I did mean to be a little more diligent about updating this blog but I was still settling into a newly arranged apartment and then work came up and then, well, I just lost the plot. The same thing happened with all the Christmas presents I bought, wrapped, labeled, and even packed into shipping bags/boxes but then put off actually sending for three months- at this point, I am just bringing them with me to the States in May. What's a few more months?
I'm choosing to think of it this way: I was waiting until my living situation was stable before I wrote an update. And settled it has. In case you hadn't heard, Etienne moved in after Amanda moved out, going from a somewhat tense living situation, to romantic cohabitation in the space of two short weeks. I moderator on a relationship forum, where questions about cohabitation are rife, so I think I put more thought into it than I needed to. I caught myself musing over how to deal with shared laundry and splitting chores and deciding how to decorate and so forth- often very stupid, meandering questions that served no purpose. When it came down to it, the thought of having someone else in my space, after having some pretty negative experiences over the past year, made me construct ramshackle, unsteady rules and boundaries meant to keep me safe; really, I should have turned my attention to how much easier and more fun it would be to have my boyfriend living with me.
There's no way to hide it- the first month or so was pretty grueling as I fought to keep up my listing boundaries against the confrontation of another person and as he did the same with his own boundaries. I'm certain the neighbors heard us yelling at each other and slamming doors just as often as they smelled food cooking in the kitchen. Reflecting our chaotic existence, the apartment was a shambles of second hand furniture, empty boxes, and piles of unsorted belongings. It was not the best way to live.
But it evened out slowly. We settled into a living pattern consisting of waking up, going to work, someone cooking dinner upon returning home, and watching Dexter on DVD. We bought furniture, including the sofas I have been obsessing over on facebook, and have arranged it in a pleasing and comfortable manner. We keep separate bedrooms- the way kings and queens, lords and ladies, used to do hundreds of years back- but usually sleep with the doors open and "visit" each other, though without the stiff formality seen between Tudor kings and queens. Some days are better than others, though, so the new neighbors hear fights only slightly less occasionally than their predecessors.
I guess that is my way of saying that it is working. I don't really know how because by all rights I should have run him off with my obstinacy and he should have exhausted me with his antics and peculiarities. But I can't really reflect on this much more, it's stopped making sense to me. It is what it is, and for now, that will have to do.
I'm choosing to think of it this way: I was waiting until my living situation was stable before I wrote an update. And settled it has. In case you hadn't heard, Etienne moved in after Amanda moved out, going from a somewhat tense living situation, to romantic cohabitation in the space of two short weeks. I moderator on a relationship forum, where questions about cohabitation are rife, so I think I put more thought into it than I needed to. I caught myself musing over how to deal with shared laundry and splitting chores and deciding how to decorate and so forth- often very stupid, meandering questions that served no purpose. When it came down to it, the thought of having someone else in my space, after having some pretty negative experiences over the past year, made me construct ramshackle, unsteady rules and boundaries meant to keep me safe; really, I should have turned my attention to how much easier and more fun it would be to have my boyfriend living with me.
There's no way to hide it- the first month or so was pretty grueling as I fought to keep up my listing boundaries against the confrontation of another person and as he did the same with his own boundaries. I'm certain the neighbors heard us yelling at each other and slamming doors just as often as they smelled food cooking in the kitchen. Reflecting our chaotic existence, the apartment was a shambles of second hand furniture, empty boxes, and piles of unsorted belongings. It was not the best way to live.
But it evened out slowly. We settled into a living pattern consisting of waking up, going to work, someone cooking dinner upon returning home, and watching Dexter on DVD. We bought furniture, including the sofas I have been obsessing over on facebook, and have arranged it in a pleasing and comfortable manner. We keep separate bedrooms- the way kings and queens, lords and ladies, used to do hundreds of years back- but usually sleep with the doors open and "visit" each other, though without the stiff formality seen between Tudor kings and queens. Some days are better than others, though, so the new neighbors hear fights only slightly less occasionally than their predecessors.
I guess that is my way of saying that it is working. I don't really know how because by all rights I should have run him off with my obstinacy and he should have exhausted me with his antics and peculiarities. But I can't really reflect on this much more, it's stopped making sense to me. It is what it is, and for now, that will have to do.
To be continued... :)
ReplyDelete