Friday, July 07, 2006

Resolutions and Claims to Fame

I recently got into some trouble with a friend for breaking a commitment. Said plans were for the evening before I was scheduled to leave for Athens, so I had no business seeing the Mets play the Phils. Alas, I did say I would go. When I told this friend several days before that I couldn't attend, he was irate and demanded I pay for my ticket (ahem, his season ticket). Indignant, I simply asked for his home address and mailed a check for $33.00.

And yes, he cashed it.

And no, I probably won't be inviting him to the Beer Garden this summer. Ah well.

This unfortunate loss of $33 plus one friend did teach me this: I need to start honoring my commitments. What do I have if I don't keep my word?

So last night, I promised an old college friend that I'd be at his happy hour. And by God, I made it. Clad in Guess heels and a smart skirt which Stacy and Clinton would have approved, I arrive at the BBQ bar, assuring myself I'll only have one or two beers, and head out. Instead, College Buddy makes a face when I order a Miller Lite. "We're all drinking these lemonade drinks... Not sure what is in them, but they're great!"

I acquiesce. The drink is delicious! College Buddy and I begin catching up. He is a friend from my first school, a tiny liberal arts college on Manhattan's Upper East Side. There, most of the students were either theater or dance majors, or child actors. I always loved that the kid from The Sandlot (Smalls!) was a classmate, thoughI never once ran into him. And of course, he popped up later opposite Sean Penn in Mystic River, so Smalls is doing alright for himself.

Eventually, CB mocks me for once having a crush on his roommate, Christian Actor.

"He was dreamy," I swoon, as the alcohol I am gulping begins to cloud my better judgment. "He spent some time on As The World Turns or Another World I think. But it would have never worked out between us; he always had a thing for that blonde dancer girl. The Southern one?"

"Yes, Katherine something - and she was in that movie!"

Instantly, I know which film he speaks of.

"Oh my God!" I squeal. "From Justin to Kelly!!" Of course, I didn't know I was watching adorable Southern Katherine at the time. My mind races: How did she get this role? Who is her agent? What is Kelly Clarkson like in person?

More importantly, shouldn't I be doing something more?

I order another drink and chat with CB and his work friends until the room starts spinning. I throw on my flip flops and head out into Times Square, quite tipsy. I feel amazing about keeping my resolution and becoming a reliable woman. I soak up the energy on 42nd Street for a moment, and then dash into the subway to head home.

2 comments:

the_real_jc said...

OK, so when do I get a post dedicated to me? Or at least a reference? The Chubby Bunny gets a reference? I see the nickname "j" is already taken by some "beau," so you can refer to me as "the_real_jc." I'm kind of a big deal. I have many leather bound books and my apartment smells of rich mohogany. Is the freeze out the result of me leaving when you started playing Lionel Richie last time I was over? Is that such a crime?

Homevalley said...

Oh JC, one could certainly devote an entire blog to you and your antics. But please, this is a forum for honesty... You most certainly did not leave my house when Lionel's smooth voice came on the stereo. As I recall you were pretty fired up about "Dancing on the Ceiling." The bottom line is you are easy, JC. Easy like Sunday morning.