(Hyacinth) Bucket List

 

"Keeping Up Appearances" is a British comedy about a middle class woman, Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced by her as 'Bouquet'), who yearns for a higher social status and seizes every opportunity to climb the social ladder, usually with a lot of mishaps along the way. In honor of her, this is my Bucket List of classy things I'd like to do.

1. Have dinner at Noma in Denmark.
2. Fly first class to get there.
3. Drink tea at Makbari Tea Plantation in Darjeeling, India.
4. Enter a cat in the Supreme Championship show.
5. See an opera at Teatro Massimo in Palermo.
6. Stay at a penthouse suite in Geneva.
7. Have a kobe beef barbecue.
8 Go on a champagne hot air balloon trip in France.
9. Have lunch at Thornbury Castle.
10. Drink wine recovered from a sunken ship.

Ah, who I am kidding? I feel guilty if I spend more than $20 on a meal....but it was fun to think about.

The Ultimate Pinky Swear

"On whom should I lean, if not on you? My wary mind turns for refreshment to the thought of you
as a dusty traveller might sink onto a soft and grassy bank. "  --Gustave Flaubert

We've done everything backwards. Moved in together before we were even dating. Moved to another country together before we were even serious. Went to many a honeymoon destination before we were even engaged. It went something like this:

Met in Istanbul.

One of the first photos of us. Not sure how much we really liked each other at this stage.

Got to know each other in Poland. 

He brought me to my first castle!!

Got serious in China.

Got engaged in Malaysia. Planned  a wedding in Thailand. 

And if all goes as planned, I will be able to say after the summer next year, that we got married in Ireland.

People's lives are  comprised of a series of "Before and After's". Before I went to college and After. Before I had children and After. Before my loved one died and After. Until I met S, my biggest Before and Afters were losing my Dad and moving abroad. For years, I suffered the culture shock and explored the unknown completely alone. I became so comfortable and secure in my independence that I assumed I wouldn't have an "Eat Pray Love" kind of ending to my story. But now it's difficult at times to even remember the Before S.

Actually, I'd always been secretly resigned to never getting married, having never seen a happy one in action on a daily basis. While other girls were fantasizing about walking down flower strewn aisles in princess dresses, I just wanted to be frolicking on a prairie like Laura Ingalls.
 

But there I was in a cheap hostel in Penang, Malaysia, the French guys next door soundly sleeping after a long night session on the bongos, when S asked. And it seemed the most natural, logical, and exciting thing to say, "Yeah, let's."

Another thing I never figured was that being engaged would feel different than "having a boyfriend". I find myself being more protective of and nurturing in this relationship. Even though I know divorce is always an option, and I can leave anytime, I'm invested as if they're not options. I guess it's akin to how a long time renter feels when deciding to buy a house, no?

Protective and nurturing require a bit of selflessness and work. A marriage is a full on English garden, not some Menard's houseplant. I've had to accept that there can be more than one way to hang clothes and wash dishes, that it's polite to listen to synopses of stories involving things about which I'm completely clueless (football, Boardwalk Empire), that it's not all about me anymore.

Learning pitch & putt wasn't as horrible as I expected

Because all that work yields some lovely stuff. If I listen, then later, I have someone to listen to my ramblings. If I cook a nice meal, someone will clean it up after, albeit in a different way than I would have. If I'm supportive, kind, and affectionate, I get the same in return. Not to mention the great stuff like hugs, long talks, laughter, capers, journeys to the unknown. And the best, having one person who knows you completely and still likes you anyway and being that person for another. I know it sounds crazy, self-absorbed, and a wee bit naive, but it's all been a revelation.

We may not have the altruism of George and Mary Bailey, the youthful gaiety of Jack and Rose, the strategic minds of Anthony and Cleopatra, or the musical prowess of Simba and Nala. We don't complete each other. But I can honestly say, we completely love each other.

 

 

 

A Difficult Confession

I'm in a relationship that's gone as stale as a keg of Busch Lite. As predictable as a Hollywood disaster movie. What once filled me with the exhilaration of a rocket lit sky, is now a mere pile of yesterday's firecracker rubbish.

Everyday I'm smothered and nearly suffocated by the same constant warmth, despite my best efforts at evasion. Where once I saw intrigue and individuality, now I only see unilateral messiness, inefficiency, and a lack of common sense.

I've fallen out of love. Plain and simple. Not because I was cheated, abused, neglected, or wronged in any way. I. just. got. bored. So bored I've invented and taught our cat an elaborate chase game. So bored I actually read bible verses and song lyrics people post as facebook status updates. So bored I literally watch the paint dry on my nails.

I love you Songkhla; I'm just not in love with you. And it's not you. It's me. Well maybe it's a little bit you. The same unrelentless 100 degree days, the same rubbish strewn beaches, the same three or four good restaurants. The same conversations. Same, same!! as they say here in Thailand. I could map the rut my Sketchers have made in this town.

I'm not married to Songkhla, but I am contractually obligated for several more months. So as with any other contractually obligating relationship, I need to "work on it". Songkhla is still the same quaint little seaside town it was a few months ago. I've allowed myself to get in this funk. Maybe because it's the holiday season and I want to be bundled up in front of a fire wearing a reindeer sweater. Maybe because I'm getting anxious to start the next chapter of my life as Mrs. Clarke.

In the meantime, I need to write more, try new recipes, go to new places in town, watch more sunrises, sit on more benches, let anger go more easily, swim in the sea more often, have coffee with friends instead of beer, write longer emails, talk more to my colleagues and students, and maybe just suck it up and stop whining already.