I’m currently making lists and mentally preparing for my vacation. On Saturday, DD and I leave for 7 uninterrupted days of vacation bliss. While I’m nervous at the prospect of this much together time (the most we’ve spent since we started dating), I’m insanely excited. Not having work prevent us from seeing one another? Awesome. Not having a million different events/parties/get-togethers to run to, giving us time to just spend time alone? Lovely. Daunting, but lovely.
For a first vacation, we picked D.C. I lobbied relatively hard for a long weekend in the Caribbean, but he couldn’t go until April and why would I bother to go to the Caribbean in April when it’s finally getting warm in the D? We settled on D.C. since I lived there many moons ago and hence have a love affair with city, and that DD’s never been there. Of course it sealed the deal for him when he realized he could take in two MLB ballparks. (Hey, I never said there wasn’t a little gentle conning involved in getting him to agree to a 7 day vacation after only 9 months together.)
So, in preparation, I’m moving money into my checking account, making the packing list, and thinking of all the things I have to do before I leave (get shoes from shoe guy, hit ATM, do a bajillion loads of laundry, pick up dry cleaning, etc. etc. etc.)
This is the part of traveling that I’m not a fan of. As much as I love a good list, I’m always afraid I’ll forget something and always overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I have to get done. Then, since I’m so low-maintenance, I tend to pack minimally and avoid make-up and general hair care so I end up looking like a crazy, unkempt person in every photo. This time, I’m really going to try to make a better effort to, like, be a girl and at least look presentable every day.
Then there’s the whole 7 uninterrupted days thing. I know it sounds crazy, but I am nervous DD and I won’t get along. That we’ll have a fight (or five). We have no idea how the other person travels, no idea what the other person wants to do, and completely different budgets. His idea of a night out on vacation is a fabulous restaurant, possibly accompanied by a bottle of wine, and followed by a long night at the bar. My idea of a night out is a semi-fabulous restaurant, water with dinner, and 1 or 2 cheap beers at the bar. Granted, DD’s chivalry dictates he will pick up the majority of the tab, but that doesn’t stop me about feeling bad about our different income brackets and my inability to be an equal-opportunity payer. Usually, it’s a guilt I can bear because it’s once a week or every couple weeks…not every single day.
Finally, there’s the simple issue of space. He’s very independent and very friend-oriented. He’s totally fine seeing me once or twice a week and going about our lives the rest of the time because he’s still living the college frat boy lifestyle of having a roommate, hitting the bars, and just enjoying “guy time”. On the other hand, I like to be around him all the time and can get a little clingy (yes, I said it!). But even after a few days, I need my space. Just ask Angela, who spent 10 days in a foreign country with me. I get a little snippy if I don’t get some alone time.
I’m hopeful that everything will be fine. He said it will be a good test to see if we truly are compatible. I replied that I don’t really want to be tested on my vacation. But I suppose that is what it is. If we are ever going to move forward to a marriage in 20 years when he’s ready to settle down, I guess I better make sure he’s the kind of guy I want to marry. And even though I think he is, I suppose spending some extended time together is a needed test of that theory.
Don’t worry, I’m going to attempt to blog all the gory details fit for a public forum…so if we kill each other by the end of the trip, you’ll be the first to know where I hid the body.
One last, slightly amusing note. Every time my mother finds out I’m spending the night with DD, she ends our conversation with “Behave Yourself.” Honestly, I don’t even know what it means and refuse to ask because we just don’t talk about sex. We talk around sex, but not about it. So I just reply “I always do” even though everyone else knows I’m no virgin Mary. But denial is an excellent coping mechanism in my family, so whatever works for her. Anyway, today when I left her house, she gave her usual my-daughter’s-spending-several-nights-with-a-man response and I gave my usual innocent daughter response. What she doesn’t know is last Saturday night I dropped nearly $100 at a Pure Romance party — and that those items are going directly in my suitcase.
I’m totally behaving myself, don’t you think?