English (pirate)

I switched my language preference on Facebook to English (pirate) some time ago, and am finally beginning to get the translations so that I can navigate again. For a while, that really slowed me down.

Now I've begun to look for English (pirate) in other places. G was setting up his new computer last night. When he got to the language section and was selecting English, I was asking for English (pirate) and was genuinely disappointed that the new Windows 7 doesn't have it.

Which makes me think that Apple should make it an option in the next OS. And they're actually cool enough to do it, IMHO.

I watched G fight with that PC and Windows 7 (he's still fighting with them, actually), and all I could think was "thank goodness I have a Mac." It's not perfect, but it's a good beast. Mostly.

But it's gonna be pretty cool when I can switch the OS language preference to English (pirate). Apple is possibly working on it already. If not, someone mention the idea to them. I want English (pirate).

Money

I am talking with G about what I'd like to spend some of the soon-to-be unemployment money on. He is listening and nodding, but interrupts me to say, "You don't have to justify any purchases with me, you know." I pause and say "Well, I'm maybe not justifying, per se - they're reasonable expenditures - but letting you know that I plan to spend money on these items. Like you let me know about buying the computer stuff." "Well, yeah," he says, protesting slightly, "But that's our money - Oooh. Right." "Right," I say with a smile, "It's our money."

Creme Brulée

I am covering the custard layer of creme brulée with sugar as he watches in anticipation.
"How long does creme brulée take?" he asks.
"Just long enough to make the sugar melt together to form a hard crust on top." I answer as I place the ramekin under the broiler.
"Ahh," he says knowingly, nodding his head. After a brief pause he asks, "How long does creme brulée take?"

New Posts Coming - Really.

I've taken a few posts down - ones that dealt with that sociopath, mainly - as so much has changed in my life in such a short time, that I keep forgetting that the sociopath was part of my life, and I'm not interested in remembering.
So, those posts are gone.
I've got a few posts that I'm working on, mainly about the roofing expedition of mine and G's, and I'll be putting those up in the coming week. You might be thinking that the roofing posts will bore you. Pshaw. You think the roofing posts are really going to be about the roof? No, of course not. They're about the relationship. We may have replaced the roof, but we built something way bigger in the process, and I don't think he or I had a clue we were going to do that. Let me just say this - if G and I weren't good for each other, if we didn't have a great relationship happening, we would not have survived the roof job as a couple. No way. *That* was intense. And probably the best investment of my time, energy and effort so far in my life. Good stuff.
I talked with G and we decided it works for us if I take up the November novel writing challenge, so hopefully I'll get through the first draft of the novel I've had knocking around in my head for years now. I anticipate blogging a bit more during that phase, too, since, if I have trouble working on the novel, I plan on blogging instead or at least progressing a few potential posts.
As you can read, it's my hope to provide a bit more content here by the coming year. It was my intent last year, too, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day. I said that not so long ago to G and he said "No, but it did come down pretty fast." I'm just glad we weren't talking about the roof or our relationship at that time. I'd have had to wonder about that.

Ginger

From the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, I remove several fingers of ginger root.
“What’s that?” asks G, looking at the beige segmented cluster inquisitively.
“Ginger.” I reply, holding it out for his closer inspection.
“How long has she been dead?” he asks with incredulity.

Two Months

“Yeah, you don’t seem to be thinking ‘I wish she’d go home’ about me,” I say to G as we talk over dinner on the two month anniversary of my moving in with him.
“Oh, I think that a lot, actually,” he says casually, “but only when I’m at home and you’re not.”

Nevermind

We return in my car to his workplace, where his motorcycle is, on the industrial side of town after dinner and socializing downtown. He goes into work to get his helmet and leather jacket while I leave for home, having agreed we’ll meet there. I head east on Hall Street, to the 131 North onramp and hop on the freeway. I cruise along at 82 mph, a rate that is somewhat above the limit, true - it’s a beautiful summer evening, and I’m feeling good.

I take the I-96 interchange and head west into the sunset, thinking about G. We take a couple minutes to watch the sun set together most nights, and it pleases me to know that he is some miles behind me in traffic, seeing the same sunset, and that he is probably thinking much the same.

I am a few miles away from my exit when I notice a motorcycle approaching from behind at a fairly good clip. I know that it cannot be G, because I have been traveling at 82 mph continuously, and he’d have to be going quite fast to catch up with me, considering the late start and all. Quite fast. At the rate the motorcycle behind me has been traveling, I expect it to pass me fairly soon. When it does not, I check on it in my rearview mirror. It’s keeping time with me now, oddly enough.

I take my exit, as does the motorcyclist, and by now, I can tell that it is G. I start to wonder how fast he was going to catch up with me, and ponder this the last few miles home. We pull into the drive together, I get out of my car, and start towards the pole barn where he parks the motorcycle. As he emerges, my first words to him are, “How the hell fast were you going that you managed to catch up with me?”

He grins widely and says “I was ONE light cycle behind you - how the hell fast were YOU going that it took me over 20 miles to catch up with you?”

Oh.

Right.

Nevermind.