Monday, November 29, 2010

Single No More

We locked up Prof's house for the last time yesterday and brought the rest of his stuff to my house. Our house.

Its done. He's here, and he's not leaving anytime soon.

It seemed so un-ceremonial. We were so busy packing and hauling and packing and goodwilling and storing and unpacking and throwing away and organizing and cleaning that we were too tired to go out on a romantic dinner to commemorate our relationship moving forward.

Instead, on Sunday night when it was all over, I sat at the kitchen table immersed in my research paper, and Prof took over the office working on his research for an upcoming presentation. We ate dinner at 9pm. Me, at the table, with a plate full of fake chicken nuggets. Him, in the living room, with a plate full of veggie buffalo wings (yes, they exist and they are quite good) watching Dexter. On the giant tv. On my giant tv. Well, mine now.

It sucks that we are both so incredibly busy right now. It made the move much more stressful than it needed to be. "Should I unpack this box so I have underwear, or should I do my research?" "Should I take a load of stuff to storage, or should I write a section of my paper?" "Should we keep packing, or get some thanksgiving dinner?"

In a week, it will calm down and we can find a rhythm that works for us. Until then, the boxes that are still unpacked are going to sit, and I'm going to work on my paper.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Final Countdown

This is it. My last night alone in my bed.

Prof is coming over early tomorrow morning to sacrifice himself to the Verizon Fios God, who promises to be here between the hours of 8 and 12 to drill holes in my wall and connect me with tv that has more than 5 channels.

I will go to work when he gets here (I'm not sacrificing myself. Well, not for tv anyway), go to my chiro appointment, then we will begin tearing up his place. We'll sleep there tomorrow night, keep packing on Thanksgiving, maybe grab a bite at my family's place down the street, pack some more and come back to my place with an initial car load of stuff.

Then we get the truck on Friday and start hauling the big stuff.

Then it will be over. Or it will be beginning. Or both. But whatever it is, I'll be glad when Saturday comes.

Its traditional for the person moving in to make breakfast in bed, right?

Thought so.

Please tell Prof.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

They're Baaaaacccccckkkkkkk

The Headaches. They are back.

I was fairly convinced that I had them licked. But I'm down for the count for the second time in 4 days and the frustration and anger and general "its not fair!" is building inside, threatening to explode. If my head doesn't explode first.

Here is what I've been doing for my headaches:

1. Pills. 2000 mg of Magnesium Gluconate daily. And 400 mg of B2 daily. Both are supposed to bind to something to stop headaches.

2. Caffeine. And by caffeine, I mean, very little. No coffee. EVER. My name even got crossed off the coffee collection list at work. I've switched to Earl Grey. Couple cups a day. Seems to give me a small amount of caffeine, but not so much that it triggers a headache. Do you know how shitty it is to have to walk by the delicious organic, chocolaty smelling coffee we get, on my way to the water cooler to dunk my tea bag? Well, I'll bet you can imagine.

3. Chiropractor. I had two separate people recommend her to me, telling me she cured their headaches forever. I've been going weekly for about 2 months, but I'm still having headaches. I was misaligned, and she has been focusing on keeping my Atlas bone where it should be (its the very top vertebrae, and usually out of whack in migraine patients). Now it stays in place, but so does the head pounding.

4. 3-months of birth control. I suspect this is where some of the problem is coming. Its a full moon. My body wants to do what it wants to do, yet there are hormones there that shouldn't be. I went on the pill a long time ago in part to take care of headaches. And it think its both helped and hurt, but, it might be time to stop.

So, something is working, because I have more headache free days than I used to. I used to have a low-grade headache for days and weeks on end. Now, I go days and day when my head feels light and free and happy and clear. On those days, I feel like I can do anything. My energy is high, my focus is sharp, my wit is terrific (ok, i may be exaggerating). Now, its even more frustrating when I have a bad headache, because the contrast from a good day is so great. I felt so awesome yesterday. Today I feel like shit. Hip pain, I can work through. Shoulder pain, I can work through. Snotty nose and sore throat, I can work through. Someone squeezing my head, slight dizziness and nauseousness. Uh-uh. No go. Home on the couch. Feeling sorry for myself.

Again.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Say something positive

It was exceptionally chatty at work today. I did what I could to focus on the couple things I had to get done, then ended up joining in.

Our receptionist, who was been married since the stone ages and is approaching retirement age, had been bitching about her husband for a good portion of the day. Just your general, run of the mill, men can't do anything right kind of complaining. It ended with her telling us that she was going to have to continue to work forever because when he retires, he's going to drive her insane. And our work insanity is apparently far preferable to the insanity she would endure at home.

So, receptionist and co-worker start telling stories of how their husbands piss them off, and then what happens when they do. It all involved throwing shit. Well, throwing things. Fruit, plates, shoes, spaghetti. Nobody actually admitted to throwing real shit, though, I'll bet had it been readily available it would have been lofted into the air in the general direction of either husband.

So, I'm standing there, thinking, "wow. That's going to be me soon. Bitching about Prof, telling stories about how I chucked the remote at his head when he refused to turn Dexter off."

So I said, "Hey! I've got one of those moving in with me in less than a week! Can't you come up with something positive about having a man around?"

There was a very long pause. A perfectly timed, sitcom kind of long pause. Receptionist and co-worker looked at each other, waiting for the other one to come up with something. Co-worker finally came up with this:

"Well. I haven't had to mow the lawn once since I got married."

Ok. Well, that's something, I guess. I pleaded with Receptionist to come up with something better than that. She did, but it was in the wrong direction.

"Well. He can start the lawn mower."

That's helpful.

Since my friends at work let me down (though, it did make me laugh. A lot), why don't you, my internet friends, tell me something positive about having a man live with you? And it can't be about mowing the lawn!

Monday, November 15, 2010

Ten Nights

Ten Nights.

That's how many nights I have left to have my house all to myself. Well, me and the cats. Ten nights of hogging the bed. Ten mornings to hit snooze without feeling guilty. Ten nights of cooking for one. Ten nights of not worrying what time I get home.

In ten days, Prof moves in.

I feel ready, and completely unprepared at the same time. The house is halfway ready - I've cleared out some of my shit to make way for his, but I'm sure I need to do more. We got a storage unit and this weekend we put some of my furniture and bins of crap in. Antiques, grandma china, riding ribbons and my Halloween costumes are all safely locked in our $100/month closet. Goodwill got my electric lawnmower, which I had a lot of trouble parting with, and my guest bed (no more house guests!) and old patio furniture. I'm going to have some serious freakin' Goodwill deductions on my taxes this year.

So, we've made headway on stuff. But moving the stuff is not my problem. My head is the problem. I'm having trouble grasping that he's coming, and never leaving.

Or maybe, I'm not having trouble grasping it - I'm having trouble being excited about it.

I'm looking forward to parts of it, but I'm too experienced to be bubbly and excited about living together. So's he. There's going to be lots of great stuff, but we both know from experience that there are going to be hard times and conflicts. That's what happens when you move into the next phase of your relationship. Its just pretty weird that we are both working so hard to make something happen that neither of us is that excited about.

Or maybe, I just don't get excited about stuff anymore. I mean, I used to get giddy with excitement about eating at Taco Bell and Olive Garden. And going on that big plastic slide at the carnival where you have to wrap yourself in a smelly burlap bag. And getting a postcard. And Jello Pudding Pops. And reading a postcard while eating a Jello Pudding Pop.

Living with Prof is definitely going to be better than postcards and pudding pops. Maybe I should be more excited.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Joint Checking

Last weekend, Prof and I opened a joint checking account.

This should seem like big huge news, since it seems like quite a bit commitment to actually, you know, co-mingle cash. Not to mention the co-mingling of credit reports, which may now forever be bound together, whether Prof and I live happily ever after or not.

I thought I would be freaked out about it, but I'm not. Though, when I found out (re-found out?) that several of my married friends don't have joint checking accounts with their husbands, it gave me pause.

The thing is, I trust Prof. 100%. With his money, and my money. Well, ok, 95% with my money, but you get the picture. He doesn't make outrageous purchases, he pays bills on time, he gets this little text message anytime his checking account gets low, and "low" for him is like 400 dollars. Hello? For me, 400 bucks is flush with cash. 20 is low. Ok, so he could be a little more careful about what he throws in his cart at the grocery store (our last trip to Trader Joe's nearly bankrupted me), but other than that, he's very cautious with money.

Plus, even though he doesn't own a home right now, that fucker has a better credit score than I do. Suck it Verizon! I hate you. I can't pay my bill if you transfer my account and delete the account number I wrote the check for. I also can't pay my bill when your support staff tell me that the account no longer exists and there is nothing they can do to help me.

I still don't really know how this "joint" thing is going to work. For now, I was thinking that we would each put a set amount of money in each month or each paycheck and pay household bills from that. But what's a household bill? Electric, cable and gas clearly qualify. And groceries. But what about my now weekly trips to Target where I spend 100 bucks on cat litter, cleaning supplies and random household junk? What about going out to dinner? Bottles of wine that only I drink? What about a new kayak? It will be in the house, doesn't that make it a household expense?

I still need to have my own account. And I need my paycheck to go there first, so that I can dole money into the joint account rather than the other way. For some reason, this makes me feel like I am still autonomous and independent. Even if I'm really not.

So, tell me, internet friends... How do you pay the bills with your partner?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Circus Election

I was going to write you up a great blog post last night, but then I started watched PBS.

(How often does that happen?)

It seems sort of appropriate that PBS started running a multi-part documentary about the circus the day after election day. I got totally sucked in for two hours of couch time. I gave up all hopes of cleaning, doing homework and being productive and just sat and watched as these people with incredible talents and difficult lives put together a show that makes everyone in the audience forget their problems for a little while. I've never been a big fan of the circus, what with all the elephant and lion mistreatment and all, but this circus used only horses and dogs. And people. And the people were definitely working harder than the animals, so I was ok with it.

In case you also want to be a big dorky PBS viewer like me, check it out here.

In other news, I've been glued to my computer for weeks as the election drew near. I felt guilty because I opted to skip knocking on doors and being a poll greeter for my local candidates this year. Had they lost, my guilt would have weighed on me for a lifetime. Or a week. But hey, I got shit to do, man. I got a boy moving into my house (our house) in 3 weekends.

Holy shit. My stomach just turned as I wrote that.

Anyway, I walked to my polling place on Tuesday, and was filled with the pride that can only come by feeling superior to everyone who drove to the polls. I voted for cap and trade, carbon regulation and big government spending. The least I could do was reduce my weekly carbon output by .0000000001%. I chatted with friends, and stopped at a new locally owned coffee shop on my jaunt home (more superiority from the pride of supporting local businesses). Then my mom called.

She called for several reasons, but mostly to tell me she wasn't voting this year and to list all the reasons she wasn't. Like it was my fault that the candidates exhausted her with their negative ads and rhetoric. She said she didn't know who was running, and they all seemed like assholes and why should she bother. I tried to explain the Citizens United case to her, and convince her that the elections were being bought by corporations and outside interests and that it was her duty to vote. She said it didn't matter who she voted for - things for her were always the same. I wished I could have convinced her differently, but when that woman makes up her mind she can't be swayed.

There is a purpose in me telling you this story, and its this: it was my mother who instilled in me the importance of voting, and now she's given up. I am so disappointed, in her of course, but in the society that has caused this woman to give up. I couldn't really argue with her because she was right. The candidates were largely acting like assholes, and some actually were (are). And I couldn't come up with any argument for her: her life has largely been the same no matter who was in the Oval office, the Senate, or in the Statehouse.

Her total change in course, and apathy, and thinly veiled anger shook me, and confused me.
The fact that I couldn't come up with a piece of legislation or program that had really helped her gave me pause. I hadn't been at such loss for words in a really long time. Its amazing how a few words and opinions from my mother can have such an impact my attitude towards politicians.

Now you know where my attitude on men came from.