Packing.

T met my mom a few weeks ago. And Mom's girlfriend. For a guy raised in an uber-religious family, he was pretty blase about it.

"I like your mom," he said, "Actually, I felt pretty comfortable around them both."

Good thing, that - we're packing up and going there for the rest of the week, as we are on holidays.

I managed to carry everything I needed for a year-long trip covering four seasons on three continents in one backpack...once. I have since discovered that I pack exactly the same amount of crap whether I am going for two days or a year.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I pack more for a weekend.

Problem is, I knew I wouldn't want to be dressing up and wearing makeup in the middle of the Sahara desert. When I'm travelling, looking good is not on the priority list, and high heels just aren't necessary. However, going home and visiting friends is another story entirely.

First off, you never know whether it is going to rain, snow, or shine - temperatures in the Prairies at this time of year range from thirty above to twenty below (celcius SWF, celcius) and the weather dudes really can't predict what's going to happen in the next hour, let alone the rest of the week.

Secondly, chances are good I'll run into people I haven't seen in a few years. You want to be looking good when you run into those stuck-up bitches from highschool - there is something gratifying to say "oh, no, I haven't gotten around to having kids yet, I got a degree and traveled Africa instead" while you watch them wiping the snotty nose on their third or fourth little brat. Well, that and I weigh exactly the same as I did in grade 11.

T has already figured out my packing style. I was finishing the laundry this morning, and he was setting out the stuff he intended to take. He'd dug out quite a large bag - we both usually just stuff a few things in our laptop knapsacks, but this one was a duffel bag.

I started packing my own things, in my laptop bag, of course. Then I realised I needed to bring a nice pair of shoes, and a fall jacket. And another pair of slacks, in case I go out bar hopping with my cousin. T had two pair of jeans and three shirts in that great big bag...so much space left over...so I asked him - "hey, can I tuck a few things in there?"

"That's what I'm bringing this bag for," he said smugly.

Who says they don't pay attention?

Apologies

I got home from work yesterday, excited to have discovered there is a craft supply store in the next town over. I had every intention of going, but wanted to wait for T to get home because...well, just because.

He often doesn't get home until 5:30, but I called the store, and they close at 5:30. I tried to call T, but his phone was off.

I thought about it, and realised we'd had a conversation a couple of weeks back about nights off. I volunteer on Tuesday nights, so he gets an evening to himself every week. I (rather bluntly) suggested he find something to do one night a week, or even every other week, so I could have an evening alone, too. We agreed that Thursday would be a good day for that. Yesterday was Thursday.

So, I packed the dog in the car and drove to the craft store. I spent an hour chatting with the lady and picking out pretty scrapbooking stamps and papers. Spent a wad of cash. Then I stopped at the bank. And ran to the grocery store.

With all my running around done, I came home, in no particular hurry.

I could smell the barbecue when I pulled in the driveway.

The first thing out of T's mouth when I walked in the door was "Sorry!"

"Sorry for what?"

"For being late. You aren't mad? I thought maybe you were mad. My phone died, and I couldn't call."

"Me? Mad? Hell, no...I was shopping"

"Oh. Whew. Thanks for being sane..."

And, with this, I got a hug and a great big kiss. I do not know what sorts of women he has been hanging out with, if he considers me exceptionally stable and sane. I told him I thought he was out playing Scrabble with his friend J, as per our conversation a couple weeks back. He said "No, if I do that, I will call for sure."

Later in the evening, I pointed out that the best thing about our relationship (to me) is that it's just like being single, but less lonely. He places no demands or ultimatums on me. I can do what I want, spend my time and money however I like, and hang out with anyone I choose. Mr Wonderful (an ex) stayed here on the weekend with his new girlfriend. T had no issues with this, and, afterward, decided he quite liked both of them. What a sweetheart. He really does fit into my life...

Play

T has no sense of play.

In my family, play is just a given. Mom still starts water fights in the kitchen (though, in her devious wisdom, she always hands a mop to a kid afterwards, and is good for another week...), and granny, at the tender age of 82, could still be found chasing my younger cousins around the farmyard with a hand-made elastic gun.

T doesn't do these things. For a guy who doesn't really want to grow up, he hasn't got much of a handle on how to stay a kid.

Yesterday was a birthday. One of T's nephews turned 2. The party included both of T's brothers, their wives, 5 kids between 6 years and 3 months, and T's parents. I hadn't met T's brothers, yet.

We did the introductions, then I escaped the scrutiny by taking the kids out to meet my dog, who loves little guys. Then we ate. Birthday cake and present opening followed. Then...

Then T's brothers brought out a slip'n'slide for the kids, perfect on a 30 degree day. T's mom started handing out water guns, too. The brothers trooped back inside and changed into swimsuits, and proceeded to show the little guys how it's done. I was wearing jeans, looking on jealously and sweating, but one of the kids shot me, and I 'died' so dramatically that I got hosed down pretty thoroughly.

T sat in the corner, trying to protect his camera from the spray.

T's mom was trying to get him to join his brothers, but he just wasn't into it. I may have discovered a natural ally, however; she stated that she would go if T did. I made big eyes at T and said that I would also go, jeans and all, if he and his mom went first. The pair of us badgered him until T rolled his eyes, took off his shirt, and did a half-hearted plunge at the slide. Then his mom and I went about five times each, while T returned to the corner.

I just don't get this. I'd have been the first one on that damned slide, if I weren't trying so hard not to embarass T in front of his family. Of course, I am finding them a little less reserved, lately, but still. He just doesn't know what to do with my silliness, and I don't know how to deal with his lack thereof...

By Popular Demand

...I guess some folks missed me.

It's hard to generate news when you're busy being domestic. The big accomplishment lately has been the pair of us learning to barbeque, which isn't exactly breaking news. I also find I'm not comically inspired when I'm not mildly pissed off. Go figure.

We did have a 'moment' yesterday.

I got an email at work that my department is recruiting for the rebuilding effort in Afghanistan. I love a challenge, and I have traveled quite a lot in Muslim countries, and loved every minute of it. I looked up the death toll for foreign civilians, and the year-by-year rate was about the same as for the highway I commute to work on every day. I have to admit, I was interested.

I forwarded the email to T, thinking we could discuss it when I got home.

I arrived to T's level stare. "A year in Afghanistan, huh?"

Uh-oh.

I am not quite sure what reaction I had expected, but it certainly wasn't what I got. T is quite guarded with his emotions, and I guess I had him pegged as an uber-independent type. I guess I was wrong.

He stormed off to shower, not even really looking at me.

Eventually it all came out that he feels happy and stable for the first time in forever. He felt like that would be abandonment. He knew how interested I would be, and was frustrated with the situation, because he felt that expressing himself would be tantamount to holding me back.

I finally got across to him that I was just opening a discussion, and had not made up my mind.

In the end, he said he hadn't realised how important I had become to him, and felt really shaken by his own emotions.

Today, I came home to a bouquet of hand-picked field daisies, tucked into a pop bottle on the table.

I guess I'll be staying home...

Sex and other random things

I have been saying for awhile now (though never in earshot of another boy) that the sex with M was probably the best I was ever going to get. I am thinking of revising that statement. Technically, sure. He had a knack for doing just the right thing for the moment. But, you know, he didn't want to be with me, didn't want any future. Sure, we cared about each other, but it was in a rather...restrained way.

T isn't the most experienced guy. He says he's not fussed about it, as long as it doesn't bother me. Nah. Less bad training to try to undo.

T wants to be with me. T wants a future. T is a quick learner.

Mmmm...yeah...



Last night, I was out at a meeting until past my usual bedtime. T was sleeping when I got home, and I crawled into bed, but couldn't get to sleep myself. I got up again, not wanting to wake him with my tossing and turning. I kept having all these thoughts about T, the pair of us, and life in general. So I wrote him a note, and leaned it up against the coffee pot where I knew he would find it in the morning. I was trying not to get too sappy - T is still nervous about 'mushy stuff', but I don't know how well I succeeded. He seemed happy enough - he woke me with a big kiss and a 'thank you for the note'. I really like it when he smiles at me like that...