514 Outfit Post – Summer Fling
I feel like I’m seventeen again, engulfed in that exquisite and all-encompassing feeling of young love. I’m about to marry my sexy best friend, and it feels like a feverish summer fling.
Couple chemistry and day to day norms within a relationship have always fascinated me. I figure that’s why were all so hung up on Kimye, Brangelina, and god knows how many other celebs we’ve assigned hybrid names to. Everyone loves a little look into another’s life, and while I’ve become much more private over the past two years, I thought a little weekend glimpse into our adventures together could make for a neat outer snippet…
Before I start with anything, it’s important you know that each and every day when I get out of bed, my mood turns foul.
Not because I’m not a morning person (even though that’s bang on), but because I have to leave the arms and kisses I snuggle into each and every night. Now before you let out a premature “awww” or “ewww” let me assure you, the moment he tries to roll over when we’re cuddling, is the moment I aggressively let him know about it. Turn-back warnings include drunken slurred grumbles, persistent pokes and nabs, and straight up pulling (I’ve even resorted to guilt-tripping with “you don’t love me’s”). I think his subconscious has pretty flawlessly mastered it now; all it takes is me muttering the slightest sound, and he’ll flip over without breaking sleep stance. I’ve successfully enforced and executed synchronization in this department.
Making my way to work is agonizing. I hate feeling the distance between us get further (despite us not really even being that far away). Every moment at work is a countdown until I get to go home to enjoy our time together.
As soon as the clock hits 5pm, I scutter out of the office. City transportation never gets me home fast enough (at least I don’t have to endure traffic). When I unlock the door to our flat, the man is sleeping. I shed my workwear and snuggle up beside him. Right back where the day started. When we’ve both adequately warmed ourselves up, it’s fry time (in the end, it’s the only thing we end up eating for dinner). I woke up at 5am that morning in an effort to make gluten free grapefruit-glaze donuts (they flopped), and still have a perfectly good pot of frying oil… Naturally, making our own french fries quickly becomes a genius idea I follow through on. After multiple episode mashups of Mad Men and Arrested Development (alongside our Ketchup-dipping antics), we pass out early at 11pm. The evening was truly blissful.
We wake up together in cuddle mode. Then we get a phone call that completely changes what we had in mind for the day. Then we fight. I get ready to leave for the day and try to keep it together. I hate how petty influences manage to completely change the perfect mood we had going just moments before. He leaves to buy coffee. He only comes back with one. I try to take his from him but he’s already finished it all. I scowl at him (how dare he return without my signature soy latte), finish my makeup, and leave to catch the bus. As I leave the building, emotion pours out of me in the form of a text message attack. I throw everything I’m feeling (and a whole lot more) in his face, knowing I’m overreacting but not caring at all. I ditch the bus that never comes on time anyway, and head directly for my missed java jolt. As I leave the cafe with my fix and head down to the end of the block, the man follows behind. I (stubbornly) tell him I’m not waiting for him. We meet at the next bus stop. We yell at each other in public for about ten minutes, I cry and tell him he’s being mean, and we inevitably end up laughing about something that breaks everything back down to nothing again. We get on the bus and start our journey to our first stop.
We arrive at my brother’s house and bring the pooches out to the park. Having realized we both skipped out on breakfast, we hit up the local grocery store for snack fixes and grandpa treats. A few pints of fruit, a massive tin of chocolate chip cookies, and a bag of cheddar popcorn later, we buzz up to see the old man just a few blocks away. By now the tension from the morning has completely melted away, and we’re back to joking around, holding hands, and chit chattering away. We drop in for a quick visit, briefly discuss China’s political state, and swap appreciation for Francis Bacon’s art before heading to the market to replenish our groceries.
One of the main market attractions is a ten pound bag of potatoes (and let’s not forget the organic agave ketchup!). Once we get into something (food-wise especially), we’re hooked. Homemade olive oil and sea salt fries just won’t shake, and it’s time to take full advantage of their deliciousness.
Another phone call triggers the morning’s irritations, and once more we’re back to our brawl. I call him a miserable, mean old man, and he tries to get me to leave without the potatoes or ketchup (as if… there’s a reason Jay Kay helicopters it in in his Seven Days In Sunny June video). I tell him to leave without me. He gets in a cab. He takes off. I text him to turn it around and pick me up (just as I finish with my potato and ketchup purchases). As I leave the store, he’s waiting outside. I get in the cab and we both can’t help but laugh.
(What I’m Wearing – Gap Body maxi skirt, FCUK top, Zara blazer, BCBG t-strap shoes & Longchamp bag)
When we get home, we decide we’re both too hungry to wait for me to whip up a meal from scratch (it’s an instant fix itch), so we head out in search of our favourite ice cream right down the street. No vanilla left for the day (our mutual favourite). Disappointed, we turn back and I cook up some chicken Francese and more of those fries. The man admits that I was indeed right, and he was wrong in the potato/ketchup scenario. After an episode or two of Arrested Development, I tell him I miss him and really want to hang out (do you ever miss the person you’re constantly with, even when you’re with them?), and we sit up in bed and talk until we’ve used up all our energy to mutter another word.
I sneak out of bed to get ready to meet two of my girlfriends for brunch. I repeatedly return to visit my sleeping gorilla, so much so that I wake him up for good. I sneak back under the covers for a few more extended moments of sleepy dazed warmth. Running late, we leave the house together and he drops me off at the restaurant, introducing himself to my friends (while taking the blame for my tardiness) before hooking himself up with coffee for the walk home.
When I get home, we set off to enjoy the warm but windy day together – camera in hand (he promised to help me with an outfit post, the results being the visuals in this post). Walking up the old port to downtown, we snap pictures of each other (him via Canon, me mostly via iPhone) and flirt with capturing movement through the lens. We pick up nuts and dried bean snacks at the health food store and feed pigeons in the square. We wander back to the ice cream shop for another go. Bingo, vanilla’s in the house. We sit outside in lawn chairs, soaking in the rays and listening to kids play an outdoor instalment baby grand piano. I point out all the Bugaboo strollers that pass us by.
Once we’re home I cook up organic veal burgers with (you guessed it), more fries. We inhale our meals while laughing at the Rock’s lines in the latest Fast & the Furious instalment. It’s way too over the top (and we can’t seem to figure out what’s actually going on in the movie anyways). I make a remark about Paul Walker, and he reminds me of his run-in with Eva Mendes. I threaten to get Ryan Gosling to beat him up if he tries anything, he gives me the panicked puppy dog face.
I get in a funk because I know it’s Sunday and the dreaded separation starts all over again the moment I wake. I set my alarm to attempt productivity in the morning, knowing full well I’ll sleep past multiple snoozes for a few extra moments with the man.
Posted under 514 Outfit Post