A Good Weekend
January 26, 2009
After about a zillion fights last week, J and I managed to have a fantastic weekend. I don’t want to dwell on the past, mentioning all the details of last week’s fights, so instead I’ll focus on the good. Oh, and I have a hunch that there will be more good than bad from now on.
On Friday night, J surprised me with dinner at this fancy Italian restaurant down the street. Keeping with our New Year’s walking resolution, we peacefully strolled down the street to the restaurant, hand in hand. When we got there, J immediately ordered a bottle of my favorite French cabernet, and we munched on dinner rolls. We, at once, apologized to one another for all the fights and impatience of the past week, vowing to change some of our unwanted behaviors (God, I’m sounding like the Dog Whisperer!). When we got back to the apartment, full from all the delicious foods that we had just consumed, we watched The Soup, and went to bed in peace. Ahh, the first night in a while not going to bed angry.
Saturday morning was a lazy one. It was reminiscent of the kinds of Saturday mornings we had experienced in our first months of dating. We vegged out on the couch, there was no “nagging” on my part, and J listened to me easily, wanting to hear about all the jobs I had applied for during the week. Later in the day, we played racquetball. By the time the game was over, we were both on the floor, consumed by laughter. Leave it to us to finally being able to laugh again only after a competitive game where we’re both yelling at each other the whole time & wacking each other with the ball. Ha!
Sadly, we got a call from J’s dad around 3pm. J’s childhood pet, a kind-hearted German Shepherd, Duke, had died overnight. J was all chocked up. Although J had known that Duke’s time was running out, (he was eleven) it was still difficult. J and I both agreed that it was good that we had taken him for a walk the last time we saw him. We knew that it wouldn’t be the same anymore when we visited his parents again. Duke wouldn’t be the first one to greet us when we pulled into the driveway. You could tell that Duke always had a smile on his face once he saw J round the corner.
Once Sunday rolled around, we decided to check out the Farmer’s Market in Studio City, right smack dab down the street. Again, we walked. On the way to the market, I tricked J into coming into an antique shop with me, knowing perfectly well that there was a kitten adoption happening at that very moment inside the store. J threw me one of his annoyed looks once he saw what was going on. In a matter of seconds, I was holding a fifteen week old white kitten. He had eyes like blueberries. He squirmed quite a bit in my lap. I glanced up at J. His eyes said it all, “No more cats!” A volunteer lady kept asking me how serious I was about adopting a kitten, but I tried to stay vague, for my sake and J’s. If J hadn’t been with me, I would have whisked that kitten away, back to the apartment to meet Bette and Sammy. J, however, was not having it. He informed the volunteer that he was allergic to cats, and that we already had two as it was. The lady stopped pressing, and I reluctantly handed her back the kitten. Even though he couldn’t come home with us, I was grateful to have held him and smelled his irresistable kitten scent.
At the Farmer’s Market, J purchased the most yummy trail mix, and I bought the most succulent blood oranges. I also bought some exotic lemons for cooking & to flavor my teas and water. J also decided to stop in at the nearby sports store. He decided that we should start playing tennis, even though we both hadn’t played for years. After all, he contended, we had tennis courts just down the street from our apartment, why not take advantage? J bought me a pink racquet, and I decided that this was the perfect Sunday.
The moral of this story is that sometimes all it takes is a weekend to make amends with the one you love, with or without a kitten.