Let’s lighten the mood a little bit after the excitement and death threats from the other day.
Sorry, folks. I can’t stop gushing about him. I know; you come here to read my tale of woe and instead you get this sickeningly sweet replay of our weekend. I’ll try to do better.
We met in Appalachian country; it was beautiful. We stayed in an Air BnB, which was quaint and cozy. Our hosts were really nice.
Friday was almost a disaster. Picasso was going hunting with my brother that week-end. He didn’t bother to pack his clothes so he could walk over to his uncle’s after school, which I found out after texting him at school. He also informed me he needed to do laundry before he could pack. So I ran home, threw a load of clothes in and got ready for work.
I was supposed to get off work at 11:30. I got off closer to 11:50. My mom called to tell me Rock Star’s car didn’t need an alignment; it needed $1000 worth of repairs and it was a safety issue.
Instead of leaving for the weekend I headed back home to drop off my credit card. I’ve already racked up over $1000 in charges, putting new tires on both my car and Rock Star’s car. What’s another thousand, especially when CF doesn’t bother to pay child support?
Then it turned out they couldn’t get the car in until Tuesday so I hadn’t needed to head back to the house anyway.
There was a wreck on a 7 mile stretch of interstate that I was supposed to be on. This was going to be a twenty minute delay, according to Google maps. It re-routed me but it still took what felt like forever.
Finally, I made it to the town I was going to! I stopped to go to the bathroom and get a drink. When I got back in my car all Hell broke loose.
I got the message from my mom about me posting I’m in a relationship. I texted Rock Star to ask her if she’d done it. Texted the mobster to see if he had done it. I’m getting phone calls. My mom. My daughter. My mobster. All while I’m trying to find the place I’m staying at, out in the middle of nowhere.
I missed a turn while I was on the phone with Rock Star. I got re-routed. I still couldn’t find it. I was almost hyperventilating. I was cursing the invention of these damn Air BnBs and swearing we were going to stay at big chain hotels with large neon signs you can see from outer space from now on. I wanted to call the mobster and have him come pick me up but I had no idea where I was. It was pitch black. No lights. Middle of nowhere. No landmarks. I couldn’t read the street signs. Plus, he wasn’t there yet.
I finally found it and it was delightful. A short while later the mobster showed up with pizza in hand. All was well with the world again.
Can you believe we were up at 6:30 the next morning? We ate breakfast at the diner we met at the second time we got together in person. It was delicious. Banana stuffed French toast with cream cheese filling, hash browns, bacon for me and ham for him.
After that we walked around the town, found a geocache, and then went for pedicures.
Can you believe it? The mobster went with me and got a pedicure. He even liked it. Actually what he said was that it was kind of weird at first but he would do it again. And he kept marveling at how soft his feet felt.
In exchange I went to Goodwill with him. He likes to find things and put them on eBay to resell.
Finally we headed up to a winery. We tasted the various wines made there, got a glass for each of us, ordered some appetizers and talked.
The food was very good- all homemade. The owner of the vineyard was very talkative and friendly. And there was a group of ladies sitting near us who were having a very loud and very interesting conversation. Yes, we eavesdropped. They were very loud. Plus there’s just something about the word prison that makes your ears perk up.
It was getting windy and dark but we still decided to go out on the massive deck and look around. Again, it was simply beautiful out there.
The place really started to fill up around 4:30, probably because they serve a homemade Italian dinner every Friday and Saturday night. Chef’s choice.
That night she was making veggie stuffed mushrooms over a bed of orzo pasta covered in marinara sauce, and a pork tenderloin stuffed with rosemary and feta, covered in apple chutney. Both were served with asparagus and the pork tenderloin came with baby red potatoes.
We decided to order one of each and split them. This is huge for me because I don’t like to share my food.
My mother delights in telling the story of how I ordered dessert one time and she made the comment that it looked really good. I told her it was and kept eating. When I finished she looked at me incredulously and exclaimed, “I can’t believe you ate that whole thing and didn’t offer me a bite!” To which I replied, “I didn’t know you wanted one!” Apparently, “That looks good,” is not merely an observation but code for, “I’d like a bite.”
My brothers are 6’3 and 6’4. Big guys. I’m not even 5’4. They brought me home Burger King one day. I’m happily eating away when I notice they don’t have fries. Curious, I ask one of them, “Why didn’t you get fries?”” It turns out they didn’t get me fries. When I asked them why they didn’t just tell me I was eating their fries they looked at me and said, “There was no way we were getting between you and your food.”
But I shared with the mobster. It worked out beautifully. I did like the pork tenderloin more than the veggie stuffed mushroom but I’m glad I got to have both. We also ordered both desserts (Death by Chocolate cake and a fruit covered cheesecake) and took those to go. We were both stuffed.
On our final day we went to another diner for breakfast and then wandered the streets, browsed in shops and found two more geocaches. We had thought about going to a state park to explore caves and see a waterfall but it was too cold and windy and we just didn’t have enough time. It was nice being together. We looked at a bunch of humorous Christmas cards in one of the bookstores and we laughed and laughed. We bought matching magnets for our refrigerators. I can’t find mine. I hope it isn’t lost forever. Update: I found it! It was in my purse. Hooray!
Another weekend wrapped up! We’ll see each other next time at Rock Star’s first cheer competition. I’m looking forward to it. It will be almost like a family outing. He might bring his daughter, too.
Until next time!
Update: Obviously I thought I was going to be able to post this before freaking December. As it turns out, thanks to my trolls I went to my daughter’s competition alone. No big meet up.