and the singing signifies … ?

It seems like the Mango and I took a while to recuperate from Saturday, the night we stayed up till 5 a.m.  We were still doing a kind of "relay nap" for the first half of today; we took turns puttering around while the other slept.  (The Chou was out today working at a friend’s place and getting his car fixed.)

Mr. Arbitrage e-mailed me twice while I was on the road-trip to Ottawa, saying "Hope you’re enjoying the drive … " and "Hope you arrived safely … "  It feels … odd … to have someone saying stuff like that to me, thinking about me regularly …

Wow, have I ever been thinking a lot.  What could I live with?  What couldn’t I live without?

He sent me the toll-free number I can use to call him in Hawaii, and since today was his birthday, I decided to use it.  The first time I called, I didn’t think about what time it was over there, and I realized afterward that I had probably called during his deep sleep hours …  The second time I called, I checked the time in Hawaii on the computer first.  No answer.  So I went out shopping with the Mango.  We picked up a few toiletries and ingredients for dinner (squash/potato/carrot/cheddar soup, salad, biscuits … ).  (The really fun thing about this trip has been all the eating in!  I love sharing a kitchen with the Mango.  Last night I made the signature meat sauce.)  When we got back from shopping, I called again, and Mr. Arbitrage answered, eager to know if I had received his apologetic e-mails yet.  The first call he had apparently not heard at all.  The second call happened while he was on the other line, and he pressed the wrong button when trying to switch over to me.

I had promised an eye-rolling Mango that I would only wish him a happy birthday, and hang up right away.  I think we talked for around five or ten minutes.  I handed the phone to the Mango early on, saying to Mr. Arbitrage, "Here’s Mango," and when she leaned in to say "Hello?" I actually saw a spark go from the phone to her cheek, and she shrieked and jumped backward.  Amidst the laughter I retrieved the phone and heard him saying "Uh … what happened?!"  "The phone shocked her face," I guffawed.  He said, "Wow, it must be really dry over there … "  "Tell me about it!  You should see my hair!"  "Oh, now you have to take a picture, you know!"  "Oh, fine, hang on.  Okay, I’m crossing the squeaky hardwood floor to get my camera.  Here, Mango … oh wait we’re repositioning, apparently I’m backlit … okay, … hurry up Mango … you’re scaring me, Mango … okay, we have it on record that my hair is fuzzy in this weather."  He was laughing all through this.  I asked about the weather on his end; apparently it was terrific.  Sunny, warm, … he had had twelve hours of sleep and felt like "a million bucks" and was going to go outside to enjoy it … He asked about the weather on my end; "The flakes are getting thicker," I said.  "We’re going to make soup and do some cross-stitch."  He said, "That sounds really nice, actually.  You’ve got me thinking about snow now."  I said, "Oh, well, the Mango and I were cursing you yesterday as we walked home from returning the rental car, and imagining you sinking your toes into warm sand, while we walked through blowing snow.  You’ve got me thinking about sand … " He said, "Maybe we just want to be where the other is."

I wished him a happy birthday.  The Mango puttered around me in the kitchen, putting groceries away and throwing amused and happy glances at me.  He said he hoped we could chat more soon but that he didn’t want to keep me from hanging out with my hostess.

When we hung up, I started dancing around, singing "Pretty Woman" in my best Roy Orbison voice.  Then I had a nice long shower (very necessary since I had been living in my own filth all day, while we schluffed around sleeping or doing errands), and then the Mango and I started dinner, listening to Motown tunes and wiggling our bums while we chopped veggies.

I feel quite … alive.

L came over in time to partake of soup and biscuits (the Chou came home too just in time to sneak some food while protesting that he wasn’t going to eat).  Then we three girls went to the dollar cinema to catch "The Pursuit of HappYness."  Most stressful movie I have seen in ages.  The Mango passed me a Kleenex at the appropriate moment.  All three of us got headaches from furrowing our brows the whole way through.  We were seriously stressed out, and had to relieve ourselves by having a huge group hug and talking about how things weren’t so bad, really, in our lives.  I said, "And we would never let each other get so desperate, we’d lend each other money in the rough patches … "

I kept trying to picture Mr. Arbitrage in the main character’s position.  I kept wondering what kind of father he’d make.  (He does want kids.)  He has talked to me before about "taking a bullet" for the people he cares about.  At one point I felt the need to explain to him why I had lived with my family for what I felt was an abnormally long amount of time, and he said in a new softer tone of voice I hadn’t heard before: "That’s beautiful.  You took a bullet for your family."  I had not expected that reaction; I had worried that he would have thought me foolish, or worse, seen my commitment to family as a liability (because me being involved in family troubles would mean he’d have to be involved too … if/when we got serious).

And Jane Austenesque thoughts are occurring to me.  I don’t want Mr. Arbitrage to ever worry that what attracts me is his financial security.  I’m somewhat fiercely independent, I’m realizing.