lunch envy

George and I spent our day off together.

Out since noon, it's not until 2pm that we locate a lunch spot, a Mediterranean place whose take-out we've had the good fortune of experiencing in the past. We peruse the menu and order. While we munch on pita accompanied by a parsley-sesame seed-olive oil-tomato-onion concoction and eagerly await our lunches, George glances over at a couple sitting two tables away. They've just been served their food. The man has before him a plateful of rice pilaf and lamb chops smothered in some delicious-looking sauce. They begin to eat.

"The meat is falling right off the bone," George observes. He demonstrates with his own fork (and no knife, mind you!) just how effortlessly the man is picking at his chop- yet the invisble meat... well, falls right off the bone.

Now for those who know George and his love of good food, this comment is not at all unusual. It did not strike me as unusual. But somehow, hearing him comment about the condition of someone else's lamb chops struck me as funny and endearing. Even more endearing as I caught him once or twice averting his eyes from the lamb chops, all the while devouring his own plate of delicious-looking stewed beef and rice pilaf. Lunch envy indeed.

the Man and his Bridezilla

George has been extremely supportive of me from Day One of this whole wedding planning process. Not only has he provided an ear and a shoulder, he's also taken on a lot of responsibilities, calling locations and potential photographers, working on the guest list with me, given his input on logistics and details.

But truth be told, we have had more than our usual share of arguments over planning this whole affair. And mostly because of me. I've gone from elated to stressed to optimistic to "can't we just elope" with nothing in between. And he's been on that emotional roller coaster right next to me.

This last argument, frustrated and upset, he told me that he was extracting himself from the wedding planning process and that I just needed to tell him when and where to show up. This statement continued on into a heated email exchange. How did things end ten emails later, you ask? I apologized. He apologized. For he was able to break through my chronic meltdown mode and remind me that, no matter what the wedding crisis of the moment, the event itself is only one day to celebrate what is most important- the rest of our lives together.

And yes, this resolution means that he's staying involved in the planning process.