It was a weekend that could be considered bad, but I will look past the bad parts and state that overall, it was still good. Saturday I had to work. I started off the morning with a gingerbread latte from Starbucks and overall had a nice day. When I got home, Paul had wrapped his Christmas present for me and done some chores while I was gone. He seemed out of sorts, and I couldn’t really pinpoint what was wrong with him. When I asked he denied anything being out of the ordinary, and finally said he had a bit of a headache. In my mind this settled the question, he often is a bit melancholy when he gets headaches so I didn’t worry about anything further.
We headed out to go to dinner, look for a Christmas present for Paul’s dad, and do our weekly grocery shopping. In the car, Paul revealed that he had found my gift to him while searching for gift bows. I had been really excited about my gift to him, a twelve-piece set of high quality kitchen knives. He loves to cook, and has been drooling over the set for months. Since buying them, I have looked forward to seeing his excited face when he unwrapped them.
Paul and I have a history of Christmases in which he has money to spend and spoils me, while I fail miserably at making him happy. This year, I finally was able to get him a really good gift, something that would really show how much I love him. Finding out that the surprise was spoilt, I was completely upset. I began to sob, wailing that Christmas was ruined yet again. I’d never even considered that he would find the gift before I had a chance to wrap it. I’d stashed it in the guest room closet, where he never goes….unless he’s looking for bows.
Damn. It. All.
Paul was horrified that I was crying. Since I was driving, there wasn’t a lot he could do to comfort me (and was probably not too confident in my ability to sob uncontrollably and steer the car at the same time). He put a gentle hand on the back of my neck, under my hair, and rubbed it soothingly. He assured me it was all right, he loved his gift, he wasn’t disappointed, and he would have me unwrap my present when we got home and just do Christmas gift exchanges very, very early this year. Slowly I quieted down. “Is that why you were acting weird earlier?” I asked, sniffling.
“Yeah, a little,” he admitted. “I debated over whether or not to tell you.”
I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “It was good you told me,” I said, considering things. “You have no poker face.” (He doesn’t.) “I would’ve seen your face when you opened them and known that you knew what you were getting.”
“That’s true,” he agreed.
We went to Azteca for dinner and actually had a pretty nice time, despite my meltdown over the discovery of his gift. At home later, he let me unwrap my gift. I was hesitant about this. I always want to wait until Christmas morning, this year more so than ever because we wouldn’t be visiting family or having traditional Christmas, but he was insistent (and he and I have never made it until Christmas to exchage gifts anyway). I unwrapped the large box he presented me with and found a Kitchenaid mixer, an item I have coveted my entire adult life. It’s black and gorgeous and perfect for baking! Paul may be the cook of the house, but I adore baking and have only recently begun indulging in this enjoyable hobby again.
On Sunday we decided to take a bike ride together. Since I didn’t own a bike, the first order of business was to go to Target and purchase one. As we walked outside, Paul said, “It’s snowing.”
“Yeah right,” I muttered. Weather reports had been calling for snow, but I wasn’t buying it.
“It is,”he insisted. “Look.”
Sure enough, snow flurries were falling.
We still went to Target for my new bike, but decided it would be more fun to take the Jeep out to Highway 20 so we could see thicker snow. That road gets closed down for bad weather conditions in the winter, but this early in the season, it was a great place to see snow. We packed some cheese, ham, and crackers for lunch and went out on our drive. As we followed the road east, the snow grew heavier and the road icier. After lunch, Paul had me slide behind the wheel to get some practice driving in the icy conditions.
It was hard at first. The Jeep wanted to wiggle every time I pressed down on the brake, so I tried to just alternate between gently using the gas pedal and coasting. I was starting to feel a little more comfortable, just as red and blue lights lit up behind me. I’d been watching the road and not the speedometer, and had unknowingly been doing 40mph in a 30mph zone (and, a few hundred feet ahead of me, the speed limit increased to 45mph). The cop who pulled me over was a giant douche, lecturing me about weather conditions and cars in ditches. Whatever, asshole, I thought as I forked over my license and the registration. My vehicle is what yanks cars OUT of ditches. He wrote me the ticket, and Paul rejoiced that I’d managed to be pulled over in front of a full, heated restroom.
We resumed our Sunday drive, and had no more run-ins with the law. We pulled into a viewpoint that overlooked a river, and Paul snapped a few pictures. Then we took turns skidding the Jeep and spinning it out in circles on the icy, snow covered parking lot. That was good fun. When it was my turn, I tried to get in using the rockrails but they were solid ice. No problem, I reached up and grabbed the steering wheel and swung my leg up to pull myself in.
If you guessed that the sound was my jeans splitting at the seam, from thigh to crotch, you’d be right.
And if you guessed that Paul threw back his head and laughed at my plight, you’d also be right.
Damn cheap jeans. Nothing to make a girl feel fat like splitting her pants.
We headed home to make a yummy dinner of bacon-wrapped scallops, baked potatoes, and green beans. While we waited for dinner to cook, we watched a movie and drank Scarlett O’Haras (these are drinks made with Southern Comfort, cranberry juice, and lime juice).
Today it’s snowing harder at home, with weather reports predicting we’ll get anywhere from two to six inches before the storm blows through. Zumba has been cancelled, which bums me out because a lot of people from work were going to come. Ah well, we’ll all get together next week. I made delicious cupcakes with my new mixer. Half have cream cheese frosting, and the other half have peanut butter frosting.
It was interesting trying to get my baking supplies on a snowy day. I ventured out earlier this morning, before the storm had really gotten going. I quickly discovered that the roads don’t get plowed in Marysville. I watched two different accidents occur on my short trip to the store, and saw one older car just sitting in a ditch. People don’t seem to know how to drive in the snow and were skidding everywhere. I was relieved to get into the store.
After the grocery store I headed to Costco for cat litter and margarita mix. Cars were parked at crazy angles throughout the lot. Since the parking lines were still visible, I found snow a poor excuse to park like retards. People are stupid and lazy. I couldn’t be grumpy though, because it was snowing!
I made it home without incident to enjoy my baking and to do some laundry. Now, cupcakes are done, and I’m sipping hot coffee and relaxing. I’ll be glad when Paul’s home from work.
And now the dryer is beeping, so it’s time to get off my butt and fold towels.