On toilets, Spain and A
I'm coming to the conclusion that men cannot flush toilets. My ex never seemed capable of it and I can only roll my eyes when I walk into the bathroom and find that I need to flush before I can sit. A's normally pretty good but on the occasions he's not...who knew the sloppy girl was so anal.
Barcelona is very beautiful but the trip is different from what I expected. Hemingway loved Spain and I thought I would too. I loved Mexico, I wanted to live in DR and Puerto Rico and I've seen more beauty in one day then I could hope to see in a lifetime, but....I was homesick today, if you can believe it.
New Yorkers are known for attitude. It's their thing. EVERYbody wants to be a New Yorker at some point. Who doesn't want to say, 'You messin' wit me?' But in spite of the rep, I haven't known too many New Yorkers to be rude. A and I had a cabbie cuss us out when A innocently asked why the cabbie was charging us more than the fare shown on the meter. And a passerby apologized for him, saying, 'He's not the real New York.'
And Paris, everyone loves to badmouth Paris. Virtually everyone I talk to complains that they were treated rudely in Paris. Granted, I visited Paris (and Bordeaux and Orleans) back in the late '90's. But in situations where I felt that my ex and I deserved to be treated rudely (he would ask bars and restaurants to make change for us, despite the fact that we weren't paying customers, in English, no less), we were treated with the utmost courtesy.
Here, our hotel is impeccable: Hotel Prestige off Passeje Grande; I've seen Gaudi and Gehry, a Friedlander exhibit (more culture than I can shake a stick at), Poble Sec is like a cross between New York ( shops just like off the Stuyvesant corridor) and alleyways and street signs like Paris and what's not to like about the coffee and ham sandwiches. But the people leave me cold. They are easily flustered. I'm the first to admit, my Spanish needs work. But I begin every sentence with Please and Excuse Me. And most people smile and they mentally cuss me out assuredly, but they indulge me.
Today, people were rude to us 3 times. For lunch, our waiter made very clear that we were a nuisance since we arrived as the kitchen closed @2:30p.m. A museum counter clerk (a woman, the betrayal) was a flaming C to us. I think A was pretty unhappy with me, because I told him we were leaving. All he wanted was a coffee and I wanted an OJ. We waited 10 minutes for our turn and the minute A began to order coffee, she showed her exasperation. I asked for a refresca and pointed to the OJ and she would have none of it. She sneered, rolled her eyes and if there was ever a woman that I wanted to trample (the museum cafe for cryin' out loud), it was her. I asked A to walk with me and we were out of there. And the poor hotel clerk at the front desk: he'd been wonderful the night before, recommending the Olympic boulevard for a nice walk after dark. Murphy's Law, the room keys didn't work upon our return, today. A tried them. The clerk reswiped them and when I brought them back, the red light was still blinking for both cards. And while the clerk was far more restrained than his counterparts, he did ask, did we understand how to insert the key? At least in the U.S., the customer is always right.
And A. I think he's an incredibly lucky person who doesn't aways realize his luck. I think he's pretty cavalier about the wrecks that he's walked away from. Even though I know he's unhappy about his divorce (who is, really), he's very lucky that he's on speaking terms with the ex. I'll never downplay what he's been through, but it's a marvel that he's relatively intact. And I love his zest for life.
When we talk about marriage, it's nice. He's the one for me and he knows that. But change will always scare me, even a little bit and it's hard to believe that he wouldn't view me as a ball and chain, at some point. If we stay unmarried, he can never accuse me of that (holding him back). He can give me a hard time over getting pregnant but that's the worst of it. G and Jack could always find fault with me but kids always find fault their parents anyway and it's not their call. Being married doesn't mean you stay married.
Part of the problem is, I used to keep lists. Lists of all the happily married people. Problem is, when your marriage fails, everyone feels compelled to share their stories. My list has grown dramatically shorter. The only time I wanted A to lie to me, I asked him if it could happen to us. And I wanted the obligatory no. Or I hope not. Instead I got the honest answer: it happens. I know. I know it happens. But I can't survive that. Not again. I was engaged before I was married, to someone else. He freaked and picked fights like crazy (after almost 2 years of happiness). And I told him, if you wanted out, you could have just said so. Months later, he said he made a mistake and I told him, firmly, with a smile, yes he did. Then came the ex, because my I bowed to my parents' anxieties of two unmarried girls (the shame), approaching 30. And now, it's day by day. Jack and G will come 1st and after that, we'll figure it out. The only tough part is I don't have a glib answer for nosy people who ask, are we married, but I'm working on it.
Barcelona is very beautiful but the trip is different from what I expected. Hemingway loved Spain and I thought I would too. I loved Mexico, I wanted to live in DR and Puerto Rico and I've seen more beauty in one day then I could hope to see in a lifetime, but....I was homesick today, if you can believe it.
New Yorkers are known for attitude. It's their thing. EVERYbody wants to be a New Yorker at some point. Who doesn't want to say, 'You messin' wit me?' But in spite of the rep, I haven't known too many New Yorkers to be rude. A and I had a cabbie cuss us out when A innocently asked why the cabbie was charging us more than the fare shown on the meter. And a passerby apologized for him, saying, 'He's not the real New York.'
And Paris, everyone loves to badmouth Paris. Virtually everyone I talk to complains that they were treated rudely in Paris. Granted, I visited Paris (and Bordeaux and Orleans) back in the late '90's. But in situations where I felt that my ex and I deserved to be treated rudely (he would ask bars and restaurants to make change for us, despite the fact that we weren't paying customers, in English, no less), we were treated with the utmost courtesy.
Here, our hotel is impeccable: Hotel Prestige off Passeje Grande; I've seen Gaudi and Gehry, a Friedlander exhibit (more culture than I can shake a stick at), Poble Sec is like a cross between New York ( shops just like off the Stuyvesant corridor) and alleyways and street signs like Paris and what's not to like about the coffee and ham sandwiches. But the people leave me cold. They are easily flustered. I'm the first to admit, my Spanish needs work. But I begin every sentence with Please and Excuse Me. And most people smile and they mentally cuss me out assuredly, but they indulge me.
Today, people were rude to us 3 times. For lunch, our waiter made very clear that we were a nuisance since we arrived as the kitchen closed @2:30p.m. A museum counter clerk (a woman, the betrayal) was a flaming C to us. I think A was pretty unhappy with me, because I told him we were leaving. All he wanted was a coffee and I wanted an OJ. We waited 10 minutes for our turn and the minute A began to order coffee, she showed her exasperation. I asked for a refresca and pointed to the OJ and she would have none of it. She sneered, rolled her eyes and if there was ever a woman that I wanted to trample (the museum cafe for cryin' out loud), it was her. I asked A to walk with me and we were out of there. And the poor hotel clerk at the front desk: he'd been wonderful the night before, recommending the Olympic boulevard for a nice walk after dark. Murphy's Law, the room keys didn't work upon our return, today. A tried them. The clerk reswiped them and when I brought them back, the red light was still blinking for both cards. And while the clerk was far more restrained than his counterparts, he did ask, did we understand how to insert the key? At least in the U.S., the customer is always right.
And A. I think he's an incredibly lucky person who doesn't aways realize his luck. I think he's pretty cavalier about the wrecks that he's walked away from. Even though I know he's unhappy about his divorce (who is, really), he's very lucky that he's on speaking terms with the ex. I'll never downplay what he's been through, but it's a marvel that he's relatively intact. And I love his zest for life.
When we talk about marriage, it's nice. He's the one for me and he knows that. But change will always scare me, even a little bit and it's hard to believe that he wouldn't view me as a ball and chain, at some point. If we stay unmarried, he can never accuse me of that (holding him back). He can give me a hard time over getting pregnant but that's the worst of it. G and Jack could always find fault with me but kids always find fault their parents anyway and it's not their call. Being married doesn't mean you stay married.
Part of the problem is, I used to keep lists. Lists of all the happily married people. Problem is, when your marriage fails, everyone feels compelled to share their stories. My list has grown dramatically shorter. The only time I wanted A to lie to me, I asked him if it could happen to us. And I wanted the obligatory no. Or I hope not. Instead I got the honest answer: it happens. I know. I know it happens. But I can't survive that. Not again. I was engaged before I was married, to someone else. He freaked and picked fights like crazy (after almost 2 years of happiness). And I told him, if you wanted out, you could have just said so. Months later, he said he made a mistake and I told him, firmly, with a smile, yes he did. Then came the ex, because my I bowed to my parents' anxieties of two unmarried girls (the shame), approaching 30. And now, it's day by day. Jack and G will come 1st and after that, we'll figure it out. The only tough part is I don't have a glib answer for nosy people who ask, are we married, but I'm working on it.
posted by Michelle at 9:45 PM
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