Being sick with a cold over a holiday weekend creates some massive confusion for me. Not only am I uncertain as to the day of the week (due to being out sick yesterday), but I didn’t even know what day it was until I looked at my clock five minutes ago.

What the hell is today, anyway? Oh, it’s May 31st.

Woah.

That reaction has cost me my “women remember these things” card for a while.

As of today, Erich and I have been together for five years. Five years ago this evening, on a day much like today, I met up with him after work only one block from where I’m currently sitting. I went into that meeting with no hopes, other than to meet someone with whom I’d hopefully develop a good friendship. I was blessed to find something more. Much more.

I’ve never been in a relationship this long, nor this meaningful. And to my surprise, there’s no odd feelings about it. There’s just calm and comfort. While we do have our occasional disagreements, I honestly can’t say that we’ve had a major fight. We communicate. We laugh. We joke around. We share.

It’s life, all healthy-like and stuff.

For the first three years of our relationship, I did have a quiet fear that the other shoe was going to drop– that something horrible would happen, and this amazing relationship would somehow disappear. I’m a natural pessimist, and based on my other relationships (and their attached disfunction in so many ways), I never expected to actually find myself in a position where I wanted to share everything of myself again.

I definitely don’t have those worries any more. I’ve learned to trust, to allow the guards to come down, and to let Erich in. It honestly took a while, but I’m fortunate to have someone who was willing to take the time I’ve needed. I still have hangups and problems I’m working through. I don’t doubt that Erich has a few of his own.

But we’re building a life together. And it’s good. Really good.

My 26-year-old self would have laughed her ass off in disbelief regarding my current life. Engaged. With cats. And more cats. With house.

I’m a bit awestruck by it, honestly. When in the hell did all of this happen?

On Friday, Erich and I had decided we wanted to go to the Mendon Drive-in to see our first movie under the stars for the season. The weather was as perfect as you could get for going to the drive-in… sunny, no humidity, too early for bugs. Can’t beat it. Erich also wanted to make sure that we could get to a fish and chips place down the road from the theater, because it was a childhood favorite. So we got up early Friday morning and drove over to a different commuter rail line, shortening our distance for the evening between the train and the theater.

I’ve discovered that the really good seafood restaurants in New England are nearly all mom ‘n pop places. Nothing fancy—if anything, they honestly look a bit ratty by modern restaurant décor standards. They don’t serve trendy fish at all. They stick to the staples of New England seafood- haddock and/or cod, clams, scallops, shrimp, and lobster. It’s always served fried and comes with fries and tartar sauce. Not all serve slaw, but most do. And the better ones will have malt vinegar available in addition to ketchup for your fries.

The Redwood is one of those places the locals go to every year in season. It’s one of those places that no matter who owns it, the name won’t be changing because it’s one of those gathering places now stuck in the regional dialect. The current owner has his sign: “George’s Surf ‘n Turf” at the top of the sign… but under that, it’s “at the Redwood.” He knows better than to piss off the locals.

It’s an outdoor place. You order at the window, and eat at one of a variety of picnic benches provided. Buckets of sidewalk chalk are provided for the kids, and it is used in abundance. If you’re too lazy to walk to the window—you can order food via car hop. Sit in the parking lot and simply turn your headlights on for service, and one of the teenage girls working for the Redwood will head over to your car (not on roller skates, however—bad idea with the gravel parking lot). Over a heaping plate of tasty fried clam strips, fries, and onion rings, I learned that Erich’s mom worked as a car hop as a teenager.

The Redwood’s business was clearly influenced by the drive-in, too. The closer to dusk, the thinner the crowds became. There was no official close time posted. Opening time was listed on the wall. Chances are, the closing time on the weekends simply depends on the customer volume.

After we’d stuffed ourselves, we packaged the rest of our leftovers and headed back up the road to the theater. As I’ve mentioned in years’ past about Mendon, it’s a twin-screen drive-in tucked off the road in two woodland clearings. The poles that held the speaker boxes of yesteryear are still there, but the entire theater has been converted to FM radio. There’s one building in the center that serves as the snack bar, restrooms, video arcade, and the projector rooms for each screen. The snack bar is decorated like a 50’s diner, and they carry a wide variety of typical diner food (burgers, nachos, jalapeno poppers, etc.) plus the traditional movie fare.

The great thing about the Mendon drive in is the price. It’s twenty bucks a carload for a double feature, and the food is priced at the levels of your average fast food place (as opposed to movie theater prices). So, as you’d expect, it’s a huge family hit. Tons of kids play ball in the empty spaces of the car field before the movie. Parents unroll sleeping bags on the ground in front of their cars for the kids. You’ll see people come in with the kids, a couple two liters, and pizzas and make a campout. As the little kids get tired, they fall asleep comfortably. Some parents solve a couple problems by bringing a portable radio, turning that on for the older kids sitting outside, while the littler ones sleep in silence in the back of the car.

Don’t want to deal with the sound of other patrons? No problem. Just roll up the windows in your car and enjoy the sound of the movie in privacy. You find the sound systems in movie theaters too loud? Again—you control the volume. Want to stretch out? Go ahead—bring lawn chairs, bring an airbed, whatever. As long as every car has a space to fit and you’re not sitting on the top of your car (for safety/liability reasons), everything’s all good. In my opinion, it’s the best way to see a movie.

Friday night’s selection on Screen 1 was Mission Impossible III and Failure to Launch. Screen 2 had a couple of first-run recent movies that I could care less about —I know “RV” was one of them. For some odd reason, Screen 2 appeared to be full. Screen 1 was perhaps three-quarters full. It was a good showing for a Friday night prior to Memorial Day. MI3 was okay. It was Tom Cruise playing Tom Cruise imitating another character—but what else is new with Tom Cruise. At least he wasn’t trying to break Oprah’s couch in the movie. It was a popcorn flick and mindless fun. We were too tired to stay through the second movie, which was no great loss. I’m not a Sarah Jessica Parker fan, personally. We did, however, stay through the original five-minute intermission countdown complete with high-wire balancing candy bars, marching ice cream treats, dancing sodas, and a flipping hot dog (making the appropriately crude comments for the dog wanting to get into the bun). Anyone who has seen the movie Grease will remember said hot dog from what was on the screen during “Stranded at the Drive-In.”

I’m looking forward to going back sometime around July 4th when the possibility of a Pirates of the Caribbean and Superman Returns double feature might grace the screen. I’m still holding my breath for an actual showing of Grease at the drive-in. It would be a blast… if we could even get in the lot.