So Happy Together

A month. A month and a week. A month and a week of being happy. Who knew!?
I sit here blogging, from my new home. My cat has joined our little happy family and he is quite perplexed by his litter box being next to a heater and the idea of stairs. Franki has never lived in a house with stairs before. But he loves the sunlight, the squirrels , and the mere idea of being around me again.

So it's been a month and now a little bit more than a week- and we're together everyday. And we'd be together more , I think, if we could be. He makes me laugh harder than anyone on the planet. He makes me dinner. I've come home every Sunday to fresh flowers....its insane. 3 Bruce Springsteen Concerts, one trip to the ER (I'll explain later) 2 semi-decent attempts to cook for him , and about 30 some odd nights of going to sleep, safe and blissful....I didn't know I could love someone like this. Or rather, someone could love ME like this. About once a week I wake up after he's left for work and there's a note or some lyrics taped to the mirror and it's always something gorgeous, but I keep telling him I wake up ready for the note to say, "I just can't" or "I am gay" or "please pack your things and go" or , "you're chicken was dry; I'm thru"....but instead I get, "I love you" , "Have a great day" and song lyrics that leave me practically in a puddle on the kitchen floor while I make my coffee. He asks me if I'm "sure" I want what he wants. I am more positive than a test at the free clinic. I love him. And that will never change. I can't believe 3 months ago, I just met this guy who played guitar and was cute, and had the greatest smile I've ever seen and now this is the person I lay next to at night and tell everything to. I trust him completely. He has given me everything I ever wanted and things I had NO idea I wanted.

I just want to be ANYWHERE he is. And I so look forward to anything and everything our life together will be because it will be with him.

"Darlin Won't You Ease My Worried Mind..."

Hello my lovely readers!???? Miss me!?!
I missed YOU!

I'm back after a lengthy hiatus. 6 months. YIKES.
Well as most of you know , I was in an emotionally abusive relationship that would rival the screenplay of a LIFETIME movie , from last January until the end of July. Happily though I am free and my life has been something along the lines of a dream come true lately. I mean I could always be thinner and have more money but the feelings of contentment and self worth I've come to know lately....along with the most perfect love ever...I'm just one happy pigeon.

In July I took a vacation with my now X to Jamaica....and of course while I was there I couldn't stay away from our resorts piano bar. Where I of course sang, "FAITH" numerous times and ended up competeing in the Talent Competition belting, "And I Am Telling You" only to receive a bottle of rum and hear the phrase, "there's no winner....everyone wins here!"...I'm still not over that. If it's a competition, SOMEONE better win, and it BETTER be me. - But I digress...
So I'm singing "FAITH", spreading the gospel of George Michael and when I'm done this nice guy approaches me with his lovely wife and says, "that was great...you don't happen to live in Jersey do ya?"....."well as a matter of fact I do!", "really, where?" "Cherry Hill-ish" and he was from Deptford (like for realsies what are the odds) and looking to add a girl singer to his classic rock cover band. And as we all know, Little Jaclyn has been dying to join a classic rock cover band for some time, just had no idea how that would ever come to pass. But here was an opportunity! So I come home from Jamaica, dump the boyfriend , stay in touch with the guy from Jamaica and by mid August I'm singing with the band, Loose Cannons for the first time. And I get up there with these guys at a gig , basically just to jam and see how things go and it's heaven. Like 30 songs I LOVE LOVE LOVE and I'm just living my dream of "fabulous career woman by day/Dana Fuchs' little sister by Night". SO I joined the band.
Now not only do I get to sing my favorite songs but I play with the best guys on the planet. Like, I LOVE my band. We've gotten SO good since we started, it's just incredible.

My first gig went off without a hitch obviously, and yea we had a ways to go and still are growing but from that first night, one thing was clear: I had CRAZY Stevie Nicks/Leslie Buckingham chemistry with my guitarist. Like we just fed off each other, would wink at one another and laugh and chat in between riffs and I just thought he was totes cute and that was that. And then he sang, "layla"....and I was done. I joined in on harmony and that last , "darlin won't you ease ...myyyyy worried.....miiiiiiind." DONE. DONE. DONE. But nothing happened. No drama. It was just clear we were adorable. But it's funny how you throw another skirt into the mix and it all changes. :) Our last gig, "coach" as we shall call him, brought a date. A DATE. in his defense...it was a set up and I had never revealed I had any genuine feelings for him. But I saw this chicklet chatting him up and drinking a beer with her clip in hair and I was about to get Glenn Close. I started texting Sasha, "true life: I am in love with my guitarist but he has some piece here with acrylic hair and a spandex shirt on" to which my bunny responded, "f*ck acrylic hair; go get your man".....after 3 more sets of sexual angst and rock n roll- of busting his balls about bringing a date when everyone knows "sundays at southwood are for flirting"- of him giving me sexy eyes and me telling him to "send michelle home" and half joking that I paid this huge biker guy, Don (who farted on our dance floor) to take her off his hands - I followed him out to his car to see if he needed any , "help". To which he said, "he was fine" and my confidence shriveled up and died momentarily and I started to walk away....he grabbed my arm,and said, "hey...are you serious?" and I said "yes, yes I am". And to be fair- I was serious. I was seriously attracted. All about some sexy guitar time , a little nasty nasty. But we kissed and had there been a word bubble above my head it would have read, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck". Because he kissed me, I kissed back and I basically got clubbed in the knees like Nancy Kerrigan. There's been no turning back. A day later , sitting in a local bar , sharing drinks and stories and finally talking to someone who I actually CARED about what they were saying....I knew I was in love. With my best friend no less. CRAZY. And here I am feeling this and kicking and cursing myself because I had my 'plan'. To be single now, to go to New York in november and hunt for peen with my girlfriends and start taking yoga and learn french once and for all. And so I went to the therapist and told her how "coach" had thrown a monkey wrench in all my plans. And she looked at me and told me I needed to be 100% honest with "Coach" because not only did he sound like a good guy overall but she was pretty sure I had met my soulmate. And so was I.

I tried to have "talk" with "Coach"....."we're at different points in our life....I don't know what I'm going to want in a year or 5...blah blah blah" and then in an instant I just blurted out, "I want to be with you".....and so I am.

I haven't felt this way since I met Brian when I was 16. And I always say to Brian, I listen to that John Mayer song, "I'm gonna find another you"...that it would and could only be someone I had THAT connection with to make me feel this way...and my therapist and I talked about how my person would have to be someone I connected with on that "brian" level, minus the drugs and drama. Someone who, like the dreaded X, had something to show for life but didn't give to get and didn't use me. Someone who wanted to take care of me but not fix me or "keep" me.

And here he is. So the answer seems to me: love him. Love him. stay with him. stay up late kissing and playing songs on the guitar. Just treasure this incredible love that I KNOW does NOT come around that often. He is magnificent. Kind and caring in a way that I had begun to doubt exhisted. Solid to the core. Knows who he is and wants nothing more than for me to be who I am and will do anything to encourage that I am that person. I'm just thanking God for him every minute because he is an angel. I love him. Love him. I know I sound like Renee Zelwegger in "jerry maguire" but I love him.

More to come....
xoxoxJAC

I'm Getting My Act Together

To say the last 24hours has been a nightmare .....that would be the understatement of the year.

To say it was a self inflicted hell ....that sounds  accurate.

I came home Monday morning (having spent the night at Mark's sunday after YAGMCB closed) to grab my salad and yogurt and all my other nonsense and as per usual went to give Franki a kiss. But he wasn't on my bed sleeping. And he wasn't in the basement playing. And he wasn't in the bathroom leaving paw prints on the bathtub....where the f was my cat?

I noticed there was a huge pile of cat SHIT on the porch...and that although there seemed to be no NEW rips in the screens...the small hole I had covered with bricks and such...was pretty exposed and I soon realized my cat was gone. Gone, and probably had been for some time. Panic. Panic , despair, DRAMA, blame....you name it, I felt it.  I just fell apart. I called out of work, and I just sat at my kitchen table and looked out the window.  What else could I do? I know now....I could've done a lot more.  I mean on one hand...yes, I'm glad I stayed home and if he had come back I would've been there but...I should've carried on. I should've kept myself together. And I realized this only today when the cat came back and I regained clarity and perspective. 

 I don't want to be this person.  This, as my boyfriend calls it, "delicate flower" who falls apart and that's that and everyone just takes it in stride and tip toes around it.  I crawled into bed yesterday and closed my eyes and shut out the world and I'm so mad at myself .

If I am going to define myself as a strong woman who works hard and doesn't take any bullshit....well I should probably start living that way. And I really don't know that I do.

I think there's obviously a difference between a soft heart and a soft head....I'm smarter than how I've been living.  Falling apart the way I tend to do simply demonstrates  a lack of control.  Which doesn't work for me...because I am the ONLY ONE who has control over who I am and what I become.  So I'm done.  Yes, I'll still be dramatic. I'll still weep openly every SINGLE TIME I watch , "The Way We Were" and I'll still assume Tony's going to live at the end of , "West Side Story".  But I'm just going to hold it all together with more than a thread from now on.

Luck O' The Irish?

Remember how the Cherry Hill Mall had the WHYY store???  Dear God if that wasn't my favorite place in the WORLD at the time.  And basically my babysitter while my Mother wandered around SEARS trying to figure out which credit card my StepMother hadn't run up.  It opened right around the time WHYY started broadcasting CATS and LES MIS in concert on a daily basis.  And so, not only did I spend my time in the store itself ; I spent my time in there pretending to be: Baumbalurina, Ruthie Henshall, and/or Wishbone (remember Wishbone?).  

And then came Michael Flatley.  The LORD of the Dance.  Mind you, I didn't give a SHIT about Riverdance. I mean it was cool and all but.....it wasn't Lord of the Dance. It didn't have the singing and the excitement and the story. Which is probably why Michael Flatley shot that shit out of a cannon and it became a phenomenon.  I was beside myself over it.  I wanted a claddagh ring, I started reading Irish fairy tales and planned on changing my name to Bridey(THANKS), I dyed my hair red again, I claimed I could speak "celtic" because I had memorized one of the traditional songs from the show and when people tried to call me on it I would say, 'I don't feel like it right now'.  Then I made my Mom buy me a VHS tape that supposedly taught you how to Irish Step Dance with one of the Riverdance guys teaching it.  .......I sprained my ankle trying to learn a reel and that was the end of that career path.  

The only thing left to do?  Why, feature Michael Flatley as the topic of my spanish collage in 7th grade, of course! Wouldn't You?  It went something like, "Michael Flatley e soy dancer. NO gato.  No Loco."....I obviously didn't get a very good grade. Considering I couldn't speak spanish and featured an Irish step dancer as my subject.  Oh Well.  That's true love.

XOXO

JAC

Stick it to Ya

It's always when you're just starting to feel confident about something that life turns around and smacks you upside the head .

I was just starting to really getting the hang of driving stick last friday.  I basically ran errands all day. And from major highways to small shopping centers , I was doing beautifully.  I could listen to music and shift at the same time....life was good.

That was all about to take a drastic turn (for realsies) for the worst.

My final errand was a run to Target for some last minute Charlie Brown things and to try on dresses that were only cut to fit an Olsen Twin.  I was on my way home chatting with Brian on the cell.  The cell was in my lap and on speaker and I still managed to shift and breath and talk......I was a PRO.  As I turned off of Rt 38 onto the exit ramp for the Garden State Shopping Center/Rt70 I looked ahead to see a stop sign. "Shiiiiiiiiiiit" I thought.  I'm really no good at the stop signs pre-major highway.  Mainly because this puts my car on a slant. And then I'm just completely and totally screwed.  You see, there's a "sweet  spot" with the clutch and the gas when you are going from a start into 1st gear....and it's not so hard to find it on level ground but on a slant. Not so much.  So picture it.  Car on slant. Stop. Start. Car begins to roll back into oncoming traffic and as I attempt each time to get it to go.....each time it stalls out.  And so now, not only am I compromising lives...even worse than that I am inconveniencing people beyond belief.  I start to sweat. I start to cry. And my legs begin to shake uncontrollably.  So I am doing everything I can to talk myself off the ledge but by now I am WAY too far gone in my head to get myself back, and even if I wanted to I couldn't get this car to go.  My clutch leg is shaking like Shakira's ass.  I decide that seeing as I am going to A: have to live here on this ramp. B: Miss my opening night and C: Kill myself , I should just roll the windows down and start screaming.  SO thats what I did.

About a minute later, the woman behind me gets out of her car (presumably to kill me) and approaches my window. "I'm SORRY I yell", "Ok calm down....do you think if you could get it to level ground  you could get it to go?" she calmly asks, "YES" I sob....."Ok , I'm gonna give you a push"....and so, this ANGEL, THIS GODDESS proceeds to physically push my car forward on the ramp.  And I just go , and yell, "Thank you, I'm SO SORRY".......and then I went to Wegman's and had a cookie and a water for lunch.  

Now I have to decide if Im ok with avoiding ramps forever or if I will attempt this death defying stunt again.  Considering there are ramps en route to the mall and my boyfriends house....I should probably consider another attempt.  Does anyone have a xanax?

XOXO

JKB

A Lotta Livn' To Do

I'm Baaaack.  I think.  

The family I nanny for has moved to suburbia.  A rather happy situation concerning that my commute in the morning is now about 7 minutes door to door and does not involve a crowded train; but also rather a predicament considering about an hour after I arrive for a day of suburban mothering to a toddler, I start to feel VERY Plath-like. Sylvia Plath. Just wanna make sure we're all together.  They won't have television until after Monday.  While I realize there's plenty o' things I could and SHOULD do with my time other than TV.....I find most of it takes me to a bad place.  The place we shall call, "the "quiet" in my mind".  Only, it's not very quiet...it's LOUD in there. 

 I tried reading.  Bergdorf Blondes, by Plum Sykes.  But its so superficial.  I know. I can't believe I just said that either.  But it is.  And all the "PH" (which is good ol' Plums abreva (no not the herpes stuff) for "Prospective Husband"), Manolos, and talk of pills and started to give me a panic attack the other day.    As I read how the lead character was about to off herself with an advil overdose I considered, "hey , maybe she's onto something.  and I am awful tired".  It was then that I put the book down and took the kid for a walk.  Even if I wasn't a 100% committed to the idea, I was still half crazy but half lucid to know that considering my own demise in any capacity meant a change was needed.  

I felt like I was drowning.  And as much as there were, in my mind, "a million reasons" there were really....I don't know, NONE.  Maybe 2 if I really wanted to get down to brass tacks but really...no.    So rather than expecting deception and dissapointment from everyone and everything in my life, I'm making an effort to believe in and expect truth and happiness.  Which is easier said than done when your boyfriend is 45 minutes away and you can't see him because you're playing a 4 year old who is basically space filler and psycho babble :)  But that's life.

Speaking of.  We open, "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown" tomorrow....a labor of love and quite frankly I've never seen my friends so devoted to something and working so hard on something ever.  I however have never felt quite so random in my life.  And while , yes I know, this is the very role which earned Kristin Chenoweth her Tony, she must've been doing meth and Marc Kudisch must've been acting as a dramaturg during their little "engagement" because I'm just in my own little world of confusion.  I feel out of place, and often think they should've cast the two year old child I watch everyday.  She IS Sally Brown.  I on the other hand feel like the only person wearing a one piece at a nude beach.  But I'm amongst friends.  The Dog's easy on the eyes.  And I belt a lot.

In other news...I feel I can now say that I am a true stick shift driver.  I have pretty much mastered neutral to first (which for those of you who don't know- is what you need to do to get started at any stop/go point) and I was having HUGE issues going from 2nd to 3rd which - ha- is a bit of a necessity but Mark sorted it out yesterday and realized my car is a little different than his and you have to go a bit further right into 3rd.  I know no one cares but this realization has made my life a lot easier and has made the roads safer for all of you. So , CARE MORE!

I'm currently in rehearsals for Midsummer Nights Musical as well and it's so fun because , again, it's just a bunch of people I LOVE thrown into a room.  And we sing. And we laugh.  And Kim and I do our best not to look at each other and set the other one off.   We really need to put Nat Chandler's picture back up on the wall though...it just feels wrong without it.  Like, if Rick Astley played a concert and didn't sing, "Never Gonna Give You UP"....just wrong.

I joined Twitter today.  I tweet now.  I think it's stupid. And frankly I don't know why I've been updating it when it's obvious to me that the people I've decided to "follow" on there,( which include a Real Housewife of NYC, Gavin Newsom, and Whole Foods) probably don't give a shit that I had mixed feelings on the L Word series finale.  Yet, I continue to tweet.  I mean if for no other reason than to hear my phone make pretty noises with updates.  Mark gave me an I Phone and it's like crack.  I no longer find myself wanting to bite Erica's fingers off for being a blackberry whore because...I get it now.  The world is literally, SADLY at my fingertips.  The moment Mark gave it to me it was clear he'd made a mistake....I was checking email, checking weather, checking Perez....checking STOCKS.  Mark just said, "I think I just lost my girlfriend"  "Honey, NO! :head burried in typing in banking information:...I can BANK from my PHONE!"

It's just bad all around.  The good news though, is that I can't talk on the phone or text while driving anymore....stick robs you of that option.  It's sad.

Before I end....allow me to enlighten you with one of my favorite moments learning to drive stick.  This was in the early stages, and is a phone call made in urgency to Brian Rivell's cell phone.

Brian: Hi There (slightly kind, slightly , "why are you calling my cell when I'm at work")

Jaclyn: Hi. How do I get this car to stop rolling?

Brian: :laughing: WHAT!?!

Jaclyn: No SERIOUSLY! IT'S ROLLING!

Brian: OK OK...clutch. break. neutral. parking break.

Jaclyn: NO ..WAIT... oh ok. Thanks, bye.

Brian: Bye

XOXO JAC