Tomorrow is the most looked-forward to Friday ever. It’s the boy’s birthday, and neither of us have to work, so we’re eagerly anticipating a long morning in bed.
I’m nervous and excited. I’ve only met one of his friends, briefly, not counting my flatmate/his friend who introduced us. The nerves are only about the fact that… ya know, I’m an American and I speak English. All his friends can speak some English, but I told him, it’s his party and I’m in their country, I hardly expect 10 people to sit around struggling to have conversations in English because of me.
He tells me that his friends are like him, but I’m quite confident that they can’t be too much like him, because there is no other man on the planet quite like this one.
I’m experiencing just the smallest bit of turmoil because usually in these situations I would be out shopping for groceries and planning some sort of homey-gourmet-ish food thing. I don’t know these people and he has a different attitude towards food than I do, so when I suggested I make something for this shindig he looked at me and declared that I should be “in the party, having fun.” I tried to get the point across that being the little wifey in the kitchen making things to feed people is what I consider fun, but he doesn’t seem to believe me. Anyway – they’re Czech and in their 20s. They’re thinking pizza and beer. I wanted to think crepe buffet. So he agreed to let me make SOMETHING – I’ll see what kind of pizza recipes I find. OR, we might just stay in bed so long there’s no time for cooking. Ah, well.
This weekend we’re going to brave the crowds and do some Christmas shopping. Usually I avoid such things, but I only have gifts made for him. Since I’ll be spending Christmas with his parents, I need his help finding something for them in the way of gifts. Dear god, I’m buying gifts for the boyfriend’s parents. I don’t think I’ve ever done such a thing. And I sure as hell never LIKED anyone’s parents before but surprisingly, his are wonderful.
Hell is freezing over as we speak.