Just Call Me Miss Mary Lou Joe Jean

I started writing a post last Sunday while I was at my parent's house hanging out with some friends, playing Uno and watching V for Vendetta. I never finished it and I'm probably not going to finish this one just because it's close to the end of the day and I am tired. Being tired right now is not really an option though because, well there's still 2.5 more hours until the end of the day, but more importantly, CAMA kids starts tonight.

CAMA Kids: Christian And Missionary Alliance Kids: A sort of VBS, but held the first Friday night of every month during the winter instead of every morning for a week. I, being the Good Smaritan unable-to-say-no person that I am, will be teaching the third grade class. The third grade, mostly boy class. Joy. The theme for this year is a mix between County Fair/Down on the Farm. I'm totally borrowing one of my mom's square dancing outfits for this one. I'm gonna tell my kids to call me Miss Mary Lou Joe Jean. Don't get me started. Don't even get me started. You may laugh, but that's what ya gotta do to keep those dang kids entertained. So, on that note, this is Miss Mary Lou Joe Jean signing out.

Story on Persistant Jamaican Cooks Who Can't Take No For An Answer coming up.

To Date or Not To Date?

One more hour at the Wequassett before I get to go home to my wonderfully comfortable, down comforter and down mattress pad bedecked bed. It's been a long 15 hour day and I'm grabbing a short respite back on the switchboard so I can actually sit down and collect my thoughts.

I was supposed to work last night and have tonight off, but clearly my schedule request was not honored. I'm not sure how much I minded having a night off between my two 15-hour days, though. Especially since Danielle's night off is Wednesday as well and that means some much needed roomie time. *

Last night our roomie time ** consisted of watching an episode of Dog the Bounty Hunter (don't be a hater) and two episodes of Party of Five, Season Three. This, as all you Pof5 fans know, is the season where Bailey becomes an alcoholic. Intense does not describe it and Dani and I often forget to breath while grasping each other in sweaty......suspense! Sheesh, what did you think I was going to say? I mean, we're close, but not that close.

When all is said and done, we had to tear ourselves away from the box set and go to bed. I believe there's only something like 4 episodes left on the DVD and Season 4 won't be coming out until after the New Year. How will we survive, you ask? By purchasing the first 3 seasons of 90210. Have I mentioned that we've also purchased and watched the first and only season (why, oh why, did they only create one season?) of My So-Called Life and are working our way through Life Goes On? The problem with these amazing shows is that it takes so long to put them into box sets. And yet, before the season has even ended, they have Grey's Anatomy and Law & Order SVU for everyone's viewing pleasure while Dani and I are left waiting with baited breath for the next season of amazing, classic melodramas to come out. It must have something to do with switching from analog to digital format. Whatever it is, they best get cracking so we can continue our addiction.

Add to this our addiction to NES and you have for some serious quality time. Maybe this is the reason why I'm still single....speaking of which, one of our Jamaican cooks at the resort asked me out tonight. My response was flustered and confused and I in no way gave him a straight answer. I have no idea what to tell him. He's attractive, but I tend to chicken out of dates of any kind. I'm not sure why. It all boils down to knowing exactly what I want and writing off anyone who does not meet that criteria.

I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but I'm pretty sure it's a not-so-bad thing that I'd rather go home, curl up in my aforementioned comfortable bed and just fall asleep. That is, of course, after I finish watching the last four episodes of Party of Five.

Seriously, don't be a hater.

*Technically we're not roommates, we're apartment mates. But, let's face it, that's just too burdensome to type out every dang time.
**If we want to get even more technical, Danielle and I have been friends for over 20 years, so the whole sharing an apartment thing is not what defines our friendship in the least.

Memories sans Barbara Streisand

Every time I travel back to Western PA it feels like coming home. As much as I fight it, I love the sight of the Highmark building, all the bridges spanning the three rivers, the trolley cars on the incline going up and down. As much as I love Boston more, Pittsburgh is safe for me, it's familiar, and it's home of so many memories.

Visiting friends from college and seeing the city again made me incredibly nostalgic. So much so, in fact, that I keep revisiting the idea of moving out there. Maybe it's just because I'm looking for a change of pace. Maybe because so many of my friends are still there. Maybe it's because the cost of living is so much more affordable. Maybe because, after two and a half years, I'm finally realizing that Western Pennsylvania really isn't all that bad (aside from the fact that there's no ocean).

After arriving in Waynesburg, Heidi and I took a short drive back to that little campus on the hill. I haven't been on campus for over a year and to say that I wasn't affected would be a gross underexageration.

Heidi parked outside of the Stover Campus Center and we went inside for old times sake. I still remember my mail box number and everything is so painfully familiar. The feelings that were pulsing through me with every beat of my heart are so hard to put into words. I was all-at-once overwhelmed and nostalgic and sad and grateful and...so many other things. There is not one nook on that campus where I don't have a memory. Even the little things like walking to Buhl Hall everyday or slipping on the college seal in the middle of the Quad or walking through the parks and swimming in the fountain came out in my memory in sharp relief to the fact that I will never again have those experiences. No matter how many reunions I have with college friends, we will never again all be in that community and living together so closely. It's a strange sensation and even stranger that it's hitting me over two years later. I'm glad that we were there at night. I'm not sure I would've been able to handle walking around during the day and not recognizing any faces and not having any faces recognize me. I wonder if my picture when I was Titania is still on Eddie's door in the Performing Arts Center?

After that brief run-in with the ghosts of my memories, I couldn't have asked for a better weekend. I saw everyone I wanted to see and then some and that's all that I can really ask for. The reality of an hour and a half plane ride and a more expendable income is making me giddy.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

You gotta love John Candy and Steve Martin...hopefully none of their escapades will happen to me while I'm traveling by train, by car, and by plane to and from Pittsburgh this weekend.

Despite my inherent need to stress about packing every single time I travel, I am extremely excited to see all my college friends again. Granted, the seven-hour train ride to meet Heidi in Baltimore might be a little rough—maybe I should bring my copy of War & Peace—but, the subsequent four-hour car ride with her back to Pittsburgh will be fabulous, I assume.

Other items of excitement: C-Crew reunion 3.0! Seeing the amazing Kimmie! Lunch with my Twinner! The infamous not-for-long-to-be-known-as Miss Sanders wedding shower! And of course, getting a day off work!

And with that, I've filled my exclamation point quoto for the month. Yes, the excessive use of exclamation points annoy the crap out of me. And yes, I take great pride in being a grammar snob.

I'm bringing my laptop to PA, so I'll try to stay in touch over the weekend; otherwise, look for a blog o' greatness when I return.

FYI

And So It Goes by Billy Joel is one of the saddest songs I've heard...and still makes me stare out the window and wonder....

Ain't Nobody Gonna Get Me Down

I don't like ice in my drinks. Namely because I tend to be a guzzler and ice just gets in the way. In fact, I don't like anything getting in the way of quenching my thirst, so I really only go for water or the occasional unsweetened ice tea. Of course a good ol' Cape Codder never hurt either. However, last night, while watching the Roomie play Zelda, I guzzled a little too much Malibu and Pineapple (with a splash of orange, of course). I wasn't really thinking anything of it except that a night cap sounded like it would go well with the mighty sound of Link's sword slashing through Ganon (ok, so maybe she didn't make it that far). But this morning, my head is thinking otherwise and I am thanking my lucky stars that I don't have to work the second job tonight.

Today's been rough. Add to that a deadline of 4pm to completely finish a postcard I've been working on just started designing today and then turns out my supervisor goes behind my back to get another co-worker to finish it because there are a "few things" that need to be changed instead of just asking me to do it for her since I've been working on it all morning *pauses for breath* and you have for a grumpy pants Christina.

Oh well, only one more hour left to the day and then I'm actually home free with abso-freaking-lutely nothing to do for the rest of the evening. Be still my beating heart! This hasn't happened since the late 90's, I believe, when I was still rocking out my dad's old flannel shirts with a pair of undone overalls and a waffle knit shirt. Yeah, I did that look. Don't be a hater.

BUT! I have to say that yesterday was an extremely good day. Well, yesterday morning was an extremely good morning at least and that is because *drum roll and trumpets* I had an interview!!!

I graduated two years ago with a degree in Communications and since then, I've been working the same job: basically the lackey at a small commercial lending company, working hard to give a leg up to all the small business owners in the community. Commercial lending = numbers. Number + Christina = mayhem. Fortunately, I don't deal much with the numbers side of it. I actually enjoy my job on most days. I get to do all the administrative tasks crap that nobody else does. At least I get to use part of my second option in Public Relations when we have our annual workshop series and I get to pretend to be a special events planner/designer of all print/online material that goes out of the office. However, I've been hankering for something new. Something that's more in my major/motivation for life.

Several weeks ago, I shot off a few e-mails. One went to the managing editor of the weekly newspaper I interned at four years ago and one went to the general manager of one of the local radio stations here on the Cape. I received positive responses from both parties, newspaper editor promising she had some freelance opportunities starting this fall and radio manager saying they had a position open for a weekender. Awesome and awesome.

So, I had my interview at the radio yesterday and, all things considered (the fact I haven't been in front of microphone/done anything remotely radio for four years) it went swimmingly. After the initial interview was over, they had me take a news release and cut it down to radio copy. I was then required to cut together a minute and a half of news for their hourly report. Even though I was initially nervous (aka scared shitless), once I got into it, realized they used Audio Vault and Cool Edit, and created more of a report with my interviewers, I felt great.

They still have other interviews they're conducting, but I am crossing my fingers that this goes through. My boss jokingly said that instead of people asking me, "Have you done any theater lately?" they're going to graduate to, "What are you doing on the radio these days?"

Your mom.

Constellations and Consternation

I saw Orion for the first time on Wednesday night. He was large and low on the horizon, the three stars making up his belt perfectly aligned as I always remember. Orion is my favorite constellation and has been since I was just a wee thing. This was mostly due to the fact that, besides the Big Dipper, he was so easy to find. As I've grown older, Orion takes on a whole new meaning.

He. Is. The. Perfect. Man.

Brave. Strong. Noble. Heroic. Beautiful. Loyal. And the best part: Silent. He was just what I needed to see on Wednesday after a long car ride and an even longer evening of anxiety.

So, I went up to Boston on Wednesday night with my sister and her co-worker, Lexi, to see Lexi's fiance play with his band, Tripping Lily (amazing, amazing, amazing). My Seester and I had been planning this for about a week before the plans fell through three days before the excursion was planned. Since I had already requested Wednesday night off from work, I was trying to figure out what back up plans I could make to avoid sitting alone all night on my couch watching random sitcom re-runs or playing the original Mario Bros. on the sweet original Nintendo system my roommate bought off of e-bay. In the end, I told work on Tuesday night that I was pretty sure I could come in and work the next night, but would let them know for sure the next day.

This brings us to around 10 a.m. on Wednesday morning when I receive a call from Seester telling me that we were in fact going to Boston. Yikes. Just yikes. I'm in no way prepared to go to Boston that night. Besides the four inch stilettos I donned that morning, I was also wearing a skirt and sleeveless shirt which I knew would do nothing to ward off the chill evening air of September in New England. But, being the can't do anything without a plan spontaneous, bold person that I am, I decided to screw the man and go out for a night of fun. I called work and told them to revert to the original schedule. Complete mayhem and confusion ensued and I was yelled at to always alert the manager when there was a schedule change. This caused mayhem and confusion for me because, to the best of my knowledge, the schedule hadn't changed and I was alerting them that I wasn't coming in after all. Was I wrong?*

The funny thing is, even though everything with work was fine and I had the prospect of a great night in Boston, I was stressed about having fun. Is this normal? After a few pep talks by both myself and Seester and borrowing a co-workers cardigan (that went with my outfit!) I was starting to feel better. But, my anxiety only increased when Seester and Lexi were an hour late to pick me up and I realized that I very easily could've run to the ATM to pick up some cash and grab some dinner before they came. The funny thing is is that when I thought that (when they were only a half hour late), I still could've done both those things in time. It's kind of like when you're waiting to make a left-hand turn and there's a car coming in the distance and once you take the time to wait for them to get closer, you think, man, I could've gone when in reality you still could've gone when you were thinking that you could've gone but now you can't? ** What's even worse is when you realize that you could've gone even after you realized you should've gone when you thought you could've gone. I know you know what I'm talking about...and if you don't, you clearly did not grow up in a tourist town.

Regardless of all the previous happenings, I did enjoy myself that night for the most part. Primarily because the band was great and we ate at Fire & Ice. But, driving home at two in the morning with the prospect of a 15 hour work day to commence in the morning made me realize that despite the good food, fellowship, and music, was I just becoming an old fuddy duddy, more content to laze around on the couch, giving Bowzer a lesson, and going to bed at 10 p.m.?

Who knows. But, I told all of this to Orion while I was driving the long stretch between exits 10 & 11. He never gave me an answer. Damn silence.

*Before answering that, take into consideration the fact that I am never wrong. Never.
**Don't hate me for that sentence.

Deluge

We've had a lot of rain/storms here on Cape Cod during the summer. Several weeks ago, during one such storm, my friend/co-worker came down to my office to talk about the rain, to which I said, "Man, it's like a friggin deluge."

I received nothing but this look she gives me everytime I use "big words" (such as cantankerous and monosyllabic). After berating her for not knowing what deluge means, we have a good laugh and go back to work.

Today there's another storm. About 10 minutes ago it starts to pour and I see that my co-worker is calling me. I pick up the phone and say "Deluge," which is met with copious amounts of laughter.

"K, bye" we both say and hang up.

Sometimes I love my office.

Closure

I'm eating my mid-morning snack of Yoplait yogurt. This morning's flavor is Pineapple Upside-Down Cake. Not quite my favorite, but I don't hate it. As I sit here eating, I can't help but remember the one time Ben came to visit when I was still in the Harwichport house and I woke up super early to make him his favorite: pineapple upside-down cake. But, because I was in such a rush to have it all ready to eat by the time he woke up, I burned the syrup bottom and the whole cake was ruined.

When he woke up and came downstairs to the image of me trying to salvage my failed attempt at baking, he laughed and hugged me, took a sample bite and said, "Let's go out to breakfast."

Even though he never acknowledged my feelings and always made me second guess myself, he had his good moments. Granted, after awhile the good times failed to compensate for the bad times.

Unfortunately, his oh-so-wonderfully unexpected e-mail is making me reminisce on these memories. I guess I don't mind suffering through it since after reading (and re-reading) his e-mail, I finally had the determination to throw away all of our old correspondence...all the old e-mails from 10 years ago, all the letters, the cards, and the pictures. Everything. And while I'm tempted to feel a stab of remorse that all of the correspondence from our first attempt at a relationship was so sweet with young love, I keep going back to why I need to hold onto it. Someday down the line I'm going to find a man who matches all my grooves. Why would I want to carry baggage from a past relationship? No, he owned my heart for almost nine years, I'm ready to be done. I've been ready for awhile, but I guess I just never thought of that old box under my bed until his e-mail triggered it.

So, thank you for reaffirming to me that I am, once and for all, completely over you. Hopefully one day you can be the same.

Oh, and for the record, when I was thinking about the pineapple upside-down cake disaster, I did tilt my head and smile. And I tilt it to the right...not the left...so there, he didn't know me that well after all.