My family celebrated Mother's Day today. It so happens that my Mother has such a disliking for her bilogical mother that we took out my Step-Father's late Father's widowed girlfriend in place of her. She really is a very nice lady.
We went to Lucia's Wine Bar, a very hip and delicious place to eat. Everyhing they had was fantastic. I had a chicken salad that had the most wonderful morel mushrooms. A rare treat indeed.
You are now looking at the highlight of my day, if not the week.
"Doc, it Hurts When I Do That..."
I sprained and/or tore a knee ligament last friday at the after-Japanese-final picnic not but 5 feet away from the head sensei. For once, I really did bruise something more than just my pride.
I felt as though I had been gimping around for far too long now, so I decided to excersize my knee abit in the effort to regain some of my lost flexibility. I did streches, which hurt; tried to work out my gait, which hurt; and rode my excersize bike for fifteen minutes (which really hurt). My life felt like nothing but pain.
Really what kept me going was the fact that I knew I would be sleeping over at my girlfriends house that evening: ah, to be in her arms...it had been too long!
No Rules, Just Right!®
Around 4:00pm our family split up and drove seperately to meet my mother's biological mother and the rest of the family at Outback Steakhouse for an early dinner ("to beat the crowd," my mother told me). I have only been able to legally drink for two weeks now and shun this type of usage for alcohol, but I self-medicated myself to make the experience more bearable with an el-cheapo margharita.
No worries, mate; because next up was my girlfriends house!
I climbed into my vehicle and picked up my phone to call my girl, to let her know I was on the way. I then noticed a voice-mail, and had a sinking feeling. Gee, didn't I tell her I was going to call her at three that afternoon? Whoops!
Yep, precious was angry alright and left an angry message. I called her right away, and she was just fuming in her quiet, intense style of anger that can give me the butterflies. I asked her if she still wanted me to come over and she stayed quiet. I asked her if she was hungry, and if she would like me to take her out to Tanpopo, and she accepted. Vindication, or so I thought.
Her anger really gives me the willies because although she doesn't say angry things, her voice is so cold; and you can just tell that there are angrey thoughts whipping around in her head faster than they ever came out of Dezi Arenez's mouth during any episode of I Love Lucy.
When I picked her up and she came down from her appartment up high, her mood was deplorable. She slouched into the passanger's seat and scowled. To write the cliff-notes: we argued, she said stupid things, I said stupid things.
After I had driven her to the store closed on Sunday to try and return her Korean video taps, and reached the destination resturant she asked me to take her home. About two blocks away I really layed into her and told her I wanted to break up. What a dose of reality for us both.
The last thing I said to her was, "get out of my car."
What else was I to do but to call to mommy and ask her advice? She naturally sided with me. I know that my girlfriend and I are both assholes, however.
I zoned in front of watching HGTV for far too long, then went down to my room where I found my brother and my thirty-something cousing jamming out Jimi Hendrix. At about 11:30, I got an e-mail from her that almost sounded like an apology but not quite.
I replyied and told her I still had feelings for her but that I could do without her child-like temper. I told her to fix it, which I know realistically she cannot do. If she says no, I already have my name in the personals: so to speak.
At least life as a whole doesn't suck.
'Tis a wild ride.