DESERT VIEW by Layla Edwards
July 16, 2006 Sunday Tucson AZ
Well the Chinese take-out dinner last night was an unqualified disaster. I had a taste for Chinese food all week, so yesterday at Catalina pool I said to Bill “can we stop at China Rose on the way home and I can get buffet to go.”
He said “OK” altho his taste was for bbq chicken from supermarket.
“It’s up to you” I said.
But he wanted to please me so he said “whatever you want.”
“Do you want to come in?” I said when we arrived at parking lot.
I thought it would be easier for me if he chose what he wanted to eat. Also there are condiments but you have to ladle them into the little plastic cups yourself, I always skip that part cause it is too much for me to do. I thought if Bill went with me he could do it.
He said “no I don’t want to come in.”
“OK” I said, “I’ll do it myself.”
He called out what he wanted, the chicken tempura.
When I arrived I knew I had come at wrong time. The dregs of lunch buffet was still there, they had not put out supper buffet, so everything in the serving trays had turned hard.
I still filled up the takeout container with the chicken tempura even tho I could see it had turned hard, and then looked for other things to add.
I ordered a big rice to-go with it so Bill would not have to go to the trouble of cooking rice.
I helped myself to 3 egg rolls and put them on top of the rice take-out instead of in the buffet box so they would stay crispy.
There wasn’t much of a selection, maybe there is no Saturday night buffet. I did manage to put the condiments in their little plastic cups. I was so proud of myself.
I thought “this will be tasty dinner and a big change from what we had been eating.” I ate my portion when I got home.
6 hours later at 9 PM Bill called out he is ready for his Chinese supper and sat down at the table. I realized it wasn’t as easy as it seemed, because everything had to be microwaved to make it hot again. I was a little overwhelmed at how to do it, because I realized everything would have to be microwaved separately, the rice, the egg rolls, and the dinner.
I emptied the package of rice into a big bowl, looked for a plate to put on top of it, and microwaved it for four minutes. Then I brought it out to the table.
Then I took the 3 egg rolls and put them in the container the rice had come in and microwaved them for two minutes. I brought out the condiments and the egg rolls. I made him a soda with lots of ice, and I put in the heavy package of food to microwave for 5 minutes.
He called out “come sit down Anne, I’m always halfway thru my dinner by the time you sit down.”
I said “I am microwaving the food for 5 minutes.”
He said “that’s too long, it will turn hard.”
So I shut it off and brought it in. I really wanted to finish those last minute chores before I sat down at table, put the porch light on, little things. But he had said how I was always futzing around and not sitting at table when we eat.
Of course I wasn’t hungry, I had already eaten when I first came home with the food. I had only planned to have a little to keep him company, an egg roll, and some other little stuff.
I was making myself a glass with ice and soda when he said “sit down already,” so I turned off the microwave, brought in the food, grabbed my glass with ice and soda and sat down.
He opened up the bowl of steaming rice and said “what’s this in there! don’t they wash the rice! now you see why I always wash the rice!” I don’t know what he saw but he found it unappetizing and it depressed him. He carried on about it.
Then he tried the chicken tempura. “You have to be so careful with microwave” he said, “it is hard.”
I said “it was hard when I got it, but I didn’t know what to do, that was your order and I didn’t have the wits to change when I saw it was hard.”
A depressed silence fell on the table. I was actually enjoying my egg roll with the hot mustard. I had never been able to finesse getting the hot mustard before, it sure was tasty but hot. But he wasn’t talking and depression was coming from somewhere.
“I didn’t want to say anything Anne because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but this food is awful, I’m not eating it, give it to Lulu,” and he pushed away his plate.
I guess because he had held back his feelings all during the depressed silence because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings, it now all came out in a storm.
“I am never taking you there again! I am never going to that restaurant again! I wanted fried chicken from Frys! Soup and sandwich is better than this!” We had been having soup and sandwich for past 3 nights.
He went on and on about how the food is so awful and he won’t go there again. “I am never going to that restaurant again!”
I started to get upset. Money had been spent and I am short of money now. I had put in a lot of effort at the restaurant trying to do it right. And then I had put in effort with the microwaving. I had been nervous at first I wouldn’t be able how to figure out how to microwave the 3 separate dishes and be able to serve it all without Bill having to wait at table for it.
He kept going on and on (“I had been looking forward to my Chinese dinner”) and I was upset feeling like a failure. My spirits were going down.
I tuned in my Higher Self who said “don’t say anything” and she just sweet-talked me.
The depressed silence for 15 minutes before the explosion came had been a bummer too. I didn’t want to collapse into feeling like a failure, so I just kept tuned to my Higher Self who was saying “don’t say anything” and sweet-talking me to keep my spirits up.
Finally I figured he had said enough about how awful the food was. He called in Lulu so I could feed the chicken he would not eat to her. I picked out all the chicken and put it on little plate for her, and she ate it.
I said he doesn’t have to tell me anymore how bad the food was, but I guess he was still saying “I will never go to that restaurant again” when I was in the kitchen, because my Higher Self pointed out “he didn’t go to the restaurant, he sat in the parking lot, if he had gone to the restaurant he could have picked out his own food and maybe it would have been better.”
I really perked up when my Higher Self said that. Hearing it from him the picture was so black, I felt like I had tried so hard and everything was wrong, I had done everything wrong, altho Bill didn’t blame me, he blamed the restaurant. But my Higher Self felt there were holes in Bill’s scenario.
And when Bill said yet again, “I will never go to that restaurant again,” I said “you didn’t go to the restaurant, you went to the parking lot.”
It gave me such a lift to say that. It felt so crisp.
I went back to the table and Bill said the meal depressed him, and we sat in that depression for a while till I said “I’m going to bed” and he said “good.”
But instead of going to bed I came in and turned on my machine, and I posted an article about a UFO sighting in Alaska on my news site. And the same attitude which made me say “you didn’t go to the restaurant you went to the parking lot,” the same refusal to let the wave of failure engulf me entirely, the same decision to just detach myself from what was happening, to refuse to be drawn into it, completely took over when I started to post. I just decided to kick up my heels. I decided to dance and party all over my site.
My site has been dreary for long time and I had been just going along with things as they were, succumbing to the prevailing atmosphere, but when I broke free from the gloom at the table I was a new Anne. No way was I going to waltz into the gloom on my site. I kicked up my heels and danced. I was totally spirited. I made jokes about everything. I was much bolder and dauntless. It was so much fun.
Naturally when you post a UFO article there are those who come on the thread just to make jokes about it but the devil had gotten into me.
When Packrat posted his joke, “I don’t know why the UFO has its headlamps on, it is broad daylight,” I posted back “you don’t know anything about ET craft, that is its guidance system.”
To my astonishment he fell for my malarkey. And came back with his own joke about flying saucers and little green men. I had a lot of jokes about that because of how the Greys do look.
Another poster who I don’t know posted a photo of a plane and said “this is from the ‘50s, we don’t know what our Air Force has now.”
And I posted back in all sincerity “is that a fighter jet, I don’t know anything about aircraft.”
And he said “it is the Sr 77 Blackbird, it is a spy plane, and it goes so fast it is top secret how fast it goes.” So then naturally I had a ball posting about the Blackbird spy plane.
When nothing was happening on my UFO thread I went on other threads and cracked jokes about their posts. As much fun as I had cracking jokes with posters I am old friends with, the most fun was with the new poster I had just met on the UFO thread who told me all about the Blackbird spy plane.
He had flown one and was clearly in love with that aircraft. And for some reason all the exuberance of the new 1950s technology was translated into that plane. Seeing it in all its glory in that photo he posted, was like seeing the first of the '50s two-toned cars with fins when I was a little girl.
It had the same beauty, excitement, pride, it was so alive, there was a happy spirit there. We were both astonished that an aircraft he loved so dearly had been love at first sight for me.....
I guess there’s more to life than being a wife
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