The anniversary trip went off…well, better than expected but not without hitches. For God’s sake, this is my life; if I did have an uneventful weekend I think I’d die of shock. I can say that for 75% of the time we had an exceptional time. 15% of the remainding time we had a good time. 5% of the last remaining time was alright. 5% was bad…really bad.
I think it was an omen that the area of town where my family and I stayed when we were there thirteen years ago was completely razed and built again, save a few minor things. It was like that part of the city made a fresh start, so maybe I could too. For the first time in a long time, when we were on the Maid of the Mist, I closed my eyes and just let the wind and water fly in my face and absorb into my skin and my mind. It was one of those few moments where you realize that things will be okay. Or at least you fool yourself into thinking that things will be okay. And really, isn’t that just as good?
The night of our actual anniversary was interesting. We had reservations at one place, but we soon realized that while the view might be good, the food was likely to suck. So we hopped in the car and drove somewhere else to have a great dinner and a great bottle of wine. I should have known the wine would be too much for the both of us.
After dinner we arrived at an outdoor bar where there was karaoke. For anyone who knows me, they know that karaoke is one of my favorite things in the whole world. The next best thing to being a rock star, is being buzzed and pretending to be one. Whether it was the many drinks I had (seriously, don’t ask), or whether I was just on that night, I was a total hit. I was even getting requests from the 19 year old drunk kids from across the border in the U.S. (For the record, the selection was not great and I did “Like a Virgin,” “Natural Woman,” “Proud Mary,” and “Golddigger.” Yes, I can sing and rap…) In fact, that’s me performing my much loved rendition of “Like a Virgin” above. I had to represent the D (Madge and Aretha) and full figured women (Aretha).
I was on top of the world and on a buzz. At first I thought it was a joke, but these people genuinely liked me. After a week of being beaten down by life and work, I needed that release–standing on a stage, belting out some of my favorite tunes, and just being embraced. Hell, even TheMister started dancing a little towards the end. That’s a total rarity.
But then reality set in. The Mister was, in fact, wasted. For him, wine before Canadian beer is a deadly combination. We walked back to the hotel, me trying to get him to stand up straight and he, trying to kill my well-deserved buzz. He kept asking me to take him to the hospital. I refused…he was drunk, not sick. He continued these loud requests until we were in the room and even for a period of time thereafter, where upon I had my most rockstar moment of the night–while The Mister was passed out on the floor and things were strewn about, the hotel management knocked on the door telling us that next time it would be the police. The Mister eventually regurgitated his expensive dinner and I finally was able to go to bed. In the morning we were both hung over and The Mister remembered nothing of the requests for the hospital or the hotel management. At least he cleaned up his mess in the bathroom on his own.
Meanwhile, back in the mitten, Mom and Dad were watching Rocky the Dog on his first overnight stay without us. Dropping him off before we left was hard. I told The Mister I didn’t know if we were going to be able to have kids because leaving the dog at my parents was hard enough. Poor Rocky was surrounded by Amy the Hound–a puppy of about six months or so. Amy has more energy than a nuclear powerplant and you can’t see her when she’s moving, let alone catch her. Rocky is an easy going, older gentleman. I was worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle her.
Before we left though, it became abundantly clear–Rocky might not have been young or fast, but he was top dog. Amy had already rolled over once to show her submission and Rocky barked at her in response. According to Mom and Dad, the dominance continued, amidst Amy’s constant pestering, all weekend. Rocky stood his ground and when Amy got too tough, he taught her that experience has a little bit on age.
When we picked Rocky up on Monday, we drove home in near silence. The dog was asleep and The Mister and I were hung over (and in my case majorly PMSing in addition). When we got home, Rocky picked a spot and laid there not moving for probably 12 hours.
I guess it turns out that every dog has his day. Rocky was top dog over Amy and I was top dog at kareoke. But in the end, being on top only lasts for so long. Sometimes you need someone to knock on the door and remind you that you’re a bit out of control to take a break and rest awhile.
I’m still waiting for my rest. Rocky, on the other hand, is ready for another battle of wits and stamina. And maybe a few more of Grandma’s many rawhide treats.