When HBF's Away...
Dear 30,
Living alone is familiar to me. We talked about that way back when the commingling first began. But here's the scoop. Being alone after living together is weird. I like alone time, but no one wants anyone around when you sit in your worst outfit, sip wine, eat pralines and cream out of the carton and then decide you should self-pedicure-- after the ice cream, not during so we can clarify. I write this while frozen french fries sit in the oven and I think about how I should clear the dining table of mail, spin-art and Martha Stewart craft paint bottles. Instead I write to you.
I've become obsessed with the cake shake. It's just like it sounds. Cake. in. a. Shake. Last week I made cupcakes just so I could make cake shakes. SINS. Right Kate?
So let's break it down. When HBF is away, I do all kinds of weird/awesome things.
First there's the 1.75 hours I spend moping. (Aw, see honey, I like you) I mope. Or I nap. Or I mope whilst napping. You get the idea. About 15 minutes in I realize I can watch all the Chopped episodes I want, which really isn't any different from any other Sunday, but feels rebellious when he's en route to Vegas, or en route to a stream.
That's my typical sans-HBF dinner. Salty La Quercia, assorted cheeses, two little artichokes, tomatoes I didn't grow myself and a scotch glass filled with lemon butter mayo. Let's remind everyone Iowa is the 12th most obese state in the union.
Last time he traveled I watched the entire first season of Orange is the New Black, got semi-food-poisoned, hung a piece of wood on the wall in such a haphazard way that it still crookedly sits above the TV staring at me from an angle and painted a chalk board panel (OH and put away all the clean clothes). I also stocked the kitchen with new plates, bought bookshelves for the ever growing library of fly fishing magazines and tried to figure out how to mount a wine rack into a shelf without the use of a drill. But also used the drill for the first time. Power tools are so awesome.
This is what the desk looks like. My nook of the house. It's messy with ribbons and markers and PKN prep time. Let's hope it all works out.
This time I baked. Ate even more artichokes. (Seriously. We have an issue.) I drank red wine in the summer, reorganized the garden (ish), considered collecting the walnuts from the front lawn and made a new friend in the sea of PO Boxes. I stayed waaaay to late watching romantic comedies on demand and searching for paper lover blogs. I ordered 5 pillow covers from etsy. I also ate poptarts. (brown sugar cinnamon. yum) I danced in the kitchen channeling the first time I saw krumping on SYTYCD. Being alone while living together is weird. Either that or I am weird alone while living together. (I vote for option A)
I painted that rug green. That's the couch that belongs to us and is not a yellow loaner. Excuse the mess around it. And the naked pillows. HBF is away.
HBF. Come home. Vegas is far less interesting than the fact that the rug you put in the living room has been painted "spring harvest green." I promise.
xo-LP