Nice Weekend That Shouldn't Have Been Nice - Part 3

We parted from D's parents, not quite relieved. D said "I won't be relaxed until I have your father's car back at your parents' house."

I said "I won't be relaxed until we are on the train back to NYC."

"Don't worry," he said. He was right - I was worried about time, but realistically we had plenty of time to drive back, grab a quick bite to eat, pack, and leave again in two hours. Plenty of time!

We stopped quickly at the Rosewood, one of my favorite spots in all the world. It's less than a mile from my parents' house. It's this nautical themed restaurant not-on-the-coast that has amazing ice cream and apparently amazing seafood that people go nuts for. I customarily get a grilled cheese and the best onion rings on the planet. I'd been craving them all weekend and every attempt to eat them had been foiled up until this point, so I decided it was worth the time risk to hopefully get some onion rings.

We pulled up frantically. I asked the girl how long it would take for onion rings, a grilled cheese, and two ice creams, and she said "Five minutes!" YES!

I devoured a watermelon sherbet cone during those five minutes. We jumped back into the car and drove back to my parents' house. When we arrived, Father said "Did you guys call about getting on the train?" "No," we both said. "Well, maybe you should. You know. Just so we don't drive all the way there in the rain and then you can't get on the train."

"I don't think we have anything to worry about," D said.

"Well, I you should call," Father said.

"You know, there's really no reason not to call," I said to D.

He called.

And, of course, the train was sold out.

Stranded.

And the MVP of the weekend is... Father!

We spent the night sleeping on the basement floor, since Brother and his girlfriend AM were sleeping in his room. Before we went to sleep, we played Battleship and I was filled with nostalgia for Former Boyfriends with whom I hid in the basement in years past. I miss the days of being 18 and rabid, unable to help myself and finding any way to find time alone with Boy and to escape the family. Whatever Boyfriend would be banished to the basement and I'd be "sleeping" upstairs in my bedroom. I'd sneak down to the basement after my parents had gone to sleep and I'd creep back into my bed before they awoke. We'd hide in the basement, the lights dimly glowing, having those all night conversations that we thought were oh-so-deep in college and I'd think things like "Is he my soulmate?" and "There's nothing that matters in this world beyond this basement" and "This is so beautiful."

I had these sorts of feelings with D as we laughed on our pile of comforters and vintage Return of the Jedi bedding in my parents' basement. Except this time I was thinking things like "I don't believe in a soulmate" and "The world beyond this basement is ugly and antagonistic" and "He is so beautiful."

We slept surprisingly well and woke up happy and with back pain. We had a nice breakfast with my Mother, hopped on the train and headed back to NYC.

It makes me sad that I am no longer impressed by the view of the city skyline from the train. When I was visiting Certain Someone last summer, every time I saw it I was filled with excitement and couldn't think anything other than "I must live here!"

We got off the train and headed back to my apartment, where I read mail, quickly unpacked and then repacked for the night. We headed to a furniture store where D intended to buy a couch. I'd made a to-scale floorplan of his apartment prior to our leaving for the weekend, along with to-scale little pieces of furniture that we cut out and arranged to see if the two-seat or three-seat couch would be optimal in his extremely small studio. (Incidentally, Mother played with this to-scale floor plan toy and said "You realize your father did this exact thing when we moved into this house, right?" I have so become my parents and there is no use resisting!) He'd decided on the three-seat, but on our way to the furniture store he started doubting himself and decided to go for the two-seat, which they no longer had in stock.

Drat!

Suffering from an intense nacho craving, I said that I'd like something involving nachos prior to our seeing Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man. We had a nice date at a cheesy Mexican place on Broadway. You know the one - with the giant neon Mexican hat. Yeah. That one. Awesome.

There were a million people in line at the Angelika (weird for a Monday night - is everyone seeing Broken Flowers?) so we decided to sit down early instead of dropping off D's suit at his apartment.

Weird movie. I don't know what to think. I thought it was a bit judgmental. Whereas White Diamond was a love letter, this movie used the character of Timothy Treadwill to bring up issues at the expense of the deceased. It felt weird to me that people in the theater were laughing at him. It was cut so that would happen, and that made me feel uneasy. I feel like Timothy Treadwill's sexuality played a big part in the movie, and that wasn't necessary. I don't know. It was interesting, and it's definitely on my mind, so I guess that means it was a good movie. But don't run out and see it. Rent it if you are curious.

And now I am back at work and trying to enjoy being sedentary until next weekend, when I go to MA again.

Until tomorrow...