breathe in, laugh out

JR finally got back from Amsterdam after his 2-week work trip on Friday evening.  He asked me to go out with him that night, because he would be out-of-town Saturday and Sunday, but I already had plans with friends, so I told him he was welcome to join.

I don’t know how he did it, with a 9-hour time difference from Amsterdam to California, but he got off the plane, showered, and actually made it out.  And he was pretty fun too.  He’s the whitest of white boys, Irish as they come, but thinks he has dance moves.  No.

The night was fun.  He has been non-stop talking about Lobster Taco Night at some joint ’round here on Wednesday nights, so I guess we made tentative plans to go tonight.  I don’t consider things plans unless they’re set in stone, and even though he reminded me yesterday, there has been no time or location set, so as far as I’m concerned, I still don’t have plans tonight.

As far as his job goes, he explained he usually has about two weeks here in San Diego, then two weeks away, which he claims is ruining his life and is the reason he’s single.  That’s yet to be seen; I’m sure there are plenty of other reasons he’s single.  So I was thinking over the next two weeks when he’s home, I’ll probably see him a couple of times, figure out if it’s worth continuing to get to know each other.  But doesn’t seem it’s going to go that way… he texted me yesterday with a couple of curse words followed by:  “I just found out I need to go back to the Netherlands on Sunday for another two weeks, then straight to Dallas for 2 days when I get back.”

Wait WHAT?!  This is just getting obnoxious.  He’s pissed and ready to quit, but due to some other details, he’s biting his tongue and waiting until after September 30th.  I told him he should just move to Amsterdam (was that rude?).  He said they’ve been trying to get him there, and even told him they’ll have a 3-series convertible waiting for him if he goes for good (whatever that is).

I feel like he should just wait until he starts a more normal job before he tries to date for real.  He’s made it clear he wants a serious relationship, and is at the point in his life where he is ready to settle down, but I don’t know how he expects to get to know someone when his job requires like 90% travel.  I guess that’s for him to figure out.  Not me.

So anyway…

Monday night I’m sitting on the couch with my roommate V…. our couch is located 10 blocks from the Pacific Ocean.  I’m going through my work calendar and complaining….

“Ugh, I have to go to Rancho Mirage tomorrow… that’s like 3 hours away….”

V goes… “Oh… where is that?  West?”

I think for a few seconds longer than I should have, look at her a little funny and say…. “No… East.”

“Oh… yeah… I guess that woulda meant it was in the ocean.”

I kind of just wish I had a recorder on whenever V is around… she definitely keeps me laughing (and scratching my head).

So I had A LOOTTTTTT of flippin’ time in the car yesterday.  This is time I use productively to sing and dance and make up fake scenarios in my head with a British accent.  I drove 3 hours just to be a caterer, carry pizzas and salad through the parking lot in 116 degree heat (this is not an exaggeration; I was in the desert), and then wait TWO HOURS to speak with a doctor who gave me TWO MINUTES of his time.  And I had to be nice to people the entire time.

I make a couple of more stops in the desert before I decide its time to start the drive home.  Wouldn’t ya know it?  I get on the freeway and after a couple of miles, traffic STOPS.  Why is traffic STOPPED in the middle of no where?  Oh probably because it drizzled for about 30 seconds and the desert folk got freaked out and ran into a pole.  So I start noticing people in front of me getting in the shoulder of the road and BACKING UP…. they’re all backing up onto the oncoming ramp.  I’m confused.  More and more people start doing this from further ahead.  I’m just approaching the end of the ramp and wondering if I should do it too.  People in this state are SO WEIRD.

I opened my window to try to ask someone why we were all backing up to go the wrong way onto a one way ramp, but he didn’t stop to answer me, so I figured, ok, well if everyone else is doing it, I’ll do it too.

After I got off, I didn’t know where I was going.  There were just mountains and sand everywhere.  I started following a couple of cars down a narrow road, and after about a half a mile, I reached the end of the road, which was a patch of sand with a dead-end sign.  If it were any darker, I would have thought I was going to be murdered.  I was literally in the middle of the desert.

I turned around and got on another road… which eventually lead back onto the non-moving freeway.  And I was still 2 hours and 47 minutes from home.  F…M…L….

I had all intentions of joining a hot yoga studio this week.   In recent weeks my exercise has consisted of:

-Riding my bike to the beach

-Digging a hole for my butt to fit into at the beach

-Lifting a pint of beer from the bar to my mouth

By this point of the evening, there was no way I was getting back in time for a yoga class, and between the traffic and being nice to people I didn’t feel like being nice to all day, I was much less interested in stretching and breathing as I was interested in kicking and punching… so I sought out the closest LA Fitness with a kickboxing class, and hauled ass to make it in time.

I pulled my usual quick-change act in the car in order to save time in the locker room, and was fortunate to get an instructor who encouraged YELLING while kicking and punching.  Perfect.

I left in a much better mood and only had an hour and 45 minutes left to drive.

Thank goodness my day is contained in San Diego today… don’t think I could handle a back-to-back desert day.  DesSert… maybe… mmmm…. dessert.

Tata for now…

xoxo Gossip Girl