Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Full Disclosure

I have to buy a new pair of ice cube trays. I had two, but now I only have one. One works just fine but the other had to be thrown away. I threw it away because a significant requirement for an ice cube tray is that they be water-tight, and one of my two trays lost the ability to be water-tight due to the holes that suddenly appeared all over it. Suddenly appeared immediately after I smashed the sucker against the floor of the freezer 2-3 times in a FIT of rage after the ice cube tray had the audacity to dump all of its perfectly-made cubes on the floor.

I do not respond well to fits of rage.

I tell you this story in much the same way I need to be sure to tell it to T.E. Not because he’s a big ice cube sympathizer nor do I think he’ll notice the change of ice cube trays and be alarmed – he’s generally pretty easy-going in the area of ice cubes and the trays in which they come. But I need to tell T.E. in the interest of full disclosure because I do not respond well to fits of rage. I break things. Or sometimes throw things. Or throw things which breaks them. Or break things by throwing other things into them. All of these things have happened at one time or another after I’ve done the “rage fit” thing.

And the other thing is that it doesn’t take nearly as much as you’d like to think it would to rage-fit me. You’d like to think that something which would cause an ordinarily rational and calm person to start hurling office chairs would have to be a big deal. Like putting out my own eye. Or being mugged at gunpoint. Or taxes. For me a lot of the time it starts with me hitting my head.

I really. REALLY. Don’t respond well to hitting my head.

Honestly, I’m hard-wired on this one. Like there’s a special nerve in my head that is directly connected to my “rage” nerve. Or rage lobe, or whatever it is that leads to the rage-fits. I’m not so clear on the biology of it, but what I do know is that my world is pock-marked by silly amounts of damage I’ve done to things in the less-than-split-second immediately following my hitting my head. Freezer doors, remote controls, phones – all innocent victims of those things that I simply have to do when one immovable object (my head) meets another blunt construct (anything else in the world ever, ever, ever).

Another one is toe stubbing. I stubbed my toe getting out of the shower the other day and I remain quietly proud that all the breakable things in my bathroom are still in the same number of pieces they were in prior to the toe stubbing. Or at least I was quietly proud, but that was before I wrote of it and posted it on the whole big internet. But before that I was quietly proud. Yay me.

So anyway, these are the things that don’t come up between he and I, since I haven’t hit my head or stubbed my toe around him yet (knock on wood) or had any other thing to make me rage-fit-girl, but that he really needs to know about because when I eventually DO hit my head or stub my toe or have to talk to the cable company or drive behind a bus or any number of other things with him around he needs to know what’s coming. Understand how very much it has nothing to do with him. And know how to load the tranquilizer gun.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Here's the Thing...

So there’s a thing. About the relationship I am currently enjoying (which is a tremendous understatement – I’m not just enjoying this relationship. I’m loving it. I’m rapturizing in it. I’m rolling around in the wonderfulness of this relationship like it’s dark chocolate pudding with lovely, frothy whipped cream!) with T.E. there’s a thing. There’s an age difference. T.E. is younger than me.

By a bunch.

He’s enough younger than me that when I tell people his age (and they already know mine) there’s always – ALWAYS – about a 7-8 second paaaauuuuse. As if they’re running through all the knee-jerk reactions that first occurs, trying to decide “do I say any of the things in my head right now? Or bite my tongue? And also when did Femtastic lose her mind?”

And just in case anybody is worrying about these things, let me say NO, I am not breaking the law, people! Nobody is doing anything wrong! We’re just doing things most folks probably don’t. And even that’s not it because what we’re doing is what most people DO want to do, and in fact are dying to do or if they’re not they are sad, sad people who do not seek enough “awesome” in their life. But we’re doing it in a unique way. In a way that gives people pause. Really, really long pause.

In all honesty I got a little pause the first time I found out T.E.’s age myself, so I’m not judging the people who do the pausing. I feel their pain, because I’ve had friends or family do things that I questioned and you have that struggle between wanting to be supportive or feeling like you are honor-bound to speak up and express the concern. What I would like, really, is the reaction that my oldest friend in all the world gave to me. She was HONEST with me, while supporting and listening both. She told me that she worried about this younger guy’s maturity and would he be mature enough for me? But she also told me that in the end she trusted my judgment and wanted me to be happy. And when I explained what makes this man extraordinary and tremendous and a huge exception to the rule she listened to me. This reaction gave me both respect but also honesty, which I know was hard for her, but so good for me.

Either that, or I want the reaction that another of my old friends gave me: she met T.E., loved him and is dying to see him again. Just like me! (OK, nothing near as much as me, but the enthusiasm is wonderful none the less.)

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

The Next Big Step

T.E. is coming back in the summer – I told you guys that, right? Right. Anyway – coming back in the summer and we just purchased the tickets and he’s going to be here for (get this. Seriously, this is extremely worth getting) SEVEN WEEKS. Not two, and not four (which would be a month, by the way, and this is MORE than four months which means MORE than a month, by the way) and not even six (which is kind of like a month and a half, so this is kind of like more than a month and a half. BY THE WAY!!!!)

So, so awesome.

Now I have had more than a few people react to this with “woah!” and “wow!” and those types of thing-deals. However when you slow down these reactions and play them backwards they, like the Beatles song Number 9, say something totally different. They say “are you sure you can spend that long together?” and “Dang, this will be a real test of your relationship!” and “Yeah, this will be it. This will be the end of this crazy boondoggle.” (oh, and also it says “Paul is dead” but I think that’s a fluke…)

I understand where this comes from – honestly I think even T.E. is feeling a little of the pressure. His exact quote was that he is “cautiously optimistic.” It’s not wrong that this will not just be more time than ever before, but it will be more than twice the time previously enjoyed. It will be over a month and a half! At a certain point I know it will stop feeling like a vacation and an indulgence and 36% magic with sprinkles of “fabulous”. Despite all the time we spend together now, this will be ALL THE TIME FOR A MONTH AND A HALF.

So how come I’m not nervous?

Honestly, I just see this as good. As a thing I want so, so badly. When he’s not here I just wish he was, so seven weeks of not wishing for something I can’t have feels like time where I can finally breathe. Where I will finally be living that moment instead of passing through it headed to the moment I really want. I worry sometimes that my life is screaming by these days because I’m living for these moments. The evenings and the weekend and the summer and the holidays and all those times that being with him makes me feel just a tiny bit more whole.

The time that we will get to spend this summer will be seven weeks – 49 days – 1,176 hours – where I will just be living each hour as just an hour. Each day as “right now” instead of “just waiting.” The things I long for I’ll be getting. And in the face of that I don’t know how I could possibly worry about it. The idea seems almost ungrateful! I’m not saying I expect it to be perfect – this will, in fact, BE a bigger test or challenge or ‘running of the gauntlet’ for us and this relationship and I honestly do know it. But I still don’t see anything to worry about.

So you tell me – am I crazy? Or just in love?