Strike of the symbols

The morning after, the Prof and I woke up at the Mare e Monti Hotel without ever having the big, important conversation I'd planned.

Here's how I'd thought it would go: I'd say that I would only get PACSed with him if the gesture was going to mean more than paperwork. And then we'd discuss whether or not we wanted to become more serious -- in a symbolic sense, not in an administrative way. If he was okay with not PACSing, but staying together, I'd be cool. And if he was okay with PACSing in a symbolic way, I'd think about it.

But what happened is this: We got back to the hotel with the code we'd been given to get in the side door (the hotel staff knew where we were going and knew that we'd be out late), and I made a serious mistake. While fumbling with the buttons for the code, the Prof and I had both leaned in to make sure that I was entering the numbers correctly (remember, this was after a night of songs and activities surrounding Le Vin de Corse). When I finally got the code, I'd turned around excitedly, not having realized that the Prof was right behind me looking on. With a quick spin and my arms reaching out in triumph, I accidentally punched him in the face.

So, rather than having a lovely little heart-to-heart, we had a napkin-to-upper-lip conversation in the dark of the breakfast room.

The Prof asked me what I'd wanted to say to him.

And all I could say was: "I'm sooo, sooo sorry!"

The morning after next, I guess...

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Present day:

Skiing was great last week. We had beautiful weather and got to stand at the top of one of the mountains with one ski in Italy and the other in France. I think I finally switched from being a snowboarder to being a skier. The two seem to work together in the same way as French and English. The more you practice one, the more you forget the other.