Dichroic Reflections

bleah

Not one of the great weekends, I don't think. Let alone one of the great birthday weekends.

Thursday: Rudder had a regatta meeting; we debated whether he should stay home, but I ended up telling him to go (because it was the first meeting on planning this particular regatta) while I went for a massage, which was half price courtesy of his birthday gift. (I get one free one a month for 3 months plus member rates the rest of the time.) He got home around 8:30, which wasn't particularly helpful since we were both planning on rowing Friday morning, with all its incumbent 4AM alarm times.

Friday: Rowing was OK. Work was as usual. The chiropractor was a little disappointing since he didn't seem to recall that he'd said the previous time we'd be teaching me more exercises. (I kep quiet to see if he would remember.) I think I may go today, then quit. They did manage to mostly fix the hip joint problem I was having, and I don't see that we're doing anything to work on the crooked spine issue.

After that, Rudder and I went to dinner. This was supposed to be my birthday dinner, until he headed the wrong way, toward the new fondue restaurant instead of the fondue restaurant I'd been wanting to try and whose menu I had looked up online and shown him. He made it clear that he was too tired to go to the restaurant I wanted (maybe 3 miles further away). So we spent the rest of dinner (which was OK but not great) discussing whether that would be my official birthday dinner or not. I think we decided on not, but made no plans on what would be. I can't think of a more depressingly pointless dinner conversation, on further reflection. (Actually, I suppose I can. But this one was depressing and pointless, anyway.) Also, my allerigies or whatever weren't doing wonder for my ability to taste anything.

Saturday: slept in a little, went to the lake, did a little work on my boat, and had a nice breakfast/lunch with some of the characters we did last fall's marathon race with, so that was fun. However, since Friday afternoon, I'd been feeling ill, and the chicken soup I had Saturday at the restaurant didn't cure it. (Even though it had both matzo balls *and* kreplach. My illusions are destroyed.) I spent the afternoon resting and trying to figure out whether I had allergies or a cold. At 5 or so we went out to find sunset light and wil;dflowers, but what was supposed to be a half-hour drive to a state park ended up taking more like an hour and a half, due to unposted highway closures and roadwork. We did get about fifteen minutes of decent light at the park, though some of the flowers were closing for the night. Goign home took almost as long as getting there, due to trying to avoid the closed highway, and by the time we got home three and a half hours later, Rudder (who was driving) was not a happy man.

Sunday: The plane I was supposed to fly in Sunday morning had a small tangle with a lightpole, so they called Saturday to say they could put me in another plane on Sunday afternoon. An hour before the flight my instructor called to say we couldn't do an instrument cross country in it, because the GPS database was out of date. We could still fly it, but couldn't file as instrument so couldn't get the practice I needed at talking to control. Because the instructor and I both had colds or allergies we decided to just fly locally instead of doing the cross-country I had planned, which turned out to be a wise choice. By the time we finally landed for the last time, I could hardly hear. (I hadn't thought my ears were clogged or I wouldn't have flown at all, but apparently I was wrong.) Apparently I have a geas on me relating to cross-country flights. Every planned one so far has had to be cancelled due to weather or other factors.

Monday: Rudder emailed to say he'd booked flights to Edmonton in July. I had talked about possibly not going or going for only part of the time, since I'm not racing, but hadn't decided. He went ahead and booked flight for only himself and She-Hulk without asking me. Since it's still FOUR months off, I had expected to have some time decide - he said he hadn't planned to book this early either "but flights were cheap". Then he tried to tell me I had plenty of time to decide and the flights wouldn't fill up and wouldn't necessarily get more expensive, which of course would be a lot more convincing if he hadn't booked his own right away. Without asking if I wanted one. (I think She-Hulk did the booking, actually, but I'm sure she asked him whether I would need a ticket.) That's rectified now, and I think he understands why I might have been a little upset. I think.

On the plus side, I finished a sock and started another. Yee-f*ing-ha.

Maybe all my good luck's going to Jen. I'd like to think it's off doing something useful like that - she seems to have more freak bad luck than almost anyone else I know and it would be awfully nice if none of that happens to her while she's off meeting Li. A minorly bad few days here seem like a small price.

Posted by dichroic at March 14, 2005 12:28 PM