We speak DC

A little while ago, I told SM that I was hungry. He asked me if there were anything he could do to remediate the situation.

I told him he's been working for the government too long.

Talking 'bout Swiss cheese

… continued from the baseball/mole post …

So, there I was… pregnant but not; worried but not; generally feeling ill and definitely taking the rest of the day off. I really did struggle with the decision to tell SM my news right away or wait until after work. I knew he had a busy day, and I wondered how much of my wanting to spill the news was borne of my need for a sympathetic ear. That is, how much of my decision was based on selfish motivations v. thinking of what he would want? In the end, I decided that if the shoe were on the other foot, I would want to know immediately of any of his health concerns, and I would want to share the burden with him, rather than him having to suck it up. I figured he’d probably feel the same.

So I called him and asked if he wanted to meet for coffee. He was a bit confused. I told him I wasn’t going back to the office after the appointment, that I was taking a sick day (it was already around 4:00, so what was the point?) and going home. That took a second to sink in. I asked if he were busy. He said he was, but he would always make time for me and that he was happy to meet me at the Starbucks near the metro. I got on the metro and then called him when I got there. He took a few more minutes to make it over. I already had my drink of choice (a mocha milkshake from Potbelly, yum!), so he got his java and joined me at a table outside.

How do you start a conversation like this? How do you tell your husband this kind of news so that he doesn’t assume the worst or get the crap scared outta him? I wanted to ease into the conversation without alarming him, so I started with, “I have good news and bad news.”

"The good news is that I now know why I’ve been feeling so crappy lately,” I told him.

Then I sped up and basic spewed out, “The bad news is that it’s because I have a molar pregnancy, which means that my body thinks I’m pregnant but I’m not really. But that’s why I’ve been feeling crappy lately, but there isn’t a baby or anything. But there’s all this extra tissue developing in my stomach, and I have to have a procedure on Friday to take care of it.”

Etc., etc., et cetera…

I practically dumped the information over his head, making sure to get the most relevant information out as quickly as possible so that he wouldn’t have time in between to think, let alone get too worried. Of course, he was still concerned and stunned and probably felt like he had been whacked upside the head, which was still spinning. He definitely had the “deer in the headlights” look on his face. Poor SM. He had no idea any of this was coming. He thought he was there to meet me for a nice mid-afternoon-escape coffee-break.

Anyhoo, I filled him in on all the details as I knew them, regaled him with a blow-by-blow account of how my day had gone and asked him if he thought it would be a problem for him to take off Friday. If he couldn’t do it, then I felt sure my mother could come with me. Of course, he wanted to be with me and said he’d make it happen (it’s amazing how few questions get asked when you tell your boss you need a day off because your wife needs surgery). We chit-chatted a bit more. I wanted to make sure he was comfortable with what I was telling him, not totally freaked out by (1) the pregnancy news or (2) the “I need an operation” news. But he’s not the type to get freaked out that way. He took it in his stride and told me that the only thing he cared about was my health. We sat there for a while and talked about stuff, but then he had to get back to the office. He left, and I went home for the day. I was still a bit shaken up, and the last thing I wanted to do was put on a good game face and head back to my office.

The next day I came into work to discover a box of flowers on my desk. It turns out that SM had ordered me roses for Valentine’s Day; they had been delivered the day before – the day when I didn’t go back to the office after my doctor’s appointment, which explained why SM was so surprised when I told him that I decided to take the rest of the day off. What a sweet man. He didn’t spill any of this at home the evening before, so the roses were a complete surprise the next day (which was Wednesday, February 11th – I know this because I had my procedure on Friday, the 13th). I still have the dried roses on my desk. The leaves are falling off, and they’ll probably make a mess as they continue to disintegrate, but they are just lovely to me.

Somehow I got through the rest of the week. I’m guessing that no one wants to hear about my hospital visit on Friday, but I may post a few observations anyway. It was my first time to be wheeled in a gurney down to an operating room. Kinda like you see on TV, but not… and all very weird for me.

The thing I started writing about earlier...

The set of articles on the New York Times website. I found them interesting and useful. I suppose it says something about my age that I was attracted to articles on "what you need to know" about...

Estate Planning
Health Insurance
Home Insurance
Income Taxes
Credit Scores

The estate planning article also included a link to a site where it will apply the laws of intestacy of your state and give you a basic breakdown of what will happen to your assets if you die without a will. That was useful. I had assumed that since I am married but without children, my husband would get my estate in its entirety. I was wrong. My parents will get half.

They don't need half, nor do I want them to have it (believe me, their estates are worth a whole helluva lot more than mine). So, now I'm gonna look into doing a basic will.

That's my PSA for the month.

So, we got hitched yesterday.

Along with thousands of other couples (including a friend of mine out in San Francisco -- congrats K and K!).

And yea, we chose the date for all the same reasons.

Day one of husband and wife, and so far, so good!

Coming down to the wire...

and what is this couple, soon to say sayonara to our singledom, doing on the eve before our wedding?

Sitting on the coach in our sweats, checking political blog stories and watching Olbermann on tivo.

Woo-hoo. Sexy, eh!

Keep your fingers crossed for me...

I saw a forecast that the weather on Friday is going to be clear, highs of 86 or so and lower humidity. In other words, perfect for the wedding. In other words, probably ain't gonna happen... but that's okay. So long as it doesn't rain. Sunday is also supposed to be nice, but if you've only got one hand to spare for the crossing of the fingers, please wish for good weather on Friday (and you don't have to have them crossed as long).

Things are rolling along. I managed to do everything on my list for yesterday. Yay. SM and I enjoyed dinner, although he is starting to get sick. I imperiously told him that that was NOT allowed. I mean, WTF? Who gets sick in August? So he stayed home from work today to rest. I think he's really exhausted, and that's why he's sick. Just plain run-down. So no errands or chores for him. Just rest. And lots of drugs and vitamins, etc. And snuggles from Gidget, who will be happy to have him home with her.

He also liked his presents. I thought he'd like the shirt the best. It's black silk with two white stripes down the sides, short-sleeved. It's very retro hip -- but conservative enough that he can wear it to the office.

But I was wrong.

He liked the messenger bag the best. In fact, he gushed over it. Cool

He doesn't usually gush over presents, so I was surprised. But yay. Glad he liked them.

And I managed to refrain from giving him the wedding present yesterday too. Now I just need to remember to give it to him on Friday!

Happy Birthday SM!

Today is SM's birthday. He's 39. Yup, I's gots me a younger man. With all of the fuss and prep and stuff for the wedding this Friday (yes, this Friday!), his birthday completely fell off my radar. Which is weird for me because I am all about birthdays.

Good thing I shop all year round. I had his presents months ago. Good thing I asked him what he wanted to do when it was on my mind. I made a dinner reservation weeks ago. We're going here. We've eaten there before. SM loves it, and it's a bit of a splurge, especially given the spending we're facing down this week. But who cares... it's going to be de-lish!

Since I know he isn't reading the blog these days (I told him not to). I can tell everyone else that for his birthday, I'm giving SM a Coach messenger bag that kinda looks like this, except the hardware is silver, not brass. And it's leather on the outside but much of the inside is nylon (not as heavy). I'm also giving him some Democrat cufflinks and a silk shirt.

I like giving presents (I went totally overboard with the gift bags for my reception... oy vey) and am fighting the urge to give him my wedding gift today too. I. must. resist. For the wedding, I bought him another pair of cufflinks -- in the shape of the infinity symbol -- and a French cuff shirt to wear the day of. No, he doesn't usually wear cufflinks or French cuffs to work. For a man who usually has button-cuffs, he will have an inordinate number of cufflinks (because I gave him Red Sox ones for Christmas one year). But that's okay. I'm sure he'll have occasion to wear them all.

So, even though he isn't reading this, I'm wishing my Sweet Man a happy birthday!

One more ring story.

Because that last one wasn't long enough? (If you haven't read it, the next post below, read it before continuing with this one -- it's long, but it's the context.)

Well, actually, this is a story about SM's family. SM grew up with one brother and his parents in New England. His mother, sadly, died of cancer at the very young age of 51, seventeen years ago. SM's father remarried some years later.

So when SM and I decided to get hitched, I asked him if his dad might still have any of his mom's jewelry. I wanted something to represent her in the wedding. So she would be there too.

SM, of course, had no clue about his mom's jewelry, let alone what happened to it. But he knew why I wanted something and agreed to ask his dad about it.

So he called his dad to ask. His dad didn't say much, but later he sent this email to SM:

When your Mom and I got married, we could not afford an engagement ring.

Years later when I was working for [XYZ company] and life was good, she decided that she wanted a "rock". She did not care if it was flawed, she just wanted a big ring. (I still have that ring.)

In time she did not like that the flaws were so easily apparent to the naked eye and clearly we could afford something better, so we got her a new ring. I think that it is sometimes called a dinner ring. It is very pretty and looks to be of good quality.

You can have either ring.

One of her diamond earrings was lost when the ambulance took her to the hospital just before she died. The insurance company replaced it but I gave one of the earrings to [SM's brother] and the other to [stepmother] (I had it re-set and [stepmother] does not know that it came from your Mom).

I gave her pearl earrings to [her mother, SM's grandmother]. I have no idea what happened to them.

[SM's mother's sister] asked for your Mom's charm bracelet. This was the toughest of all her possessions for me to part with. The charms had real sentimental meaning not only to your Mom but to me as well. Perhaps you could ask [the aunt] if she still values it. If not, maybe that would be something that she would pass on to you.

I also have your Mom's Hummel and Balik collections. I have thought that at some time I would hand out one per kid at Christmas time. This is not anything that would appear on Antiques Roadshow, but you might appreciate the sentimental value in them.

Let me know what you think.

Thanks [SM], for allowing me to remember all this. Sometimes I miss your Mom a lot. This is one of those times. Whenever we had a big deal going on (like vacations and big events or purchases) she would just feel it and be in the groove and get it organized and make it work. Your wedding would be a wonderful event for her.

Isn't that amazing? I hope SM inherited that self-awareness and sensitivity.

Anyway, so SM and I discussed it. I asked him if he remembered the second ring, but he couldn't picture it. He thought it was shaped like a flower.

I told him quite frankly that a flower-shaped ring wasn't something I'd pick, but the point of this was to have something of her. My taste wasn't the issue or the central concern. I also told SM that I thought it might be nice if we let his younger brother (who has trouble with money-management issues) have the engagement "rock". I already have my rock and don't need another; plus, it's likely that the younger brother, when the time comes, will not be able to afford a diamond engagement ring. While I probably would prefer a solitaire over a flower-shaped design, I thought it much more important to pass the engagement ring to the brother. So, sight-unseen, we decided to accept the second ring. Which we did. And SM's dad will bring it down when he visits later this month.

I'm really pleased that I'll have these very important women represented during the wedding.

I was even more pleased when I saw this picture of the second ring.

Not only am I fortunate to have this heirloom symbol to represent SM's mother, but I'm also lucky that I actually think it's quite nice.

What's your happy thing today?

No, that's not a euphemism for something dirty. I mean it literally -- what has made you happy today?

I routinely ask SM what his happy thing is. It is so easy to get caught up in the stress of work and focus on negative things that we both make an effort to proactively focus on positive things. We think that the power of positive thinking is all it takes to "happify" yourself, to switch gears and improve a mood.

Sometimes SM's answer is as simple as "I had a great turkey sandwich for lunch" or "I finished that project that's been hanging over my head." And that gives me the opportunity to positively reinforce his good mood or accomplishment.

Sometimes his answer is sweet and sappy like, "Getting to see you at the end of the day" -- for which I make fun of him (because yes, that is our relationship -- he's the mush-head) and then give him a big hug.

And sometimes, he has to think a bit before he comes up with an answer. These are the times that the "happy thing" question is most valuable -- because it pulls him out of whatever mood he's in and makes him think about how his day was good, if even for a moment.

While there may be more, I've already had a "happy thing" today.

Here it is... I had bought a light spring-weight jacket uber cheap sometime last year in the winter. It was so cute and on such a good sale that I couldn't pass it up. The problem was that the only size available was smaller than I took at the time. Did that stop me? Of course not. I'm a shopping kinda gal, and we gals sometimes buy stuff that is a size too small with the intention of shrinking ourselves to fit.

Yeah, I know. Who is kidding whom? Not exactly prudent spending.

Well, that's what I did with this coat. I bought it anyway. I figured that it was so cheap that if it didn't ever fit or I decided I didn't like it, I wasn't out a lotta money so it didn't really matter. And it went in my closet. For more than a year.

This morning, I decided to try it on. Low and behold -- yes! -- it fit perfectly (not even any pulling across the chest). So I ripped the tags off the jacket and wore it to work.

Yay. That's my happy thing. What's your happy thing?

Wedding logo?

Well, not exactly a logo, but kinda a logo. I developed this to use on the invitations for our actual ceremony -- the August 8th Friday event that only our immediate families will attend, not the Sunday shindig for all of our family and friends.

We decided to use the infinity sign as a symbol of the wedding and our relationship. Ya' know, an 8 turned on its side?

Whatcha' think?

My eeeeuw moment of the morning

SM gets up and out earlier than I do. Always. His usual wake-up time is 6:00. He has a leisurely breakfast, walks the dog, reads the paper, showers, etc. and then he's out the door at 8:00. It's relaxing time for him.

Getting up early is not a problem for SM. He's a morning person. Me? It would kill me. I tend to sleep in until the last possible second. I forgo makeup and opt for a ponytail for the extra two minutes it gives me to sleep. I'm a night person. I would rather stay up until 5:00 am then get up at 5:00 am.

Today, SM had to be at work a bit early, so he got up at 5:00. Part of his routine is to make the coffee. We now have this awesome coffeemaker that doesn't use a pot on a warmer but rather an urn. This one. It holds the coffee in a warmer and then you serve yourself one mug at a time. The coffee doesn't go stale as quickly. So SM can make a pot for himself when he gets up and then I can have some when I get up, um, a bit later, without making a new pot (with our old coffeemaker, the coffee would have been baked by the time I got up). That's part of our usual routine.

So, I went to get coffee this morning and saw that the coffeemaker was off. I remembered that SM had gotten up extra early today and figured that it had just switched off. So I did what I sometimes do and poured water into the reserve and turned the coffeemaker on again to brew a bit more coffee using the existing grinds -- and warm what was already in the "pot". Then I poured myself some coffee and added some milk. It wasn't very warm, so I put my mug in the microwave for a few seconds. Then I took it upstairs with me. I had one sip when I remembered that SM told me that he had left the milk for me (because we are low and he wanted to make sure I had enough for my breakfast -- isn't that sweet?). That means that SM didn't have his coffee this morning. That means that he didn't make coffee this morning. That means that the pot in the maker was leftover from yesterday morning.

Eeeuw.

I didn't finish my mug.

I need coffee badly now.

I'm sick. Therefore, I meme.

Why is it that I am developing this habit of getting sick over long weekends? This time, it's a headcold with sinus puffiness and achy muscles. No stomach eruptions. Thank gawd.

And so rather than subject everyone to my whining because I am getting sick, I'll meme. This one courtesy Harmless Error.

Here goes...

The Rules: Pick one past posting about each of the following:

Family.
Friends.
Yourself.
Something you love.
Something you choose.

1. Family: Well, I could kvetch about what a pain my grandmother can be or why I am concerned that my future in-laws are treating SM unfairly... or I could remind everyone what a fantastic little nephew I have. He's always the light of every gathering, and his antics are so amusing. Stay tuned for another dozen or so years to see if this is just a fad or who he really is inside.

2. Friends: This post is about friends in a peripheral way. My friends have helped me to amass this collection. And frankly, I consider these faces to be my friends. I could post about book club or other friends, but there aren't any pretty pictures to look at. So you get masks instead.

3. Me: My vanity in being the only person in the world with my name was toppled with a recent google search that found another (but I'm the original!). But really, I should post about how I've lost basically 30 lbs. since the end of September. 'Cuz that's pretty darn cool.

4. Something I love: So many choices. You pick (sorry, had to break the rules 'cuz I couldn't stick to just one).

5. By Choice: Any edition of the Monday morning haiku. Because, as much as it's a Monday morning monkey on my back, they've been fun to write.

I chose not to tag for this meme. I don't want to spread my germs. However, feel free to snag, absent the tag.

I'm a quick start.

SM is a fact-finder.

He sent me the article. Hmmm. Wonder why?

I guess we can't say we weren't forewarned!

Thanks, everyone

for all of the congratulations and lovely comments. I'm still getting used to the "being engaged" thing. Nothing has shifted in our relationship, but I know that others (read: family members) imbue the decision to make it legal with their own meaning.

Which is fine. I'm okay with others interpreting our decision to mean whatever they think "marriage" means. I'm even okay with their calling it a "marriage". I just have HUGE-ANTIC, GINORMOUS problems with the word "marriage" because of how the religious right has politicized it and defined it and used it to exclude people in love. For that reason, I will not call the legal arrangement a "marriage".

Oh, don't get me wrong, SM and I are committed to each other. We love each other. We already have a family and a house. Our finances and our lives are inextricably mixed. We rely on each other. We are partners. In fact, but for the legal benefits of this little ceremony, I would be totally, 1000% okay with not getting "married" (unionized!). I admit, however, I do want the legal benefits. The emotional and social benefits? I already have a relationship that is incredibly supportive and happy -- a piece of paper won't change that. The social benefits? I could give a shit.

But I also recognize that it does mean something to SM for us to take this step. And if that would make him happier, I'm totally okay with that too. Now, I don't want this to sound like the decision to get hitched is purely a concession on my part to him. It's not. I do want to do it too, just not for the same exact reasons. Our legal union and the promises contained therein have more symbolic meaning to him, and that symbolism is more important to him than me. I have never been the type to dream about what my wedding would be or design my wedding gown or any of that stuff. It's just not me. Heck, the whole idea of a ceremony focused on me for such a very private sharing of emotions makes me a bit queasy. Forget the big, poofy gown and the walking down the aisle. I'd rather elope. For me, the whole legal thing is important for exactly that -- the legal aspects. I completely eschew, reject and will not tolerate any religious overtones to this union. Here again, let me be clear. For me, the point of making a relationship legal is the benefit of the legal protections. My relationship already has everything else I could hope for. I do not need or want religious sanction. I do, however, want legal sanction. Therefore, there will be no religion. We have love and commitment and fidelity on our own. We do not need the church to make those promises to each other; they are inherent in our relationship already... which goes back to my point that I'd be perfectly happy to keep things as they are, except I want the legal benefits.

I know that sounds unromantic, but think of it this way: we do not need anyone's blessings or sanction. We have that on our own. In fact, we are so commited to each other that we want to ensure that should anything happen to one of us, that the other is taken care of. Isn't that the basis of a "marriage" anyway? Now, we could do that by all sorts of legal documents or we could get unionized. We're doing the latter. It's easier. And it has meaning -- for SM and our families.

And, yeah, we'll have a big ol' party too. Small ceremony, just the basics. But a blowout bash to celebrate with everyone we care about. I can't not have some kind of ceremony. My mother would be devastated. I am her only daughter, and I know that my wedding, whatever form it may take, is something she has been looking forward to since I was born (probably anyway). In the past many years, she has learned that she needed to temper her expectations, but I have always known that my wedding was something she wanted to be a part of. And she's my mom. I'm happy to do that for her.

So while SM and I are making it legal for our own reasons, we will have some kind of ceremony to include our families. We haven't worked out how to do the ceremony (small scale) and still do the party (large scale), but we may do something over a long weekend that involves a ceremony one day and a bash the next day.

I dunno. Is it weird to have a wedding where the majority of the guests are invited not to the ceremony but to the reception? Would you travel out of town for a wedding that didn't include the actual wedding?

But that's what we're thinking. No date yet. Not even a year. On the one hand, I'd like to get hitched now, but I recognize that we can't do that without including our parents. And we are no where near prepared to deal with those expectations and that level of planning and... ya' know.

So, in the meantime, we're happily status quo. The ring hasn't changed how we view each other or our relationship... except that it may have impacted SM's finances just a bit. Others may look at us differently now that we have publicly stated our intentions (and some have even said as much -- and I don't know what exactly that means!), but nope. Just the same old us. With a rock on my left hand.

Pictures of snow and ice

It snowed the day we arrived (::groan:: don't ask), so there was snow on the ground the entire time we were there. It was gorgeous. Made for very picturesque sight-seeing... and limited our outdoor explorations to short trips. We went from 70-degree (20 for you celcians) weather in DC, which was weirdly warm, to below freezing in Quebec. It was a rough transition for us, although we did have the proper clothes, shoes, etc. But because it was so cold, we didn't do as much exploring as we might have otherwise. Glad we were staying is a nice hotel...

Now, I have to say that none -- NONE -- of these pictures do their subjects justice. Everything is so much more brilliant and gorgeous and wonderful than can be captured on camera.

But with that disclaimer, here's the snow and ice scenes from Quebec City!

The snow! Just an average doorway in the Old City... but I thought it was lovely.

The Chateau Frontenac and the wall, as seen from the lower city.

The funicular (cable car) that goes up the hill between the lower city and the Old City.

Rue du Petit-Champlain, the main street in the lower city and purportedly the oldest shopping district in North America. Doesn't it look like something out of a Christmas card?

And, yeah, the ice. I am cheating here. I did get this hunk of ice in Quebec, but this picture was taken in our family room at home earlier tonight.
(Sorry, we couldn't do better with the focus. It's definitely much more sparkly and shiny in person... and I'm still not used to it!)

More details about the actual trip another time. Off to eat dinner!

Ba-da-bling!

SM bought-a-ring. And I said, "Yes." Last Friday.

Yup, that's right. As in sparkly rock on my left hand. As in, one of these days, we'll make our relationship legal. One of these days.

It feels weird.

Just because

SM sent me these... he says because he hasn't gotten me flowers in a while.



Awwww!

My camera phone doesn't do these justice. They're even more vibrant and wonderful and smellilicious in person.

The dating scene

::sigh::

The dating scene. I thought my days dating were over. I was never any good at it, and frankly, I didn't have much practice.

Oh, I've had a bunch of boyfriends and several serious relationships. But I never really played the field. Maybe that's why I went out with some of the guys that I did -- to have a boyfriend and save myself from "dating"?

Nah.

Anyway, I feel like I'm back in the dating scene.

Why? Because SM and I are trying to develop "couple friends" -- folks that both of us like and can hang with, rather than situations where one of us knows one of them and the other two are just along for the ride. You know what I mean?

So we have our first "couple date" tomorrow, although I would never say that out loud (just write it on my blog). I have invited over a woman from my book club and her fiance. I really like her, and to the extent I've gotten to know him, I like him as well. And I think SM will like him as well.

I feel like a matchmaker.

It would be nice to have couple friends around whom we are comfortable such that we can hang and no one feels like they have to play host or anything. Or take pains to ensure that everyone is included. Because we'll all be comfortable enough in each other's space that it just doesn't matter.

Like I said, it's just like dating. I've got all of the same thoughts and emotions running through me...

"Will they like us?"

"I hope we find stuff to talk about" (that won't be a problem because the other woman is just as chatty as I am)...

You know how it goes.

The pressure is somewhat off because we have met and interacted before. And I think we all have a lot in common. So this is kinda just an experiment.

But I'm still a little nervous.

You all out there firmly planted in coupledom -- how do you meet and make couple friends?

Wow, I got me a keeper

So, SM and I were talking about having kids tonight. Not just hypothetically, but whether we want to do this. 'Cuz if we do, it should probably happen fairly soon. I'm gonna be 40 in six months, and no matter how young I look, my eggs are starting to go rotten -- and as much as having kids scares the hell out of me, having kids with developmental problems scares me more (not because I'd love them any less but because I'd worry that I wouldn't live up to them).

And no, we're not talking marriage.

But maybe a kid next year.

Yea, that will go over well with the grandparents. But, then again, both of us have (step) sisters who got pregnant quite young and had a kid... and then had another kid by another guy. And a failed marriage (just one, not two) in there as well.

We're not planning on that. If we were to do this, it would be a planned pregnancy. Planned absent a marriage. It might take some 'splainin' but that's okay.

SM also told me that if we had a kid together, not married, that he would fully expect the kid to have my last name. I then asked him what would happen if we got married later -- would subsequent kids, if there were any, have my name or his? He said that he would expect the kids to have the same last name, which essentially means they'd all end up with my last name (which is, if I may say, infinitely cooler than his last name).

I then challenged him -- "What if we were married and had kids? Why couldn't they have my last name if we were married? What difference does it make if we're married or not since I won't be changing my name?"

And so he thought about it.

And decided that it didn't make any difference. That he didn't have a problem with our kids having my last name regardless.

I pushed him further to ask about grandparental concerns, tradition, patriarchical social expectations, etc. because he and his brother are the last in their line (and his brother isn't exactly looking like he'll ever settle down, much less have a family)...

He thought about it and decided he didn't care what his parents, grandparents, etc. thought, or if they would be disappointed. He said he'd probably like the kids to have something from him, like giving his last name as a middle name or something. I told him that I too would like our putative kids to have his name as a second middle name or something. And I told him that I consider our first child, Gidget, as having his last name (we may have even put it as her last name on her papers when we adopted her from the rescue league).

So we pretty much agreed that if we have kids, no matter our circumstances, they'll get my last name.

I also told him to sleep on it to make sure it really was okay with him, no seller's remorse later.

Can I tell you what I told him? I think it's totally HOT that he's so open-minded. I mean, swoon.

I got me a keeper, fer shore.

WWUD?

So after hanging out with my nephew and family for the birthday celebration yesterday, SM and I decided (okay, I decided and SM agreed because he's a good guy that way) to go to Michael's to pick up a few things I needed wanted.

I had bought a necklace while on our mini-break to the Eastern shore, but it was missing a small gold link. Which got me 20% off. And a trip to an arts and crafts store to buy the piece. I also wanted to buy some needlepoint materials because I was inspired by a pillow I saw (and bought) -- I thought, "I can do that!"

I think that a lot. And despite thinking that often, I rarely manage to complete said "I can do that!" project. And it's even more rare that the final version resembles that which I am attempting to copy. And still, that reality doesn't ever deter me from thinking, "I can do that!"

Sucker.

So off we went. When I got there, I realized that I had another project in the works that I needed bits and parts for, so I spent quite some time in the jewelry-making section.

And then on the way towards the front of the store where the check-out is, I noticed that frames were on sale. Frames! I need frames! Actually, I do. I had decided to decorate one wall in the hall with family photos, only to discover that SM had very few family pix. And the ones he did have? Couldn't hang them on the wall. So I needed to change out those frames for ones with hooks on the back.

And then, again on the way to the check-out, I noticed plate stands. Plate stands! I need plate stands! Actually, I do. LOL. Okay, I wanted them to decorate. We have a large bookcase that we use for some of our nicer tchatchkas -- like ceramics, dolls and other decorative items. And I have several Japanese platters. In fact, I have this exact one:


(Ain't it purty?) And I needed a few stands to display them.

While I was perusing the stands, I noticed someone out of the corner of my eye as he walked by me. A man carrying a toddler girl, about 18 months old. A small chill went through me.

I looked again, surreptiously.

Yep. Uh huh. I think that's him. I kneeled down to give the plate stands closer inspection. And one more pseudo-stare across the store at the man.

Yeah. It was my most recent ex-boyfriend. Now, "most recent" is still a break-up at the end of 1999, but he's the most recent. His hair was longish (which was interesting because I was the woman who convinced him to stop wearing a crew cut). He wore dark glasses (but then again, it was sunny out). He was carrying a child. But other than that, he looked pretty much the same.

And I had no interest in having an encounter with him. And no, it wasn't because I've gained like 40 pounds since he last saw me and looked like crap (although that certainly didn't help). It was because after I broke up with him, he failed to act with grace. Actually, he was mean and jealous, probably because he was hurt, but well, he wasn't pleasant. And I didn't have any interest in seeing him, even 7+ years later. So I picked out some plate stands and weighed my options. He had asked a question from the staff in the front and had headed to the back of the store. I had a basket full of stuff and wanted to get the hell outta Dodge.

What to do? Make a run for it and hope he was sucked into the massive inventory of the store?

Well, I decided that I was done shopping and had no interest in hanging out, skulking about or hiding, so yes, now that there was no line (an anamoly at this particular store), I was heading for the check-out.

Of course, I had the world's sloooooowest checker. She was on the phone when I came up. And then she was talking to the other checker, who was a teenager on the phone. And my checker was South Asian and spoke with a heavy accent, so the teenager kept saying, "Huh? What?" to get my checker to repeat and repeat and repeat the message. All the while, I'm waiting and hoping former boyfriend is otherwise occupied.

Yep, he is. He's wandering around and on a cell phone, apparently getting instructions on what he's supposed to buy.

Finally, the checker starts checking me out. She is painfully slow. Pain. ful. ly. A line is forming behind me (which is good, because it provides cover from being seen). She finally finishes. Just as former boyfriend heads to the front of the store. And I head for the exit. He's getting a shopping cart and putting his daughter in the seat. I get out the first set of doors. Phew, made it! I stop and look back. Former boyfriend's daughter and I make eye contact. She's very cute with big brown eyes. I smile at her. I leave.

I'm glad to get out of there. SM and Gidget are waiting for me outside. We go home.

I know I acted like a teenager there, but I really had no interest in seeing him, considering how he acted towards me way back when. I also know it's more than likely that he did see me too but was playing dumb, which is just fine with me.

And oh yeah, I spent something like $156. Damned frames. And plate stands.