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23 August Happy birthday to me! Thirty-nine years old. Everyone says that this is The Year, that this is the year where everything special will happen. Yeah, that works for me, let's do it.
So yesterday Omar and I went to Lancaster, though everyone on the notify knows I had an anxiety attack beforehand that he would cancel and leave me flat. Tracing called me laughing as soon as she got the email, especially since I'm always going on at her about borrowing trouble. And when I told him he said, "Why do you always think that? When has that ever happened?" But I'm getting ahead of myself.
So I called the car-rental place for them to come and pick me up, and the guy said that he couldn't because he was the only person there, and besides, there wasn't a car for me, the car that was supposed to be for me was having its brakes fixed. Which naturally filled me with glee, but what could I do about it? "Thank you for being so nice about it!" the car-rental guy said. So I waited and waited. Fortunately, I had ordered the car for two hours before Omar was coming over, so there was no rush. And in about half an hour, he called back, "Would you mind taking a pickup truck instead? It seats five!" "Does it have an automatic transmission?" "Yes, it does." "Okay!" So he came to pick me up. He got confused and lost (it's always a bad thing when I give directions), but he called me when he was quite nearby and I was able to walk to where he was. He was in the truck. It was huge. It was beautiful. It was costing me the same as the tiny economy car I was getting. I was in love. After I brought it home, I wasn't able to park it on my block, so I sort of had it catty-cornered in front of our driveway. Cul-de-sacs are useful that way. Anyway, so I just sat in front of the house, reading and waiting for Omar. When he came down the road I said, "Guess which is our car?"
He said, "O my God! Follow me!" And at the end of our block, some guys were throwing out some furniture, and there was a beautiful wardrobe, and they had said that he could have it, and he answered, "Well, I don't have a truck or anything..." But we did! There was a truck, and by golly, that wardrobe fit in perfectly. "Now I know why God gave me the truck!" I said.
So we dropped the wardrobe off at his wife's house, and were on the road to Lancaster. It's a three hour trip, but we managed to drive it in a mere seven and a half hours. It takes a great deal of care to make a three hour trip last seven and a half hours, but we put our minds to it and we managed it handily. Actually we didn't manage it all on our own, we were helped by a jackknifed truck spilling fertilizer on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, so we were detoured off and it was very complicated to get ourselves into the right direction and all the way home. And we were famished! I had brought dinner, so I made lobster tails and filet mignon and rice and corn, and when you are starving to death, a gourmet meal is even more transcendent than it usually is. And let me tell you, there is not a lot on this earth more sexy than a shirtless man eating a lobster tail clutched in his fist, too hungry to bother with utensils. Then we lay down and watched about twenty minutes of The Legend of Lylah Clare before falling asleep. I have no idea what happened after the first flashback--actually I don't know what happened during the first flashback, which was when Omar fell asleep, which meant that I could let go and sleep myself. Then he woke up and went to bed, which I found annoying. There are too many bedrooms in this house.
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