I hate moving with a passion. Maybe if I didn't have to move every single freaking year I wouldn't hate it quite as much. But this coming weekend I'll be moving for--wait for it--the NINTH time since starting college. My impulse is just to throw everything out and start over again. If only I had the budget and fiscal irresponsibility to do that.
Luckily I've got some overlap in leases which means I can move in stages, which takes some of the pressure off, but it also stretches the damn thing out for another week. I'm ready just to get it over with! Whenever I start thinking about having to move, I either get angry, usually at least a little at SCL, or I start throwing shit into boxes. I've got the U-Haul all rented for Saturday morning, so I'll probably be spending the 4th of July unpacking. Awesome.
This is so not where I thought my life would be. I know I need to just get over it, but I can't help but feel disappointed. This time last year I thought I'd be rocking an engagement ring this summer. That was the plan.I like plans, especially the rare one that happens to work out the way I'd hoped. This morning I was dozing and I was thinking how long we'll go on like this, living separately with roommates. The thought of doing that for the next four years--and maybe beyond--is inconceivable to me.
I can't help in this moment but to resent SCL a bit for putting me through another move and all the disappointment attached to it. I know things will all work out one way or another, but right now I just want to be a bit pissed off. And throw everything away. I should've gotten professional movers...
Extrovert, Meet Introvert
I had not one but two birthday celebrations this past week. I know that sounds excessive, but the second was a joint bash with my best friend from college. He'd hired a cover band to play at one of his favorite bars, and since his birthday is the day after mine, he invited me to come and bring my friends. So I doubled up the evite guest list and came ready to party.
Remember the needy girl I described who is lacking in the social skills area? Before our party was to begin, I get a call from her. Not only is she already at the party venue, but she has come straight from the airport and has her large suitcase in tow. At a bar. On a Friday night. Meanwhile I'm in the middle of having dinner with my friend. Ay yay yay. Anyway, it all ended up being fine but not exactly the fun beginning to the evening I was looking for.
Once I had a few drinks (mostly purchased by my awesome friends!) and the band started playing, I was getting into the party spirit and dancing like a crazy person. SCL, on the other hand, was not. This is not surprising. SCL is an uber introvert and prefers playing trivia in a small group than standing in the middle of a crowded bar. I can't really blame him--in fact, if it hadn't been my birthday, I probably would've felt similarly. My birthday buddy's group of friends is a bit on the douchey side, and for the first part of the night they dominated the crowd.
At around midnight, SCL said he wanted to go home. A few months ago this would've bothered me a lot. I used to think we needed to come and go together to things like this, and I may have thought, "Ok, then I'll go home, too." But this was my party, and a lot of my friends were still there. I didn't want to go home! SCL said he'd wait up for me, so I kissed him good-bye and went on dancing without him.
When I got home, he was, in true SCL form, watching Star Trek. Classic. We both sat down with a hunk of that delicious chocolate birthday cake and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. I'm seeing that I don't need SCL by my side all the time to have fun. In fact, there are times when it's more fun to be by myself. And I'm also learning that just because SCL doesn't dance like a crazy person, that doesn't mean he wasn't having a good time. So, he and I are different. A lot different. But at the end of the night, he's the one I want to have cake with.
Remember the needy girl I described who is lacking in the social skills area? Before our party was to begin, I get a call from her. Not only is she already at the party venue, but she has come straight from the airport and has her large suitcase in tow. At a bar. On a Friday night. Meanwhile I'm in the middle of having dinner with my friend. Ay yay yay. Anyway, it all ended up being fine but not exactly the fun beginning to the evening I was looking for.
Once I had a few drinks (mostly purchased by my awesome friends!) and the band started playing, I was getting into the party spirit and dancing like a crazy person. SCL, on the other hand, was not. This is not surprising. SCL is an uber introvert and prefers playing trivia in a small group than standing in the middle of a crowded bar. I can't really blame him--in fact, if it hadn't been my birthday, I probably would've felt similarly. My birthday buddy's group of friends is a bit on the douchey side, and for the first part of the night they dominated the crowd.
At around midnight, SCL said he wanted to go home. A few months ago this would've bothered me a lot. I used to think we needed to come and go together to things like this, and I may have thought, "Ok, then I'll go home, too." But this was my party, and a lot of my friends were still there. I didn't want to go home! SCL said he'd wait up for me, so I kissed him good-bye and went on dancing without him.
When I got home, he was, in true SCL form, watching Star Trek. Classic. We both sat down with a hunk of that delicious chocolate birthday cake and stayed up into the wee hours of the morning. I'm seeing that I don't need SCL by my side all the time to have fun. In fact, there are times when it's more fun to be by myself. And I'm also learning that just because SCL doesn't dance like a crazy person, that doesn't mean he wasn't having a good time. So, he and I are different. A lot different. But at the end of the night, he's the one I want to have cake with.
Get Me Out of This Chocolate Cake Coma
Instead of getting me a gift for my birthday, SCL made me homemade chocolate cake from scratch with three scrumptious layers of nearly flourless dark chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting. The thing has more than a pound of dark chocolate and I don't even want to know how much butter.
I have a confession: my relationship is making me fatter. Normally I hate talking about weight because I think we all obsess about it too much, but I can't overlook this sudden change in my own body. When SCL and I were broken up, I dropped about five pounds, probably because I was feeling down. But normally I'm an emotional eater, which leads me to think a break-up would actually cause me to eat more. When I decided to hop on a scale a few days ago, I was shocked to see I'd gained almost all of my break-up weight loss.
Some of this, I think, was due to that week on the road. But I can't overlook that SCL and I don't have good eating habits together. We eat a lot of homemade pizza, and we both have an affinity for chocolate. I think we do better apart, but together we're a diet disaster. Maybe it'll be better when we've totally separated our groceries. But we're such bad influences on each other when we eat a meal together.
Did you pack on the pounds when you started dating your significant other? Has anyone managed to get them off? And how do you change your habits together? I need some advice.
I have a confession: my relationship is making me fatter. Normally I hate talking about weight because I think we all obsess about it too much, but I can't overlook this sudden change in my own body. When SCL and I were broken up, I dropped about five pounds, probably because I was feeling down. But normally I'm an emotional eater, which leads me to think a break-up would actually cause me to eat more. When I decided to hop on a scale a few days ago, I was shocked to see I'd gained almost all of my break-up weight loss.
Some of this, I think, was due to that week on the road. But I can't overlook that SCL and I don't have good eating habits together. We eat a lot of homemade pizza, and we both have an affinity for chocolate. I think we do better apart, but together we're a diet disaster. Maybe it'll be better when we've totally separated our groceries. But we're such bad influences on each other when we eat a meal together.
Did you pack on the pounds when you started dating your significant other? Has anyone managed to get them off? And how do you change your habits together? I need some advice.
Wine is My Truth Serum
Thanks again to everyone for the lovely birthday wishes! Although it started off slow, I kicked it into high gear when the sun went down. I spent the night at my favorite gay karaoke bar, singing with a sparkly top hat on my head. Of course with that accouterment, the only appropriate things to sing were show tunes. "All that Jazz" was a big hit, and redeemed my not getting picked for the local production of Chicago. Those mofos didn't know what they were missing!
Earlier that evening SCL and I had a delicious meal at a little Italian restaurant in Old Town Alexandria. That was the first time we'd been out anywhere for weeks. The tension of not knowing where we stand is with me all the time, and even though it was my birthday, last night was no exception. I had been quite a little snit earlier in the day when we talked on the phone briefly. When he didn't immediately say "Happy Birthday," I kind of jumped down his throat. I've gotten into this pattern of reading into every single little thing he does or doesn't do, and it comes back to bite me in the butt.
While this had been an overreaction, it was an entree into talking about how I feel about our situation currently, aided by the half bottle of Pinot grigio I had downed at that point. I apologized for the earlier incident, though stood my ground that I had felt snubbed. He told me I read into things too much. I retorted, "Yes, I do. That's because I don't know what you're thinking!"
And then I went into a wine-induced rant about how I was worried about the future, that he could walk away at any second, and I am constantly thinking what every little thing means. I told him that I'm trying to give him the space and time he needs, but I don't want to do so at the cost of tending to my own needs. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when of getting married, but really the only way I want to be with him is if we're moving in that direction. Yikes, the wine is truly my truth serum.
Then I finally quit talking, and it was his turn. He told me that he loves me and that he focuses on his hang-ups too much, like when we'd get married and his family. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when so much, and while I could try harder with his parents, I can't change the way they feel. And then I blurted out, "I think they'd be an issue no matter what woman you were in a relationship with because they can't let you go." Perhaps that was taking it a bit too far. Again, I blame the wine.
I didn't get any answers, but now SCL knows for real what it is I want in our relationship--and that I'm not going to settle for just anything he'll give me. And later on in the evening when he got up to sing "Private Eyes" at the gay karaoke bar, I was reminded of how much I do want him around now...and for good.
Earlier that evening SCL and I had a delicious meal at a little Italian restaurant in Old Town Alexandria. That was the first time we'd been out anywhere for weeks. The tension of not knowing where we stand is with me all the time, and even though it was my birthday, last night was no exception. I had been quite a little snit earlier in the day when we talked on the phone briefly. When he didn't immediately say "Happy Birthday," I kind of jumped down his throat. I've gotten into this pattern of reading into every single little thing he does or doesn't do, and it comes back to bite me in the butt.
While this had been an overreaction, it was an entree into talking about how I feel about our situation currently, aided by the half bottle of Pinot grigio I had downed at that point. I apologized for the earlier incident, though stood my ground that I had felt snubbed. He told me I read into things too much. I retorted, "Yes, I do. That's because I don't know what you're thinking!"
And then I went into a wine-induced rant about how I was worried about the future, that he could walk away at any second, and I am constantly thinking what every little thing means. I told him that I'm trying to give him the space and time he needs, but I don't want to do so at the cost of tending to my own needs. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when of getting married, but really the only way I want to be with him is if we're moving in that direction. Yikes, the wine is truly my truth serum.
Then I finally quit talking, and it was his turn. He told me that he loves me and that he focuses on his hang-ups too much, like when we'd get married and his family. I told him that I'm not fixated on the when so much, and while I could try harder with his parents, I can't change the way they feel. And then I blurted out, "I think they'd be an issue no matter what woman you were in a relationship with because they can't let you go." Perhaps that was taking it a bit too far. Again, I blame the wine.
I didn't get any answers, but now SCL knows for real what it is I want in our relationship--and that I'm not going to settle for just anything he'll give me. And later on in the evening when he got up to sing "Private Eyes" at the gay karaoke bar, I was reminded of how much I do want him around now...and for good.
Happy Birthday to Me!: Reflections on This Year
Today is my 27th birthday! I have a fun evening planned of dinner with SCL, homemade chocolate cake (SCL's creation), and karaoke with my Glee-watching friends (got to find something to do on those Tuesday nights now that the show is done). I though it'd be interesting to do a reflection on the past year because so much has changed.
Just about a year ago, I was living in Connecticut, finishing up my fellowship and preparing to move to DC to start my new job and move into my new apartment with SCL. We moved in together and began looking at rings. I learned to adjust to a smaller paycheck and struggled to adjust to living in a new city. And it only took a few months for me to realize I hated my job and went looking for another one. I got pretty discouraged in the process until my dream job came along.
After about six months of living together SCL and I struggled to resist falling into a pattern of living like roommates. I worried about having a lot more money than him. I began to spending a lot more time doing work-related things. We broke up. I went to therapy. I started to get over it. I danced on a bar and took my anger out on some of SCL's things. Then he came back to me. I found my own place to live. I stood up to SCL when his behavior sucked. I'm still learning to listen to my gut and saying goodbye to our apartment.
I can't even begin to wrap my mind around how much my life and my expectations about my life have changed. If you'd asked me on my 26th birthday what I thought I'd be doing on my 27th, I would never have said moving out of my apartment with SCL (with no ring on my finger to boot). At the same time, I never thought I'd have such an amazing job with all signs looking like I'll be able to get a second year of funding, not to mention a second part-time consultant job on the horizon. The work front has exceeded any expectation I'd had while my personal life has confused the hell out of me. I'm learning I'm blessed to have the former at all.
But I've also learned again that I am strong as hell and nothing will break me, even if my heart breaks. Who knows what the next year will bring. Maybe SCL will grow up. Maybe we'll grow apart. Maybe my work will take me 6,000 miles away from DC. Whatever it is, I can handle it, especially with my blog friends here to cheer me on.
Just about a year ago, I was living in Connecticut, finishing up my fellowship and preparing to move to DC to start my new job and move into my new apartment with SCL. We moved in together and began looking at rings. I learned to adjust to a smaller paycheck and struggled to adjust to living in a new city. And it only took a few months for me to realize I hated my job and went looking for another one. I got pretty discouraged in the process until my dream job came along.
After about six months of living together SCL and I struggled to resist falling into a pattern of living like roommates. I worried about having a lot more money than him. I began to spending a lot more time doing work-related things. We broke up. I went to therapy. I started to get over it. I danced on a bar and took my anger out on some of SCL's things. Then he came back to me. I found my own place to live. I stood up to SCL when his behavior sucked. I'm still learning to listen to my gut and saying goodbye to our apartment.
I can't even begin to wrap my mind around how much my life and my expectations about my life have changed. If you'd asked me on my 26th birthday what I thought I'd be doing on my 27th, I would never have said moving out of my apartment with SCL (with no ring on my finger to boot). At the same time, I never thought I'd have such an amazing job with all signs looking like I'll be able to get a second year of funding, not to mention a second part-time consultant job on the horizon. The work front has exceeded any expectation I'd had while my personal life has confused the hell out of me. I'm learning I'm blessed to have the former at all.
But I've also learned again that I am strong as hell and nothing will break me, even if my heart breaks. Who knows what the next year will bring. Maybe SCL will grow up. Maybe we'll grow apart. Maybe my work will take me 6,000 miles away from DC. Whatever it is, I can handle it, especially with my blog friends here to cheer me on.
This Old Apartment
"Can I stay over?" It felt like a silly question for SCL to ask me, seeing as how this is still technically his apartment.
We had both had full days--he'd been with his family in Maryland, and I'd been painting and prepping for my own big move in about two weeks. We'd only seen each other a few hours here and there over the weekend, something that we're still trying to get used to. A few months ago the weekend was definitely time that we shared together, usually in our apartment playing Mario Kart and drinking wine.
I didn't sleep well next to SCL. Part of me was kind of excited that he was there (we haven't slept in the same bed for months now), and part of me just wasn't used to him anymore. Isn't that crazy? For nearly two years we've shared the same bed practically every night, and after less than two months of separation, nearly all of that familiarity was gone.
I admitted to him that at first I'd enjoyed having the bed to myself. I tend to be a semi-violent sleeper, tossing and turning and talking in my sleep and (accidentally) hitting SCL in the face. But just last week as I was drifting off, I realized how lonely it felt to fall asleep alone. I missed falling asleep next to SCL's warmth and his occasional soft snoring.
SCL's been so big about having his space, demarcated particularly by his sleeping in his own bed, that I was pretty surprised he wanted to stay with me in our old apartment. I think it was partly that he didn't feel like walking home, but there was a part of him that was reminiscing about the time we'd had together in this space. For both of us, despite the ups and downs, we have fond memories of this place. It's going to be bittersweet giving it up.
I wonder if we'll ever share a space together again.
Quality vs. Quantity Time Together
When SCL and I went to therapy that one time, we talked about our expectations in terms of time together, though not too specifically. I think we said something along the lines of seeing each other a couple times a week, which sounded reasonable at the time. But to go from living together to seeing each other twice a week would be quite the adjustment.
I can’t really say that we have a pattern yet since it’s been less than 3 weeks since SCL moved, and a week and a half of that time I was out of town. But so far this week we’ve seen each other every day for a few hours, except for yesterday. With SCL presenting a paper at a conference and my own occupation with a grant proposal and a schmoozy networking dinner, the day went by without even a phone call.
And you know, it was fine. I didn’t even think about it until I sat down to write this post. What I don’t know is if I’m prepared for how many of our days will be like yesterday. When we were still in New Haven, we had dinner together nearly every evening. So to think about having days go by with no interaction is challenging because we’ve never really done it before. I’m uncertain as to what that will mean for us growing together as a couple. Is the amount of time important?
I think in a lot of ways the cultural focus on “quality time” is kind of a crock of shit, even though I find myself playing into it. I think to myself yeah, we won’t have as much time together, but the time together we will have will be more intentional and therefore more meaningful. So far I can’t say that’s been true. It’s just that we now have a fragment of the normal time we’d spend together, usually making dinner, catching up about the day, and watching Jeopardy. And then we part ways.
Maybe this backing off and slowing down is what we need for now, but I can’t help but think that over time this will contribute to a stagnation in our growth as a couple. Of course it’s too soon to make judgments about that, but it is something I’m thinking about and wondering about. And having quantity is just as important as quality to me.
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