Read about The Best of 2009 Challenge here.
SG and I went there to celebrate our one year anniversary and both our birthdays during our week stay in Maui. We had a table near the edge of the restaurant, where instead of windows with glass, there are open spaces in the walls that make it nearly like sitting outside. It was after dark, so we couldn’t see the ocean, but we could hear it on the wind that barely moved our hair and napkins and the flower petals all over the restaurant. We had a bottle of champagne, and as we clinked our glasses together in the candlelight he said to me, To our awesome first year together.
It’s, well . . . different, I guess, dating when you’ve been divorced twice and have four children. Believe me, I figured that I’d be single for at least forever, probably longer, and I think that likely would have been the case if I hadn’t run into SG at Trader Joe’s that Saturday. I also think that if we didn’t already know each other from a long time ago, he wouldn’t have been willing to give this a chance. Four kids is a lot. I sure as hell wouldn’t date a man with four children. Are you kidding me? So, for me, reaching the end of that first year with him and seeing that we have a bunch more of them stacked up, just waiting for us, left me all emotional in the dim light of the restaurant and I saw the illusion of many champagne glasses clinking together through the tears that barely stayed in my eyes.
Soon after that I had the best creme brulee I have ever had in my whole long life, and that is saying something since I worked in a four-star cafe for years and KNOW my creme brulee. It was the best, because it was all vanilla cream and didn’t taste like eggs and I was in love in Hawaii on the most longshot of odds.
After we left the restaurant, we walked over to the beach and stretched out on our backs, looking up at the stars. It was so dark, we could just barely make out the water. The sand still felt warm under me, and I held on to SG’s hand, happy and lucky and loved.
This morning on Forum, I heard Michael Krasny say twenty-twelve when referring to the year 2012. I admit that I’m now rethinking my snobbery about two thousand vs twenty. But, that does not mean you’ll hear me say twenty-anything. I just will be less judgmental toward people who do. A little.
Today I finished the last step of crossing numero uno off my 40 before forty list: there are now new windshield wipers on my van. I feel so accomplished! The one on the driver’s side is too little (I totally did not realize that they could have two different ones on the same car, which means that I’ve not been paying attention), and I had to ask a coworker to help me get the new ones put on, because — well, because trying to get them off hurt my fingers too much, but it wasn’t working the whole driving around with the rubber blade missing on one side, because that meant that I couldn’t use them at all, even in the foggy wet northern CA mornings. So, Thanks, Blake! I owe you coffee.
My son was in the passenger seat of my van at 8 a.m. and turned to me, shocked, saying, Look! I have goosebumps on my legs! Why yes, you do, I said. Because it is forty-six degrees and you are wearing shorts and a tshirt. Welcome to wintertime?
For a long time I have had these awful water/wave dreams. I’m always in a house right on the ocean, and a huge wave comes and crashes through the window, flooding the house. It starts with the waves getting bigger and bigger, until an enormous one comes and I can never escape. Sometimes I’m in a restaurant, others it’s in a house, but always the end is the same, with the water crashing through the glass and filling up the building. The other night, though, I had one where I ran out the back door of the house and up a hill and I escaped from the water. Finally.