Loving You...

“So, Honey. When I was gone, did you sit on the couch in your underwear, eating ice cream and talking to the cats?”

“No. Shyah.”

“Really?”

“Well, the cats wouldn’t sit with me and we don’t have ice cream in the house. I had to settle for a pudding cup.”

Run, Run

I am now happily seated on the 4:05 train heading toward Union Station in D.C., after a very productive meeting that went a little long (I was supposed to be on the 3:05 – ah well…). After we broke, I knew that the 3:05 train was out of the question, so I re-booked for an hour later. I was told I’d have to go to the counter to get a new ticket when I arrived at Penn Station, since my old ticket (which already printed out when I checked in for my trip yesterday) had to be cancelled. Fine, not a problem. So I head into New York, hitting a bit of traffic on the way, but nothing major, just a few slow patches. It then dawns on me that I was supposed to fill the car up with gas. Now, it’s been a long time since I lived in or around the New York metropolitan area. So the amount of time that I spend looking for gas stations in Manhattan these days is pretty minimal. I quickly did a calculation in my head, and then decided that I would just have to return the car half-empty (and then have to sell my eggs to pay for what the rental company charges for gas). I returned the car, hopped into a cab, and looked at my watch. 3:45. Hmm…well, if traffic wasn’t too bad and the line wasn’t too long, I might be able to make it. I had dramatic visions in my head of me running down a platform through a cloud of steam (in those movies, the trains are always surrounded by clouds of steam), yelling something like “hold the train! Please, I have to get on that train!”

All of which was complete crap, because of course there’s another train that leaves in an hour, so it’s not a big deal if I miss this one – it’s just annoying. The cab driver drops me off, and I haven’t been paying much attention (silly Mandy…). So I get out, and look across the street and see signs for the subway and the LIRR (Long Island Railroad).

Samanabastich. He dropped me at the wrong entrance.

I speed-walk my way around to the correct entrance, trot down the stairs, and see the line in which I’m supposed to stand. It’s not short. I silently fume (except for the part where I call Special K to tell him that I’ll be late – there was a little “AUNT MANDY, YOU SAID A BAD WORD” type of language there), and wait in line, since there’s nothing I can do, and no one in that station is responsible for the fact that I may miss my train. The second one.

It’s my turn at the ticket window and I explain that I was supposed to be on the 3:05, then the 4:05, but since it doesn’t look like I’ll make it, I should get a ticket for the 5:05. The girl looks at the clock, looks at me, and says “You have one minute, Miss. They may not have closed the doors yet…” and her hands start to move at a lightning pace. She flings my picture ID under the glass window at me, followed by my ticket, and as I’m asking her if I need to sign anything she said “No! Run, run!!” So I run, almost wiping out around a particularly sharp corner (almost), and bolting down to the train platform – the doors appear to be closed and as I turned to look at the bored Amtrak employee on the platform, the doors open, I run inside the train, and feel it pull out of the station approximately 5 seconds later.

Now, I know that in terms of real life drama, this rates very, very low. But it was still kind of fun. Even if there were no clouds of steam.

Leavin' Town

I’m off on a business trip – just a short one, I’ll be back tomorrow. I don’t do the kind of exotic, work-related travel I used to, and sometimes I miss it, but sometimes I’m fine with an overnight trip, instead of the possibility of being away from Special K for a month or two. (That would be rough – we haven’t even been married that long, after all.) I’ve been able to finagle my travel so that I can stop and see a friend along the way, which is always nice. So, I’ll hop off a train in New York this evening, go have dinner, then get a rental car and head up the Hudson River Valley. (Although, I have a feeling that they’ll give me a Pontiac G6 – which I’ve rented before and loathed. Horrible sight lines, which isn’t fun when you’re driving at night in unfamiliar territory.)

Special K is actually going to take me to lunch before dropping me off at the train. Yesterday, he said “so…do you want me to take you to the train station tomorrow?”, and I said “oh, that’s okay, I can just Metro over to Union Station. You don’t need to interrupt your day for that.” There was a bit of a pause and he said “well…I could take you to the train station…”, and I looked at him and said “do you want to take me to the train station because I’m going away?”, and he sheepishly nodded. (Aww…)

I’m now aboard the train, making my way toward NYC. As much crap as Amtrak receives, it’s been a very enjoyable trip so far. Of course, this route is one of their best in terms of reliability and such, but still. It’s too bad that people bitch about how much rail travel is subsidized and how it’s still a losing venture, when they don’t think about how much driving their car is subsidized without their knowledge. It’s more expensive than driving or flying (but not much, depending on how you do it), but it’s been a fairly mellow trip. Hop on train, give conductor ticket, wait for stop. I don’t think I’ve been on a train since I was in college, but it was always the one form of transportation that was moving when nothing else was (stupid blizzard of ’96).

The house is slowly coming together, and we’re figuring out how we want things to be. It’s kind of fun – and will be even more fun when we have our own place to fix up one day. (Again – not for quite some time. So let’s hope the current landlords don’t change their minds about anything else in the near future. That whole situation has me feeling a little uneasy, but that’s a separate issue.) Out of curiosity, I was perusing some home listings, and I saw a really cool-looking house that needed a bit of work in a nice part o’ the burbs; accessible to Metro and walkable to fun things, which would make the ‘burbs feel less burb-y. It was even a very reasonable price – especially for that area. Home renovation doesn’t scare me or Special K – as long as it’s structurally sound, we’d be game. When I casually mentioned it to him, I said “but that’s okay – we can’t buy it now, so it’s obviously not our house.” He just kind of smiled at me. It’s nice that he understands the somewhat odd ramblings of his somewhat odd wife.

Work is busy, but manageable these days. I’m often able to leave at a reasonable hour, which is nice. Of course, a reasonable hour in this office is any time before 7 – which is late for some people. (A new person in the office asked one of my co-workers if we always worked late, because he was here “really late” the other night. He left at 7:15. I suppose it’s all relative…) But as I said, I’m glad that things are more sane. It helps me be more sane. I’ve also been going running with a friend from work at lunch, and I’m slowly regaining some of my past abilities, which also helps me be more sane.

The train is about to pull into Penn Station, and I’ve just had a thought that’s so girly and nauseating, I can’t believe it. But I miss Special K. I know I’ll see him tomorrow, and we only said goodbye a few hours ago, but for some reason, I miss him.

*retch*

Domestic Bliss

(I wrote this several days ago, I just hadn't gotten around to posting. In case anyone besides me would notice narrative inconsistencies. Or something like that. Fine. I'm a geek.)

Well, sort of. The cats are still a little freaked out by the fact that their teeny-tiny paws make little thudding noises every time they walk, and the clothes of mine that are at the house are still in suitcases, so we’re working on that. We took the flowers that we had leftover from the wedding and trimmed the ends and put them into vases last night. This is a tribute to how much my flowers kick ass. They look AWESOME, even a week later, and it reinforces how much I love my florist and want to recommend him far and wide to everyone. EVERYONE. Not only for his creativity, fabulous personality, and all that. But also for the quality of the flowers that he chose. He is a genius.

But back to real life.

The house is becoming more livable, slowly but surely. The bedroom is largely organized, except for the suitcases of mine that I’ve yet to fully unpack. The living room looks pretty good, too, and the kitchen is definitely functional. So things are moving forward, and it’s a good feeling. What’s even better is that I used my feminine wiles to get Special K to drive me to work this morning (which basically involved me saying “so…Honey…don’t s’pose you’d want to drive me to work, would you…?” and batting my eyelashes slightly) and it only took 35 minutes! The commute from my old apartment was never less than 55 – 60 minutes. Yay for a shorter commute! I’ve told Special K that I’d love to buy a house in the area where we’re living now, it’s a really interesting, older area that has lots of houses with actual personality! We shall see – at the moment, we’re not in a position to buy anything more ambitious than the groceries we’re buying tonight. It’s fine – we’ve got a plan, but that plan doesn’t involve homeownership for a while still.

I know it’s only been a few days, but married life is good. I have more fun with Special K than with anyone else, so I can’t think of a better person to spend my life with. It’s hard to really explain what’s different about being married, but something definitely feels different. It’s a good feeling, though.

I think I’ll keep him.