Sin City

Readers, it's been a HAAARRRRD week. I wanted to whinge about it sooner but it was too hard not to say that David has been in Vegas this week on his annual pilgrimage, and I've been single-momming it in San Diego. I never want to tell the internet that I am alone in the house because I've seen Halloween, dontcha know.

So, David left last Sunday morning. Jarrah was in a hurry to drop him at the airport, because she had a birthday party at "Pumpinover" to get to (It's actually called Pump It Up.)

But Jarrah acted strange all day. I thought she was grieving that David had left, but I realize now she might have had a small wog. She was teary and listless and wouldn't eat much except copious amounts of candy and frosting (no cake) at the party. We had a really nice lunch at Sammy's with Stephanie and Nathan, and I tried to ignore the waves of dread that filled me every time I thought about the next few days.

I am nothing if not crafty, so I'd arranged for Nicole to come by when we returned and watch Jarrah while I took myself to a matinee. I lost myself in the swooniness of Shall We Kiss? , in which two couples (one in the story-within-the story) grapple with the consequences of kissing on a whim of desire when their lives are happily established with other partners. Mostly, this involved a whole lot of talking. Did I mention the film is French?

When I got home, Jarrah had a tantrum and put herself to bed, falling asleep instantly. Suddenly, I was alone, with nothing but time. I wandered around the house, cleaning, organizing and postponing the inevitable: going to bed by myself.

Readers, has this phenomenon happened to any of you? You used to do some of your finest sleeping all by yourself, stretched out and snoozing like a princess until the sun's rays flirted with your lashes through the the slats of the blinds? And then you started sleeping with someone else on a more-or-less regular basis, and without ever knowing when exactly it happened, you became physically incapable of shutting your eyes and tuning out the world unless that other person was breathing a few inches away? To take it further, you now find yourself honor-bound to stay alert for the bulk of the night, cell phone under the pillow, hyper-aware of the house's every creak, every passing car, terrorized by the newspaper arriving, vigilant for the moment that an axe murderer will fling open the door and announce, "I am nigh! Let's get busy with this axe-murdering thing!" (Because, you understand, the aforementioned bed partner would totally have handled this situation, holding off said axe murderer with heroic flair.) Or, if you happen to hear a phone ring, you don't answer it, certain that the caller is an axe-murderer, who just wants to give you a heads up that he's on his way over to axe-murder you?

Am I the only one thinking these things?

Below, a list of kvetchs and kvells for the week, before this thing gets any longer:

1. The universe decided that David's absence would be an excellent time to smash all the heat records for April in San Diego. We topped 100 (100!) one day, and it stayed hot straight through the night, so I'd wake up gasping in the still, fetid air. Not that I was waking up very much because...

2. I wasn't really sleeping. See above. The first night I slept about five hours; the second night--maybe three. Shouldn't I have been ready to keel over after the first night? No, I saved that urge for during the day, whens someone was incessantly repeating "Will you have a tea party with my doggies?" At night, I was sitting in bed reading STORItelling, alternately marveling at Tori Spelling's wedding details and clutching my machete.

3. The exterminator came, and I was convinced that I'd be seeing some dead upside-down vermin strewn around my home. Did this happen? No. But I was freaking out about it, and that's enough.

3. Jarrah freaked out when I dropped her at school Monday. I literally had to peel each of her fingers off my leg and run. I called a little while later, and her teacher told me she had written me a letter and now felt much better. See letter above.

4. I had a meeting with my boss. (Actually, she was very nice.)

5. I got an e-mail saying that there were auditions already on Wednesday. Three days notice! I had to scramble to book Nicole again. I knew I was going to be a sorry excuse for a radiant superstar after my husbandless vigil, but the stage waits for no woman.

6. All my roses died. See #1.


Okay, that was the kvetching, for the moment. Here comes the kvelling.

1. Let's hear it for my friends. A special shout-out to Mary, Grace and Stephanie, who re-arranged their midweek schedules, often with difficulty, to provide my child with playdates and me with adult conversation (sometimes the only such I'd had all day) while David was gone. Monday night, Mary and Joy met us for dinner at Red Robin, followed by a steamy stroll around the mall and an impromptu banquet of plastic foods at Pottery Barn Kids. Grace and Julianna came over for Chinese food on Tuesday, and Jules gifted us with a cello recital that blew Jarrah's mind ("Where's MY cello???") And Stephanie and Nathan braved the sub-Artic temps (what the hell was going on with the weather?) at Dino Park for a romp on Wednesday afternoon, including some tree-climbing and sword play with enormous sticks. What did I do to deserve such good friends?

2. Auditions. Maybe I complained about the lack of notice, but I sure was excited to get back to the theater. And it was awesome to see my peeps again.

3. Gossip Girl. They stack up on the DVR (David won't watch) and I got to watch one a night while he was gone. Whee! So good to see Chuck and Blair at it again!

4. Justin Timberlake. Each morning, I pounded out my single parent frustrations on the elliptical to the dulcet tones of SexyBack. Those other guys don't know how to act.

5. Can you believe I didn't drown my sorrows in a tub of Haagen-Daz on the couch even ONCE? Neither can I.

And, I'm happy to say, the man has returned. Per usual, he has no voice at all, and while Jarrah was very happy to see him, this change made her suspicious.

J: Daddy, what happened to your voice?

D: I lost it in Vegas.

J: Well, you better go back and find it, because you don't sound right.

Alas, what is lost in Vegas, stays lost in Vegas. Three days later, he still sounds like an out-of-practice frog.