Excursions

I've got some catching up to do with our activity over the past week or so, but versus doing that tonight, I wanted to take the time to post a few pictures I've been wanting to post, mention Craig's upcoming trip tomorrow and the fantasies I have of all the things I will accomplish in his absence, and really just rattle a while before I make my exit to prepare Chicken in Chipotle-Tomato Sauce with Ziti. Sounds fancy and is compliments of Cooking Light Magazine. So, the photograph above depicts the apartment living room Craig and I have so tenderly pieced together. While I have posted apartment pictures before, this one hails as my favorite thus far. The lighting is nice, the pumpkin wall is there, the new coffee ("butler") table, the new eating table, the dyed daisies Craig bought me last week, plus the glass of wine to add the finishing touch. The flowers we bought from a corner store. Many bodegas and corner markets in New York are flanked on their outsides by garden or flower selections. The more fresh cut flowers or plants we've added to our tables or sills, the happier I feel, so I conclude flowers in the apartment at all times is a must.*Speaking of Craig, who has bought me flowers now twice this year, marking a record for our entire relationship of close to seven years (!), as we discussed on our commute to work this morning...tomorrow he embarks on his first fishing trip with some old friends from Syracuse (not that they live in Syracuse now, but that Craig knew them from Syracuse back when), plus one husband friend from Atlanta (my very gifted and gorgeous friend Andrea's husband, to be exact) plus maybe a couple of guys Craig doesn't know. The place where Craig will board a boat to wield a rod is pronounced "Steen-hatchie." Or, maybe it's "Steen-a-hatchie" (Florida). He described this place to me years ago, back when the first fishing trip with these boys was ever scheduled, that trip and each subsequent trip which he has missed due to schedule conflict. Therefore, this is his first chance to go in something like three years. So, as I write this, he is getting a haircut and will be home soon to pack all kinds of summerish beach- or boating-wear. (Sidenote: I posted a frustrated post last night about the dumb expensive Oakley sunglasses he just had to buy in SoHo yesterday with me as his witness...well, sort of, until I bailed before the purchase was made, irritated at being in a sunglasses store for near an hour, and cabbed it home on the FDR - but I have since deleted that post because it was pretty bratty.) Anyway, his excitement for activity doesn't begin until the night before. This has been Craig's M.O. since I've known him. Back when we were miserably long distance, I would get excited about trips to see him weeks in advance of the trip(s). I would call, however many times, "Craig, aren't you so excited to see me??" and he would reply coolly, "Not yet." Night before, always, almost always, he would stop cleaning his apartment in anticipation of my visit long enough to answer my question over the phone, "Yeah," in a very lovingly gruff voice. The night before anything he enjoys or will enjoy, Craig glows. It's standard practice.*Meanwhile, here is KB, left to ponder the mysteries of New York on her own for the first time in a year. This isn't necessarily completely true, since I've taken classes the entire time I've been in New York, which constitutes me navigating myself to Greenwich Village solo once a week, plus a writing workshop I took in SoHo on a Saturday, plus the AIDS-charity bookfair I traveled to in SoHo solo last fall, plus any other time Craig hasn't been by my side while we've worked to become New Yorkers. Still this will be an entire weekend, including Friday which I am liberally taking off despite my slow boss' inability to return my "vacation approval" (I keep announcing verbally that I am not in Friday; what more does he want??) of much of the following: purging of old clothes (there is a Good Will several blocks away on 2nd Ave), gathering of all old writing from two semesters (although the only writing with which I'm satisfied was produced semester 2), working out (I wish to devote so much more time to it, but working 9 hours, commuting 1 hour each way, and commanding the kitchen as Chef KB each night, which includes nightly grocery store trips, chopping vegetables and sauteeing, since I don't presently have a sous-chef, takes up much of my time!), blogging, walking to Central Park by myself (which oddly frightens me, even though I'm hands-on New York and have been to the Great Lawn a dozen times or more in Craig's footsteps), and many other miscellaneous "wish-I-could-accomplish-everday" things, in addition to traveling to Weehawken, New Jersey Sunday for book club (we're discussing The Year of Magical Thinking, which I read last summer.) Book club is meeting very early Sunday afternoon, so I should be home early enough in the evening to finish any leftover "before-Craig-gets-home" detail in the apartment. Now, let's compare what I say I am doing this weekend to what I actually do this weekend, after the fact. No matter what, New York and KB solo are an interesting combo. I'm excited to see where it goes. I'm equally excited for Craig to have some MAN time. We all know I give him little of that myself...!*