!”
Maeve laughed into her radio and clicked off. Her sister Clare had been making these sly little comments on and off throughout the whole trip. Joking about the slow car in front of them or the red midlife crisis convertible that just passed by. Most commonly was the “I have to pee” that came once every two hours or so. Both sisters had extremely small bladders.
Maeve and Clare had never been close, but at the same time never distant. They knew about things that went on in one another’s lives but never really what was going on in one another’s heads. To the casual observer the two were as different as apples and oranges. Maeve was taller, with dark hair, bigger boobs that she often hid behind loose sweaters (much to Clare’s begrudging) and a very docile demeanor. She was a self-declared goofball and an honorary dork, because she had never gotten very high marks in school.Clare on the other hand was thinner and shorter, with blonde hair that included chunks of black underneath. She was partial to clothes that showed off her form (and minimal breasts), wearing tight jean to accentuate her cute little butt. Clare’s makeup was an art form to her, and to Maeve, as she had never seen such pieces in the Louvre.
Maeve reached across the console and grabbed a Dorito from the bag on the passenger seat.
“I saw that.” Crackled out of the radio.
“What I’m hungry?”
“Fish chowder. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
The orange clad man in front of Maeve flipped his sign to “slow.” A silver Mercedes Convertible passed with a young couple obviously named Muffy and Chad from the Upper East Side.
“I got it, you don’t even need to say it.” Maeve buzzed into her two-way. “Muffy and Chad.”
“I was going to go with Alexaaaaaaaandra and Manley, but I like that better.”
Maeve laughed out loud again and breathed a sigh of relief. This is going to work she thought it has to.
When Clare had told her about her idea to move to Maine after graduation, Maeve had at first thought it ludicrous. She asked why a suburb born self proclaimed city girl would want to move to a fishing island on the northern coast of Maine. The simple answer was “That’s where my inspiration is drawing me.”
To people like Maeve the idea of having “inspirations” was an unknown entity. You didn’t have inspirations; you had plans and goals, goals which you then set out to achieve using your plans. Maeve planned to go to college, get a degree, hopefully meet a nice guy, marry, work for a while until kids became and option, raise her family and live happily ever after. Even at this moment she had no idea what she had “planned” on doing if her strategy had not worked out. Maine was never an option, that was until it became and option for Clare.
“I just need a year.” She had said. “One year to go up there and live and veg’ and take photographs and get my portfolio together.”
“But where will you live?”
“Gram’s room.”
“She needs to rent that, she needs the money.”
“Oh. Well I’ll figure something out. I mean it’s not like we don’t know anyone else up there.”
“I just think you need a little more preparations before moving up there. Maybe a month, I mean a week after graduation?”
Clare had scoffed at the word, preparing for things was lame. Imagine her shock at graduation when Maeve informed her that she was coming along. With parents guffawing in one ear, Maeve explained her reasoning.
“I just need a year.” She looked squarely in Clare’s eyes. “A year to get my head together, work.”
“Maybe write.” Clare had whispered.
There were certain secrets that only sisters told, whispered across pillows at ungodly hours. And that was Maeve’s.
“I know it was your adventure, but I was hoping it could be ours.”
“I’d love it.”
“Well that’s good because I’ve already quit my job and rented a place for us to live right outside of Stayton. We’ll have to stay in a B&B the first week because the spring tenant won’t have vacated yet and Gram’s room is already booked, but I’ve already made the reservation so…”
“Maeve.” Clare interrupted the beginnings of a panic attack. “That’s great. Thank you for doing all that. We leave next Saturday?”
“Next Saturday.”
Clare tapped on the steering wheel as they passed over the threshold onto MooseHeadIsland. She sang along to Leaving Las Vegas as her stomach grumbled something fierce. Clare had refused to eat anything for last five hours of the trip with the knowledge that once they arrived they would be taking Gram out to dinner at one of few restaurants on the island. But with all restaurants on a fishing island came fish chowder and Clare was ready for a heaping bowl.
The wind whipped through the car and reminded Clare of the hurricane they had “survived” fifteen years ago. It had come on quickly and the whole family hunkered down in grandma’s living room, candles set all around the room. They had played a game of monopoly to distract from the rain beating on the window, but it hadn’t help Clare. She tried to play tough, because she didn’t want Maeve to know that she was scared, because to the little sister, the opinion of the big sister meant the world.
Clare knew her place in the family. She was the dreamer, the illogical one, the artist. So her trip up to Maine was exactly for the purpose of playing the part. The idea of moving back into her parents’ house was worse then the desolation of an island an hour from a mall. Two hours from what Maine masqueraded as a city.
“Oh fish chowder! You came and you gave without taking!!” Clare sang through the radio to the tune of “Mandy” by Barry Manilow.
“Freak.” Came back as they pulled into the driveway.
Clare threw her 1996 purple Saturn into park, turned off the ignition and hopped out.
“You know you dig it,” she yelled to her sisters BMW. She knew her sister was just as much of a spaz as her, she just never had the chance to show it. Maeve was always playing the part of older sister, just as Clare played hers.
“Yeah sure…”
“Grandmother!” Clare sang as she walked up onto the screened in porch. “Gram?”
The door swung open and a smile spread across Clare’s usually macabre face.
“Hey there hot stuff, long time, no see!”
Their grandmother had always been a breath of fresh air in their upper middle class NYC suburb life. Both girls wondered how there father could have come from her. She would tell stories about how Dad used to run around the commune naked, weaving in between the flowing skirts of her “sisters.” She was a great mother, sending him to the public school to get his education all the while teaching him about life at home. When he turned eighteen she asked what he wanted, he said college, so she sent him. Though Gram had kind of hoped he would have said “start a band.” Now he was a partner for one of Manhattan’s most prestigious lawfirms, hard to imagine him bare assed in a field.
Looking at her now both girls knew that her garden wasn’t just for squash and tomatoes, that there was something special hidden under all those branches.
Gram kept her silver hair long, in a loose braid down her back. She still wore her peasant tops and long skirts and had broken out her sandals in the new crisp May weather. Her face had the lines of a life lived.
“Oh I am just so excited to have you girls here! It’s going to be fucking awesome!”
Clare let out hoot at her grandmother’s exclamation, but Maeve flinched. She never got used to Gram’s potty mouth.
“Are you ready for dinner?” Maeve asked “We’re pretty starving.”
“I am. I am. Let me just grab my purse. I have a friend meeting us if you don’t mind.” She slipped inside the house before allowing an answer.
“A friend,” Clare said, in a happy whisper “she’s still got it after all these years.”
“It could be Mary.”
“It’s not Mary.”
“It could be.”
“She would have said ‘Mary is meeting us for dinner’ if it was Mary.”
Gram came bustling out the door with her huge bag bouncing off her hip. “I’ll drive, I’m sure you girls have had enough of that to last you a few days.”
Clare sat up front and the two chattered on. How was senior year, the boys, the parties, the booze? Maeve sat contently in the back listening to stories of blurred nights that one would not conventionally share with their grandmother. She had always envied her sister the ability to be impulsive with the little things. It was easy for Maeve to by a plane ticket to Florida or splurge on that little Beamer, but going home with the hottie at the end of the bar was never an option. A big change was somehow more acceptable to Maeve then the fear of the morning after.
They pulled into the restaurant and Gram hopped out, waiving to someone waiting by the front door. Clare whipped around in the front seat and bore her eyes into Maeve’s head before pulling her back into the car.
“Don’t you recognize who that is?” she hummed in a fierce whisper.
“Oh my Gosh.”
“Who would have thought Gram would shack up with Dad’s old best friend?”
“Ha!” laughing Maeve got out of the car; somehow this did not surprise her at all. “Nice.” She said to her sister as they walked toward the entrance.
Gram had her arm tightly around his waste and he looked down at her like she was the last woman on the planet.
“Girls, you remember…”
“Mike McGuire,” Clare interrupted with that glint of deviousness in her voice. “Good to see ya!”
“You too Clare, Maeve.” He held out his hand to both the girls.
“Shall we eat?” Maeve broke the awkward silence that so rarely came between the three Mac Ardle women.
“I think that’s a great idea.” Mike gave her a thanking grin.
Once they were sat everything returned to normal. It was obvious, at least to Maeve that though some scandal may lay behind the relationship, they truly cared about one another. And both girls had unceremoniously decided not to drown Gram in questions until they were safely in the car. It was mostly unceremonious because Maeve had to win a game of rocks papers scissors to get Clare to go along with it. So she sat and pouted while Maeve contributed to the conversation.
They discussed life on the island and how the summer season was looking for fishing and tourist. Any part time jobs that he knew of that were still open. He did know that the hotel was still looking for maids and that Estelle Montrose was looking for someone to mind the small gift shop that she owned off the dock. It was general polite, “I know your sleeping with my grandmother but we’re staying far away from that topic”, conversation.
“So Maeve, your grandmother told me about your break up, I’m sorry to hear about it.” It was just like a man to think he was being kind when he was actually being a moron. There was a muffled thump from under the table where Gram had kicked him.
“Thank you.” Maeve answered.
“You know…” Mike tried for a swift recovery. “Do you remember my boy Keaten? He’s just going through the same sort of thing.”
“Oh I’m sorry to hear that.” Now Clare was the one who kicked Maeve under the table.
“How is he doing?” Clare’s fake concern was only noticed by the double X chromosomes at the table.
“He’s doing all right, working on the boat a whole lot more. You know she met some New York City vacationer and just lost interest. Sometimes I just don’t understand…” He trailed off, suddenly remembering that he was out numbered. “Well you know how things happen.”
