Solitude

I made the decision to try and make April a relaxing one. I did far too much in March and felt like I had no time to myself, so I have only two or three plans in April, and I'm going to try and keep it that way. I really need my time alone. My house also hasn't gotten a good cleaning in a few weeks. I've cleaned, but not like I need to. So next Sunday I'm going to clean this place from top to bottom, before I go and see my folks for Easter.

This weekend I went up to Twain Harte, where my folks have a cabin, all by myself. The plan was to have a girl weekend with my best friend, but her father passed last week. I decided to go anyways. She is still out of town attending to family stuff, so there is nothing I would've been able to do for her had I stayed home. I drove up the mountain and arrived to this:

We have had the place since I was about 2. I learned to snow ski at a nearby resort, and I have many fond memories of this house. It has changed a bit, since a few years back a tree came from up the hill, and destroyed the top floor. I really miss the kitschy 70s wallpaper in the kitchen, and the old counter tops, which are now covered in granite.

I laid around watching movies. I watched Beginners, and started bawling like a baby when Ewan McGregor's dad died. It made me think of my friend, and all she had done in the recent months to try and get her father sober and healthy, and how it was too late. His body was wrecked and it couldn't bounce back. I wish I could just hug her forever and do a spell to bring him back. I tried to enjoy my alone time in between thinking too much, and being too distracted to sit still through a movie. I must've gotten up six times during Beginners. Once was to get some coffee cake. When you are alone, you can put coffee cake in a bowl 'cause it just seems right, and no one will judge you for it.

Then, just as my mother predicted, it began to snow. My car is in no way capable of driving in the snow. I ran down and pulled the car to the bottom of the driveway, so I at least wouldn't slide in to the neighbors across the street when I attempted to leave and go home. Not shockingly, I started to panic. I got nauseous and threw up a few times before I could talk myself down and tell myself the worst that was going to happen, was that I'd have to call in to work Monday. But more important than that, Rich and my six month anniversary was last night, and I didn't want to miss it. I calmed down, and then looked out the window at this:

That there is my car, buried under a foot of snow. It was covered in much more yesterday morning when I started it up and cleared all the windows, to head home. In a world of miracles, a snow plow had come all the way up. This NEVER happens. Usually they just come up the main streets and clear them. Someone was looking out for me Sunday morning.

While I was freaking out, I did what I do best. I made a meal.

I had gone shopping early Saturday morning because my friend Lauren was maybe going to show up, and I wanted to be prepared just in case. One of her anxiety triggers is eating in front of strangers, so if she came up we were going to be eating in. I usually mostly eat out when I'm up there. Lauren decided not to come, but I'm lucky I had shopped, so I didn't have to try and battle the snow to get food. The house was fully stocked. I made a peppercorn crusted pork loin, asparagus, and rosemary garlic red potatoes. Then I did the second best thing I do, I ate it all up.

Well, okay, I didn't eat it ALL up as in my stress time I made enough for like five people. But I did eat that much. It was super delicious. By the time I was done with dinner and had a cup of coffee, I no longer felt like I was going to die.

On Saturday I watched Pretty Woman and The Blindside on ABC Family. I wondered why Pretty Woman was on a family channel, as I don't really find it child appropriate. Unrelated side note: that movie was supposed to be WAY darker. I met the writer and in his original script, Kit dies and Edward and Vivian do not end up together. Apparently after a studio buys your script they can do with it what they want. I like the fairy tale version of Pretty Woman, myself.

All in all, it was a good weekend where I got to think a lot. I think I was so anxietal because I really wanted to see Rich last night. I wanted to be with him. Six months may not seem like much, but this is my first sober relationship, so it's pretty special to me. I love that guy, even though I get mad at him sometimes. Also, I have not shaved his lip beard off while he's sleeping yet, so that's a good sign. The soul patch/flavor saver is my ALL TIME LEAST FAVORITE type of facial hair on a man. But as I wouldn't want him to tell me how to cut my hair, I would never tell him how he can or can't grow facial hair.

He had said he had something little planned, and that fell through, so he showed up with nothing but some eggs to help out for me to make breakfast for dinner. Expected Rich behavior. I said to him, "A homemade card, or some flowers would've sufficed. Showing up with nothing after you tell me you've done something, is really a let down." Typical of our relationship and not shocking at all. He's a genuinely nice guy, just really naive in relationship matters. I let is slide once again. I'm trying to appreciate he's a nice guy who gives me neck rubs, opens car doors, and really tries to let me know he cares about me. Unless of course that means showing up on an anniversary with a card or flowers. :)

I really try and live by the idea that you either accept someone for who they are, or you let them go. Not saying that there aren't things I would change about him if it were possible. But it isn't possible, so I am attempting to just let go, and accept that he does the best he can, and he's a truly kind individual. That is enough for me for now. Plus, he's a big snuggle bear. Last night when I was showing him the picture of my car covered in slow, he let me tackle him down on to the bed in the guest room and give him a huge smooch, then do one of those annoying things where you make a fart sound on someone's belly with your mouth. How many other grown men would let me do stuff like that?