Happiness Is

I can't say I've found the thread of my story. I'm so glad to be home, but I already miss the closeness Rolf and I had during the trip. It was really wonderful. Before we left, I was frequently carping that I was afraid we would fight on the trip and not get along; which, rightly, got on his nerves before I stopped. So, you understand that I am really amazed at how sweet our time was together. Unfortunately, we were so tired from all the walking we did, I can't say there was lots of "hugs and kisses" going on. But there was a lot of laughter.

Now that we're back, I've told him to shut-up once, when he snapped at me accusing me of yanking on d'Ohgy's collar. I snapped at him in front of my sister when I was telling a story that he knew pretty well, because it is one of our favorites from the trip for some odd reason. But he chimed in and I snapped "You weren't there." And, then another time, at his folks house there was an unfortunate bit about the food disposal repair job from right before we left, where I had lied about how it all turned out because it pissed me off. I knew it would piss him off too, and I didn't see any need to set him off too . . . So, anyway.

I'm eager for more time together, alone and active. I look at the calendar, and the days are going to slip away. We've got company coming friday Mrs. Walker (from Tommy) with her husband. Saturday afternoon, a friend from PA is coming for dinner and a show. Then Sunday Rolf is going to watch the Redskins lose to the Cowboys . . . and then it's Monday again.

Except, he's going on a business trip, and leaves Monday or Tuesday for the week.

Hopefully, before long, I'm going to be directing another show. If it happens, it will get started soon and fast, and there will be so many more people and meetings, and so much less relaxed alone time. I just want to hold on to what we had in Italy, and more.

So, now that you know, I think I can find the story.

It begins in Venice.

The Bitch is Back

Hi! Bon Giorno! Yay!

Oh, I had such a wonderful time. And believe it or not, I'm glad to be back, and back at work.

Of course, there's piles of things to do. . . most importantly: personal blogging!

I've got stories. I've got pictures. And I have just a touch of jet lag. So, as soon as I can, I'll get my stories and pictures posted. They may be a bit unpolished; I just want to get them down before I forget.

Speaking of jet lag, it isn't so bad really. Yesterday, when I got up at 2 O'clock in the afternoon ROME TIME, I had the wonderful pleasure of watching the sunrise on the lake. And yet, it felt like I'd slept for hours and hours.

It was very nice.

All the best,
Vig

Miss Adelade's Lament

Hey doll,

I'm sorry. I'd feel kinda stupid, but I decided not to come over; it made sense at the time. I'm not sure it does now, but what's done is done.

I seem to have your wrong home phone number programmed into my cell phone. I left a message on your cell, but I wasn't able to check the other line, you know; if you're like me, you probably turn it off at home too.

So, the time flew by, and I needed to come home. (So , there's that.)

But!, when I said I decided not to come: that's just the half of it.

I need to do some cooking this evening. I'm going to do our dinner, dinner for my folks tomorrow, (and, besides, I really want to cook. Although,I'm not sure I'll recognize jet lag before it knocks me flat on my ass.)

So: I really do want to see you . . . and I didn't want to come empty handed. . . and I'm dying to cook (can we talk about two weeks of restaurant food?!) . . .

The point being: I'm going to come over on Tuesday or Wednesday - you choose - and bring dinner, that I'm cooking most of it tonight.

And what I had decided to grab, (so I wouldn't have been empty handed if I got to see you today), is still in my car.

You'll have to wait to see what it is.

ciao

V

Hail, O Blessed One

At 6:15 PM today, I was sitting on the steps of the Piti Palace at the top of the Boboli Garden, next to Rolf, Watching the sun set on Florence, while drinking red wine from a Pepsi cup.

Ahhh.

Viva Iàtalia

Greetings from Rome. . . no wait, Iàm not in Rome. This is Florence. Donàt ask me what day it is either.

So we landed in Venice on Friday. The view from our hotel was an intersection of canals and two pedestrian bridges. Sometimes the canal was congested with gondolaàs, with musicians playing guitar or accordian, and a singer singing O Solo Mio or something from the movies. I was overwhelemed and laughed until I cried.

The night before last we had dinner at the base of the Ponte Vecchio. Today we saw Michealangeoàs David, and so much more.

Siesta time. More later. Yay'bye.

Vig

Three Coins in the Fountains

I'm off to throw some coins into the Treve Fountain in Rome!

See you in November!

YAY-Bye

Vig

High Fidelity

Back on Thursday, after Rolf and I nearly squished each other to death hugging in the kitchen, we collapsed at the bar table. After he vented for a while, he said "This is never going to go away! What will make it better?" He was quite shocked that I had a ready answer:

"A New Car."

I would have gone out and bought one on Friday too - except I have a credit oops to fix, and it was raining besides. But I'm still getting one. If we make it to Italy, I said I'm getting a Volvo S-omething convertible, midnight blue. If we don't; I'm getting a BMW 3 series, convertible, midnight blue.

He laughed, and asked me just how I thought I was going to pay for it. And I said, "You know, I haven't figured that one out just yet, so I'm going to leave it up to you."

So, I'm actually looking at smaller cheaper cars today. A PT Cruiser convertible, new is in the low $20's, and the Beetle convertible too. I know they're not the best car, but they're both so much better than my Oldsmobile 88. Which, was a free car - but, I think I'm done doing penance for wrecking my beloved LeSabre with the moon roof. But damn, even a car in the $20's has a monthly payment of $350.

_________

Saturday, after I recovered, I did make the 420 connection. Rolf was still hovering over his laptop until early evening, but we had decided to make a special evening of it, as it was the eve of our 25th Anniversary.

Now, all our luggage is in the living room. And everything that fits us, is in those two suitcases. And also, I haven't gotten drapes yet so, anyone walking by get's a sneak peak for free if their timing is right, if you get my drift.

So, I found what I needed, leaving the packing intact, went on and took my shower . . . got stoned sometime in there . . . you know, all the while Rolf is saying: "Just ten more minutes, I promise. . .I'll be done in just ten more minutes." Finally, at about 7:30: "Ok, ok, I'm done. I'll go get in the shower - do you want to make the reservations. . ."

What do you think I did with my spare time?

And then :) after I made the reservations at my favorite restaurant, Floriana's Mercury Grille on 17th Street . . . all I remember is that I was listening too Bob Mould, Body of Song. . except I wasn't really sure it was him. It could have been Bob Schneider who had opened for the Dixie Chicks, but I was hoping it was Bob Mould. I was dancing and putting the dishes away, watching the clock because I had figured he'd take a 20 minute shower, take ten minutes to get dressed, we could have a cocktail, and then make it to the restaurant by 8:45.

It was Bob Mould I was listening too, but for some reason - mostly because I don't have a CD player in my car - but I was never sure. And I wasn't sure until a little while later, after I had realized that Rolf had been in the shower for over half and hour, and after I went in and told him we had reservations for 8:45, and he said with lilt in his voice "Ok, ok. I'll hurry. I'll be right there. " And I partially shut the door, but peaked in, and he partially opened the shower curtain and peaked out. And we laughed.

It was then, when I was back in the living room, and I heard High Fidelity from Body of Song that I knew for sure that I was listening to Bob Mould. Rolf stuck his head out from the kitchen, cause he was naked, and all his clothes were in the living room where there are no curtains on the windows; asking me to get him some clothes to wear. While I put his outfit together, he was dancing and singing High Fidelity (his favorite song these days), naked in the sun-room.

I doubt that Bob Mould was thinking of us getting ready for our Eve of 25th Anniversary (in Lieu of Rome) Dinner, with me high and laughing in the living room; and Rolf, naked, dancing, and singing in the dark in the sun-room: when he was writing High Fidelity; but it couldn't have been any more fitting.

or funny.

It's the darndest thing - 4

"I made you some potato pancakes but I ate them," he said crossly, while hunched over his lap top.

"Why did you do that" I spat.

Exasperated, in his why don't you get this demeanor, he says "You wouldn't get out of bed. Not only am I fighting this battle, for which I am ashamed because some think I'm partially culpable, our vacation is ruined, you won't get out of bed, and I get to just sit here and think that's it's all my fault. So I ate them."

I don't know if that was before or after I yelled at him that's he's a jerk.

I went downstairs and sat in the dark, drinking a coke.

I hate it that this has happened to him. It is not good for his health. I hate for him to so disappointed. It is really a very sad sight to see him so very frustrated and angry.

_________

Brightened by a little caffeen and sugar, I went up and sat in the sun-room for a little while, while he scowled and hunched over his laptop.

"Did you say I missed the meeting to talk about our trip to Italy?"

"Oh," almost smiling, obviosly relieved "now you want to talk about going to Italy."

I must have been very groggy, because everything is a little strange and dreamlike.

"We need to find out how much tickets are going to cost, is there any way we can get them for the same rate as the ones we canceled? Because the company said they will pay our costs, and I fully intend to make them pay the difference in our ticket cost, I just hope it isn't $7,000. They don't have any idea that we were flying business class. But it looks like this response should be filed on Tuesday. And then it will probably take (the federal client) three months to review it. So we can go. Do you want to go on Thursday, and just pick it up there? Or is it going to be raining the whole time? We could go in the spring, and go somewhere else, south to warm sunshine and water. . "

"I want to go to Italy, we can change our plans and fly into Venice. We still have hotel reservations there, and then we can go down the coast, and we won't have that waste of time traveling from Naples to Venice . . ."

"Ok. I'll let them know."

We were still sitting there, watching America's Funniest Home Video's. And I almost laughed.

"Did I see a smile?"

"Yes, I'm feeling better," I said. "And hey! Who could have guessed that, on our 25th Anniversary we could honestly say: 'The best is yet to come!"?

It's the darndest thing - 3

Still, this looked like it might be an all nighter for him. And with only four hours of sleep. . . so I asked if he'd eaten - yes - everything he could get his hands on from the snack machine. . . I offered to bring him dinner, but he said "Hell no. I'm sending this draft off within the next few hours and then I'm coming home."

I tried to contact the travel agent some more. But mostly, I just sat still and looked at the trees.

He got home at 6:30. . . fifteen minutes before our flight would have left. We stood halfway between the kitchen and the sunroom table, and hugged each other tight.

He had a couple of glasses of wine; I had a vodka gimlet. He sat in the big red chair. I thought that other than the many degrees of shading; the chair and the wine were the same color.

It was really hard to look him in the eyes. I couldn't stand to see the eyes of my family in the pictures in the hall. I thought all the pictures and mirrors should be covered in black. The clocks too. At dinner, I hated the waitress for catching my eye and smiling at me. I just kept my head down. I tried again and again to have eye contact with Rolf, but my head just kept falling. Rolf cried when he saw that I couldn't look at him. I was so ashamed when I said something bitter and accusitory, that I started crying again.

_________

I thought I'd stay in bed on Friday. Why not? No one would be home, who cares. But the dog needed feeding.

I made a cup of tea. Then another, and then another, but with vodka in it. . . and I sat there and drank tea and vodka all day in silence. Oh, except that Bemmy called at 2:15.

"Oh, how I was hoping you wouldn't answer the phone," he said
"yeah, I know. We hope that we can leave by Sunday, or Wednesday maybe."
"Well, I was thinking that my unemployment check might be there, and I could come and keep you company."
"That would be nice," I said. "Could you bring me some stamps? Rolf asked me to put stamps on these bills and send them out, but if you'll bring me the stamps I won't have to go out."
"Stamps? um, sure I guess I have some stamps around . . . "
"Ok, great. Thanks."

He showed up at 5:15. Grabbed his unemployment check and said he had to rush to the bank before they closed at 5:45, but he'd be right back. And that's all I heard from him.

Rolf says "well, you know how he is. He probably got distracted by some porn on his computer and couldn't pull himself away."

I had made fried mushroom ravoli for lunch. When Rolf called and said he was coming home, I fried some more for him. And I fried up some green tomatoes too. That's all we had for dinner. He brought home meatloaf and mashed potatoes, as I had asked him too, but we didn't have that.

Plans were taking shape to get our vacation going. Even though Rolf said "How do you think I feel? Our vacation is ruined, our anniversary is ruined, and even though we will be in Italy next week, or maybe in the Spring; God knows I know that it doesn't count unless it's on the exact date. I'm going to hear about this forever, aren't I."

I think we went downstairs and we watched "Madea's Homecoming." He asked me what I was going to do on Saturday. "I'm going to try and stay in bed," I said. "Is that so you can hide?" he said. "No, it's so I don't feel."

I think he got out of bed on Saturday at 11. This response to the client's threat, once drafted by him get's sent out to a bunch of people, they send comments back, and then it goes out again to a higher level of people. The sequence continues until all the comments are in the document, and then it goes to the president and vice presedent levels. So, he got up and was working on the comments that came in overnight.

At one, he comes in and asks me how long I intend to stay in bed. "Oh, I think I can make it a couple of more hours" I said. I put on a face mask to hide the light, ear plugs to block the noise, and got into a fetal position - because that's the only position where my back didn't hurt. It took some effort to stay comfortable, but I did make it a couple of more hours. When he came in a shoved me saying "It's 3:30. Get out of bed, you're being childish." I screamed "I DON'T WANT TOO, AND I DON'T HAVE TOO." All I left off was "AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME." Then, what was it he said?, he was very irritated, I was groggy and he said "I guess it's too late to make an appointment with you to talk about going to Italy." I don't know, something like that. He say's I sat up saying "I want to go to Italy."

_________

It's the darndest thing - 2

I had to tell Puck first. She was in the sun room, waiting to take us to the airport.

"We're not going to Italy today. Rolf's project is in trouble, and if he doesn't get it fixed, he'd probably get fired. Basically, he'd have to quit his job in order to go. We might be able to go over the weekend. . . or sometime."

I left messages for the travel agent. Puck said she'd better get going or she'd get stuck in traffic. I told her I thought that was a good idea, because I really wanted to be alone. I canceled the hotel reservations for Rome and Sorrento. . . and waited for the travel agent.

Then I called an acquaintance to see if he had any pot. But no luck.

I sat in near silence looking at the trees for most of the next four hours.

My friend, 2JB, who's the wife of Rolf's boss (who's also our friend), well she called me and she said she had just found out what happened, and that when she found out she cried and she figured that she was crying with me, so I should know. . That was nice.

I guess it was sometime after 4. . . Rolf forwarded an email from the JBs, saying

"J and I are thinking of you today. As you may expect, she's
reminding me what the trip means to you guys. . "

That's when I cried. I had only just stopped when Bemmy called.

"Oh, my God, what are you doing home?"

"We're not going today" I tried to say
"What? When are you going?"
"Someday. One day"
"What?"
"One Day" I sobbed, "bye."
and hung up the phone.

_________

Of course, Rolf is distraught as hell at this point. He stay's at work unti 7, working on a draft reply to the threat from the client; all while trying to figure out how to salvage our anniversary celebration, and knowing it's only been four or five months since I last battled suicidal ideation, worrying about my sanity. Though when he calls me and cross examines me about how many little drinkies I've had (none), or what pills I had taken (none), or if I'd been "crying my eyes out" (I hadn't); I wasn't feeling very forgiving.

It's the darndest thing - 1

Everything is so clean. I'm at work. My office is all organized and prepared for me to be in Italy for two weeks; but, here I am. My house (which, on Thursday, the day we were supposed to leave, was the cleanest it has ever been,) has open suitcases in the living room, tightly made guest rooms, only small spots show that we've been home; a pile of clothes discarded in disgust, a few dishes to be bused, houseplants brought in at the last minute before we left are still begging for water. I'm sure that would have been the last thing Rolf did before we headed for the airport.

It was a good week. We were so excited. My Mom and Dad had been over for lunch last Sunday. I ordered Chinese delivery, which was there by the time they arrived. We used the map of Italy as a table cloth, and Mom and Dad kept pointing at city after city which we must be sure to visit. It was so fun to have the map right there on the table. They were so excited for us. They don't know we haven't left yet.

I had hired someone to take the tree out, so after lunch I begged Mom and Dad to forgive us, but we had to go work in the yard to make way for the bob cat and stump grinder. So they left, and we spent the balance of the lovely day moving things from the driveway to under the sunroom. (We had moved just about everything out because we had seen four snakes, and we decided that they might be in the mess that was under the sunroom.)

It was such a crazy week trying to get ready to go. In addition to all you'd expect, packing, shopping: I was still making hotel reservations, and the people were going to take out the tree before we left, and my old maid service had broken each knob on my stove top (I fired them after 8 years.) So the knobs had to be replaced, which was an unbelievable trial. I went to three appliance stores, no help. Oh, and I interviewed and hired a new cleaning service too. Oh, Oh, Oh!; and the garbage disposal had broken.

Monday morning - we didn't know when the tree company was coming, the new maid service was coming at 12:30, I'd told them they had to be done in the kitchen by 3, because the plumber was coming at 3. Rolf was scheduled to be home at 3 for the plumber, and we only had hotel reservations for three nights in Rome.

I was putting on my shirt to for work, the door bell rang, and surprise surprise, there was a drunk on my doorstep saying he was there to take out my tree, so could we move the cars? Being that they hadn't told me they were coming, I assumed they weren't. It was too late for Rolf to make arrangements to work from home; so, I had a surprise day off.

This was not "the guy" I hired, by the way.

I asked, "are you Paul?"

"Nah," he said "He went off to get some chains for the saws. . . He'll be back in a while. That's a lot of wood you got back there. 's'Gonna be a long day. . "

"Well, do you think you'll still be here when I get home from work, so I can pay you then?"

"IT AIN'T GONNA TAKE EIGHT HOURS!" he said.

"Just how long is a long day?" I wondered silently.

It was such a nice morning. My house may not be ready for a magazine layout, but it does feel elegant and spacious. I had my coffee and all the travel guides in front of me, as I sat at the dining room table watching the tree crew work like mules to take the tree out, sorting through emails from the hotels that said they had space for us. You can already start to see the lake between the leaves on the trees.

__________

The tree folk quit at 3 and just left, with a whole lot of work left to do. So I guess a long day in the tree cutting industry is about six hours. I never did talk to the guy I hired. I am afraid that the tree stump will fall back on the house when they go to grind it up, so I begged Bemmy to house sit on Tuesday and Wednesday, just so I'd know that someone was there who could call me quick if the sunroom fell off the house.

The plumbers didn't show up. Eventually the plumber company called and tried to reschedule for the next day. When they realized that wasn't going to work for me, they went on and sent the crew out even though it was after 5:30. What they found was that the circuit breaker was broken and needed to be replaced by an electrician. "That'll be $75 please." So I call an electrician and beg them to come out on Tuesday or Wednesday to replace the breaker. What do they find? Nothing. As a matter fact, the disposal is now working and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the breaker. "That'll be $95 please." I had to rush home at lunch on Wednesday to deal with that. And then I swung around to pick up the knobs for the stove - "That'll be $75 please." Then back to work.

Bemmy said that three tree guys came on Tuesday, and didn't do much. So I had to call them and tell them to hurry up. I had to put up construction fencing so d'Ohgy wouldn't get out while we were gone. And that worked out pretty well. They didn't finish. They still haven't done the root ball, but everything else is done. I couldn't get out of work early enough, so Rolf and I ended up putting up the fence in near darkness.

We were pretty much packed, I just kept cleaning and organizing, while Rolf attacked the swamp of office bills and records. We zipped up the suitcases at about 1:30 in the morning, and I was in bed by about 2. I fell asleep thinking "You've got to get up a dawn and check out that fence!" But I didn't. On Thursday, I got to work at about 8:30; I had planned on being in at 7 and leaving at 2:30. Our flight was at 6:45PM.

_________

I was practicaly sent home from work. "Good Morning! Just get everything organized and get out! I know you have a lot to do at home today," my boss said. But I didn't really. Just waiting around. Puck met me at home. We checked out the new fencing and assessed the work that was left on the tree, and then we went to lunch. We were supposed to leave at 3:15. Puck asked me when Rolf was going to get home. And I said, hopefully, "Oh, he'll probaly come running in with ten minutes to spare." But then he called.

"Where are you?" he said.

"I'm in the dressing room, why?"

"Are you sitting down, you'd better sit down"

"Um, ok I'm in the bedroom now, sitting down. . "

He said we couldn't go today. That made me mad, because I thought he was kidding.

"I don't believe you." I said.

I was in shock.

Every day a little death

And from Rolf's boss' boss:

Rolf--

I wanted to let you know how much I admire the professional manner that you are demonstrating given the current events. You are acting consistent with the best of (fucking company's name deleted)'s ethic, and it is much appreciated both here and by the Sector. You continue to be a valuable senior member of (blah) and (blah).

I can only imagine what you must be going through personally at this time. Please rest assured that (the fucking company) will make sure that all of your costs are compensated, and we will provide you with additional time off after all this is over.

I'll be in later and will stop by your office.

Many thanks,

(another jerk)

And on a sidenote, I think I'll have Xanex and coffee for breakfast.

Artist: Stephen Sondheim
Song: Every Day a Little Death Lyrics

Every day a little death
In the parlor, in the bed
In the curtians, in the silver
In the buttons, in the bread
Every day a little sting
In the heart and in the head
Every move and every breath
And you hardly feel a thing
Brings a perfect little death

Miss Otis Regrets, She's Unable to Lunch Today

From Rolf's boss:

Folks,

I wanted to take a second to just convey how extraordinarily proud I am of your combined response to this difficult situation. Your positive attitude and willingness to do the right thing as we face today’s developments on the (expletive delted) project is most appreciated and reflects well on our team. Rolf, all I can say is we are obviously at the ‘last resort,’ and I regret the personal disruption you are suffering as a result. Dan committed to making things right, and I will follow up with him on that score.

Let’s get through our part with the continued honesty and professionalism you’ve displayed to date, and please let me know if you need any additional resources to get the job done.

Again, thank you.

fuckers.