Rolling With My Homey

This weekend, Cory and I had 24 blessed, childless hours.

I'm a big fan. I'm a real big fan.

There is something about connecting alone that cannot be precisely replicated in the presence of small people requiring assistance with tasks such as mealtime, bathtime, bedtime, everytime, anytime, and wiping.

There is much to be said for tending only to one's own needs, even if just for one brightly lit moment in time.

We didn't take a single picture, but being creatures of habit, our archives are fully able to pinch-hit.

As with most of our dates, this one began with Mexican food.

I wore this hat.

We thought we would split a mango margarita, but it arrived looking like a goblet of nacho cheese, so Cory had it all to himself. In lieu of a date-night beverage, I hooked up an IV to the salsa bowl and teetered out of the joint in a self-imposed tomato stupor.

From there we found ourselves splitting up for a half hour. One of us found a TJ Maxx. The other found a camera store, serendipitously right next door. The together-but-not date. I don't recommend this arrangement for the entire date, but history has taught me that racks of tank tops and Cory do not mix.

Having had less than three hours of sleep the night before, I fell asleep not once, but twice on the way to the movie. Both times Cory jolted me awake with what seemed at the time like very nonsensical questions. I felt like I was back in study hall, trying my best to look like I hadn't been sleeping with my face smooshed into my physics book when the bell rang.

The Social Network lived up to the hype in a big way. I loved every thing about it, and as my friend Holly said it best, it made our college years look like Vacation Bible School.

Back at the hotel, we were asleep by midnight (minus the kid, of course).

Scratch that. One of us was asleep by midnight. The other was saying things like, "Hey Honey - why do you think they titled the movie 'The Social Network'? Do you think it was a legal thing?" and "Did you think that Stanford girl was sort of strange looking?" and "Why do you think they went to such great pains to make ______ appear crazy?"

After three unanswered questions, I took a hint and drifted off into the blissful sleep that only comes when you know you will not be stripping bloody-nose sheets at 3 AM or making a bed on the couch for "I got a bad dweam" boy at 4 AM.

I dreamed that we were vacationing in Nassau, Bahamas. I have never been there, discussed being there, or even hoped to go there, so I have no idea where such specificity came from, but I can tell you this - It was dreamy.

We did not get out of bed until 10:30 the following morning.

Lunch was bowls of soup and that salad. You know the one.

Then the outlet mall, where I spent an entire hour in one store and lingered up by the cash register just to hear the totals racking up for the ladies with the high heeled boots and high maintenance hair.

I walked away with my new favorite sweater - dove grey, adequately gramps-ish and most importantly? On clearance.

Another stop at a camera store gave me a chance to sit in a quiet car and read.

It was a perfect day. We pretended that we're going to do this once a month, and even though we both knew it wasn't true, there's no one else I would rather dream big with.