Thursday, May 05, 2005

Back from the bed

Another lovely, long, weekend.

It took me a few days to recover from that one. Having several different styles of Olympics in a short time-span does a number on my energy levels. And truth me told, I'm not used to spending so much time with another person. Dude! That was my towel! But it was all worth it.

I got off work early last Thursday and raced home to put the finishing touches on my house and myself. Everything was fluffed and buffed when I heard footsteps coming towards my front door and I sprung off the couch like I'd been launched. He'd just spent a good 7 hours on the road and I didn't let him get through the doorway before jumping into his arms. His shaved head a sight for lonesome eyes.

We tumbled into the house and settled into getting reacquainted in person again. Leisurely sitting on the patio having a smoke and a laugh. Holding hands on the couch. Relishing his lips on mine. After a trip to gather some provisions we spent the rest of the night watching movies, relaxing, and topping it off with some [censored by the Parental Advisory Council of You'd Be Seething With Jealousy if I Told You What He Did To Me].

Friday was a quiet stroll through the day. Sleeping late and lazing around until we were ready to emerge from our cocoon. After he cooked us up his famous omelets and hash browns, we decided to go see a movie. Neither of us have the chance to go to the theater very often and I for one was looking forward to it. He chose the flick and we slogged through Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy. Frankly, I was more interested in the pile of junkfood on my lap. What is it about movie popcorn? Damn, I love that stuff. And I don't like to share. Lucky for me he wanted his own nachos. Get the fuck off my popcorn, man.

The movie was "eh" but it was fun to go. He thought it blew. I'm not a current member of this exclusive club of Hitchhikerphiles. I've never read the books and was not in the know about the towel. That stupid fucking towel. Didn't seem funny to me but maybe I'll get it when I finally trudge through the 10 pounds of bound fantasy.

We decided to go the San Diego Zoo on Saturday and thankfully the showers that soaked the earth on Thursday had moved on. It was a bright, sunny day and I hoped it wouldn't be too crowded. I often forget I live in a tourist town, but am grossly reminded whenever I frequent one of our popular attractions and am molested by throngs of tourons. Jesus H, where do all these fucking people come from? Kindly get your black-socked sandle-bedecked foot off the back of my heel, Cliff from Dayton, or I'll be forced to shove that Churo up your ass.

We got to the Zoo at the same exact time as approximately 40,000 other people, give or take 599 strollers, that had the same idea for weekend entertainment as we did. But since I'm a member of the Zoological Society, we cut right past the lines of 18 member families and soared through the turnstyle after I flashed my card. It would be so nice if I were actually that important in real life.

I'd made one huge faux pas and been incredibly stupid by telling him about the infamous snake house. A four-sided abode that contains a myriad of disgusting, fetid, horrifying, slimy, stinking, foul, unnatural, deformed, grostesque, fugly fucking reptiles found in all four corners of the world. And him being a penis owner, just had to go see it.

I was a brave little soldier and looked at a few of the creepy crawlies. Then I did a lot of squealing, quite a few heebie-jeebie dances and one plummet to the ground grabing at his leg when we ventured outside to peer at an exhibit that contained some colorful lizards and unfortunately for me, the sickest, most repulsive, obscence, gigantic snake-like wormish legless demon spawn reptile things in the history of the worst of the worst living creatures in all the world. And it was chasing the lizards. GO LIZARDS!! GET AWAY FROM THAT THING! I get the shivers just thinking about it. It was HORRIFIC. Seriously. Blech.

In order to wash away the vile snake-house, we went into the children's zoo where we could see newborn baby cheetahs just a few days old and moseyed into the petting corral to scratch stinky goats. Then we walked about 400 miles uphill and called everything in the zoo puppy like big dorks, inbetween seeing almost every creature take a shit. Talk about a weekend of ass. So I decided to take pictures of nothing but butts. There were some nice ones. When crap wasn't coming out of them.

I barely remember Saturday night. But I think there was food and showers and snogging and the discovery of a blister. More movies and falling asleep on the couch. Because we're 65. Or at least I am. He's 59.

Sunday I declared do-nothing day. And we pretty much did that, less a couple trips to the store for more junkfood. It was nice to hang out in complete relaxation, not having to worry about anything. And I got to complain every 5 minutes about some ache or pain without being shushed. I even took 2 naps. Oh happy day, 2!

After our day in the sun, I'd been so hot, sweaty and physically miserable all day, my body decided to react to that and my skin became uber hyper-sensitive. (It still hasn't gone away.) My body totally freaked out after the cancer diagnosis, surgery, radiation, etc. I'm truly a different person inside and out and I'm trying to accept the fact that it takes on average 5 years to recover from this shit, so it's something I constantly worry about burdening another person with.

When I get like that it's beyond uncomfortable to be touched in the slightest. Even certain clothing drives me crazy to be against my skin. This amounts to a total suckfest. When you want to be draped all over your beloved and it's akin to fingernails on a chalkboard, it's a precarious position to say, I love you, but get the fuck off me. So that blew, but I'm lucky that he doesn't take shit like that personally. And hopefully someday I'll figure out what the hell that's all about.

The alarm went off the next morning at some ungodly hour, he got ready in the dark and kissed me goodbye. But! I was surprised by an extra night of snuggling on Monday when he flew back in from a day in Vegas. I was still very tired and slightly cranky after a crap day at work, but it was cool. And he respects (laughs at?) my addiction to reality TV and the 30 minutes I totally ignored him while we watched Road Rules/Real World Challenge, the Inferno II. Ha Ha Tina, you cow, Dan totally bitchslapped your ass. -snap snap snap-

I feel the relationship moving into another stage and I likes it. Any new love is so exciting and every little exchange takes your breath away. But I know that can't possibly be maintained and I enjoy it when things get into a comfortable grove. When you like being in the same space but don't feel obligated to each other's existence. It's calming.

It's all scary as hell, but something to be treasured. And that's always nice.

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