Greatest Dates of All Time

Ok, my title is misleading. But I recently talked with some friends about some of our favorite dates of all time.

I’ll start with one of my favorites. Girl, young, successful, beautiful, great personality, goes to dinner in Phoenix with a guy she met online and really seems to like. Wears white booty shorts to showcase her rocking body and legs. Sits down… and sharts herself. So immediately she jumps up and backs the whole way out of the restaurant, just repeating over and over that it’s not him, she just has a personal problem. Never sees him again.

A lady I know has MS. When she has to pee, she has to pee. She went on a date with a guy who picked her up in a new, slamming Porsche sports car. When they get to the restaurant, the parking lot is packed and Porsche guy is too cheap (or whatever) for valet. He’s driving all around the parking lot as she says, “Can you just drop me off at the door, I’ll run in to the restroom while you park.” To which he replies, “No no, we’ll find a spot soon.” So they park and as soon as she gets out, she pees herself. Being super resourceful, she sees a water wall fountain by the door, and quickly falls in. Her date freaks out because now she’s a mess. She asks him to drive her home, and he replies that he doesn’t have a towel. She calls a cab. Never sees him again.

My buddy’s mom decided to start dating again, years after her divorce, so she goes online and sets a date with a seemingly mature older gentleman. When he arrives for the date he quickly states, “You don’t look like your picture” and gets up and leaves. Forgets his wallet. She picks it up and follows him to give it back. When he sees her following he takes off running. So then she takes off after him yelling “Mister!”. He runs on, she keeps chasing. I love the visual of two old people in a foot chase down the street. They did not see each other again.

Another guy went out to a club and met someone to go home with. Upon arriving, the man says he hopes it’s not a problem, but he has a couple cats. A couple. They go inside and like 17 cats are running around. He tried to overlook it but about five minutes in has too leave. More pussy than dick in that apartment, as he tells it. Never saw him again.

Anyhow those are just a few. More to come later.

Let me check my blackberry

Life on the island is slow. Like, truly slow. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Even with all the work that is done daily to keep us somewhat sustainable and self sufficient, life slows down. I have a week in each day, months in my weeks. Time changes and bends and stirs.

And as I mix in with this pace, I stir the pot just to watch it change, watch it adapt, like skipping rocks on a placid lake to pass the time and boredom. The softness of the place (the flowers, the ferns, the moss) fights back with cliffs and ocean and danger. I love it.

I hike through the crazy wonderland forest, 3 ecosystems dancing together on the ocean, I sit atop cliffs and look for whales, I sunbathe on rocks and wave to the boats.

Yesterday I had a breakfast shift and then the whole day off. I day drank and rode the boat around the island, soaking in too much sun and not enough water and loving every minute of it. I shared my cheeses and capers and crackers, wishing someone else loved kippered herring like it do, because that’s not exactly something you can just eat in front of someone who is a vegetarian. I took a nap. I read a short story. I went to the fish house and ate fresh mussels for dinner with friends. They tasted like the ocean. I hiked to the lighthouse and fell asleep watching stars.

I was glowing and happy and refreshed at breakfast this morning. Because you can’t make or set a schedule out here. You have to let your time bend as well. You become part of the crazy slowness that is Monhegan Island. 12 miles to shore and somehow an incredibly long journey away from society.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have so much to do.

The Ghost in the Forest

A light in the woods, a plate in the kitchen, a door that unlocks itself.

I’ll start at the other night. Got off work relatively early for a dinner shift. The moon was out and bright and I decided to go on a moonlight hike with a friend. We ended up in the middle of the Cathedral Woods instead of by the shore. The moon was gone, swallowed up by the towering pine trees. We were in an animated discussion over something or other and sat down to debate. I took off my coat to sit on. After a while I caught a chill, I thought we should keep moving to warm up. Debate continued instead. Off in the woods I saw a light. For a moment I thought someone else was out for a stroll. I turned back to talk. About ten minutes later I looked back and the light was still there. More defined. Taking shape. I kept one eye out. Ten minutes after that it was closer. This is when I pointed it out to my companion. We watched, and ever so slightly, ever so slowly, it was approaching, its shape defining a bit more each time. It was somewhat like a snowman without the middle ball. We started walking. I looked back twice, it was there both times, the same distance from which we had left it, steadily following behind us. At the end of the woods, where we met the road we both turned. It stayed in the thicket where the trees began. It hovered. We went home.

The next day I was in the kitchen prepping for lunch. I walked some silverware to the dishpit, in a separate room, and the cooks were behind the line away from the open area of the kitchen and sink. With no one even remotely nearby, a dish flew from the sink area and shattered on the floor across the way. We all just froze and looked. Sure, maybe there’s a logical explanation, but no one felt like talking, felt like stating the seemingly true.

Poltergeist.

But then, I’ve been wrong before. There is certainly an odd energy on this tall rock out in the sea, though. You can almost reach out and touch it.

All the Noise and Lack Thereof

Crickets and frogs and wind and ocean and cliffs and rustles and breezes and birds. It’s never truly silent.
It just feels like it.
Like the island is its own music.

Let it Happen

“It’s always around me all this noise
But not nearly as loud as the voice saying
Let it happen…
Let it happen…
It’s going to feel so good.”

It’s crazy living with your coworkers in such a small space. Like 27 hamsters in a tiny little cage. They can smell my feet and I can hear their chatter. We get used to each other. Maybe too used to it.

“All this running around
Trying to cover my shadow
An ocean growing inside
All the others seem shallow

All this running around
Bearing down on my shoulders
I can hear an alarm
Must be a warning.”

At least we have a decent soundtrack to it.

Alone Down There

Can one lose love? Like, truly lose it. I know not everyone is capable of love in the first place. That was an unfortunate realization, when it came. But the ability to share it, create it, express it, spread it… can one lose that?

Have I lost it? Am I so salty now that cynicism and pragmatism are all that is left?

That seems so stark.

But realistic.

I loved too severely and enduringly and now I’ve exhausted my cache, maybe. I’ve just run out?

I think I caught a disease, y’all, the one where you get incapable of hope. I may have to resign my optimism because yes, everyone I know will one day die, we will all hurt and our hearts will break and our bodies tear up and give out and the sparkles fade from our smiles. It is all downhill. And then your dreams begin to fade and shift and there is no and sweeping solution. There is none at all.

One more time around might do it. 

Perhaps it would be better without the expectation of love? Because life without it isn’t necessarily awful. I can love Mr. Frank and fireflies and open water. And anything else is a bonus. Maybe love can be lost, and I don’t know if I’ll find it again. Life can feel loveless in a raw way, and perhaps I’ll just settle with that fact. I’m tired, after all.

But c’est la vie. I told you me alone with my thoughts is frightening.

Silence and Stillness

There is silence. And the odd peace that comes with it. And the odd terror that comes with too much silence. Me and my thoughts alone is a scary premise. I’ll figure it out, though. In the meantime food is good, nights are warm, and I can’t complain.

The sun is shining today in all its glory. I shall nap on a rock and get toasty. In all the silence there isn’t really stillness. You have to find it. Challenge accepted.

Wednesday

So I woke up today. Great.
I spent the last evening with some guests staying in a cottage. It’s an older woman and her elderly mother. Her mother makes the most beautiful paintings and she can’t hear and barely sees, it is incredible. And the other one, Nancy, she’s awesome and swears up a storm. I found two random soul mates. Was lovely. I was scared and nervous but I’m glad I came to the island. I was probably meant to be here. They both thought so, too. A truly simple and nice evening.
Then morning comes, and I want to talk about it. And Jim is gone. And Mr. Frank is in Mississippi. What world do I live in? I’ve gone wild and haven’t anyone to document and laugh and fumble with. Now life is weird.
I miss Jim. He was a good one.

Wild Life

The boss had gotten some gin. The girls had seltzer and tonic. I had a chocolate bar. We made an evening of it, watching the sunset over the harbor. I can get used to slow living, I think.