Twenty Twelve

Getting ready for guests...

I keep meaning to keep a factual record of what our life is like right now, but I keep getting overwhelmed by the complexity of it all and telling myself I'll do it later.

I waited for you at Cinnabon Air.

But hey, let's talk Christmas. You flew in to Dulles around 9pm on December 23, and we stayed in a lovely hotel in Bethesda that night. We watched the Spongebob christmas episode and ordered a pizza. When I asked you later, you said this night was among your favorites of the whole trip.

The next day, we took off for Norristown and the christmastravaganza held at Dot's house. We stopped for Starbucks' holiday caffeinated beverages. When we arrived to Dot's, we chatted a bit but were quickly put to work: chopping, washing, setting the table. About 30 people squeezed into her house, which (I'm told) is pretty standard. My memory is foggy, but about 95% of the guests were between the ages of 6 and 12. Pretty sure. Santa showed up and--I must admit--it was much less creepy and much more magical than I ever expected. Your grandfather seemed to enjoy himself and, at times, but wholly cognizant of what was happening and when and where we were. I'm not sure where your expectations laid--but this beat mine, and that's always nice.

This is how you hand-made a
page-a-day calendar...

Christmas day, you made a large breakfast for Dot, your dad, me, and you, and then we went on a walk with your Dad in the Audubon park near Norristown. We saw deer (ah hem, mating), rare owls, canadian geese, beautiful ice patterns on wet forest floors. It was chilly, but bright.

We left in the early afternoon to return to Virginia. Driving down i95 on christmas day was nicely uneventful. We had greasy fried chicken from an interstate service area. People seem happy, somehow, despite the fact that they're at a rest stop on 95 on christmas day.

Santa's finished!

Arriving at our apartment around 7, you saw the christmas tree and (minimal) decorations for the first time. We spent a little time straightening up and then settled into the couch--like it ain't no thang--for a little Netflix and cuddling. We exchanged gifts (a page-a-day joke calendar for you, a RoadID running bracelet for me) and watched the first few scenes of Apocalypse Now. This, when you asked me, was one of my favorite evenings.

Somebody rejected their very-
special (bedpan-like) bowl gift by
leaving it in our microwave. 

On the 26th, my family descended upon our house. I had stocked us with the basics (ham, coffees, xmas cookies, fruits, bread), but you did some morning-of shopping to get ingredients for cocktails, hot cider, flowers. The keen details. Sadly, we took zero pictures. But you, I, Lenore, Edwin, Mom, Dad, Maggie, Daisy, and (briefly) your dad had a great time. Mom and Dad (predictably, though I hope differently every year) brought a huge stack of gifts. Lenore and Edwin did too. There were lots of souvenirs from Hawaii (m+d), and Paris (L+E). We travel all the time and I never buy souvenirs--lesson for next year. Lots of chocolate, coffee, edibles.

Christmas on 95...

We had brunch with your mom the next day (eggs, ham biscuits), and you two spent the afternoon together shopping. (I took a much-needed nap.) We finished Apocalypse Now.

Wednesday, we went to the DMV to renew your license and then took the truck to WV to check on your land. As usual, it feels more open in winter: fewer grasses, more flatness. Not cold enough any ice or snow yet, though there was a biting wind. We brought ham sandwiches, ate them in the car, headed home. We met your mom and John at Stone Soup in Waynesboro on the way home. We had cornish hens (apricot habenero glaze) and mashed roots for dinner.

Thursday you retrieved the trailer from Waynesboro (after much effort) and we had dinner with Sean and Hillary and two of their friends. I think we were stretched a little thin... wishing for down-time... but wanting to pack as much goodness as possible into these few days, so the dinner was lovely. Homemade indian food--incredible. We brought vanilla ice cream, candied figs, and thyme honey (which i neglected to strain so was quite chewy). Played a round or two of Apples to Apples.

New Year's on 81... 

Friday, we returned the truck and trailer to Palmyra. Got Bodo's sandwiches for breakfast and lunch, packed, mashed potatoes, picked up the rental car for our new years' trip to the Poconos. We had to trade the car on our way north because the alignment was clearly off on this one--WOMPWOMPWOMPWOMP--but the Civic we ended up with was fine enough.

Last lunch of 2011. 

Poconos, despite being packed to the gills with twelve 20-somethings, was fairly calm. We dove right in upon arrival, having volunteered to make dinner that night: beef tenderloin for 12. It was a hit: "best meal of 2011." I am quite proud of us, I think it went exactly as well as it could have gone. We made mashed potatoes, asparagus, horseradish sauce, and gravy. We spent the evening chatting around the table with the group, went to bed before the others (around 11).

The next day we got up first (or... second? some sneaky soul had made coffee) and stood on the deck outside, drinking coffee and talking about life. I didn't think to mention it to you, but this might be my 2nd favorite time of the visit. We talked about movies, life, plans, fears, goals.

Last meal of 2011.

New Year's eve was chaotic--the person who volunteered to make dinner was not, um, equipped, to cook for 12, and it was an all-hands-on-deck situation. You swung to the rescue with 2 grilled chickens (in addition to 2 roasted). The meal was wonderful, and such a relief once it was done. By the time things were underway, I think we were all having a nice time: you with the guys and the grill, attempting to identify constellations, me making drinks for and attempting to caramelize onions even though the cook clearly had no idea what that meant.

My seat assignment.
Note jello shot beneath.

Jello shots, also.

We were all quite collected through midnight, then an all-out dance party broke out around 12:13. (You said, "it took 13 minutes for this to get weird!") We both danced, went to bed around 2. The mix of alcohols was... eventful. But we both survived.

Yesterday, the drive home. We left around noon (if I am to be honest, deeply saddened brunch still wasn't ready), you weren't feeling well. You slept in the backseat for a while, I think you had a slight fever. Overall, though, a nice drive... lovely light in the morning, grey grey rain in the afternoon. It suited our moods. Series of bridges in Harrisburg, PA were stunningly beautiful.

Took you to Dulles around 4:30, stayed for half an hour and caffeinated myself while holding your hand. After I left you texted me that it was "so hard to get on this plane." I wonder which of our sentiments... "nothing rewarding is hard" or "this is so hard, i just want to stop" is correct. We both express both.

At some point you gave me a 10-12% chance of actually ending up in SF... a figure I found jarring since it feels like a real 50/50 to me (or, more accurately, a 70/30... then 30/70... then 70/30... etc.). I realized I needed to be more openly optimistic. My thought of you as the more resolute one was incorrect.

After dropping you off, I went to Lenore's and fed the cats. They were confused and angered and hungry and cuddly and sharp to see me. I have no idea how they felt about it. I got home around 9:30, exhausted. Sad. The house feels empty but.. sadly... normal.

I felt so close to you over this visit. We've tried on a number of realities. I think we both know which one will happen most naturally. Now we fight for the harder--more rewarding--one until it's not worth it or until it happens.

We can't win everything in this situation. But we can't lose everything. And I am so, so, so in love with you, partner. I am a lucky woman to have you, and our families, and our friends. It's a good life. It will be a good life. 2012 will hold changes, that is perhaps the only guarantee.

Today you're finding housing.
Today I'm drafting job applications.