More Jealousy

"Who ees Amanda?"

"Amanda?" I asked confused.

“Yes, Amanda. zhat’s her name eesn’t it?” Heidi’s accent was getting thicker as she was getting angry and talking faster. “Who ees she?”

Heidi and I were having a picnic at a park near my house in Mountain View. I had prepared a basket of sandwiches, fruit, my potato salad, and a bottle of white wine (a good New Zealand sauvignon blanc) which is actually not allowed at the park. I picked her up and then went back to my house to pick up the picnic (just to keep things as fresh as possible). I noticed that there was a message on the answering machine as we went into the kitchen. I had my cell turned off - no disturbances while I'm with Heidi - so if someone really wanted to reach me they might have tried to call the house. I wasn’t worried about hiding anything from her – so I just hit the button. It was Sarah.

“Hi Rich.” Came the voice from the machine with enthusiasm. “I got your gift. Thanks so much. I really like it. Look me up next time you’re in the neighborhood. Can’t wait to see you again.” There was a pause, and then a “thanks again, bye” in a very sing song voice. Well, at least she didn’t say “I love you!” Why do I even have a land line? Why do I have an answering machine?

Heidi was very quiet as we drove to the park. I thought it was the phone call that she was unhappy about. Once we were at the park she demanded to know who Amanda was, which threw me for a loop. “Yes, zees Amanda, who ees she? I saw the mail on your counter. It was addressed to ‘Amanda’, with your house number on it. You didn’t tell me you were living with a woman.”

“Whoa, slow down. Amanda is Jason’s girlfriend. I live with Scott and Jason. Jason has a girlfriend - Amada. She has been staying over at the house a lot lately.”

“Sleeping there? Getting mail there?”

“Yes, to both questions. But she is Jason’s girlfriend. I’m not his mom. I don’t tell him who he can sleep with or when he can sleep with her.”

“So that was her bra on the sofa?”

Oh, crap. I guess I need to scrub the house before I have Heidi over. Thinking about it from her perspective I can see how this was looking pretty bad. “Yes. Well, she and Jason tend play in the living room.” It was clear that I was offending her Midwestern sensibilities. We have been dating for 3 weeks now and I’ve not so much as made it to first base yet. (Oddly, that does not bother me at all, but that’s a whole different post.)

“And who was that on the phone message?”

I inhaled deeply. “That was Sarah.” I explained about Sarah and how she had recently moved up to Seattle – and that we had been close, but broke up about a year ago. This took a while, and I think she started to calm down. (I won’t post it all here, but these posts have the history of Sarah, this post, the second half of this post and my recent weekend with Sarah.) I left out the part that we were engaged. And I really left out the weekend that we had spent together recently. But I can only think that it would have made things worse. The food was getting warm. This wasn’t the picnic I was planning on.

“Well,” she sniffed, “at least you played the phone message in front of me. You weren’t trying to hide anything.” She paused for quite a while.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She was jealous. I wish it had made me feel good. You know, flattered in a way because someone really cares me and wants me. Jealousy is an ugly emotion, but sometimes it exposes how we really feel. There have been times when it is nice to know that someone cares that much, even if they haven’t shown it in other ways. It just wasn’t the case this time.

Jealousy

“Hey, I don’t want you cooking for her anymore.” Jason (one of my housemates) was angrier than I had ever seen him before.

“It’s only food.” I protested.

“Just cut it out.” Jason was nearly yelling.

It seems that he is developing a bad case of jealousy. Amanda (his girlbuddy) has been staying over night just about every night lately. She has some of her mail delivered here, too. Scott (my other housemate) and I have been trying to decide if we should start charging her rent. I don’t think we should bother, as the couple of them don’t take up any more room than Jason did alone. Personally, I like having a woman around – it has a certain civilizing influence on the household. Except, of course, when someone gets jealous – then things start to get ugly.

Anyway, Amanda and I are the early risers in the house and we have been having breakfast together almost every day for the last couple of weeks. I promised to make her eggs benedict with real hollandaise sauce – and I guess this put Jason over the top. He seems to think it is my after sex breakfast. While it is one of the more impressive breakfasts in my repertoire, I’ve had everything from omelets to oatmeal (or oreos) the morning after.

Frankly, I would not take Amanda from him – even if I didn’t have a “would-be” girl friend that I am currently dating - well, sort of. I know the pain of losing someone and I would not impose that on anyone. I’ll back off. I’ve not been taking my morning paddles recently – I guess it’s time to start again.

In other news, Sarah (the runaway bride) has moved up to Seattle, and found a cozy new apartment – cozy as in really small. But she thinks this is just a temporary. I sent her a new coffee maker, a really nice one, as a house warming gift.

She never made it back to the bay area on her way up to Seattle. Damn. My ankle still hurts from time to time from that nasty fall I took trying not to be late for our date. I guess that type of injury takes a while to heal. Funny, the ache in my ankle makes me limp at times, but it reminds me of our weekend together – I kinda like it.

Someone Got Lucky

This morning, after my paddle I was making some fresh squeezed orange juice for myself and a glass for Amanda. She usually comes out to chat when she hears me working in the kitchen in the mornings. Kinda like a cat when you bang her food bowls. I think I may be spoiling her.

"Someone got lucky" she said in a sing song voice.

I gave her a scowl - "Don't rub it in" I thought it was rather rude of her to say that to a currently sex deprived guy.

"What do you mean, didn't you have fun?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong here, but didn't you just come out of the double occupancy bedroom?"

"You never made it home Monday night. I just assumed... Oh." She looked a bit embarrassed. I didn't realize that she was keeping tabs on me.

"I, uh, kinda overindulged at the brewery in Half Moon Bay. Ended up crashing (figuratively not literally) at a nearby motel."

"Wow, you must really been plastered."

"Well, a few too many to drive." (I don't drink and drive since the accident) I regaled her with my story of not being able to pick-up anyone all night - and ultimately getting a motel room for one. She found it all a bit too amusing for my taste. I hope I wasn't being laughed at.

We were laughing together when Jason came out (he's the guy she shares the room with). He gave us a grumpy look - I'm suspecting a bit jealous. He doesn't need to worry. I would not come between them.

Jason has a Girlfriend

I was shocked, shocked I tell you! I came home from work last night to a dark house. Which is not all that unusual. As often as not my housemates are off to bed before I arrive home. I opened the door to the kitchen, got a beer out of the fridge and walked toward the living room. I was planning on channel surfing a bit before heading off to bed. But as I walked into the living room I was faced with a posterior. A woman’s posterior. A woman’s naked posterior. The front half of the woman was under a large blanket which was spread out on the floor. The top half of my housemate, Jason, was poking out the far side of the blanket. They were engaged in some, ah, amorous activity. Use your imagination.

I was shocked. Not at seeing the naked bottom half of a woman. I actually kinda liked that – it was rather shapely. I was shocked that Jason had gotten so far with a girl. It’s not that Jason is a bad guy or anything. But you need to understand, this is a house inhabited by three programmers (OK, nerds). So far, since I moved in about a year ago, there has been only one girlfriend that any of us had and I only had her for a few weeks. Way to go Jason. Judging from what little I saw of her, she was quite a catch.

I quietly retreated to my bedroom.

-------------------

This morning I got up early, as has been my habit and went paddling on the bay. When I got home to take a shower before work I met the top half of Amanda – which was every bit as attractive as the bottom half. She was in the dining room reading the paper. I knew that Jason had been going out with her for a while, but I didn’t know they were so serious (OK, perhaps they’re not serious – but their relationship has seriously advanced). I made a pot of coffee and poured us both a cup.

We chatted about nothing much in particular. I learned that she was living in an apartment in Sunnyvale, she likes country western music, and she is the receptionist at a computer company in Cupertino (no, not the really famous one). She has two cats named Ginger and Mary Anne. That was all of her life story that I got before Jason came out of his bedroom all dressed up and (sniff sniff) smelling good – in a masculine sort of way. They greeted each other with the silliest grins – OK, at some level I’m jealous - and then they headed off for work.

I want a girlfriend, too. Not just any girlfriend – I want my Lynn back. Damn it.

Solstice Feast

All these winter holidays we have are really tied to the winter solstice. It is the moment when the days stop getting shorter and start getting longer. For ancient man in Northern climates this had to be a really significant event. It meant that the end of the world was not at hand – that the summer and its bounty would be back.

I take the solstice as a time to have a really decadent dinner. OK, so those of you that have been reading for a while know that I don’t need much of an excuse to be decadent. Anyway, this year I went for my version of Pasta Carbonara. (see recipe)

I cooked it yesterday for dinner and Jason and I tore through it.

I paired this with one of the super Tuscan Chiantis that I bought last summer. It was a 1998 Tenuta dell Ornellaia, and it was awesome – hopefully it will thin the blood a bit.

I’ll get some paddling in later this week to work off all that saturated fat.

Happy solstice, everyone

Thanksgiving

Enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner at Liz’s down in Morgan Hill. Liz is Lynn’s boss from work, and she is a great cook. (For new readers Lynn is my BFF and drinking buddy). We had all the standard Thanksgiving fare – turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. But there was also turkey long rice, pork adobo, lup chong, lumpia, haupia, and a bunch of other filipino food that I can’t remember what it was. Liz is half Filipino and half every other race that has mixed together in Hawaii. She is from Hawaii too – it’s amazing how the Hawaii folks stick together even after relocating to the mainland. Her husband Tom is Jewish, I think from New York.

I brought 2 bottles of red that I thought would go well with Turkey. An '04 Ravenswood Shiraz and an '03 Sokol Blosser Oregon Pinot Noir – nothing extravagant and quite accessible wines (that means even non wine snobs can enjoy them).

Lynn brought her sister Stacey who is visiting from L.A. She’s a really cute kid. She is going to USC getting an advanced degree – masters if I recall correctly - somehow related to medicine. There was quite a crowd of other Hawaii exports there as well. We played a rousing game of "What high-school you went?" It’s a Hawaii thing.

The food, wine, and conversation were all wonderful. Someone brought a DVD of a recent University of Hawaii football home game, they are rarely televised here. This was shown on Tom’s new ginormous plasma TV. I am generally bored by non-participation sports, so I stayed in the kitchen and helped Liz clean up and chatted with Stacey. She didn’t care for the wine I brought, but opted for after dinner white zinfandel. After the game the crowd thinned. Tom, always the generous host, brought out a very nice single malt scotch that he had been given as a gift last Christmas. Tom doesn’t drink – but he knows that I do. It was an Oban, 14 years old, not too peaty, and really smooth and flavorful. I had a couple of glasses, neat.

The party was nearly over with Jim (Lynn's other half), Lynn, Stacey and myself left as the guests. We sat in the family room discussing work, sports, politics, the weather in Mililani and such. As it was time to leave Tom asked if I was OK to drive – although I wasn’t really drunk, the truth was it would have been a bad idea. Jim offered to take me home with him. "We have the guest bed," he said "I don’t think Stacey would mind sharing." I never know what to say to things like that. To be honest, the thought had crossed my mind (was it obvious?), but this wasn’t how I envisioned going about it. I really wanted to look at Stacey, but turned to Lynn instead. She made a slight – almost imperceptible - roll of her eyes. Liz broke an uncomfortable silence by offering me a room. "You’re welcome to stay here, we have plenty of room." They have a 5 bedroom house and there are just the two of them living there. I accepted Liz’s offer and took their guest bed.

Liz and Tom have an amazing relationship. They have been married about 10 years and even from a distance you can tell that it is still fresh. They are genuinely best friends and lovers. I have seen them disagree, but never be disagreeable to each other. Perhaps they save that for when they are alone, I don’t know. If I ever get married I’d like to have a home like theirs.

I woke up a bit before 6:00 on Friday with a pounding headache and a mouth that felt like a rodent had crawled in and slept there. (OK, maybe I was drunk) I took a shower and poked around the bathroom for some aspirin. I couldn’t find any. I changed into my clean clothes. I keep a set in the truck, along with a toothbrush, just for events like this. I made a mental note to add aspirin to my overnight kit. The headache was bad enough that I decided to head out to the local Safeway to get some aspirin. I also picked up some breakfast. Some fresh thyme, chives, and tarragon, a dozen eggs, some brie cheese and black forest ham. I couldn’t remember if Liz has coffee, I don’t recall her drinking it at the office. So I also got a pound of Starbucks and a bag of oranges.

I went back to Liz’s house and made the coffee and squeezed some oranges. I sat and read the San Jose Merc and had a chat with buster until signs of life started to emanate from upstairs. Buster is their pet ferret that they keep in a cage in the family room.

Liz came down first. "Good morning! I see you found the coffee maker." I offered her a cup and some orange juice. I started to chop up the herbs for omelets and began heating a frying pan I found in the kitchen. Liz protested, "Stop, you can’t cook breakfast. I’m still full from last night." I looked at her and could tell that she didn’t mean it. "Your mouth says no but your eyes say yes." She laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. "Have you ever had pork adobo for breakfast?" she asked. "We’ve got plenty."

"Thanks, but I’m partial to eggs in the morning." I really do love a brie cheese omelet. I made three and Tom was down by the time the third was done. Tom made exaggerated "mmm" sounds while eating. I love it when people do that - when they are eating my cooking. When he finished his fresh squeezed OJ he jokingly asked if I’d move in. "That’s the best offer I’ve had all week." I replied, "But the commute would be a bear from down here."

I headed back home at about 10. Scott (my housemate) had gone to visit his family in Yakima so he wasn’t home. Jason (my other housemate) was out somewhere but I didn’t know where. I sat on my bed and looked around at my room, my head still pounding. I had moved in more than six months ago and half my stuff was still in boxes. This isn’t what I had in mind for a bachelor pad. I went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. When I got there I saw that Jason had left an empty can of chili on the kitchen counter and some dirty dishes in the sink. Hell of a thanksgiving dinner.

I suddenly felt terrible for him.

Hi, I'm Rich

I’ll confess. I’m a chronic Blog lurker. For several years now I have read a number of blogs and commented anonymously and enjoyed reading them. It seems easy enough – so I decided to finally take the plunge. Here goes.

So, since this is the start of my Blog, I’ll tell you a little about myself. I am Rich (with a big R, not a little r) – so really Richard (I try really hard not to be a Dick). I just turned 34 in August. My kid sister teases me that I was named after Richard Nixon – he resigned from office the day I was born. I guess my parents weren’t watching the news – or maybe it’s some weird sense of humor they have. I grew up in Hawaii. Aiea to be more precise. I am a Haole. If you are from Hawaii, you know what that means. I was, in fact, the most haole guy in my school growing up. That was the bad part. The good part was I got to grow up in Hawaii – although since I lived there my whole life until I was 23, so I didn’t know anything different. It wasn’t a paradise. We had dentists, traffic jams, indoor plumbing, and homework just like the rest of the world. Still, it’s a nice place. If the dot com bubble ever comes back I’m going to retire there.

A lot has changed for me in the past year. I used to have a job that I loved, a great girlfriend that I was engaged to, and lived in a great apartment in Cupertino. I got cranky at my former employer and quit without having a new job in hand. Not the smartest move I ever made - but, damn, it felt great at the time. I landed a new job, but had to take a pay cut and job is not nearly as good. My fiancé gave me the heave-ho a couple of days before our wedding. With no one to share the rent with and a smaller paycheck I was forced to either start drinking cheap wine or find more humble accommodations. I opted to move in with some buddies from the office.

Now I work as a software engineer (I write computer programs) at a company in Sunnyvale. I got my Computer Science degree from the University of Hawaii and could not afford to make a living in Hawaii. San Jose is expensive, but at least you can get a good paying job. I travel a lot, as my job involves getting out and meeting with customers. Of all the engineers in the group I am considered the “presentable” one. I guess that means I have some modicum of social skills.

I live with 2 other guys in a rented 3 bedroom house in Mountain View – Scott and Jason. The three of us all used to work at the same company in San Jose. We are all nerds. But then so are most of the folks in the neighborhood. Just about everyone here is working on computers in some way. Although during the bubble (1999-2000) everyone (even my favorite bartender) became a web designer – My bartender would read Java manuals between serving drinks. Fortunately, now he is focused on his mixology and his clientele.

Lynn is my best friend and drinking buddy. We met at the University of Hawaii, taking computer classes together. She was the smart undergrad in two of my master’s level classes. Now – inexplicably – we work at the same company in Sunnyvale – small world. Just after the break-up with Sarah (the one that dumped me at the altar) I abused alcohol pretty significantly, and Lynn was right there to help me. Partly, I’m sure, because I abuse a pretty good class of booze. She was always there to listen to all my whining and crying. If someone is going to put up with my whining the least I can do is buy them some good wine. When things go great or crappy, Lynn is the first one that I call. It’s really great to get a female perspective on things from someone you trust. I consider myself a smart guy, but when it comes to women I can do some really dumb things.

Lynn is living with and engaged to Jim – they have a place in Milpitas. Jim is a Windsurfer (as am I) and we have gone out on the bay a few times. He is more of an enthusiast than I am. But he keeps pushing me to get out there. The problem is that I got spoiled in Hawaii where the conditions are so perfect – the tradewinds combined with the warm water – that I have a hard time with most of the locations here in the bay area. You can get some good wind on the bay – but that water is dirty and cold. Jim drinks my good wine too, but he doesn’t have much patience for my pining over Sarah. He tells me, "Look, you’re rich, good looking, well hung, and 45 minutes from San Francisco where there are way more women than straight guys. Go get laid and you’ll feel better." Sometimes I think he might be right – sometimes it’s good to get the primitive male perspective on things too.