NYC Apartment the Third

Holy growing up, Batman!

I am moving into an apartment with my boyfriend.

We are signing the lease in one hour's time.

We (we? we!) will soon be residents of Hell's Kitchen.

Funny. We hadn't ever talked about seriously living together until last weekend, which means that it took us precisely 5 days to make sure sure sure that we will be good at living together, find and then secure an apartment. We spent so much time discussing who would sell what, which was a waste of time because our new fabulous apartment is big enough to have everything! Our new fabulous apartment has enough cabinet space for me to finally inherit my mother's pasta maker! Our new fabulous apartment has enough living room space for us to have 30 people over! Our new fabulous apartment has a bedroom in the back that will allow me to, finally, sleep! Our new fabulous apartment has like four drawers in the kitchen! Two normal size closets and one double closet! A working fireplace! Laundry in the basement!

Now all we have to go is conjure up an obscene amount of money, get keys, sand brick, change addresses, collect boxes, move a piano, and voila! Grown ups.

It's funny. My main concern right now is that my tax refunds and Canon rebates will be sent to the wrong address. But I guess that makes sense when you're about to give thousands of dollars to sketchy realtors.

Oh man. D just called. We're off to sign a lease! I am going to throw up, but its awesome! Weeeee!

Peter Pan

Last night I was forced to say, in spite of my darling boyfriend's sudden wish to communicate all things, "D, can we please stop talking about this? I'm totally freaking out."

I said this because I was totally freaking out.

I felt like my chest was constricting, and when I wasn't focused on that, I felt like I was going to throw up. Earlier in the evening, D said "Look, this is serious for me. It's like getting married. Seriously. If we do this and we move in together, I want to keep doing it forever. This is a big deal for me."

"Dude, it's a big deal for me too. This is a big deal. This is a really big deal. I mean, this is the biggest deal thus far in life. It's a big deal. Really really big."

I then met up with some friends for tapas and girl talk. I explained how cute D was when he said "forever" and then one of the girls said "But aren't you freaking out?" "Of course I am freaking out!" I said. She responded with "I did this once, I lived with someone, and I ended up leaving. I was really freaked out."

I can't pinpoint the exact cause of my inability to eat today.

I think it is a combination of no longer living alone (and how I adore living alone!), no longer being independent, entering into a living situation involving oh so much compromise and particularity (we had a mini-debate about shower curtain rings last night! I said "The only way this can work out is if the shower in the new apartment has a sliding door" and I think I may have been serious), total and complete life change, geographic change, social change, change change change change and then there's the whole forever thing. Forever! Wtf!?

This has nothing to do with D, of course. I am wondering if I am just not the sort of person who can commit to things. Big decisions freak me out. Things without built-in exit clauses freak me out.

I ran into D at work and he said "Look, just so you know, I'm freaking out too. But just on the inside."

"Look," I said. "If we want to eventually be together with a... ahem... you know... like a kid or family or whatever... we have to live together. We can't live alone and have a baby together. We have to grow up. Why is this so scary? We have to figure out why this is scary and make it un-scary."

I wonder if this is one of the reasons D and I work so well together. Neither him nor I want to grow up. We both want to theoretically grow up and have property and a nice bed and fabulous cutlery and weird kids, but neither of us wants to do what it takes to have those things.

This is a big step for both of us. In theory we want to live together, and it seems like the right thing to do financially and in order for things to progress and in order to save time and to not plan and to not have to carry a bag around at all times and to be able to go home every day and read the mail, but living together!

And decorating together! Will this work?

I'm sort of thinking this is not a good idea but I'm not sure why. What if I never want to move in with anyone?

I had dreams all night about ex-boyfriends, especially the one who is most loathed, and in the dreams I was happy to see him.

D and I spend so much time together. We do things together. We basically live together, but it is more like having a summer and winter home and sometimes one of us is at the winter home in the summer.

What am I afraid of?

Will things really change?

Or will it basically be the same, but easier, with unexpected challenges like finding silence to talk on the phone or play piano? Is it worse than having any other roommate? Is it better?

Ugh. After D said he was freaking out and that he felt like he was going to throw up, he called to say that he made an appointment with a realtor tomorrow night.

Maybe it's the pacing. I just found out on Sunday that he thought we were moving in together. It's only Tuesday! Maybe I just need time to adjust.

I know that he won't care if I change my mind.

I'm just afraid that I'll care, because I'll start doubting everything.

OK.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

More later.

Spring! Not Here!

It is snowing. Lots.

That is all.

How To Make Fondue - A Photo Essay

Since you've been reading about the fondue saga non-stop, here are some photos from the fondue set's virgin run! Woooo!

Appeal

I was thinking about Clive Owen, as I tend to do, before falling asleep last night, and couldn't stop thinking about how appealing he is.

He is someone with mass and, I'd venture to guess, universal appeal. D, out of the blue on Sunday, said "Clive Owen is a class act. He's classy."

True.

The same is true with George Clooney. Everyone loves him. Men, women, gay, straight, everyone.

I started to think about the nature of appeal, and how certain men possess this sort of mass and universal appeal. I don't know what that means. What are the qualities that make someone attractive to everyone? Is it class? Looks? Vibe?

I then tried to come up with a similar female.

Is there a female figure right now who appeals equally, and universally, to both men and women?

I couldn't think of anyone.

The closest I got was Scarlett Johansson.

This theory is disproved, however, but D, who doens't like Scarlett Johansson, which annoys me, because she is awesome.

Perhaps Claire Danes? Parker Posey? Terri Hatcher?

A lot of men love Natalie Portman and most women hate her.

There's no common denominator for female appeal. It's much more subjective, I think, than masculine appeal. What men find attractive sometimes annoys women. A prime example is Natalie Portman. And don't get me wrong - there are plenty of thoughtful men out there who dislike Natalie Portman (incidentally, a FIGHT broke out about this at my party on Saturday night), but I think that most of her fans are men.

So - can anyone think of the female version of George Clooney or Clive Owen? Is my failure to come up with anyone a sign that there are just no good, "classy" roles for women? Can a woman not be considered hot and classy at the same time?

I don't know.

I should just stop thinking and fall asleep after I've thought about Clive Owen.

Spring Forward (Alternate Title: I Am A Tool)

The weekend was good. Real good. So good, in fact, that I am a zombie today. I am the sort of zombie today who drops and then breaks things. People will say "Why did you drop it?" "Because I was holding it." "Did you bump into something?" "No, I was just sitting there, holding it in my hand, and I guess I forgot I was holding it or something so I dropped it. And it shattered. Because I'm a tool."

It started off splendidly, with Friday night designated as make-up-sleep night. After Willem Dafoe saw me, I headed home and wrote a song (that I did not record yet), ate some cavatelli (yay new supermarket!), watched Junebug (why didn't anyone tell me it would make me cry?), read for a spell, closed my eyes and was asleep by 11:15.

I spent Saturday morning at the galleries with a friend from my old photography class and her current photography class, and decided that I should never go to galleries with other people. We saw some interesting stuff, but we could have seen 10x the amount of stuff had the pace of viewing been more accelerated. I hope to go back this weekend to check out some stuff that looked rather splendid through windows.

Because of the slow pace, I dismissed myself before they had finished their tour and begin wandering aimlessly around in search of a birthday cake for D. I was defeated by my own hunger, and settled for canolis.

D came over and after I gave him the remainder of his birthday gift, we headed over to Port Authority to meet the kids for his bowling birthday party! We had a lovely time and then headed over to my apartment for a party.

Party! At my microscopic apartment!

I volunteered to host the party because (a) I have more seating and (b) I have a bigger apartment and (c) I have wine glasses and (d) I live near bowling so I figured we'd have more momentum going to my apartment than we would going to D's and (e) I don't think it is ideal for someone like D, who is very neat and clean and organized etc., to deal with the stress of having people over to his apartment on his birthday.

I think there were 11 people there, and apparently 11 people fit in my apartment! Armed with this knowledge, I want to have parties all the time. I'm sure I could cram 20 in, although there would not be room for another dance party to break out.

I danced on the couch. My calves hurt the next day.

Aside from R's fingerprints on my camera lens and the breaking of one wine glass that somehow resulted in my entire apartment becoming sticky and littered with grimey footprints, the party was a raging success. People were very drunk but only slightly misbehaved. We played silly songs on the piano and rocked the old school hip hop. We drank tequila (well, I stayed away from the tequila and drank some fruity Smirnoff thing instead) and told and then reenacted lame jokes.

People left at around midnight and I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned some more. I didn't want there to be a single footprint remaining.

I didn't sleep well. Drunk sleep doesn't count. It's as though I didn't sleep at all. I woke up too early, hung over, head pounding and stomach distressed.

I tried to read but couldn't concentrate. I got out my computer to look for apartments and was confused when the time on the computer didn't match the clock in my living room. I immediately blamed R, who was a mess at the party, so somehow changing the clock. Then I thought "Wait a second... when is daylight saving?"

In the past I've been confused as to how people could not know about daylight saving. How out of touch could people be? How could you not know?

Well, yeah, I didn't know. At all. I had no idea. Hadn't heard even a rumbling. Hadn't read about it. No clue. So embarrassing.

D and I scrambled to make it to the movies, since we were running later than we thought. As we ran, I said "Umm... hey...D... you know how you keep talking about the new apartment that I'm looking for? And how you keep saying where you'd like to live and is it going to be enough space for both of us and... well... are we moving in together?" "Well, yeah." "Like this summer?" "Well, yes, that's what I thought." "Oh." "Are you nervous?" "No, actually, I'm really excited."

I love how boys assume the best.

We ran to see Inside Man, which was amazing. Where has Clive Owen been all my life? I like Spike Lee. D does not. D finds him to overt, but I like the theatricality of his movies. And Willem Dafoe, my new best friend, was in it.

I walked home through the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market but didn't look at anything because it was too sunny. Awesome!

At home, I alternated nap time with cleaning-off-my-hard-drive time. I only have a few gig left and my computer is freaking out. It might be time for an external hard drive. All of these photos really add up.

I then headed to D's, where cheese fondue was being cooked.

It tasted like real, restaurant fondue. Now we just have to figure out how not to burn it.

We watched History of Violence after staring at a for-sale Galaxie 500 on the street and fantasizing about its becoming "the family car."

Before falling asleep, we talked more about the car and money and big, scary purchases and big, scary decisions.

I woke up this morning feeling, again, like I hadn't slept at all. Springing forward is a pain, especially when you are hung over and delirious and turning into a zombie. I am going to go home tonight and continue with the hard drive project, after which I will go to bed at 9:00, which will actually be like 8:00! Woo!!!!

Willem Dafoe Saw Me!

I snuck out of work early on Friday night to accompany D on his mission to find burner gel whatever for the new fondue set.

As we walked down Wooster Street, I told D about our coworker who was visiting his girlfriend's brother in Boston this weekend. With animation, I ranted on behalf of our colleague who was going to be forced to sleep on an air mattress in a separate room from his girlfriend because of her brother's religious tendencies.

Mid-rant, I saw someone walking towards us who I thought I recognized.

It was Willem Dafoe! What a great sighting!

I continued my story so as not to seem too obvious, but couldn't help staring at him. As we crossed paths, I continued to stare at him and HE STARED BACK AT ME, in scary Willem Dafoe style. His eyes got small and he snarled, and he stared me down! He won as I looked away.

Scary! But awesome.

I heart Willem Dafoe, but he apparently hates me.

I don't hold it against him. I went to see Inside Man yesterday and was happy to find that my friend Willem was in it.

I think this was my favorite being-sighted-by-a-celebrity thus far.

Spring!

I know that spring is here because the cheap fresh fruit stand has re-materialized outside the building. Woo! Cheap bananas! Spring is here!