Tuesday, June 21, 2011

27 & Pregnant...

ok. It's been far far far to long and for that I say, I'm sorry. And I also say, I'm not sure I'm back for good. My computer is having a little temper tantrum & is at times so slow that it causes me to walk away for days on end as to be sure that I don't throw it out the window. So again I apologize but I cannot yet say "I'm back baby!"

Anyways so I thought I'd come back with a humorous vengence.

If you've seen 16 & Pregnant you know they all start with a "monologue" about their carefree teenage life that ends with the words "But that's about to get a lot more complicated because... I'm pregnant." I've also noted to you all in the past that if I got pregnant right now I would be no better off than the majority of these girls. So I thought it would be kind of funny if I wrote my 27 & Pregnant monologue.


"Hi, I'm Janice. I live in Parsippany, New Jersey with my Mom Sue, my Dad Glenn, my sister Gina, my brother Jesse, our dog Daisy and cat Ruby. It's a tight fit in our three bedroom house, but somehow we make it work. I recently moved back home from studying abroad in the UK and it's tough readjusting to living at home with my parents, especially since I'm 27. I really want to be a writer, which is a hard business to not only break into, but to make a living. So right now I'm nanny-ing for my cousins. But life is about to get a lot more complicated... because I'm pregnant."


Can you tell what I did today??? That's right, I watched the 16 & Pregnant marathon.

Somebody send me a questions, I'll try to answer it tomorrow night. I had to take blogger off my phone bc it was driving me INSANE by reposting old blogs over and over and over and over again and therefore it kept sending me notifications. And if you know nothing about me, know this... I cannot leave a notification un-viewed. I can't have unviewed emails in my delete box. It's just not an option. So having notifications at the top of my phone... in upwards of 58 notifications... not ok. So bye bye blogger.

Friday, June 17, 2011

a whole lot of nothing

I'm having some trouble with my computer but hopefully tomoorrow my brother can look at it & give it a quick 1-2 and get her back in shape.

That's a brothers job after all... right?

This weeks has been kind of low key anyway. So I promise you aren't missing anything. Haha, I'll keep you all posted on anything new and exciting.

Anyway, I'll be back eventually. Don't miss me to much.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Blood. Sweat. Beers.

Are you a warrior???

That's a question I had the answer to at about 2:59 PM on Saturday. And that answer was "well no, I wouldn't consider myself particuarly tough at all, I actually might vom right here, if you wouldn't mind."

But at 3:00 PM fire shot from the pilars and I was off in a mass of people to become a warrior, whether I liked it or not.

I started the Warrior Dash going a little to strong & almost wore myself out before the first task even came up. I don't really know what exactly I was thinking but it was something like this "oh the tasks will be a nice little break."

Am I a moron or what???

TASK 1: To crawl underneath black tarps for about 15 - 20 feet. Easy peasy right? But no... there are roots & rocks & sh*t & you can't see them. Plus, at first, you're much more concerned with dodging any feet that may wack your face. Seems more important right? But it wasn't bc you need your knees to run the rest of the race, you're nose... not so much.

TASK 2: oh hey, here's a bunch of really wobbly 2 X 4s for you to crawl up, then crawl down, then shimmy across a 1 X 3 (or something ridiculous) & do it all over again. I literally said "Mother F***ER!!!!" good thing there were not children. Here's the problem with this one, I hate heights. And even though it was only like maybe 8 to 10 feet high, I was balancing on something my ass didn't fit on. Anyway, I made it through. Huzzah!!!

TASK 3: I hate to have to say this but I had to skip half of this task. There were plywood walls that wobbled around and they were probably about only 4 feet high. But here's the thing, I'm only 5'2" so getting over them can pose a bit of an issue. I tried like three times but couldn't quite get it up there & I didn't have any teammates to help me out. So I skipped the walls (there were 3 or 4 of them) but would pop back in between and go under the posts. I didn't want to be a complete loser mcdose.

TASK 4: I felt like Atreu & I was saying goodbye to my horse. Or my sneakers bc this mud meant business. I saw many a people loose their footing & shoes... I made it through. Pat me on the back.

TASK 5: Rope maze type thingy. They were elastic and you kind of manuevered through them. I felt like a spy it was kind of cool.

TASK 6: Oh hey lake, let me wade through you up to my waist. Oh yeah I'm just dunking all the way under bc that's how I role.

TASK 7: ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME!!??!!??!!?? that wall is about 20 feet high & I'm supposed to pull myself up it using that wee rope. NO THANK YOU!!! Saving that task for next year.

TASK 8: Tunnels, sporadic tunnels, short tunnels. And guess where this kid fell down for the first and only time... in the tunnel.

TASK 9: Rope wall up, rope wall down. When I got to the top I took a safety break cause my knees were shaking (I'm just not a fan of heights.) and had a little convo with the volunteer sitting up there. "So, how's your day?" "Whatcha up to?" Why did I come up here again" & "has anyone ever fallen IN the fire?"

TASK 10: Sh*t ton of tires & 9 busted out glassy jagged cares to climb over & more tires. Really??? REALLY??? And van with sun roof... I hate your life.

TASK 11: Jump through fire. You know... as you do.

TASK 12: The last task. Here it is. The piece de la resistance (uh?) A pool of muddy rocks so thick that you float in it. Yes I swam / crawled myself through this pool, right under the barbed wire... what is up. bad ass bitch coming through. I wont mention that both my hair & shirt got caught at 2 different points, cause it's irrevalant to my greatness.

SECRET 13th TASK: The f***ing FREEZING water you used to rinse yourself off. Seriously this was the worst task for me... it was so cold you couldn't catch your breath in it. It was horrible.

It was ridiculous on so many levels of fun. One of the funniest things was how frustrate I would get when I would slip on the mud when for all intents & purposes I shouldn't have but bc my soles were so packed with mud I had no traction. So I would slide when it wasn't even that muddy. My time wasn't to bad


Saturday, June 11, 2011

My room is a mess so it makes sense that my life is too. Wait a minute, scratch that, reverse it.

Thursday I went to the club to clean it and all I could think the whole time was... when did I dream this? When was my life's dream to be cleaning up after a bunch of men. Individuals who can't even keep me abreast of when there are events. So all I could do today was take the garbages out bc they were in the middle of an outing.

So just to make matters worse I overheard one of the members talking about his daughter, who I graduated with, who is extremely successful. Then I realized, that's why my dad always seems so annoyed with me, I'd be annoyed with me too if I had to listen to that all day. I dunno, I think Thursday was just a wallowy day.

But today... I'm running the Warrior Dash. So, yes, I wrote this Thursday night. I will be in a completely different state of mind come Saturday. Which, is today.

You know you love this rambling.

Anyways so I'm at the W.D. today & my motto is definitely that I'm not looking to place, just to survive. It's going to be such a good time but I just really want to make it through. From A - Z. And then drink many many many beers. Wish me luck...

Friday, June 10, 2011

A Little Freestyle Writing for your Reading Pleasure

Becauses, Buts, Maybes and What Ifs                                

I can’t lie. I thought, hoped, that last minute you would change your mind. Like the Prince Charming of my day dreams, I thought you’d come for me. I hoped. But you didn’t and even though it’s been a very long time, I’m left with this empty feeling.
What I pretended we had is nothing compared to what we could have had.
There are only a few things that I regret in this life and one of them is how I treated you. Because if I had behaved differently maybe we could still be friends now. But that’s not true either.
Because you have her and you don’t need a me. But you like to pretend that you do.
Whenever I see you, you act like we’re 16 again and things are as they were.
You’re my friend who steals my camera and takes goofy photos.
You’re not the guy who wears purple ties to match her shoes.
You’re not that guy.
But then again, I don’t know you anymore either.
Just like you don’t know how different I am now.
I don’t know me now.
Because I thought I was a woman who wouldn’t hurt like this over something made trivial by time. Something that was bound to happen eventually.
But what if you knew me now, would I know me now?
Would you see something different or would you see what you couldn’t back then.
Because I think that if you knew me now, if you had taken the time before taking this leap things would be very different.
But I know that’s not true.
I know we’re not meant to be anything anymore.
But maybe some day, when our kids are grown, they’ll meet. And all the feelings that I imagined existed somewhere in outer space can actually be put to use.
Maybe that is our destiny.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

I'm Going to Have to Start Calling this 2 New Chapters Day

Dockside
by Janice McCrostie

Chapter 6

Clare had to get out of there. The look of utter horror on her sister’s face was torture, mostly because she wanted to laugh and cry for her at the same time. But better than anything was the look on Keaten’s face, it was taking everything in him not to jump Maeve’s bones.
After Maeve had run into her room to put some clothes on, Keaten let himself in through the screen door and apologized to Clare.
“Is she coming out any time soon?”
“Not likely.” And she laughed herself up to her room. When she’d gotten dressed and come back down the stairs he was still waiting in the living room.
“Best of luck to you!” she chimed as she jumped out the door to her car. Oh to be a fly on the wall.

He must have sat there on the futon for at least thirty minutes before Maeve had the guts to come out. She had completely covered up her body, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and blue jeans. Just to be safe she had layered a black camisole and long sleeved NYU t-shirt underneath. To say that she was sweating was an understatement; she was dripping like she’d just taken a shower.
“Hi,” was all she said.
He stood and turned towards her, both of them just waiting for the other to react first. The look that Clare had seen on his face the week before seemed to have become a permanent fixture. Keaten looked pained and angry. Maeve had the impression that his silence wasn’t brought on by nerves.
“How are you settling in?”
“Good. It’s been good. How, uh, how are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
Maeve had no idea how to react to this. With Sam it had always been silent sulks, never actually saying what he was feeling. He never came right out and said what was on his mind. She had come to the conclusion that all men were like that.
“Can I get you anything? I think we have beer in the fridge.” She walked into the kitchen  and opened the door, it cooled her down a little bit so she stood there with her back to him a while.
“I’m alright.” He crossed to the sink and put his hands on either side. He gripped it the same way that he had held onto his steering wheel all those years ago.
Maeve couldn’t believe how little he had changed. He was still the strikingly handsome guy that she had fell for all those years ago. Yeah, he had gotten older, but the years of manual labor had made him look worn in a way that was comforting. He was, in this moment, the sexiest thing she had ever seen, probably because she had been stuck in the land of the white collars for five years. “You look good,” he said.
“You too.” She grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge and finally closed the door. “What brings you by?”
“Oh.” He turned and leaned on the edge of the counter. “Thought it was time I stopped by, welcoming committee.”
“That was nice of you. Did Clare say when she’d be back?”
“No. No she didn’t say. How’ve you been, you know the last eight years or so?” An easy smile perked up at the corners of his mouth, the tightness in his body had worn out.
“I’ve been good,” Maeve laughed. “Got my CPA, playing with Corporate America’s money, you know that old chestnut.”
“Well that’s good.”
“Yeah, and you?”
“Good.” His sarcastic response to her over use of the word didn’t escape her notice, so she gave him her best teacher face and he continued. “Working with my Pop, my mom passed away a few years back.”
“Yeah, I heard that I’m sorry.”
“It’s been rough, but your Grandmothers been a big help.” That same smile was etched on his face.
“I bet she has.”
“She says you’ve visited a few times. Never caught you though…”
Maeve didn’t know how to respond to that. Was “I worked hard to make sure you didn’t” an appropriate thing to say?
“Yeah I only really had time to pop up for small visits, didn’t really have time for socializing. That’s corporate life for you.”
“I guess I wouldn’t know.”
“I guess you wouldn’t.”
That awkward silence came back again. She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, it just kind of happened that way. Maeve MacArdle was a lot of things and one of those things was awkward.
“I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded.
“It’s fine. It’s true, I don’t know anything about desks.” There was a glint in Keaten’s eye that told her he was teasing her. “Now baiting on the other hand I could teach you about.”
“Ughh, no thank you.”
The memory of a nasty boat trip where Maeve nearly got sick off the side of the boat flashed in both their memories and the two were laughing again, like old friends. Everything seemed really simple with Keaten, like riding a bike. It surprised Maeve that everything was going along so seamlessly.
She had expected to feel more anguish seeing him than she did. All she felt right now was comfort, happiness and little hint of lust. She took a sip of her water to clear up her cotton mouth, and besides that one minor impairment of his presence, everything was fine. They continued on like that, talking about how life had changed and who’d they’d become.
She didn’t mention her engagement and he didn’t mention his son. They talked about little things, how was Mom and Dad? Was Clare completely crazy or was it Maeve because she had followed along? How was the fallout from his father’s new ‘relationship’? Town gossip and the success of the lobster season so far, conversation flowed.
“I better get going.” He said finally, “I need to get some work done on the boat before tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Didn’t your grandma call you?”
“No she…” Like a cue in a movie the phone rang. “How the heck?”
He laughed and began walking backwards towards the door. “Oh and by the way, when I said you looked good I meant it. I meant every inch of it.”
She felt the blood rush to her face as he let himself out the door. She reached for the phone.
“Hello.”
“Alright, so dish.”

After Clare hung up with her sister she turned to her Grandmother and smiled.
“I think an old love has been rekindled.”
Gram gaped over across a sea of articles from the newsletter she edited.
“Got to go!” Clare hollered and headed out the door.
“Wait just a minute missy!” Gram crossed around the table and caught the door behind her. “You girls better be here by , I’m not cooking all this food on my own.”
“Yes, madam!” Clare called over her shoulder.
As she road down the two lane high way towards the liquor store she couldn’t help but giggle. After all her hubbub Maeve had given about seeing Keaten, she hadn’t had one problem with it, well once she was clothed anyway.
Clare found herself getting more and more excited as she followed the easy contours of the road. Tonight, if Gram and Clare and Mike had their way a new line of Moose Isle Mac Ardles was about to be born with the McGuire last name.
Even though she never said it, Clare could tell that Maeve was ready to settle down. It was the little things that let it show, like how distracted she had gotten at the super market when the young mother walked by with her newborn baby. Or when they were down at the beach and the father and son duo searching for sea shells became a topic of conversation.
It was time, Clare knew for something to go right in her sister’s love life. She had it charmed with school and work, getting good grade and excellent jobs, but she’d never had it any luck with the men. Clare was going to change that, amendment to her bring the freak out in her sister plan, she was also going to help her have everything.
She was giggling about that when she entered the liquor store and spotted the two young fishermen. She flashed them a bright smile and headed towards the beer. It had always been her drink of choice, her way of proving that she was one of the boys.
“So many choices.” She mumbled to the freezer.
“You’re telling me.” One of the fishermen was standing next to her, grinning down.
“What you got?” she gestured towards the six pack in his hand.
“Just some Heinekens. Where you coming from?”
“My house actually.” It was laced with her usual sarcasm. “Out on
Barton Street
.”
“Nice.” His friend called his name from the front of the store. “Well we live over on Homer, if you feel up for some, fun, tonight.” He began backing away down the aisle, his grin turned devious. “
54 Homer Street
.”
“Maybe.” Clare flirted back; boys can be so much fun.



Chapter 7

When she walked out the front of the store Clare spotted him immediately. Jasper Clay was leaning on her driver’s side door, two teenage skanks talking his ear off. The one wore a purple t-shirt with tight black pants and stood back a little from the car. The other was inches from Jasper, leaning in with a form fitted black top and miniskirt. Both girls had ditzy blonde hair and huge sunglass. The uncomfortable look on his face made Clare laugh and she hung back a second to watch the scene unravel.
“So you’re, like, a doctor?” Ditzy Blond #1 leaned in closer.
“I am.”
“So could you tell me what this is?” she pulled her strap down off her shoulder and leaned in towards him.
“I’m not that type of doctor actually, and that’s a mole.”
“Ewww. What do you mean you aren’t that type of doctor?”
“I have a Doctorate in Anthropology.”
“Oh. What’s that?” Ditzy Blond #2 rolled her eyes and tugged at #1’s arm.
“I study people.”
“Cool.” The girl played with her hair and Clare had enough, “I really like your car.”
She put on her sassiest walk and strutted over.
“You mean his girlfriend’s car.” The quiet girl tugged a little harder on her friend’s arm. Clare moved right between Jasper and the ditzy blonde #1, wrapping her arm tightly around his waste. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey.” He looked down at her, a shit eating grin across his face.
“You always loved the purple.”
“I do.” They gawked at each other with ooey-gooey eyes so fake that Clare had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.
“Jasper, you’re being so rude, introduce me to your new friends!”
She couldn’t tell if ditzy blonde #1 picked up on her sarcasm, but #2 definitely wanted to leave.
“Oh this is…”
But #1 realized before he could get to it that he didn’t in fact know her name, so she interrupted with “Tiffany,” a bright moment in very few, “and this is Megan.”
“Nice to meet you girls, babe we have to get going. My parents have dinner on the table at 6 on the dot and we still have to get back to, umm clean up the bathtub from this morning.” She winked at him slyly. “Come on!” She tapped as his butt and pulled at the driver side door. After she was inside she heard #2 say “Come on!”  And with a mumbled “goodbye” the two were gone and Jasper leaned into her window.
“My knight in shining armor…”
“I do try.” She said in her sweetest voice possible. “How’d you get yourself in that pickle?”
“I have no idea.”
“What are you doing right now?” He looked at her with intense curiosity in his eyes and she met his gaze with one equally mischievous. “Get in.”
There was something about how awkwardly comfortable he looked trying to be cordial to those girls. The way he leaned tenderly on her car with his hands across his chest, trying to keep his frustration at bay. It didn’t take years of flirting to know that when a man leans away, it’s not a good sign. Now when he gets in the car and drives off with you, definitely a good sign. Very Pretty Woman.
They were speeding down Route 2 before Clare even figured out what she even planned to do with him. All this talk of love had made her frisky and on an island this size she figured she can find somewhere secluded they could grope like teenagers in heat. She’d never really hesitated when she knew what she wanted, and in this moment she wanted Jasper.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere.”
“Enlightening.”
Clare eyed his knee next to her, his fingers drummed slowly on the denim. She knew exactly what it was that made him so tempting to her, the fact that he was the complete opposite of everything she had ever dated in the past. Clare was one for the stoic fairly feminine types, the artist, the musician, the actor. If he shared his emotions through any form of expression, had tattoos covering his body or piercing on any portion of his person, Clare was absolutely drawn to him. Clare wasn’t one for relationships; she was one for friendships with benefits. Boys were too messy and an obligation she didn’t need. If she never stuck around long then she didn’t have to witness the fall out.
She pulled down the driveway of one of the many beaches on the island. Excellent, she thought, apparently the late afternoon hour made this hot spot less hot then usual. She tucked the car into a corner and giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Jasper asked no concern in his voice. He’d driven off with a near stranger and they were now parked hidden from the road on an island with no cops. She could be crazy for all he knew. She partially was.
“I was just thinking about how many kids have pulled into this very spot to get it on.”
“Is that what we’re doing here?”
Clare thought back to last time she’d had sex, it was right before Christmas. She had gone home with the bassist from a band she had gone to see with friends. He was nice, but not much more. Poor Malcolm had called every day for two weeks, but after she’d left his bed she was done. There had been something that night that made her realize it was time to turn over a new leaf, something in the coldness of a touch that should have been warm. She had gone through the motions, but where lust had once taken the place of heart, there was nothing. It was time, for Clare, to wait it out for someone special.
Jasper Clay was nothing special, but it had been too long. She figured she had to take safety breaks every once in a while to keep from a complete relapse.
Looking across Jasper’s lap, Clare was ecstatic about her smaller form.
“Stay.” Hopping out of the car, she ran around the back, flipping her head over to fluff up her hair. Clare opened the passenger door and propped one foot up.
“Am I your little pet or something?” Jasper looked up at her out of the corner of his eye.
“You have no idea.” And with one swift movement Clare climbed inside the Saturn and straddled him.
“Apparently not,” he took a deep breath and let it out. Clare could feel it on her neck; maybe she wasn’t as tiny as she thought. She pulled back a bit so she could look at him, just for a while. He was strikingly beautiful, she might as well soak it all in before her eyes were closed and her lips were biting his ear.
For a moment time stopped. There eyes met and it was all that clichéd crap that Clare tried so hard to avoid. She felt like she knew every part of him. He was a good man, she could tell that by the fact that his hands lay on the top of her thighs and not any other of the numerous places they could roam. And he was shy too, that was apparent by the shock and embarrassment that had been in his eyes. Her heart did something funny and it made her breath catch in her chest. She didn’t like it, so she kissed him.
She tried to make it urgent, sexual, reckless, but he wouldn’t let her. He slowed her down; put his fingers in her hair. Every inch of him was passionate but his fingertips and lips, they were tender on her skin, wanting more but not wanting time to move too quickly. She had the sudden inkling to melt into him and Clare pulled away; usually she was halfway to home base by now. He pulled her close and began kissing her ear and neck.
At that point she’d had enough. Clare sat up as much as she could in the cramped space and cracked her head on the roof of the car.
“Ow! Damnit!”
Jasper laughed and she glared down at him.
“Stop acting like a dork and figure out a way to take your pants off.” She toyed with her belt buckle, not sure why her hands were shaking.
“No.” Her head shot up again and another thud echoed through the small car.
“What?” she rubbed at the knot that was now growing on the back of her head.
“I’m not going to have sex with you inside a purple Saturn.” He looked around at the tight squeeze they were in. “I’m not even sure it would be possible.”
“Fine.” She didn’t even take the time to let her humiliation set in. She climbed off of him directly into the driver seat. “Close the door.”
They were back in the parking lot of the liquor store in a matter of minutes; Clare had pushed the Saturn close to 70 on the 45 miles per hour road.
He leaned across the passenger seat and pressed his lips to her ear.
“When we have sex Clare, now that I know it’s a definite option, we will be in my bed, after a real date and possibly a little impaired by an extremely expensive bottle of wine. And that’s a promise.” He kissed her on the cheek and climbed out of the car.
Clare sped off the minute the door clicked closed. What the fuck had just happened?

Maeve was all aglow when Clare got back and she wanted to punch her in the face. When she came up to the house her sister was pulling weeds, rocking out to Sheryl Crow with a huge goofy smile on her face. So what? She’d been reunited with Mr. Right, the rest of us don’t give a shit. Sickening.
Clare slipped by hoping the music had drowned out her car engine. Even though she wasn’t all about the happy right now, she didn’t want to bring her sister down. Maeve had been mooning for eight years; Clare’s crappy moods came and went. But this one was brought on by Jasper Clay, the uptight mama’s boy probably raised on the Upper East Side being spoon fed by silver… spoons.
Clare took a moment to breath, it didn’t help. She took another deep breath and headed into the kitchen, threw the beers in the fridge and pulled out a cold one from the back. Without hesitation she cracked it open on the counter top and began chugging it down. It was the most refreshing thing she had ever drank, the cool carbonation dancing down her throat while the hops popped on her tongue. The brew was nearly gone before she came up for air.
“Jesus Clare, you want a funnel?”
“Actually, yeah.” She took some final gulps and turned to open the fridge. “You mind driving tonight?”
“Not at all.” Maeve gave a slight laugh and grabbed an apple off the counter. “Gonna get loaded?”
“That’s the idea.” She took another sip and glared across at her sister, still glowing.
“Want to talk about it?”
 “Nope.”
Clare trekked up the stairs, stopping half way up to poor some more beer down her throat. She dug her camera out from under a pile of clothes and turned to look at her space. It needed something, that’s what she would work on tomorrow. Covering the walls with her photos, but right now she needed another beer.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Operation: Friendship Salvation

Advice For You To Take or Leave. I know I change the title every week... get over it.

So today's question is about amore. Oooo lala blech. A reader asked me if it's possible to care for, even love someone but not want to be with them? And further how do you tell that person that now is just not the right time?

I feel like there is a lot more to this story so I guess I'll just add that these two have dated for over 2 years & broke up about 4 months ago & their mutual friends stuck their big huge noses in and caused a sh*t ton of drama. Over the past few weeks/months though, now that they are living in separate states, they have kept very close with one another via phone. But now he wants her to move closer to him, possibly in with him.

She actually asked this question over the phone yesterday & because I'm a frickin' busy body who has the man-gene of wanting to fix everything I actually talked her down then. But just in case anyone out there is going through the same thing, here's is an instant replay of what I had to tell her yesterday. Well less instant, more a novelette.

First of all I know exactly how you feel sister!!! (Please refer to The Definition of Fine) It is absolutely possible, plausible, gonna happen in your life time that you can have been in love with someone, possibly still in love with that someone and the timing just isn't right. I thought that was an old wives tale myself, but I'm telling your right now it's absolutely true.

Now that we got that out of the way, I'm gonna tell you that 4 months is a long time, especially when the amount of drama that happened to you is involved. So therefore, neither of you are the same person anymore. So even though you're off on this new scary adventure & falling back into what's comfortable sounds reeeeealllllllyyyy tempting. Do not do it. Because it's not going to be what you thought it would be & then things are going to be even more facacdaad. You're not the same you & if he even is still the same him... isn't he the him that you passed on a few months back? Trust me I would rather stay in my PJ all the time too, but when my favorite pair of sweats rips in the crotch, I can't wear them anymore. What was broken back then isn't fixed now, it just looks that way through your nostalgia glasses.

You guys have a nice little friendship thing going now, which I give you mad props on. But one or both of you is still hoping for the "bad for you", that things will magically fall into place and you will get back together. Which, at this point is not right. Maybe 3, 4, 5 years down the line, but not right now. But I'll tell you this, if you keep up this talking every day, still using pet names BS, the minute one of you finds someone else, the opportunity for a friendship is a goner! The other person is going to be so hurt that they aren't going to be able to see anything but red. So my suggestion is to back off for a while. Talk maybe once or twice a week. Set those boundaries, they're important if the friendship is going to stay intact.

And that is exactly what you can say to him. Make it about you (men like that) say that you would be really hurt if he found someone else & that he knows how that feels bc of (blacked out undisclosed information). And that you both need time to rediscover who you are without that other person. Or, do what I did, take the lame way out and back off for a while. They'll hopefully get the point.

Will it suck for you as much as it sucks for them? yes. But in the long run it will be for the best. Trust me on that one, personal experience.

So I guess I'm just trying to say if you want to salvage what is left of your best friendship, you need to set the boundaries. You need to tell him absolutely that you moving in with him is out of the questions, though moving closer in a separate apartment is not. But even that will not be for a long time. Let him know that although you do still truly care about him, maybe even love him, right now you're not in love with him. That's important for him to understand, the difference between those two things. You can throw him a "maybe someday" bone if you would like to, but it's not entirely necessary. I promise, he's already thinking that anyway.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Something I Can Do...

I have an oven burn on my arm. It's super tiny, about 2 inches above my wrist. I got it on Friday night while making pizza at home. Why am I so proud of this little burn?

I think that it makes me feel accomplished. Does that even make sense? It's like, "here, I may not have anything else in my life worked out, but I can cook. I can take a recipe & figure it out & be happy while eating it."

It's like everything else in my life is all over the place, I have 3 possibly 4 jobs, but I can make a pizza. I can cook an asparagus, mushroom, plum tomatoes, sausage & chicken with cream based sauce & bowties meal and it is delicious. I can do that. Maybe I'll make Mondays New Recipe Day. Ehh I don't want to label myself, but I will make at least one day a week New Recipe Day. How does that sound kids?

Disclaimer: I make no promises that these recipes will be healthy ones.

Cause cooking is something I can do & do right.

The worst/best part about it is I get it from my mother.

I need a question for tomorrow. Come on people, don't leave me hanging.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Kicking a Cheerio that I Just Can't Find

I'm blogging from my phone today because my computer is being a little asshole.

It's just annoying... your whole purpose is to work. So please do.

I had an interesting & fun weekend. Saturday I visited with long lost friends from my Jellybean days. Its so amazing how every time we see each other we fall back into rhythm without missing a beat. Thats a super cool thing to have in your life.

Then I worked a catered event at night and it was a lot of fun. The hosts of the party were very fun & nice and all I had to do was stay on top of things so they didn't have to. Pretty easy.

Yesterday we went to the Biergarten in Jersey City for a few friends birthdays. It was fun, minor drama but crisis was diverted. I wish I lived closer cause this place was just really cool. But it did make me really nostalgic for Glasgow. I guess I just miss that layed back nothing to do atmosphere. It just seems like even if you have a full time job, over there its just an easier concept or something. I dont know. Maybe I'm just babbling.

Sorry I feel like this post is kind of boring. My brain is kind of wonky from the beers & my random bitchfest. Haha when we went to leave I was just done & drunk & refused to take the lightrail back to Hoboken bc I had bought a roundtrip on the Path. It was kind of ridiculous but for some reason it just annoying me. I dont have money to sling around but yet I just dropped 65 bucks on beers. Haha. I think I was just being difficult. It can sometimes be in my nature.

In other news... I just want to sleep.

Friday, June 3, 2011

It. Gets. Better.

I'm getting kind of discouraged. There's a reason why I don't try to make change happen and that's because I get really depressed when it doesn't go the way I hoped & dreamed. I started this petition to get the New York Mets to make an "It Gets Better" video but now I don't know where to go.

I  have nearly 200 signatures which is what I've been told can put you in the running to be a featured petition on the front page of their website. But now I'm dried up, no one else will sign my petition. That's not true, I guess I've just run out of options. I need help.

Here is where my un-involvement with the community is biting me in the butt. There's a reason I stay out of political debate & argument & a reason why I can't bring myself to volunteer for any gay rights organizations & a reason why I rarely held my gf hands in public.

I'm too weak. I'm tough everywhere else but I'm to week to deal with your ignorance & your hatred. Even when I was a kid I couldn't stand movies with people who were hurtful just to be hurtful. And it's even worse when it's not directed at me, cause I know me, I know how I will react and how I will survive.

But if I had been walking down the street with my gf and some moron spewed their ignorance at me, I would have broken. I would have yelled back a rebuttal that would make no impact on them at all, then I would have cried for the next few days.

Because people refuse to see anything but what they want to see. The Bible may say that you are not to lie with another man, but it also says that a wife is to be subservient & that you shouldn't have sex with your goat. One of those things is just ridiculous advice and the other is a little obvious, I'll let you decide which is which. And I'm a Christian. A Christian who knows the difference between right and wrong.

Anyway, I guess I hoped that more people would jump on the Human Kindness train. Which is what I've been asking people... I've been saying "If you're a fan of Human Kindness..." Because not everyone is a fan of the Mets (WHATTTT???) and not everyone is a fan of equal rights for homosexuals (WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE???) but everyone should be a fan of kindness. And everyone should be a fan of helping kids get through those rough years, because my God... does It. Get. Better.

I'm still working on that last part.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Isn't New Chapter Day Like Christmas???

I might as well turn this into 2 New Chapters Day because I can never bring myself to only send you 1. Happy reading!


Dockside
By Janice McCrostie
Chapter 4

After Clare had categorically gone through every word said with Jasper Clay that morning, she headed out to find a job of her own. Considering that she was planning on starting with Ramona’s she didn’t have to go so far.
“Hi!” she said, in the most chipper of voices. The sixteen year old behind the cash register looked up. “Who could I speak to about possibly getting a job?”
She leaned over the counted just enough that her boobs pushed up towards the boy.
“Uh.” He stuttered. “Mom!”
Clare stood up; leave it to her to already screw up her odds for a job just in her introduction.
A short round woman with bright red hair came through the swinging doors from the kitchen, Ramona. The boy gestured to Clare and slipped back through the doors.
“Hi!” Clare decided to start with the same bright opener. “I was wondering if you were looking for any more help this year?”
“You got experience waiting tables?”
“I did some back in high school, yeah.”
“Not interested. I need someone with experience.”
“I’m a quick learner! And I’m charming.”
“Sorry.” And Ramona was back in the kitchen before Clare could get another word out.
Nice, Clare thought, great start.
Coming out to the parking she let out a long sigh, considering that was one of only three restaurants on the island she didn’t think she would have much luck elsewhere, especially without experience. She decided to just deal with the consequences and drove straight to the hotel. After five minutes with the manager Clare had the job cleaning rooms at the hotel five days a week. It was a pretty sweet gig considering there were only 10 rooms in the whole hotel, so even on the days that she had to work it would be a short day.
Clare was excited for her new job, yeah it wasn’t exactly something to write home about, but it was something. She had taken initiative and gotten results. This meant that it was time to celebrate; it was time for ice cream.
Stayton was at the beginning of tourist season; therefore driving a car down
Main Street
was a battle. There were “out of towners” walking in front of your car without hesitation and little to no parking. She finally found a spot at the end of town near the firehouse. As Clare walked toward the ice cream shop it all sunk in. She was finally here; ready to live her life as she planned. Relaxed, no pressure, no one telling her how wrong she was at every corner. This was going to be her time.
As she inched toward the front of the line she remembered being here with her parents. Even when she was six years old her mother had passed judgments on her. When she wanted two scoops with sprinkles, chocolate and whipped cream she was asked if she wanted to get fat. At six she could tell that she would never be what her mother wanted her to be. Maybe that was part of the reason she had decided to be the polar opposite. When she turned ten and saw that her big sister was going along with the charade it set her resolve. Maeve had fallen victim to her mother’s tyranny but she would not. And when she was old enough and strong and brave enough she would make her sister show her freak side.
Clare ordered a coffee ice cream, two scoops and walked out to the benches that overlooked the ocean. Yup, she was going to make her big sister come out of her shell and she was going to start by getting the dish on Keaten McGuire. And the best way to do that was to start at the source. Clare looked at her watch and did some quick mental math. If he went out at then he would probably be coming back in around or 4:00. Unless it was a good day then it would be longer. She decided on the only solution, she’d have to go wait at the docks for Keaten. Time to give him a nice little shock.

Maeve walked into Estelle’s shop at on the dot. Something about the woman made her certain that being early or late wasn’t an option. Estelle sat behind the cash register intently reading a book that Maeve could not make out. Without looking up she gave out her order by padding her hand on a stack of books.
“Put these away.”
Maeve grabbed the books and headed deeper into the shop. “Away” seemed to be a hypothetical, because there was no order to the shop at all. Reading the covers she did the best she could to put them in the same general area with other like themes. She heard Estelle talking with someone at the front of the store and peeked around a shelf to see a boy, about 7 years old, sitting on the counter chatting away.
This job was going to be perfect. People watching and hearing all the town gossip was the perfect inspiration to keep her writing. Listening to all the ins and outs of small town life, plus the tourist’s vacation drama, was going to make things a lot simpler. Of course she didn’t have any idea yet what her story was going to be about, but it would come to her.
“Maeve, come on up here!” Estelle shouted from the front of the store, causing Maeve to jump and almost knock over a stack of books.
When she came around the corner she gave a big smile to the small boy on the counter. He was the stereotypical island boy, wearing a tattered shirt and old blue jeans, his dark hair long and in his eyes. But there was something familiar about the boy and he was looking at her with the same inquisitive stare.
Jackson is purchasing this pack of bubble gum and I wanted you to see how the cash register works.”
“Oh, great.” Maeve leaned slightly over the counter to watch as Estelle pound numbers into the register. It seemed basic and she wasn’t really worried. The drawer popped open and Estelle turned to hand Jackson his change, but he wasn’t paying attention. He still sat staring at Maeve.
Jackson?” Estelle said it with a tenderness Maeve hadn’t been blessed with yet. The boy snapped out of it, grabbed his change and hopped off the counter. He yelled a thank you over his shoulder as he ran out the door. “Odd.” Estelle noted.
“He seemed like a very sweet boy.”
“The best they come.” Estelle seemed distracted. “We’ll there’s my son, you think you can last the hour with out sending me to the poor house.”
“I think I’ll manage.” Maeve saw the first sign of approval cross the old woman’s face.
“Was that the McGuire boy I saw running out of here like a bat out of hell?” Ricky Montrose stood in the doorway.
“Sure was. No idea what’s gotten into him.” And the two were gone out the door.
Maeve had an idea what had gotten to him. Could it have been? And if that boy was Keaten’s son, how would he have known who Maeve was. But the way he looked at her, in his own seven year old way, was with complete recognition.
Maeve leaned back on the counter and breathed out. “Well, shit.”

Clare leaned on the Saturn and nibbled at her ice cream. She blatantly ignored glances from tourist as to where she was parked, along the dockside under a no parking sign. Of course all the islanders passed without a look, they have all pulled up into that exact same spot doing the exact same thing. Waiting for someone they loved to punch out from their workday on the sea.
She bent her head from side to side to stretch her neck, than pulled her right arm across her chest. The day was surprisingly hot for mid May and she was happy she had opted for her cut off shorts and pink wife beater. Though it clung to her, the breeze felt good and the ice cream was a big help. Also, she didn’t mind the stares from town’s boys and tourist boys alike, it made her feel young again.
She’d been waiting for twenty minutes when the engine of an outboard caught her attention.
Mike climbed out first and noticed Clare, flashing a big smile. When Keaten came into view, she knew exactly what her sister had seen in him, but in tenfold. The years had been good to the man. Working on the boat had kept him in excellent shape, muscles moved seamlessly as he hauled his work bag onto his shoulders. The sun had worked its magic and every inch of visible flesh was tan. Keaten’s brown hair curled out from under a Boston Red Sox’s cap and the features on his face hadn’t changed much in five years since Clare had seen him. His eyes were still a deep chocolate brown set apart by a smooth rounded nose. And his mouth was the type that most woman fantasized about, big round lips chapped slightly red by the wind. The two men started up the ramp and Clare pushed herself off the car, the show was about to start.
“To what do we owe this honor?”
“Oh I just thought I would swing by, see how the day went.”
Keaten was obviously confused but too much of a gentleman to ask. Or he was just worried that his dad had gone from dating a grandma to dating someone he could have fathered.
“You don’t recognize one inch of me, do you Keaten McGuire?”
He looked up from his work bag, glancing slyly up from Clare’s purple painted toes to platinum blond hair. He scanned back down to her eyes and stopped.
“Clare Mac Ardle!” He dropped what was in his hand and ran at her for a bear hug. “What are you doing here?”
Clare glanced over at Mike.
“You sly dog Mike; I thought you would have said something!” The look on Mike’s face made Clare wonder if there was a reason he hadn’t. But her plan to ‘freak up’ her sister took precedence. “I’ve moved up here for a while, a year or so, with my sister.” She said the last three word precise, then waited for his response.
His face grew blank and pained. Clare hadn’t expected that, she hadn’t expected him to hurt.
“Your sister’s here?”
“Yeah, yes.” Slightly flustered Clare turned and pointed. “She works at Estelle’s actually. Thanks to your dad.”
“Huh.” Keaten looked down at his hand, wiping them together as if brushing something off. He picked up his bag and began walking toward his truck. “Come on Pop, good to see you Clare.”
Mike gave nod of his head and followed after his boy. The two got in the Chevy and drove off towards home, leaving Clare standing at the docks.
The dust hadn’t even settled by the time Clare was in her car headed over to the shop. She whipped into the spot right out front of the shop and threw open the door. Throwing her keys on the seat she called out her sister’s name and popped up into the door frame.
“Hi.” Maeve was sitting behind the makeshift counter, looking worse for wear. Obviously she had an interesting afternoon as well. “What’s up?”
“Oh, not too much, just ran into Keaten.”
“Did you? That’s nice.”  Maeve turned and busied herself with nothing.
Clare circled the counter and stood right in front of her sister.
“Maeve, when I told him you were here he looked, beat up. It was kind of pathetic really, like a teenager being told he can’t have the car on the night he was sure to get laid. Any idea what that’s about?”
“No, I have no idea.” She picked up some books and moved towards the back of the store, Clare followed.
“You don’t even know where those go; you’re just trying to avoid the question!”
“I do so know where they go, they belong over here.” Plopping the books down on a shelf she tried to make her escape around the other side.
“You know if we’re going to live together for a whole year, you’re gonna have to learn how to be honest with me. Do the whole chick thing, chat about our periods and shit. It’s gonna be good.” Clare hoped up on the counter where Jackson had been earlier. “Maeve, you’re going to tell me eventually, so you might as well just get it out now.”
A customer swept into the shop and two women fell silent. As the older gentleman perused the books Clare leaned over and whispered in her sister’s ear.
“Tonight, B&B, Pizza, beer and you telling me what’s the what.”


Chapter 5

When Maeve got back to the B&B Clare was no where to be found. Maybe she would dodge this bullet and not have to tell her sister how Keaten McGuire had been the first in a downward spiral of disappointments in a life that was supposedly blessed. It always seemed that way, with everything that happened to her, Maeve was simply waiting for the bottom to fall out.
Perhaps that’s why she wasn’t so shocked when Sam had told her that he’d changed his mind and didn’t really love her. That when he’d proposed after 3 years of dating it was simply out of obligation, because it seemed like the thing to.
Maeve remembered looking him square in the eyes and saying, “I’m not all that surprised Sam, I was always waiting for you to break my heart.”
In return he looked her square in the eye and said, “Exactly the reason it never worked out, Maeve.” and left her standing there on the beach where they were supposed to be saying “I do.” Maeve had set to work the next day, calling her mother and sister first, apologizing for dresses bought and offering honeymoon tickets as retro pay. Then the three women got to work making phone calls to family members. The responses were all the same, “But why?” and “Oh, Maeve honey, are you ok?”
When Clare had made the call to Sam, to make sure he was doing his part with cancellation calls, she’d made her sister blush.
“Hey what’s going on you son of a bitch,” had been Clare’s opening line. Sometimes Maeve wondered who was more upset, her or her sister. She knew that Clare had never liked Sam but wouldn’t say anything. Perhaps that was why Clare was so angry, she felt like if she has said something sooner Maeve wouldn’t be hurting so much.
She walked to the window and glanced outside, it was and Clare wasn’t back yet. I swear to God, Maeve thought, if she did something stupid I will NEVER forgive her.
That’s exactly what it was. The anxiety that Clare had gone off the deep end and went to retrieve Keaten was driving her insane. Mostly because it was totally something her crazy sister would do. What was she thinking would happen? Some grand reunion of the two, meant to be after all these years. The though made her sick to her stomach.
Maeve had resigned to herself a year ago that she would never again base any portion of her life on anyone else, let alone a man. It wasn’t that she was bitter; she was just tired of playing the victim, so she would stop setting herself up for the crime.
If she didn’t get involved then there would be no consequences, no hurt feelings.
But at the same time, she felt herself waiting for something to change.
Just then Clare came bustling through the door, carrying a 12 pack of Sam Adams in one hand and balancing a pizza in the other.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!”
Maeve looked at her sister, there was one person she was tired of hiding from, tired of pretending with. And looking at her kid sister, bouncing through the door, not a care in the world she knew what she had to do. And maybe when she was done, she would feel the invisible weight lifting off her shoulders and maybe she could be more like the sister she envied.
Without hesitation Maeve unloaded the entire story to her sister, sparing no details. From the mess of flesh and clothes in the front seat of his truck, to the night at his apartment when she’d given herself to him. How she listened, horror struck from in front of the refrigerator and the real reason she cried in her sisters lap all those summers ago.
“I’m not blaming him,” she continued. “I don’t believe in victimizing myself. But it changed me, for the good and for the bad. I am who I am; a stronger person and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, Keaten McGuire broke a little piece of me back then and as much as I’ve grown, through Sam and everything, I’m just not ready to deal with it all yet. Does that make sense?”
Clare stared, awe struck. Her sister had never shared so much with her.
Making certain that she’d heard, Maeve repeated herself. “Does that make sense, Clare?”
“Oh, I’m still clocked in; I just didn’t expect it to be that easy. I didn’t even crack open a beer yet. I thought I would have at least gotten a few in you!”
Maeve threw a pillow across and it hit her sister square in the face.
“I’m too famished and sober for a pillow fight just yet, let’s have pizza and beer and go toilet paper the high school.”
She dropped the now cooled pizza down on the bed and both sisters climbed up. Clare grabbed her key chain and used the bottle cap to pop open two beers. She handed one to Maeve, then titled her own towards her sister’s.
“To finally telling the truth,” Maeve declared.
“I concur,” Clare replied. “Hey I got a job today too! Woo go me!”
And the two fell into the easy rhythm of being sisters and friends.

A week later the girls were settling in nicely to their two bedroom cottage out
Barton Street
. It had all the things that two women living alone would need. A huge deck off the side of the house facing the yard and what used to be, and what Maeve planned on making again, a garden. The screen door from the deck led into a living room which then led into a kitchen with a small table and another entrance. The downstairs was a completely open space with old couches and futons, and a rickety old rocking chair in the corner. Exactly the cozy-ness needed for a Maine cabin. Clare had opted for the attic bedroom, which was fine with Maeve because the room downstairs faced the East and she could watch the sunrise. She had positioned the small desk right in front of the window, so she could look out as she wrote.
She sat there now. It was a lazy Saturday morning and neither of them had to work today. It had taken major persuasion, but Maeve had talked Clare into a hiking as long as she let her sleep in.
Right now that was the least of her problems.
Usually Maeve had thousands of story ideas bouncing around in her head; she even had a composition book dedicated to making notes. But as she flipped through the pages nothing jumped out at her, she couldn’t find her story. Ever since Clare had told her how desolate Keaten had looked when she’d seen him, it was all Maeve could think about. What had age done to him? She hadn’t dared to ask Clare, part of her didn’t want to know. Were there the beginnings of lines around his eyes? Had they made his sadness more apparent? Were they brought on from raising a son or heartache?
She pushed back from the table and went to get another cup of coffee. The full pot was a permanent fixture in the household, once someone finished it they had to start a new one. House rule number 1, instated by both sisters.
She needed to stop thinking about him. It had been a week and they had not crossed paths yet. If she had any luck at all, which Maeve usually didn’t, that would keep up. She heard the thump thump thump of her ogre-esc sister coming down the stairs and poured a second cup of coffee.
Clare rounded the bottom of the stairs and looked across the room at her sister’s outstretched coffee baring hand.
“You’re a Saint.”
“It’s you tool.”
“Yeah but you weren’t up until trying to get the night shots that have been imbedded in your brain all week.” She coned her fingers and tapped at her head with exaggerated frustration.
“Porch?”
“Porch.”
Every morning that the girls had down time they spent on the porch. They hadn’t realized how much they had in common. Like how they’d both read the Harry Potter books 5 times and went to showings of the movies, or how vodka sauce was their favorite type of Italian cuisine. So that was what lazy mornings were for, figure out more about the person they should be closest with.
It had evolved into an on going game of 20 questions.
“What is your favorite movie?” Clare began.
“Now that’s not fair, you have to put it into segments. Favorite 80’s movie, favorite kid’s movie, favorite love story, favorite sci fi...”
“Ok! Ok! Gosh! Favorite love story?”
“The Notebook.” Maeve sent her sister an inquisitive look.
“Benny and Joon.”
Now the ball was in Maeve’s court and she squinted up her face trying to think of a good question.
“What’s your favorite thing to do on a Saturday morning?”
“Sleep.”
“Seriously? I love to get up and sit with a cup of coffee and just veg.” She glanced down at her cup. “Huh would you look at that?”
“Alright I’m up…” Clare pondered what would be the perfect question. “What is… what is something that you do alone that no one else knows about?”
“Well now you’re getting dirty.”
Clare stared at her sister for a second, but then again these little outburst were happening more and more often.
“Trust me everyone knows about that.” Both women dissolved into un interrupted hysterics. “No, for real. Something that no one else will ever know about but me, I want to know.”
Maeve thought for a moment, there was something. She hadn’t done it in a while; the last time was shortly after Sam had left her. That day was when she finally gave up the pain and started living her life again. Why shouldn’t she tell Clare?
“Alright,” she sat forward in her chair. “Oh gosh I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this.” Maeve hid her face behind her free hand, her coffee teetering in the other.
A huge smile broke across Clare’s face. “Now I have to know!”
“Gaa! Ok. Sometimes when I have my music playing, there is one song that I kind of, strip to.”
“What!?” and Clare couldn’t get any more out, she was laughing too hard.
“Oh gee thanks, I’m so happy I shared.”
“No! No!” Clare breathed out between hick-ups “No! I think it’s amazing! I feel so akin to you right now. What song is it!?”
Maeve stood up and swept back into the living room. “Nope! Not going to happen.” She tried to slide the door closed behind her but Clare caught it.
“Come on Maeve! Come on! I’ll tell you my weird thing, I pick at my toes. There now you have mine.”
“Shut up.”
“I play video games until 4 in the morning.”
“Knew that!”
“Maeve, please. I have to know! I will die without knowing!” at this point Clare had followed her into the kitchen and was now begging her in front of the sink. “Just tell me who it’s by. Even better let’s do it!”
The though was extremely enticing to Maeve, part of her knew it was crazy but another part of her was ready to let it fly. “Fine.” She sat next her coffee cup into the sink. “I’ll go put it on.”
Clare followed her into the living room, anticipation was driving her crazy. Maeve returned to the room carrying her iPod and iHome.
“Alright you ready!” She couldn’t even believe she was as into it as she was. The first Saturday of their adventure was quickly moving far away from the person Maeve used to be and she loved it. She could feel everything moving closer to comfortable.
The drum filled base riff of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” escaped the speakers and Maeve began moving her hips. Clare watched her sister move in ways she wasn’t sure she could bend, and then to her shock, Maeve began unbuttoning her top. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said strip. So Clare began to sway and dropped her robe off her shoulders.
The two sisters continued through the sensual song, slowly losing layers of close. From time to time giggles would escape their lips as they caught sight of the others sexy dance move.
“I didn’t know this song was so long!” Clare exclaimed, moving her hips to the piano notes. “I think you have a future in this business.”
“Ha!” the song cooled to an end. The two sisters stood in there underwear. Clare in a white camisole and Rainbow Bright undies, Maeve in a pink Victoria’s Secret bra and light blue boy shorts.
Clare’s face quickly changed. “Oh.”
“What?” That was when Maeve noticed Clare staring over her shoulder, out onto the
deck. She didn’t want to turn, but had to. Keaten McGuire stood, framed in the doorway,
with a look of utter surprise and a bit of enjoyment on his face.