Sunday, October 5, 2008

Comin' together...

So, I forgot to take my camera when I went to lunch with Sam, but don't worry, it wasn't anything to write home about (tee hee hee).

First of all, they don't mark anything in the metro so I took a stairway exit instead of one with an elevator or escalator. When I called Sam to tell him I was going to be a few minutes late cuz I'd have to carry Lolo AND the stroller up two flights of stairs, I didn't even get the chance. I said, "Hey, I took a stair exit," and he was like, "Why'd you do that? I don't know what to tell you. You might as well just carry her because you'd be out by the time I got there." *eye roll* What a heel.

Still as I was walking along, still steaming from that, my eyes narrowed, my steps focused, he appeared in my path and it took me a second to recognize him. Instead of being a bitch, I said, "Hey, you know where we should go?" He said, "I can't go anywhere else but the restaurant, I have to go to work."


I can't finish a damn sentence?

So, I said that. "All I wanted to do was tell you we should go back to the Cafe Francais."

"I really have to go to work."

"I'm not talking about today, silly. In April."

"Why April?"


"What?" He says, that dumb lost look on his face.

"Nothing. Nevermind. You don't deserve me," I didn't mean to say it, but some part of me meant it. I just wish he'd have had ONE other girlfriend before we met so that he'd have had just a teensy bit more training.

"You wanna go home?" He started sulking.

"No, Sam, I don't want to go home. And I don't want to have to tell you why I want to go to the place we had our first beer on the ten-year anniversary of the night we first met. And I don't want to hear 'I don't know what to tell you' when I say that I've taken a stair exit. And I want to be able to finish a sentence without being jumped on. If you're too stressed out and presse to eat lunch out together during the week, just tell me because I'd rather not go through this every time."

"Oh.... Sorry."

Yeah, yeah. Sorry is not a cure. It's a band-aid.

Ugh. And the restaurant. *eye roll* I don't know why I keep going back to that place! I guess I do it out of nostalgia, somehow hoping it won't suck, but it always does. First of all, as soon as they see you coming with a kid, they're like "Uhhhhh...", as though once you have a baby, you should stop eating out. *eye roll* Then, they took forever getting us our menu--they took forever doing just about everything. In fact, we didn't even wait for the bill but just got our coats on and went to the register (not normal). The only good thing was that one of the servers actually recognized Lolo by name from when we went there in June. Blah. When I realized that I had just paid $15 for a salad I could make at home, I felt ill. Why even go out anymore?

Remember how we were supposed to go to my in-laws' house for lunch? Well, I hadn't wanted to go because I had so much stuff to do. But, because he said that we were going to have a raclette and because I felt bad that we hadn't been there in a few weeks, I agreed anyway.

As we set out on the trip, I didn't get a good feeling. The weather wasn't cooperating--cold and rainy--and that made the mountainous roads slick and spooky. Much of the road to their house is BRIDGE which as you know is susceptible to icing at low temps, right? I had to keep reminding Sam to slow down and to keep both hands on the wheel. He has been driving that road for years and years and years. And I understand that he knows it like the back of his hand and whatnot, but as soon as you get too comfortable... you know?

So, we get there and I put on my happy face and steel myself to deal with the day. Sam takes a preliminary load of stuff in (baby paraphenalia and stuff that we're returning) and comes back out to the van as I'm getting one of the kids out. "It's not raclette."


"I don't know why, but it's not raclette."

Okay, yes, I know that my being steamed over being deprived of cheese is a bit immature. I fully admit that and I own my immaturity. But there's something deeper going on here. Remember the LAST time they talked us into going to their house when I didn't want to? And remember how after we were already on the road, we found out that we were going to my sister in law's house?

Maybe I'm being paranoid or unfair, but part of me wonders why they can't just get shit straight. Look, I don't go there so I can spend the day dealing with my sister in law. And that weekend we went, I ended up catching that shit that kept me from running the Lyon half. And this weekend wasn't a good one to go either. I'm in the throes of working on my book and need to get it done before November among other things, but having a raclette is a ceremony. One that I feel brings me and my father in law closer together. I didn't want to say no to that. So, when I got there and saw that he had used it to lure me...


That, or... OR... he talked to my sister in law and told her that he was going to be preparing a raclette for us and she started in on "why can't they bring lunch for a change? Why do you have to go to the expense and trouble of buying them special things? Etc. Etc... They make good money... etc. etc..." I'm not sure if she really is saying this stuff, but my mind says she is.

Either way, throughout the meal, though I tried with all my might to make things pleasant, it just wasn't. There was tension from their side as well. Talk about your bad tastes in the mouth. As we were driving home, I told Sam that I would not be going to the raclette that they have planned in two weeks. I purposely did not bake Lolo a cake last weekend because I was told that this raclette in two weeks was supposed to be a celebration of all the autumn birthdays but in fact, no. The only birthday we are supposed to be celebrating is... ding, ding, ding... my SISTER IN LAW's!!! I won't ask him not to go, but I won't. I'm going to concentrate on my work. He can take the kids... That's who they want to see anyway. I just don't feel happy when I'm there. I don't even feel civil anymore. And since I'm not who they really want to see, I don't see any point in being there.

The GOOOOOOD news is this: I did seven miles this morning!!!!

I got up at 6 and ate an Activia and played on the computer a little so I'd be awake and get to use the "necessary" so I'd have a comfortable training session. I had only really planned to do five miles but thought that a loop around the park was about 2 miles. So, as I got there, I figured I'd just doo three loops.

Wellllll, I walked the first three miles, as usual. I kept a 14 minute mile walking pace and that. is. awesommmmmmme for only having been back just this week. Then, I ran mile four and kept my pace between an 11 and 12!!! I walked mile 5 and then I ran mile 6--again keeping it between an 11 and 12. Then, I figured I'd take the short cut back to the main gate, but the short cut was another mile!!! So, I got six miles of good solid training in and I did a mile around a 15 for cooldown. I consider that a nice solid training session.

I came home and did some ab work with my body bar. But after that, I was so hungry that I moved on for the day. I'm so happy and relaxed and empowered. And since I've had a huge bowl of mocha, a peanut butter tartine and a nice warm shower, I am so prepared for this lunch.

The lunch... Remember I told you we are going to Ryan's classmate's house for lunch because the little girl's mother has an American colleague they want us to meet? Well, because I'm so stoked and motivated to work, I almost don't want to go. Here's the thing. I can't help but have my judgemental hat on today. My bullshit filter is broken... So, if they end up being Hummer-kind. I'm going to smile and nod and try not to drink too much (because if I do, I might be myself and SHOCK them with my hairy pits and cloth diapers). If so, I'll duck out when they decide to go to the park for an after-lunch constitutional and I'll spend the afternoon working. Sounds good to me.

We'll see.

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