If My Life Were a Julia Roberts Movie, I’d Probably Be a Hooker
Posted by Moose on June 14th, 2007. Filed under: Travel.People tend to assume there’s something between “moving in together” and “having kids.” People like my mother. When we mentioned that maybe children were on the horizon, in what was the most unexciting, non-announcement ever: “Hey! We’re thinking about kids! But not right away! So the earliest you might have a grandchild is, like, fall of 2008!”, my mom made several valiant attempts at cheerleading legitimacy. “So. You’re doing something first, right?”
Mom, I would like to say that I admire you for giving up after only two tries. Few mothers would have the self-control to abandon this topic.
When friends found out that we were going to Italy, I got similar inquiries with a high quotient of italics. “So. Is something going to be happening while you’re there?”
“Like what?” I ask, with an evil and hopefully convincing innocence.
“Something with a ring?”
I think that was the point where I laughed. I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing with you. And your silent laughter.
I really do appreciate the general assumption that we’re normal. Part of me would even like to be normal. The part of me that doesn’t cringe at the subliminal fingernails-down-a-blackboard feeling in my spine when I think about walking down an aisle in a veil while everyone looks at me. I don’t really like people looking at me. This is why I’m not always good in groups. I don’t want to tell a story if you’re all paying attention. But I’d be happy to tell it if you’d turn away and talk amongst yourselves.
I’m straying from my point. My thoughts on weddings and marriage are generally quite favorable, but deserve a post of their own. A long post. Suffice it to say, we aren’t normal.
Were we proposal type people, say the Beach on Hawaii Proposal or Moonlit Garden Walk Proposal types, the Amalfi Coast would have been perfect. Cinematic even. But any proposal in my life is far more likely to happen over a greasy slice of pizza at Chuck E. Cheese. Say, on our kid’s fifth birthday with twins on the way. And would probably come from me and contain words like “taxes more difficult”, “but” and “fewer conversion attempts from Midwestern tourists when I’m eight months pregnant and not wearing a ring.” Hey, look! I am a traditionalist!*
So this?
Completely inappropriate. Do you see any greasy pizza? Precisely.
My pictures of the gardens outside our hotel on the Amalfi Coast utterly fail to illustrate the sweeping ocean views, the roses, the statuary and the general ambiance. (I can, however, show you the bugs.) But take my word for it, there was ambiance–right down to a moonlit walk in the garden with fireflies. (I’d never seen a firefly outside a Disney movie. It was a big moment for me.) We even ended up on this balcony under the stars.
If my life were a Julia Roberts movie, this picture would have a different story attached. Maybe with rhyming couplets dedicated to my eyebrows and the brandishing of a large diamond I would lose three weeks later. Instead, I’m pretty sure we discussed shoving the statuary busts over the cliff just to watch them explode when they hit the ground. (We didn’t do it.)
So, yeah. That’s the long version of the “no proposal” answer for those who care. Everyone else, go check out that picture of the bug again. Cool, huh?
We didn’t tip any of those plaster statues off the cliff-side balcony, but there was quite a bit of disrespectful banter over this hapless bust of Caesar.
Pronto? Sono Julius! (That’s how Italians answer their phone. HI-larious. Because Caesar never had a phone. Get it? No? Maybe it’s only funny after three strawberry daquiris. Go have three drinks and report back.)
Our hotel in Ravello was the splurge of the trip, and it was beautiful but a little alarming. There were a lot of people just hanging around, waiting for summons. I was tempted to ask for a rendition of “Surrey With a Fringe On Top”, but aside from being mean, it probably wouldn’t have weathered the translation. When we sat in the hotel bar because we got rained out of the hotel pool, there were four waiters standing around just waiting for us to want something. We were the only two people in the bar. With four waiters and a bartender. I should have asked for a foot rub. One Italian man for each foot. There’s an opportunity I’ll never get back. When we ordered a mojito, a waiter dashed out and PICKED MINT FROM THE GARDEN. When we joked about exchanging the classical for some good dance tunes, someone must have overheard us because a few minutes later we were listening to ’70s dance hits. It was a little creepy.
We eventually noticed a china tea pot in the display near my head. We were on drink two or three, and so the pot leaf pattern on the tea pot seemed extra funny. The bartender saw us laughing and said, “We can do a special infusion! Anything is possible!”
That’s my kind of hotel.
~~~
*Me proposing on our kid’s fifth birthday is a bit of an exaggeration. Chuck E. Cheese, however, is not.
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June 15th, 2007 at 12:18 am
Perhaps I am a bad friend? Or, maybe I know you too well? I never even considered that the situation could result in a ring presentation. Hey but maybe you should put forward that idea that a ring can mean what you guys want it to. It doesn\’t have to mean anything legal is on its way (or ever intended), but that it simply symbolizes your love and devotion to each other. And can look way pretty. God, how girlie did that sound?
~~~
Yes, why have a wedding when you can spend all that money on roast beef instead?
June 15th, 2007 at 8:36 am
All spring I’ve been wanting to send you pictures of the gazebo covered with a lavish display of white roses and suggest that a small, private ceremony would be so nice, but your mother and your friend kept telling me to keep my mouth shut…..guess you can tell how much I listen to them! We could hide the guests in the house unti the deed was done and then just have a party.
June 15th, 2007 at 9:35 am
Actually, to be absolutely accurate, I think I asked only ONE question about marriage. (Thinking about it later, I couldn\’t remember if I really even said the word or thought it and just barely kept it from escaping my lips. Obviously, I guess it did come out after all.) But what you call \”the most unexciting non-announcement ever\” made my heart leap with joy then, as it has millions of times since.
Some time later, when I told you and Mr. Moose that I was saving the books you and your brother had when you were little for my grandchildren, he did look like he thought I was a little (only a little?!?!) nuts. Oh, we prospective grandparents do odd things….
~~~
Yes, there were two marriage questions. The second seemed to slip out involuntarily and you immediately looked guilty. Is it wrong of me to find that funny?
June 15th, 2007 at 11:23 am
I\’m green, nay chartreuse, with envy. Oh, that place is heavenly. (I\’d have been thinking about pushing the statues over the cliff too, heh)
I postponed a wedding with WhatsHisFace for years because I just couldn\’t handle that whole veil, dress, watching me thing. Well that, and he was my first serious relationship and whatthehellamIthinking? Right, point. Justice of the peace with our nearest and dearest, taking them all out to a fun dinner afterwards, and then letting my sister throw a family reception fit the bill for us. If I had it to do over, I\’m thinking luau with Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts (for the boys of course) would be a fun way to go.
~~~
That pretty much matches the total extent of thought I\’ve given wedding plans. Backyard barbeque. I would wear red shoes. Who says you need more of a plan than that?
June 15th, 2007 at 7:12 pm
Well then, we’ve got a great BBQ and …….
June 15th, 2007 at 7:56 pm
Oh, I’m so jealous of your non-proposal vacation! Hold the marriage and bring on the sweeping views!
June 16th, 2007 at 2:37 am
What the heck\’s going on with the backslashes? Weird, I thought moose maw (hi moose maw!) was having a typing problem, but then I noticed I must have been having a typing problem too. World-wide conspiracy? Bring on the red shoes and beef buffet! Does Harry\’s Hofbreau cater? (I\’ll lend you the blue stripy socks too if it\’s cold.)
~~~
Backslashes are my bane. Blue stripy socks, however, rule my world. They would be borrowed, blue, and way too small for my boat-like hooves!
June 16th, 2007 at 10:29 am
Call me. Because I am totally going to answer my phone \”Pronto!\”
~~~
In the British accent. Oh, my life is complete.
June 17th, 2007 at 5:56 am
Ah yes. I realize my credibility is shot as I did end up getting married, but we started the kid thing way before that, and at the time had no intention of ever legally binding ourselves to one another. And the reactions from my family were considerably less benign.
I continue to writhe with vacation jealousy, over here.
~~~
Benign families are a blessing on par with well-funded stock portfolios and a garage full of Cheetos.
June 18th, 2007 at 7:37 am
Also jealous of the supremely beautiful vacation from which you’ve just returned? Just found your blog and have not had time to sufficiently stalk through your archives.
But suffice it to say, I will be stalking. Oh yes, I will. I’m so excited to have found a new blog I really like! And your pictures really are amazing.
June 18th, 2007 at 8:06 am
Beautiful!
I tried e-mailing you at a gmail address I have for you from back in the cookie days…but maybe it’s an old e-mail.
Wanted to book a date for drinks while we’re down there. I entered my e-mail with the comments.
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