This weekend is my "bachelorette" (I really hate that word. Hate. Hate. HATE.). I am being swooped away to the Fairmont in Sonoma for a spa weekend and wine tasting by 3 of the dearest people to me. I am very excited. It will most likely be my last luxurious exploit before my departure into wife-of-a-grad-student land so I intend to relish it.
I am unfortunately missing Ryan's sister's college graduation. Actually, unfortunate is the incorrect word. Although I am disappointed that I will not be able to celebrate this rather important event, it is actually fortunate that I cannot go. Ryan’s strange ex-girlfriend, who has maintained a presence in his family's life, despite registering her utter mortification and disapproval at Ryan's engagement by way of a 1700 word diatribe about what a cruel, immature and unfeeling bastard and as such has no business getting married, finishing with asking him to never contact her again, will be in attendance.
She and I have never met, and while part of me would relish watching her squirm and another part of me would like to have words with her, inappropriate as that might (or my words might) be, the other, more important part of me, the part of me concerned with my own future comfort and happiness, would really rather just enjoy a weekend with my caring, fun, open minded, supportive friends, than be in a tense situation created by the presence and actions of such a ridiculous person, entertaining though it might be.
And while her correspondence did make me quite upset, her plan may have backfired though, depending on exactly what they were - neither I, nor Ryan, have been able to discern exactly what she wishes to get out of the situation. Anyway, Ryan and I got in an argument in the Tate Modern in London with regards to the validity of most modern art. In short, I really like Rothko and he does not. I felt quite badly afterwards because I, in a fevered effort to understand Ryan’s perspective, had placed words in his mouth. I regretted what I said fully, because it wasn’t fair and I knew better. I knew better because the whole debacle with this silly girl highlighted to me that he and I have two very different perspectives on some things, instead of “warning me” about what a “cold and withdrawn” person he is. And while he and I have lived very different lives, we have reached a lot of the same conclusions but not all of the same conclusions. Which should keep things interesting for years to come.
I’m so in love.