"AHHHHHHH!" or One Black Shoe, One Blue

It’s going to be one of those weeks. You know the kind, you return home from a blissfully relaxing and fun-filled 3-day weekend to a list of a million things to do and you don’t even know where to start.

I spent Memorial Day Weekend in Washington, DC with the ManBoy’s family. We were there to celebrate his sister’s graduation from the Washington College of Law at The American University; and having spent last weekend with them in New York it was great to continue the fun in our nation’s capital! However, somewhere amidst the fun – the food, the wine, the sunny weather, and the admission of a number of complete strangers that they read this blog, I completely forgot about the immense amount of work waiting for me upon my return home…

It’s moving week! (AHHHHHH!) and as potentially exciting, no, thrilling as that may be, I can’t quite see the finish line through the cluttered to-do list.

{I think it is appropriate to note here that while I may appear, to the cyber world, a calm, even-tempered soul, in reality, I suffer from an undiagnosed (and thus, un-medicated) case of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder coupled with Attention Deficit Disorder. Consequently, excessive disarray in both my emotional life and physical space can lead to mild anxiety attacks. In other words, this is not gonna be a fun week for anyone involved!}

I have an entire apartment to pack up and move into Manhattan in a matter of days and a million logistical things to take care of so that when we show up to our new home we have keys, a new wall built in the living room, cable and Internet set up, and a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. On top of that, the ManBoy will, in all likelihood, be stuck at the office late every night this week.

Luckily, my parents have graciously offered to help me out and will be arriving at my apartment at 6pm this evening. Hopefully, a few extra hands will make the process move more smoothly (here’s hopin’).

Last night, while the ManBoy provided moral support by checking up on his fantasy baseball stats and watching The West Wing (our favorite show), I successfully boxed up the pots and pans, my winter coats, and all of my purses and tote bags. I also removed wall hangings, photo frames, and books from the shelves. Needless to say, in its current state, my Greenwich apartment looks like a bomb went off.

As a result, this morning, after a mild scare from work and the challenging acceptance of my messy apartment (for the first time in ages I didn’t even make my bed), I arrived at the office with a spasm in my lower back, wearing two different colored shoes – one black shoe, one blue…

Rough start - this does not bode well for the rest of the week.

How am I ever going to make it through?

Wish me luck!

When Irish Eyes are Smiling

What a weekend!

There is so much to fill you all in on (I apologize in advance for the length of this post).

First, let’s back track a bit.

For the last month and a half I have been anxiously awaiting the ManBoy’s birthday, and simultaneously cooking up a fun-filled weekend of surprises for him. His friends and family were involved throughout the process and were incredibly helpful in making the weekend’s events go off without a hitch! {Points to all of you!}

While for him, the fun began on Friday night upon his return home from LA, the rest of us were enjoying ourselves in the days prior, as the ManBoy grew increasingly anxious and irrationally concerned that no one would want to spend time with him on Saturday night. He received word earlier in the week that a few of his high school buddies, whom he rarely sees, would be in town for the weekend. Needless to say, he was thrilled; and yet almost immediately conflicted about with whom he would spend his birthday celebration – his college friends or the high school guys.

Unbeknownst to him, plans had been set in motion weeks in advance that would kill a dozen birds with one stone: A Surprise Party to which all of his friends (college and high school alike) were invited.

In addition, reservations had been made for a dinner to take place at Churrascaria Plataforma prior to the party. His parents were in town and would be joining us, along with my mom, my dad, and my sister (who is not-so-secretly in love with the ManBoy and whom I’ll be keeping a very close eye on…yeah, she’s 15.) While he knew about the dinner, he didn’t know that two very special (and sneaky) guests would also be attending. His sister and brother-in-law decided to drive up from Washington, DC to surprise him and spend the weekend with us!

In other words, I heart surprises and the weekend was chock full of ‘em.

{Are we all up to speed? OK. Good.}

Fast forward to Friday night:

In true perfect girlfriend fashion, I arrived at JFK minutes before his plane landed with a “birthday boy” sign in hand. We went out that night with his high school friends who, somehow, despite having (more than) one too many, never let it slip that they’d be at the surprise party the following evening.

We spent Saturday running errands, picking out birthday cake, (signing my lease on my new apartment wooohooo), and primping ourselves for dinner that evening.

{Actually, I’m pretty sure I was the only one primping, but the ManBoy looked damn good that night so I’d venture a guess that he checked himself out in the bathroom mirror a few times too}.

We arrived at his parents’ hotel at 5 minutes to 6:00pm and proceeded to battle the midtown traffic en route to the restaurant.

{Huddled in the backseat of the cab I was sneakily fielding text messages from his sister as well as his various groups of friends}.

At the restaurant, his sister and brother-in-law managed to slink over to our table unnoticed and hid until we headed over. As expected, he couldn’t have been happier about they’re having come to visit!

Dinner was fantastic – complete with tasty drinks, great food, yummy cake, excellent company, and a few very touching toasts to the guest of honor! {One of which was given by my father, who, you know have you been reading, gives quite a speech. It was incredible to hear him speak so thoughtfully and sincerely about the man I love – an awesome moment!}.

After dinner his friends had their chance to show their true colors. All the while keeping me updated on their movements, together we convinced the ManBoy to venture “all the way downtown” to M1-5 to meet up with one of his roommates and his “work colleagues”. The ManBoy, who is rarely below 14st, was less than thrilled that we were trekking all the way there to hang with people who weren’t even his friends, but he went nonetheless.

Upon arriving at 52 Walker Street, we walked through two giant metal doors into what looked like an old warehouse. You could feel the bass of the music in your heartbeat and the blaring red backlights were disorienting at first. We met up with his roommate who escorted us to the back lounge where…

SURPRISE!!!!!

All of his friends were waiting, drinks in hand, ready for some fun!

The rest of the night was a blast. All of his closest friends had made it out, his parents stopped by for a while, and of course his sister and brother-in-law were there as well. Even a few of my girlfriends came and had a great time mingling with everyone. He was thrilled and nothing could have made me happier than seeing him smile.

Sunday, as I’m sure you can imagine, was, in large part, spent recovering and spending time with his mom and dad. We went to the Met, picnicked on the roof of his apartment, and smoked Cohibas.

All this fun and it wasn’t even his actual birthday yet.

Monday morning. The ManBoy made the executive decision to call in a much deserved sick day and enjoy his birthday resting. I went to work for a few hours before meeting up with him to head into the city for dinner.

We ate at The Capital Grille, his family’s all-time favorite restaurant. Their longstanding relationship with The Capital Grille certainly paid off as the staff worked very hard to make his birthday a special experience for us. The table was decorated with colorful Happy Birthday confetti, he was given a birthday card from the restaurant, and they treated us to complimentary desserts and champagne (they also took a picture which I'll be sure to post).

Of course, though, the highlight of the night was my gift to him.

Creatively preceded by bottles of Jameson, Bailey’s and Guinness, I handed the ManBoy a large envelope containing a two page letter and a trip itinerary…

The itinerary listed the following details:

Booked Items:
Trip: New York – Dublin

Status:
Booked

Wed 26-Aug-09
New York (JFK)Depart 7:25 pm Terminal 3
to
Dublin (DUB)Arrive 7:50 am
Flight Operated by: Delta

Tue 1-Sep-09
Dublin (DUB)Depart 9:35 am
to
New York (JFK)Arrive 11:55 am Terminal 3
Flight Operated by: Delta

Hotel Summary:
Thu Aug-27-2009 (5 nights)
The Royal Marine Hotel
Marine Road Dun Laoghaire Dublin, Ireland
Check in: Thu Aug-27-2009 Check out: Tue Sep-1-2009


In case that’s too much information for you, I can spell it out – I’m taking him to Ireland!

Ireland, home to his ancestors, is the ManBoy’s favorite place in the world. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t speak about his experiences and memories from time spent on the Emerald Isle. I want desperately to witness the beauty of that place through his (Irish) eyes.

He was, needless to say, thrilled (and not a little bit shocked) by the gift.

His friends across the pond have been notified and are anxiously awaiting our arrival. We leave August 26th and while I’m certain it goes without saying, we are so excited!

Happy Birthday ManBoy!!

It is officially the ManBoy's Birthday Weekend! Let the games begin!

The ManBoy turns 24 on Monday, May 18th and I am determined to make this an excellent weekend of celebration! Of course I cannot share any details on what is in store, but I promise to update you on everything on Monday.

I can tell you, however, that his parents are arriving to New York any minute now, and have a bottle of Amarone waiting for them in their hotel room (courtesy of yours truly, clearly). We'll be having dinner tonight at Churrascaria Plataforma and then who knows.... (actually, I do, but again, mum's the word).

{I should note here that I am TERRIBLE at keeping secrets, especially from the ManBoy, so thank God this weekend is here because ahhhh it's been killing me!}

Anyhoodle, despite how stressful the last few weeks of scheming, I mean, planning, have been, if all goes well, I'm sure it will be an unforgettable birthday for him. And, at the end of the day, seeing him happy makes it all worth it....

"Location Location Location" or The Art of Compromise

And so begins the next chapter of my real (estate) life…

It is official, I have done the impossible: I have moved from New Jersey, to New York City, to Connecticut, and now, I will be returning to The Big Apple.

After hours (and hours) of tireless searching for the perfect home to call our own on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, we’ve found it!

If you’re just joining us, let me take a minute to catch you up:

I have been living in Greenwich, CT for the last year and have been itching to get back into the City. Oftentimes, when people leave Manhattan to set up shop in “the burbs”, they never manage to make it back to New York; not I. In recent weeks, as I’ve prepared for my lease term to end, my game plan for moving back has changed substantially though. Once in hot pursuit of an affordable alcove studio, I have decided to live with a dear childhood friend of mine in a convertible 2 bedroom apartment; the only catch: we needed to find the place.

We agreed on a general area, the UES (and when I say general, I mean that could be from anywhere in the high 60s to the mid-90s from the East River to the Park), and a price range. We then embarked on what would be 7 hours of trekking around the aforementioned neighborhood with the two roommates, our mothers, the ManBoy, a broker, and no food (or coffee, for that matter). You do the math. Needless to say, somewhere amidst the starvation and the multiple type-A personalities (each with a different opinion, of course) I found myself in tears.

Nothing seemed to be that “just right” place for both of us. I loved a place in the mid-90s (2 blocks from the ManBoy) with a brand new pass-thru kitchen, a stunning roof deck, a gorgeous fitness facility that included a pool, an aerobics room and all kinds of classes, etc. etc. She wanted to be in the mid-80s where the “fun” was. We knew that once living as roommates, we’d be fine, great even, but we couldn’t quite agree on where.

After some negotiation, we went back to our broker and asked if there were any buildings in the mid-80s that had all the “stuff” that the mid-90s building had. There answer was yes, but there was only one, and it was above our previously expressed budget. Faced with the threat of derailing our plans and having to live alone, we agreed to see the building (and we knew it HAD to work).

We walked in and it was great! It was in the perfect location for her, and the amenities were suitable for me. The apartment is on a high floor, with tons of sunlight, a new kitchen, and (get this)…A WASHER AND DRYER IN THE UNIT! The rent is even a good deal less than we were expecting to pay. In other words, it is real estate heaven for two (very different) 20-something girls living on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

In the next two weeks we have leases to sign, walls to build, movers to book and utilities to set up; but, we move in on June 1st and I absolutely cannot wait! New York City, here I come…again.

Lean Not On Your Own Understanding

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and he will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 3: 5-6

"God bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her, and guide her thru the night with a light from above."

"In God We Trust"

"America, America, God shed his grace on thee"

“One nation, under God”

"And may God bless the Unites States of America!"


We are a nation of greatness – of prosperity, of freedom, and of opportunity for all. Yet, while priding ourselves on our “moral standing” in the world, we have spent years pushing God out of our lives and our laws. We unaffectedly pass by the words “In God We Trust” etched in stone, and yet continuously ask for his blessing on our country, even if only for the sake of rhetoric.

It is a disheartening truth that we have strayed far from the vision and ideals upon which this nation was founded. In that time, while we have achieved great things, we have also, far too often, been excessively prideful and irreverent to the higher power who has graciously blessed us with the chance to live in a place where boundless opportunities are available for all who seek them and where freedom is so fervently celebrated and defended. We have become our own gods – subservient only to our will and our selfish desires.

Our hypocrisy is poisonous to the fabric of our society. Many Americans denounce the power and presence of God in their daily lives, and yet, when bad things happen ask, “Where was God?”

Now, as we are plagued by economic tumult, sky-high unemployment, and war both at home and abroad, when given the opportunity to humble ourselves in prayer, our leaders in Washington have, once again, chosen the path of self-importance. Today, the White House refused to actively observe and participate in the National Day of Prayer, set aside each year on the first Thursday of May.

Despite the outcome of the elections that took place in November, and the inspiring energy that followed, some are still not satisfied. All too often, our democratically elected leaders arrive in Washington and forget that their purpose is to serve the people of this nation, rather than themselves and their political ambitions. While there are still some who regard pursuing a career in the public sector as pursuing a life of “public service”, too many have chosen that path with the view to serve only themselves, or a select few.

These are trying times for Americans, and few public figures will let us forget it. But, to suggest that one man, equally fallible as you and I, can take on the troubles of this country, of this world, entirely on his own, is a brazen exhibition of pride and arrogance. While so many wake each day and include in their prayers well wishes for our president and for our country, to refuse to participate in what could have been a powerful display of humility, at a time when the people of this nation are clamoring for it, leaves with me an aching sense of abandonment.

So tonight, as I bow my head and clasp my hands, I will ask God to protect my family and my friends; I will pray that He watches over me and draws me closer to Him with every step I take; I will ask Him to soften the hearts of those too stubborn and hurt to forgive, repent, or ask for help; I will beg for His mercy on this nation that I love; and for His gentle hand to tug on the hearts of our leaders so that they may find strength and humility in Him. Amen.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

The verdict is in...It is official: I have the best boyfriend...ever! (duh)

We’ve all, at one time or another, been to a professional sporting event…No? {If you have not, I have nothing to say to you except, please get on that}. You may not know this but, I, despite my exceedingly girly tendencies, have a love for all things sports – sporting events, sports bars, men who play sports, etc. etc. etc. So, every spring, when the Good Lord graces us with yet another season of athletic hotties in tight pants running around a baseball diamond, I find myself just a little bit happier.

{That said, I am also a huge football aficionada, and the smell of crisp fall leaves makes me want nothing more than to throw on my jersey, park myself in section 4-D of the Giants Stadium parking lot, grill up some burgers, have a couple beers, and toss around a football.}

Nevertheless, my point is: I love baseball; a fortunate consequence of which is the thrill that comes with going to a baseball game! I can’t get enough – the hot dogs, the sausage and peppers, (the martini bar, if we’re talking about the new Yankee Stadium), the loyal, cheering (cursing, yelling, angry) fans, and the sounds of Frank Sinatra fading off into the night…nothing beats it.

Having been raised in the Tri-State Area by native New Yorkers and die hard Yankee fans, a love of pinstripes is nothing short of hereditary – a prerequisite, if you will, for growing up in this part of the country. As a little girl, we spent many spring, summer and fall (more than we do now) evenings in the Bronx, I in my Don Mattingly tee, my brother in a full Yankee uniform, and my dad, having usually just come from work, in a suit with a jersey thrown over his collared shirt. Those were the days.

My memories of that hallowed ground include attending Games 1 and 6 of the 1996 World Series, when the Yankees defeated the Atlanta Braves to win their 23rd World Championship, their first since 1978. This auspicious occasion marked the beginning of the Yankee glory days for those of us who were too young to remember the baseball greats of old. That team embodied a beautiful harmony of old world and next generation players including veterans, like Paul O’Neill (whose jersey I now proudly don), and promising rookies, like Derek Jeter.

Through awe-inspiring victories, disappointing defeats, walk-off home runs, record-breaking grand slams, and impossible catches, to The House That Ruth Built, we remained faithful. Now, in the words of the Yankees promo, “greatness has a new home”, and with it come new memories – the first of which I made last night.

The ManBoy, a Red Sox fan since birth, having previously been an employee of the Yankees Scoreboard and Broadcasting department (yes, you read that correctly), pulled some strings, and got us tickets to the first Yankees vs. Red Sox game to be played at the new stadium. {I’ll admit, despite the controversy surrounding the project, it really is a beautiful ballpark}. While the game, after two hours and 17 minutes of rain delay, didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, there were a few glimmers of excitement over the course of the night.

In addition to back-to-back home runs hit by Johnny Damon and Mark Teixeira, both my name and my face were put up on the big screens! The ManBoy, earlier that day, had called in a favor to his former co-workers and low and behold in the middle of the game we looked up and saw “Yankees Welcome Jaclyn McLean”. I was so excited (and of course I snapped a photo)! Later in the game, one of the camera guys, who had spotted the ManBoy, came over and got a great shot of my face (laughing and pointing at my Red Sox-clad companion) that was then displayed on the massive HD screen over right field! What a good guy!

Needless to say, losing aside, it was an incredible night and a great way to start building memories at the new stadium! Of course I thanked him profusely and I’m even considering forgiving his terrible taste in baseball teams…but we’ll see.

Their New House

The Enemy (what a cutie)

The Rivals

How cool is that?

Boy Meets Girl...

It's a modern spin on the classic tale of "boy meets girl"...complete with dating websites, profile pages, and e-mails. No, I am not reviewing the latest Nicholas Sparks novel I read, or the chick-flick I watched last night. Rather, I am talking about my best friend, and the exciting weekend she has ahead of her.

My dear friend, Amanda, I cannot say enough about her: She's ambitious, funny, creative, picky, and on a quest to find true love - the real deal.

Having met her during our freshman year of high school, I have been a fortunate witness to the majority of her dating life. I believe it was both our love of Jesus and our fascination with the lofty notion of romance and otherworldly-love that served as the foundation of our friendship.

We were, and continue to be, dreamers, she and I. We believe fiction should imitate real life, not the other way around. We know that fairy tales are the stuff of real experiences, which are crystallized by memories, photographs, and diaries (both public and private).

Over the course of our 9 years of friendship we have indulged each other’s overdeveloped sense of fantasy and have shared memories that most can only dream of.

High school was fraught with late-night escapades, sneaking out of the house, planning surprises for our high school boyfriends (who were also best friends), and envisioning a future complete with beautiful weddings, adorable children, and a shared lakefront property.

We breathed new imagination into every experience.

As we moved on to college, we realized the possibility for adventure was limitless. In the summer following our First Year, with two bagels, a car full of clothes, and no plan of which to speak, we traveled to Hilton Head, South Carolina to assume new identities as “Summer Locals”. In no time, we had made our mark - we were a hit!

There were no rules, no responsibilities, no persons, nor pasts with which we were burdened, only our $7/hr jobs which afforded us plenty of beach time, and a host of new friends.


As adults, having recently set out on our latest adventure: real life, our quest for fantasy has remained, only now in an adapted capacity for the real world.

While I, after a host of failed relationships, have finally found my prince charming, Amanda continues to search, refusing to settle “for anything less than butterflies” {which brings me to this weekend, and the exciting unknown which lies before her}.

If you’ve been following her blog, the story of her love life has probably replaced your bedside romance novel. But if not, let me bring you up to speed:

Amanda, a few months ago, signed up for an eHarmony account – judge not, as she has met some very interesting people, whom she has quickly been able to dismiss as “just not the guy for her” (before even subjecting herself to what were bound to be waste-of-time first dates). However, one male suitor, with whom she’s been speaking, has caught her attention; enough so, that they will be meeting each other, for the first time, this weekend in New York City. {I will be meeting him as well (and promise to report back with an honest opinion), as it is customary for the best friend to vet all new male prospects}.


Her weekend wardrobe is chosen, her nails done, her hair colored, cut, and blown out. She is now on her way to meet a boy of whom she, in only a few short weeks, has grown incredibly fond…

Ah, Amanda, the eternal optimist – I, a reformed skeptic of your decision to replace conventional social gatherings with this cyber community of dating hopefuls, applaud you and wish you the best of luck!