baggage's Diaryland Diary

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I Love Her Yeah Yeah Yeah

Remember last Friday when I was trying to second-guess Girl-Unit's preference in romantic weekends?

I had some grand plans, let me tell you. I mean she suggested a medieval night of jousting and drink. She suggested a communion with Catalina Island...

Both were wonderful suggestions-right up there in upper tier of the fun and romantic.

But you know what that Girl-Unit of mine wanted?

Not roses (she grows her own thank you very much).

Not dinner at some gourmet place (she's a hamburger kind of Girl-Unit, she is).

She wanted something hard.

Stone-hard.

Something that doesn't go soft after a few, errr, hours (ahem).

She wanted Rocks.

What? You were thinking I was gonna say something else? Gee. I can't imagine what.

You see, Girl-Unit has a major thing for Rocks-those hard, heavy odd-shaped children of the Earth.

When she was a wee Girl-Unit, her parents would return to their station wagon after an afternoon family picnic to find the backseat full of Rocks-striped, layered, round, flat-a veritable phletora of Stone-Hard Pleasure (Girl-Unit obviously started her search for hard Earthly pleasures at a young age).

Well, not much has changed.

So last Saturday morning, we got in my 4X4, drove out to the middle of nowhere, cranked up the Cowboy Mouth, and proceeded to dump bundles of rock-hard pleasure into the truck bed. After about an hour of this incredibly romantic dance of hot, dusty, seduction-she leaned over and whispered lustily in my ear, "now I could really use a wheelbarrow-a nice strong metal one-preferably French."

OK. Now I was pissed. Home Depot doesn't stock Filipino Wheelbarrows-just American and French.

So, I bought her ze French wheelbarrow (a black one-she refuses to have a blue or red one-too wussy she sez)-went home and, together, we unloaded the rocks and dumped them into the backyard garden.

My job was done at this point. Shooed away like a fly, I promptly retreated into the air-conditioned comfort of the house.

The rest of my day was spent alternately watching DVDs and looking out the kitchen window, watching the Love of My Life arrange her rock collection into a pleasing pattern that looked all at once random and arranged.

The yard, of course, looks amazing. Later that evening, while she was in the shower cleaning off the dust of her day, I strolled out into her garden-surrounded by her vision, creativity, and, well, her rocks.

There is no other quite like My Girl-Unit-this much I know.

6:04 p.m. - 2001-07-05

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