Journal from September 2004, part 1

One of my intended purposes for this blog is to serve as a repository of pieces of writing from my past that I like and want to preserve online. This post is the beginning of what will be a series. It's a journal I kept during a memorable week at the end of September, 2004. Many of you are familiar with the story but have probably not read what will follow. A few of you don't know the story at all. In any case, I hope you enjoy. If I remember correctly, the first couple posts are from either September 27 or 28, 2004, and serve as a good preamble.
David
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I was a little thrown by the concept of turning 40. I honestly didn’t obsess about it mostly because the whole idea was uncomfortable and I couldn’t cozy up to it, even when I tried, which I must admit wasn’t often. But I had given it enough thought to determine that the long-awaited and badly needed vacation that P and I had been planning had to take place at the end of September. A year ago we had rented a house just outside Kennebunkport, Maine in a village called Cape Porpoise. Very simple, very peaceful, and a haven for us and the dogs. So returning to it was a no-brainer. Last year’s vacation had been for a week following a weeklong business trip I had taken to Paris. That trip was fun, and although it was for business (I did a week of PeopleSoft training) I did have some time for myself in the evenings. I had stayed in a suburb east of the city and took the Metro downtown, walking around neighborhoods, drinking in the feel of the city and just relaxing. One night was reserved for a wonderful evening out with the members of the class I was teaching. They were from all over Europe and we had a terrific time. Still, I noticed a tinge of emptiness. The whole week, I had been alone. P wasn’t with me. So that made the vacation in Maine that much sweeter. Lots of lobster, some shopping in Freeport and other spots, and a wonderful afternoon on Wells Beach watching Cami and Harry romp around on the sand. It was heaven.

This year, truth be told, has sucked. P and I have weathered various relationship crises, she underwent another shoulder surgery, we’re seriously investigating lodging a malpractice suit against the doctor who had performed her previous shoulder procedures, and of course I hate my job. Hate hate hate. Loathe. Each day is an experience in enduring a moderately bad to truly awful time. I’ve been working intensively on getting out and finding myself greener pastures since March. I’ve come close a few times, and most recently (as in the past month) came VERY close to a terrific job that would have been incredibly ideal. My interview was great, the guy really loved me and even admitted that I was the best external candidate he had seen, but he decided to promote from within. Oh well. I was disappointed, sure, but I couldn’t argue with what he had done, either. It was a perfectly reasonable business decision, I had to agree.

So the year sucked. P and I, as I had said, didn’t have the easiest time, either. Oh, we’re fine, all things considered. But, well, we’ve gone through bouts of drifting and living parallel lives that don’t intersect enough. We NEEDED this week in Maine. And I NEEDED not to be at work the day I turned 40. P had asked me a few times what I wanted for my birthday. I told her I wanted a Hinckley (custom-made in Maine) 42 foot yacht. Ok, no dice there. I said I wanted a new job. She couldn’t do that. “Ok, you know what I want? An Omega Constellation watch.” Hey, might as well ask for something nice, right? It’s only 2 grand.

Sometime last spring the discussion ended and P said that she was working on my present. I had to make her promise me one thing: I hate surprises. Not the getting gifts kind of surprise. I love presents. The walking-in-the-door-and-a-hundred-people-yelling SURPRISE!!-kinda surprise. I don’t much like the deal in restaurants where they bring over a dessert with a candle in it and the whole staff sings happy birthday slightly off key, either. I don’t mind it a bit for other poor saps on their birthdays, I just don’t want it for me. It’s the public embarrassment thing. Hey, I can embarrass myself just fine, thankyouverymuch. I don’t need others doing it for me. I had to make P promise me she would NOT do that. She did, but she asked permission to “give me a surprise of some kind”. Ok, fine. Just not one of those. I’ll deal.

I didn’t think much about any of it again until about a month ago when P started saying things like “you’re going to love your present. I’m gonna get you something you’ll love.” I started asking “is it an Omega Constellation?” Her response was “No, but if you don’t like it you can exchange it for a Constellation”. I tried to remind her how much one of those cost. She knew perfectly well, and her offer stood. A couple GRAND? That’s a lot of money. It’s a lot of money for me, and given P’s propensity to forego extravagance (unlike me) it’s a helluva lot more for her. She meant it. After that, I couldn’t ask much else. I didn’t want to play guessing games, anyway. I was sure it would be something nice. Season tickets for the Red Sox for 2005? I didn’t know.

I was content to wait and find out. After all, we’d be in Maine. Whatever it was, I’d like it just fine. And I’d be with the woman I love and my babies. And eating lobster. It’s all good.