Not like that!
Friday night, I went out to dinner with my friend K and some of her other friends. This was her "goodbye" dinner, before moving back to Las Vegas, where she was born & raised. I'm bummed that my friend isn't local anymore, but she'll be back to visit often, and we didn't see each other much more often than once a month anyhow. So it won't be a huge change. After dinner, I drove out to stay the night with D. He had to be at work at 6 AM the next morning, but even the threat of waking up at 4:30 am on a Saturday is not enough of a deterrent to keep me away from him. (I know!!)
Saturday, after watching the gorgeous sunrise on the drive home, I took a nap, then hit the Brentwood farmer's market. I bought zucchini and yellow squash, a gorgeous huge red onion, strawberries, blueberries and blackberries, and tons of cherries. I also got a sourdough baguette, some asiago foccacia, a package of naan and a packet of vindaloo curry paste. Whew! With all these goodies in hand, I made a plan: vindaloo for dinner, followed by homemade cherry ice cream. Turns out, though, that homemade ice cream is a major process. You have to simmer and steep the milk (with vanilla bean, in this case), then make the custard and cook it (gently!!), cool it in an ice bath, chill it in the refrigerator, and THEN put it in the ice cream maker and freeze it up. It took HOURS. But OMG, so worth it. That fresh cherry ice cream was fall-on-the-floor good. Next time: more cherries, and maybe puree a few of them to add to the custard at the start of the freezing process.
I packed up half of the cherry ice cream, and all the fixings for the vindaloo (chicken, veggies, curry paste, TJ's frozen rice bags, and naan), and drove BACK out to Livermore to make dinner for D and his roommates. They were very appreciative, and after a minor mishap where the vindaloo would not thicken up (I made a quick roux to fix it), it turned out pretty well. Not my finest meal, but it was fairly good.
Anyhoo, I spent the night out there again (two nights in a row!) and for the first time ever, D and I spent the night together with no sexy-time. Just sleep. He was exhausted, what with the lack of sleep the night before, and of course we had to get up at 4:30 again so he could make it to work by 6 AM on Sunday morning. So I completely understand, but at the same time I really missed making love with him. I can't believe that after all these years, I am suddenly the one who wants sex all the time in the relationship.
On Sunday I drove straight to Walnut Creek and sat outside Babydaddy's house reading for an hour, until 7. I figured Rugrat would be up by then, so I knocked on the door -- but apparently Rugrat was still sleeping. Babydaddy answered the door all disheveled and half-asleep, and I went in and convinced Rugrat to get up and get ready. The two of us went out to breakfast (which was pretty horrible; note to self: do not return to Buttercup Cafe in WC) and then headed home. Where I promptly took a nap for two-three hours, while Rugrat watched TV. I finally got up and did something productive: cleaned out my dresser and my closet. One of the local charities was scheduled to come out this morning (Tuesday) so I wanted to be sure and get it done before then, and I was ruthless. I now have not one, not two, but THREE empty drawers in my dresser, and dozens of hangers. The underwear drawer is now so organized that I can also fit my sexythings and bras in there. Sunday afternoon ended up being lazy, with me reading a lot, and eventually running out to the grocery store to buy some fixings for Shrimp and Orzo Pasta Salad and then eating two huge servings of it. God, that stuff is SO good.
Yesterday I finally slept in. Rugrat called a friend and ended up going over to her grandmother's house for a few hours in the afternoon, to swim and play for a bit. I planned on getting a pedicure, but of course the nail shops were all closed for the holiday. So instead I went to Lowe's, got some paint for Rugrat's bathroom and the office/guest room (which I've been thinking about redoing for quite a while now), and got BUSY. I couldn't, in good conscience, do the "fun" painting (bathroom, office/guest room) until I did the painting that really desperately needed to be done first, so....I finally painted the trim in the half bath downstairs, the trim around the kitchen entryway, and the walls in the kitchen and living room, where Babydaddy retextured after putting in the new countertops over a year ago. Yes, I know. I am a lazy fucking slob. It took me OVER A YEAR to paint that. And why? Well, I think I was kind of depressed. I mean, I didn't feel sad or anything, but let's face it: I spent a year doing pretty much nothing but reading. I read an average of eleven books a month last year. I had no fucking life. I could not get energized. And now my life has totally changed: I've quit smoking (almost two months without a cigarette!), I am in a fabulous relationship with a man I adore, I'm food blogging and even exercising occasionally. I have a new car, a gardener, and a cleaning lady. And I am ridiculously happy.