A Romantic Weekend With The Ambassador of Ambiguity

I got movin’ the minute my feet hit the floor. Turned the stereo on blasting, took care of my pups, and jumped in the shower… to get all primped, washed and shaved up right for my romantic overnight.

Finished throwing a few things in a bag and I was off to get my guy. Zoomed over there in my shiny clean Charger, rarin’ to go. I was greeted at the door with a smattering of kisses. As he grabbed his stuff, I turned and realized…

“Are you bringing your laundry basket?” I asked, with one eyebrow cocked. I must say, The Ambassador keeps me giggling.

“Ya, it’s my luggage” he said, “it was SO embarrassing when I was going to management school for work… with all the other managers and they are pulling their fancy rolling suitcases and stuff. They were asking me… ‘hey, did you bring your laundry?’… pointing and laughing.”

By this time we are roaring, and cackling with laughter. He doesn’t care about the stupid laundry basket. He figured it’s dual purpose, and he doesn’t end up storing some suitcase that he never uses.
We jumped in the car and I drove. He wanted to stop at a few shops along the way… which was totally fine since we had all day and only a few hours to drive. We could stop along the way all we wanted.

We went antiquing in this fabulous little Oregon town that he loves. SO many great places and fun unique finds. The Ambassador shops through there all the time. He even brings me little treasures, like the brass fireplace tools that stand beside the hearth in the middle of my home.

We walked through tons of shops, touching things while the shop owners looked on nervously… trying to make things work that were rusted shut or broken long ago. The Ambassador is currently crushing on this lantern project. He founds some fabulous looking metal kerosene heaters and has begun to restore them. So, he was taking those things apart and checking them out. Ha! The store employees love it when you do that.

He was so fun to be out with… easy going and affectionate. I also love to see his protective side puff up. This happens in one of two ways… either he sees a dude checking me out, and so becomes sort of uber fake friendly. He taunts the guy, with this overwhelmingly sweet sarcastic tone. It’s kind of hilarious. I’ve never seen anyone man up to him about it. They just turn their head and walk away.

OR, like the other night when some creepy transient came walking up to my car window while The Ambassador was out of the car closing a gate. That’s when the kid who grew up running the streets comes out. Whaaat a turn on, and lucky for me, since I was totally oblivious to said creepy transient dude.

We had a lot of fun on the drive over but my anxiety did rear it’s ugly head at one point. The Ambassador was patient and supportive. I took a half a xanax and calmed right down in 20 minutes or less, just as the Doc promised.

We arrived and wandered the grounds marveling at all the little surprises you don’t see in the pictures onlines… like rope swings every where you look and the laid back hippie vibe of the place. There was such a welcoming atmosphere, like we were staying with old friends. It was beautiful and a little damp, drizzling tiny drops of rain in classic Oregon style.

The Ambassador loaded up the bags (and laundry basket) and hauled them up the several flights of stairs. We were delighted with all the fabulous details in the room, including the handmade latch on the door.

We tossed our bags down on the bed and explored the other vacant treehouses and hanging bridges surrounding the main house. At one point, I stood near the firepit and cirlce of chairs staring at the gorgeous mural painted behind the stage built out on the side of the main house.

What a great place this would be to come with a huge group of friends. The kids would love it, and we’d spend long hours smokin’ and jokin’ by the fire. (ok, maybe not smoking) Barbequeing and swimming, kids running all over the grounds playing.
We walked the field and hiked the trails to accessible zipline platforms. We talked about our childhoods and the baggage they left behind. We walked hand in hand, meandering near the horses petting and feeding them… talking about our plans for the next day.

We headed back up to our little clubhouse and looked over the book of nearby fun stuff and food, then headed back in to town to get a pizza. The Ambassador maneuvered the Charger along the two lane roads lines with random and possibly drunken pedestrians in the dark.

As we pulled in to the small town pizza & brewing company I remarked “only in Oregon is there a giant tree in the middle of the parking lot!”

He laughed, “Can you imagine them watching us, if we hit that tree… they’d be all laughing at us. ‘Ooooh, California hit the tree,’ shaking their heads.” It was a great little place, cedar inside and out, and bursting with locals. We grabbed our pizza and hauled it up to the treehouse to lounge on the bed munching and reading tarot cards.

It was close quarters, playful and romantic. We started gettin’ down, giggling over the lack of curtains that provided quite a saucy view of my naked breasts if anyone happened to look. What a terrific night.

The next morning we moved leisurely, enjoying being in each others arms talking and always laughing. I snuck down to the main house and brought back some breakfast and coffee for my guy — then we packed up and headed for the shower.

The Ambassador stood around talking to one of the “tree fairies”… a rather unkempt young girl paid to clean the rooms. Always business management on the brain, he questioned her a lighthearted way about her duties, which she seemed to be going about with no particular sense of urgency. I watched through the corner of my eye as the young girl giggled and eyed the gorgeous Ambassador of Ambiguity. Then I teased him about it as we showered together.

I teased but in truth I was utterly delighted. He handled that interaction with no flirtation on his part what so ever. I was aware that I was more highly appreciative of this than I have been in the past– after that incident with The Collector and The Skanky Wine Girl the last time I was on a romantic getaway.

The Ambassador wrapped his arms around me while we stood in the flow of the water and told me there was no where else in the world he’d rather be. THIS is everything he wants and exactly where he wants to be.

He patiently puttered around as I blow dried, dressed, and put on a dash of make up. I was beaming as we headed out to the zipline course.

What a blast! Great instructors with warm, confident personalities. We zipped then hiked to the next line. We zipped off the hill to a platform at the top of a tree, then climbed to another higher platform. The light rain making everything a bit slippery and more exciting. Zip, zip, zip.

The Ambassador and I were both very comfortable having spent our childhoods climbing trees and swinging off rope swings. It was a great experience but not quite as adrenaline filled as I expected it to be. I’m SO glad we did the giant Tarzan swing!

The Ambassador was himming and hawing at this point, put off by the additional cost. I get that, as The Ambassador and I have enough but we certainly aren’t swimming in disposable income. Plus, we’ve both swung on plenty of rope swings throughout our lives. Still, the instructors kept saying how great of an adrenaline rush it was, and that it would be totally worth it.

I finally made a command decision. “You have to do this. We’re doing it. It’ll be my treat!”

We hiked up to the tree and it looked like a really high, really fat rope swing. No big deal. They strap you to it like 199 different ways. Then they started to explain. “You hang on to these handles and we haul you all the way up there, then when we say ‘let go!’– let go with both hands at the same time. –And KEEP IN MIND, once you’re up there, the only way down is to let go. So, we’ll just wait if we need to. You’ll get hungry or something eventually, and let go.”

I thought about it, and was not deterred in the slightest. They hooked me up, and hauled me up there by the handles. I immediately noticed the incredible weight on my shoulders. It felt like they were going to be ripped out of their sockets. I closed my eyes tight, partly because it was so incredibly high it was terrifying but also because my shoulders were starting to burn. I gritted my teeth and prayed they’d hurry the hell up and say go.

I had no hesitation letting go because my shoulders were on fire! Once I did let go, then came the shock. FREE FALL!!! It was free fall for the longest time until the rope caught. I screamed my lungs out! I sounded like a freaky horror flick…. ahhhhhhhhhhh!! and The Ambassador got it all on video!

By the time I came out of the fear paralysis, I realized The Ambassador was bent over laughing… He was laughing so hard he was stumbling around, and saying things like “ya can’t fake a scream like that!”

We made some incredible memories. I loooove that. I have often heard that when we leave this world, the only thing we can take with us is our memories. Plus, in a relationships, it’s our experiences that bind us together, and build a history. Time and experiences.
We went on to finish up our trip with dinner and a movie… more of my stupid anxiety, cured for a short time by a dash of xanax… and then a pitiful attempt at snapping a decent photo of us together. (When having his picture taken, The Ambassador has a complete inability to do anything except screw his face up in a way that makes him look like he’s mentally handicapped. Annoying and hilarious at the same time.)

On the drive home I mentioned some of my most damaging childhood experiences with a stepdad who was intensely verbally & emotionally manipulative and abusive…. Putting me through a horrific mind fuck as I tried to hang on to some shred of self esteem in my teens. (The Ambassador now -dreams- of beating that sorry SOB to a bloody pulp on a regular basis. LOVE that protective side.)

Back home we spent yet another luxurious night wrapped up together, until 6am arrived and the real world started all over again.

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Published in: on February 21, 2012 at 9:00 am  Comments (10)  
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Prepping for the Next Step

Peacock Perch

A trip… a grand adventure. I don’t get them too often, as a single mom with a demanding career. On the days I don’t work, I usually have the kids. On the days I do work, I work grueling 12 hour shifts, with just enough time after to putter around and sleep to prepare for the next shift. I make time with my man…. don’t get me wrong, but an out of town overnight rarely happens.

I should also mention my stupid ass anxiety too. Stupid social anxiety! I manage it daily with vitamin supplements as I think most of it is due to a magnesium deficiency but certain things… Things that are new to me, or a stark contrast to my regular routine can send my anxiety soaring. (Remember the post “The Most Embarrassing Almost First Date Ever”?) Yet another reason why romantic get aways rarely happen in my world.

Still, seeing a window of opportunity with no kids and no work, both of us off on the same days… I siezed the day.

I planned a fantastic fun adventure at a tree house resort no too incredibly far from where we live. We would play in a tree house overnight, ride zip lines and laugh until we were completely out of breath.

I wondered how it all would go, since my anxiety can cause me to be a real pain in the ass when traveling. I wondered how we would travel together. How patient would he be? How nervous would I be? Is he the type to jump in the car and head out on a mission, not stopping until we hit our destination? OR will he want to stop at every little place along the way, meandering toward our intended location? Maybe somewhere in the middle? Ahhh, now that would be nice.

Would I be too controlling? This is how I get when I am anxious… I want to do the driving. I want to decide when to stop and when to eat. Somehow the thought that I have control of the vehicle soothes me somewhat…

See all these things one learns on a trip with a significant other? It’s kind of a big thing… I’d even call it a step in a relationship. Usually steps freak me out, but in this case, I’m actually excited. I know him well enough that I am comfortable with him, even if the change of scenery wiggs me out.

I played cruise director and made all the reservations, although consulting The Ambassador all along the way. He was down… no question there, and I knew he would be. We’re both kids at heart. Adventurous and eager for new experiences.

We booked a night in The Peacock Perch, pictured above, at a place featured on The Travel Channel called “Out and About”. Check them out here http://www.treehouses.com/treehouse/treesort/prclst0.html

I’m so glad he’s such a kid. I love this about him. I tend to lean more toward the serious side and need a goofy funny big ol’ kid to help me cut loose a little bit.

I’ve alsobeen thinking about others in my life and wondering if they would be quite so eager to truck through some mud and drag suitcases up three flights of stairs to a tree house in the winter… To swing on every rope swing in sight, and strap themselves to a zipline to fly from tree top to tree top on tiny rickety (but safe, totally safe) platforms in the rain.

I find myself prepping like crazy. Packing everything I could possibly need and even staying away from The Ambassador tonight so I can feel truly prepared and be up and at ’em tomorrow to prep and start the day.

Wish me luck and LOW anxiety. ❤

Published in: on February 19, 2012 at 9:00 am  Comments (10)  
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