Jenny O and Date Night Tears

Well, we finally did it.  We finally paid an actual, non-family babysitter to watch over the Little Gentleman while we went out on a date.

I was worried that I might be anxious about leaving him with a near-stranger (someone I know in passing from the climbing gym, and who babysits a friend's kids) but as it turns out all my anxiety was reserved for updating my "So You're Watching Our Kid" info sheet, and making sure we had plenty of food available.  Once she was here (and it was established that the Little Gentleman considered us totally interchangeable) I yelled, "Later!" and Nathan and I sped out of there so fast I'm amazed there were no spinning heads.  Maybe there would have been, if they hadn't been so absorbed in getting ready for a walk.

For the first stop on our ultra-romantic date, we hit WalMart (as you do) to pick up a couple of packets of candy.  But then we headed over to the movie theater proper, where I cursed myself for being paranoid and pre-buying movie tickets (including their stupid "convenience fee") because there were, like, ten people there, and three of them were employees.  But whatever, it's fine, I'll know better next time.  Anyway, Nathan bought his popcorn, we found our seats (in the middle of a very non-crowded theater, yay matinee) and snuggled in for some child-free entertainment.

We sat through trailers that seemed extremely not geared towards us (lots of horror- why so much horror?) and then?  Then it began.

And by "it", of course I mean Wonder Woman.

I'm going to be a lady, and not discuss any spoilers, but I will say this: when the camera panned over a bunch of the Amazons in training, I started to get a feeling of pressure in my chest, especially when one glorious, ripped specimen got hit across the back and didn't even flinch.  And then later, when the Amazons go into battle, that pressure in my chest crept up and into my eyes, and then suddenly I was silent-crying in the movie theater, as I watched beautiful, feminine women kicking absolute ass with their bodies, with swords, with arrows, with all manner of elegant weaponry.  And I realized that I was crying because it was everything I'd ever wanted in a movie, when I was a little girl, and that it had taken until I was 36 to get it.  I won't say it was worth the wait, because frankly it's bullshit that I had to wait so long to see an entire screen full of women doing that, but it was glorious.  So glorious, so gorgeous, that I'm willing to forgive the movie its faults (which mainly have to do with a-questionable-grasp-on-Greek-mythology, and the clunky writing that often accompanies a combo origin/adventure story that doesn't know when to call it's ending).  Definitely the good outweighed the questionable, that's all I'm saying.

I came away from the movie totally energized (and inspired to work out again because damn) but also totally ready to get back home to my baby boy, who will hopefully never, ever understand what made his mother cry during Wonder Woman.

Personal Plan 2017

I just finished up my rewrites on The Oathbreaker, which strikes me as an excellent time to make good on my vague promise to share part of my so-called Personal Plan for 2017 (as opposed to the Business Plan I wrote for the office- it's not business, it's pleasure!  Hah!).  After all, I've already achieved one of my strategies for a major objective!  Woo!

Vision Statement:  I will be a happy, healthy person who feels good about her accomplishments in life.

Objective:  Have a happy and healthy family unit
    -Strategy:  Make it a point to have a date with Nathan at least once a month
    -Strategy:  Do at least one family-hike per month
    -Strategy:  Get out camping at least three times this spring/summer/autumn


Objective:  Feel good physically
    -Strategy:  Do yoga at least 3x a week starting 1/1, upping it to at least 4x a week by 3/1
    -Strategy:  Ride my bike to work more often- at least 3x week during nice weather
    -Strategy:  Create clean meal plans with Nathan


Objective: Become a published fiction writer
    -Strategy:  Finish re-writing "The Oathbreaker" by 01/31
    -Strategy:  Submit a collection of short-stories to at least one literary agent by my birthday
    -Strategy:  Write at least one new novella-length (or longer) story by 06/30


That isn't all of it, but it is the most pertinent parts.  I've already made a good start to it, what with doing yoga four times this week (eight I guess if you count morning and night) and riding my bike to work four times (in spite of the face-flaying cold- sheesh).  And Nathan and I had a lunch-date yesterday, which totally counts.  We may not have refrained from talking about Neeps the entire time, but we did keep our phones put away, which is pretty huge.

And now?  Now I start rewrites on my original Princess and the Pea retelling, because I think it will pair nicely with Oathbreaker in a short-story collection.

Visiting Ghost Opa and Other Bonding Experiences

Today I did something that is, no getting around it, pretty damn weird.

I took my kid to a cemetery to take smiling photos with him on my father's grave (and also over my grandparents' graves).

Yeah yeah yeah, understandable, whatever- still weird.  Get use to it, kid: yours will be a lifetime of this sort of weirdness.

Anyway, after that we came back to my mom's house and did the A#1 thing I had planned to do while we were in Alabama in freaking August:

SWIMMING!

 Yaaaaay!  Now granted it started raining literally the moment we got in the pool, so we were not exactly having the sun-soaked experience I'd envisioned, but whatever we were swimming.  I even put my new suit to the test by doing a few dives: it held up.

After Neeps was put to bed, Nathan and I hit the town- specifically a nice little pub downtown.  We spent much of our date marveling over the fact that we were able to be on it in Prattville: this little town has changed a lot since we were teenagers.

We shut the place down (not hard to do on a weeknight) and then went for a walk on the waterfront.  Eventually we sat on a bench and creek/moon/pokemon-hunter watched for a while.  All in all, not a bad way to spend an evening in a (no-longer-)small southern town.

Paint the Town Green

Recently Nathan and I have found it a little difficult to remember that we're more than just roommates-raising-a-human together.

When our child is awake (and not at daycare), he's taking up the vast majority our time and attention.  After he's in bed, we're doing what needs to be ready for him to go back to daycare in the morning.  And once those chores are done?  Then we sort of do our own things, and since our primary 'own things' are solitary pursuits- Nathan playing video games, and me writing- we don't spend much time, you know, together.  Sure we might watch some tv, but that's not really quality togetherness (unless you're actually discussing the show, in which case it totally counts).

Tonight, however,  we had a capital-D Date, thanks to my mother informing us we were doing so, and furthermore forbidding us from discussing our offspring whilst on said date.

("It will be hard.  It will be extremely difficult.  But I know you can do it.")

So I got all fancified in my lemon cupcake dress and my true love shoes and even one of my vintage furs*, and I insisted Nathan put product in his hair, and then we hit the town!

Specifically we hit up The Thirsty Sasquatch, a "new" whiskey bar that I'd been meaning to get to since it was actually new, like a year ago.  The intention was to drink whiskey (or more likely bourbon, in my case) and chat like grown-ups, but when we got there we saw they had absinthe on the menu, and since we had just watched a thing about absinthe (causing Nathan to comment that he'd never actually had it) we decided to get fancy and order some.

Fancy, although not as fancy as some places.

So we slowly poured our water over our sugar (the carafes did not lend themselves to slowly dripping), and then enjoyed.  Not quite as much, however, as we enjoyed quietly mocking the other couple down the way from us, who were obviously on the First Date From Hell.  We're talking closed body language, no talking, staring at respective phones... until beer was chugged and they'd manage to talk for about five minutes, maybe even with a smile- but then they'd quickly sink back into staring boredly around them.  It was excruciating and fascinating all at once.

"Maybe they're just trying to get drunk enough to have sex?" I posited.  We agreed heartily that we're glad we never have to date again.  Because for real, if something happens to Nathan?  I'm probably just going to become a hermit.  With a baby.  A Bermit?  Anyway.

The bar started to fill up with loud and drunk people (who had gotten themselves that way on the Couve Cycle, which I really want to do one day) which made it hard to hear the live music we'd been enjoying, and impossible to hear one another, so we paid our tab and slipped out into the (still quite light) night for a stroll down Main Street.  We ended up stopping in to get ice cream as we walked and talked (chocolate for him, strawberry for me), and eventually made our way back to the car.

All in all it was a very good night, and we did manage to avoid discussing Neeps.  I'm feeling quite refreshed about our marriage at the moment, and all those little annoyances that were brewing towards my "roommate" (generally to do with cleaning things) have dissipated for the moment, subsumed by my love and affection for my husband, who is a fiercely intelligent and humorous man that I genuinely enjoy spending time with.

So.  Obviously we need to find an in-town babysitter, because I have plenty more pretty dresses that need wearing.





*("You look very Vancouver," said my mother, approvingly.  "Your outfit is fabulous!" said the older gay gentleman at the ice cream shop.  I'm counting it as a win.)

Found at the Bottom of a Glass

Nathan had his final woodworking class today, which meant I dropped him off early in the morning so that I could have use of the car for the day.  At the end of said day I met up with him at the Green Dragon, and we had a couple of pints and shared some fries.

gorgeous color in a cherry-pomegranate cider by Atlas

It was actually a lot of fun to just hang out together a bar, which is something we very rarely do, seeing as how we are cheap bastards.  But it was a good atmosphere, and we are clever and fun company for one another, so I'd say it was well worth it.  Plus, you know... happy hour makes it downright economical...  ;)

Year Two

Today is my two-year anniversary- that's cotton, for you traditionalists- and I have to say we celebrated in style.  Last night I suggested going out to eat in celebration, and as I was further suggesting that Nathan might get online and see if there were any restaurants he might like to try I had a brain flash-

"Marrakesh!" I blurted.

"What?"

"We're going to Marrakesh," I said, trying not to let myself be overwhelmed with delighted memory.  How could I have forgotten Marrakesh, home of my beloved Moroccan Soul Food?  Nathan, always down to try new things (especially when it comes to food), agreed readily, and it was a date.

After work I got all sexied up (in a dress conveniently without waistline) and we headed into town, found parking, and entered the restaurant.  I got the fun of watching my 6' husband fold himself down onto a floor cushion (he gallantly let me have the couch, since I was wearing a miniskirt), and couldn't help but feel smugly superior over the girl whose date refused to do the same.  Our waiter came over, poured water over our hands, and the five-course meal began.

First up was harira, a lentil soup not quite so good as that of Makarios, in my opinion, but still damn fine (and for those who actively enjoy tomato in their soup, it might be better).  It was followed by a cooling salad that seemed to be composed primarily of cucumber, tomato, and cilantro, with a large helping of what we think may have been spiced ground chickpeas (although we could be wrong) in the center.  After that was an appetizer called B'stilla Royale, which in theory is something that Nathan should hate: phyllo pastry stuffed with ground chicken and scrambled egg, and dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon.  Yes, in theory it makes his gag reflex kick in, but in practice- oh my.  He kept saying, "I'm waiting for this to gross me out, but it's just too good!"  I, on the other hand, was too busy stuffing my face to comment.  Although I was, perhaps, a little disappointed that he liked it, since it meant I didn't get the whole thing to myself...  talk about a perfect blend of savory and sweet...


After that we had a bit of a wait for our main courses, so we sipped our Moroccan beverages (Casa Beer for Nathan, and a red wine whose name escapes me for me) until at last they brought out the Couscous Marrakesh (couscous with vegetables and lamb) and Breka Vegetarian (phyllo stuffed with potato and herbs- basically like a samosa- served with a sort of vegetable stew).  Cue further noises-of-joy, although both of us had to leave our dishes half-uneaten (thank you, to-go boxes).  Once that was cleared away, the waiter poured orange-blossom-water over our hands, then served us a warm, delicate mint tea (poured from "up top" ie, four feet above the glass) and our desserts: a not-too-sweet pudding topped with shaved coconut and almond.  It was the perfect, light-weight ending to such an elaborate meal.


We rolled ourselves out of the restaurant and I suggested swinging by Powell's, where we each bought the other a book: a sort of anniversary-bonus-gift, since our real gift to one another was to go in together and buy grownup towels.  Bath sheets, to be more accurate, because Nathan was longing for a towel large enough to get lost in.  They're due to arrive sometime next week, so expect further squeaks-of-glee to follow.


So yeah- two years down, and I must say I still think it was the best decision I ever made.

                                                  (...although what's up with this picture?                                                   It didn't look this weird and grainy on the camera...)

 

 

Dear Fellow Patron of the Restaurant:

First, let me say that you are not wrong in your assessment that a baby crying in dining place is annoying. Now, I might posit that you should really give a family longer than 30 seconds to attempt to soothe said child and/or remove it from the premises, but yes, you are correct that a screaming child is obnoxious.

Not half so obnoxious, however, as a woman in her fifties(-trying-to-look-forty) who takes it upon herself to mock said child by making squalling noises of her own. Not only is that obnoxious, it is incredibly rude, awkward, and highly embarrassing for everyone witnessing it.

Did you think that perhaps the parents had not noticed their child's unhappiness? Or perhaps you felt that we, at the table next to yours, had not taken sufficient notice of it. (Well, as far as that goes you weren't entirely mistaken- it was a large family birthday gathering at the other table and I will admit I was more or less tuning them out, intent as I was on a pleasant meal with my husband, whom I had not seen in a week.) Well by golly, fellow patron, you made sure that all attention was on you when you started up with your imitation/nasty comments combo. Did you notice how the rest of the restaurant went quiet at that moment? I assure you it is not because we were joining you in giving evil looks to the family- it is because we were all staring at you, being mortified by your infantile behavior.

You see, a baby can't help but scream- they have no other way to express themselves. And parents really ought to be given a chance to do something about it before you decide to step in with your bizarre behavior. Furthermore, I must add that you really did not make a stronger case for your "martyred" status by proceeding to carry on at top volume about the many other problems in your life. I really cannot blame your beet-red dinner companion for ordering glass after glass of wine. If I had been him I probably would have just gotten the bottle, knocked you over the head with it, and made good my escape...

But then again, that might not have been dramatic enough for you.

Early Valentine's Day

I will be out of town this Valentine's Day, which was to have been our first as a married couple. Never ones to be slaves to dates on a calendar (I think most military brats are that way) we decided to split the occasion in two and observe it at our leisure. The first half we celebrated tonight with a meal as the sublime Bottega in Southside, the second half will be celebrated once I get back by going to see The Wolfman (I'm sure there's a love story in there somewhere...).

One of the nicest thing about going out to a fancy restaurant is having the chance to get all dolled up, which I most certainly took advantage of. I wore this salsa-inspired red dress which is entirely too short for the current weather, but that's okay because it gave me an excuse to wear my uroma's ocelot-and-mink coat. Now, I do not generally condone the making of new fur coats- but by golly, if you happen to have a vintage one laying around it seems to me a damn shame not to wear it at least once in a while. Especially when it's so freaking cold outside and the fur keeps you oh-so-warm... heavenly...

Speaking of heavenly, the food at Bottega's really was divine. It is such a privilege to be present when food transcends sustenance and achieves art, and that is definitely what happened on our plates and tongues tonight. Not to mention the lovely bartender who, when he could not meet my request for hot cocoa or a hot buttered rum, brewed up a lovely concoction of bourbon, lemon, and honey that warmed me right up.

All in all a highly pleasant evening.

But back to me being out of town.

I leave for Portland tomorrow, and I'm not sure what my internet access will be. I'll still be writing every day, but the updates may come in chunks as I find wifi... so hang in there, loyal readers... ;)