When you're doing your required pre-marital counseling, one of the things they like to emphasize is compromise, the ever-present give-and-take of a relationship. The thing is, this is all done in rather vague, theoretical terms. They don't tell you what it actually looks like.
One year, one month, and 19 days after saying "I do," I can tell you exactly what it looks like. It looks like me going to a 24-hour car race at Le Mans. And spending the night in our own car. Pretty sure Mrs. Valerie would never have thought to cover this eventuality in our counseling sessions.
But the hubby loves cars. Me? Well, I don't even like driving them. I like living in France because I can walk or take public transit everywhere. But B loves cars. He is an automotive engineer, after all.
We've seen the 24-hour Le Mans race on TV. Or rather, he's seen the race; I've sat on the other end of the sofa with a book and heard the race, along with the dog snoring between us.
But my hubs is the king of patience (you really have to be, to be married to me. I mean, I know my shortcomings). He never complains when I hold up our travel progress with my incessant picture-taking. He never, ever complains when I want to stop and look in a bookstore, poke my head in H&M, or buy another Longchamp purse. So to say I owed this to him is an understatement.
Besides, Patrick Dempsey races at Le Mans. Did I forget to mention that part? I may not be into cars one tiny bit, but I'm into Dr. McDreamy quite a bit. Yes, I'm aware I'm married, thank you, but he's on my list of 5. And my mother loves George Clooney, so apparently being attracted to fictional doctors runs in the family. It was only with a teeny bit of trepidation that I accompanied my husband to this race.
It was actually kind of fun, although I do wish we had bought the tickets that actually included seats in the stands. It was a LOT of walking and standing. Several of you know we are fairly obsessive about monitoring our steps each day. Well, in 24 hours (mostly on Saturday and a little on Sunday) we both got something north of 35,000 steps. My feet are definitely feeling it. And on Saturday, it was HOT. We are all a little sunburned now (I actually got color. Red is a color, right?).
Sadly, I did not get to see Dr. McDreamy, although this was not for lack of trying on my part. Our fellow race-goers must have thought I was an owl - a very demented owl. I was constantly turning my head, looking in every direction, everywhere we went, just in case he happened to be walking by. But I never got that lucky. Maybe next year.
However, he did get lucky - Porsche, the team he races for, won. So yay for Patrick! Not so much for me, unfortunately. Maybe I'll just see if Grey's Anatomy is on Netflix...which is what I potentially should have done for 24 hours instead of attend the race. Ahhh, life experiences...and compromise. ;)
E & B