I am tired and fighting off a cold with all my strength and willpower. I miss blogging, and yet haven't been able to mostly because by the time I get to sit down at night with a laptop and notwork, my thoughts are mostly incoherent and typing is hard because it requires wiping all that drool off the keyboard.
So I dunno, let's make a list of things I'm thinking but not writing about. HOW FUN FOR YOU.
1. People keep deciding to follow me on Twitter. I do not understand how they find me or why they choose to follow me, because I feel like they're thinking, "She's going to say something funny" and then they discover I'm slightly less entertaining than the side of a cereal box. Especially Cap'n Crunch. Not only is that an entertaining cereal box, but the contents are pretty darned tasty, too. Mouth-ripping be damned.
2. The move/moving in together is going well. But it must be said that those are two decidedly different things.
As far as the actual, physical move goes, I'd say we've gotten to Settled In Level One. Most boxes are gone except for those that are filled with things that will require Configuring.
The problem with the cooler-than-I-am bathrooms is that they are modern and stylish and chic. And if you're like me you're thinking, well that sounds great! Except I have learned that the term "modern" when applied to "bathroom" translates to: Oh hey look, there is no under-sink cabinet.
One must therefore conclude that in the "modern" world, women do not need Feminine Products. And also their houses stay magically spotless, because when there is no under-sink cabinetry there is no place for cleaning products. Except perhaps out in the non-existent other storage area.
So until we figure out where these sorts of things DO go, they remain in boxes. Under the sink. In the hopes that the Modern Bathroom will be so appalled at the unsightly cardboard heaps sitting beneath it that it will magically sprout a cabinet.
The moving in together part is also going well. I thought probably that it would be a snap moving in with Ish because
a) we'd been spending EVERY night together as it was, and
b) we'd both lived with partners before
The good news is that I have managed to avoid the trap of obsessing over where our relationship is going now that we've moved in together. I was sort of afraid I would instantly catch The Crazy. You know, like, "Honey, where do you think this painting should go? Because I want this to be our decision, not just my decision now that we're here together and living together and gosh. Isn't it so wonderful that we've brought our relationship to the next level? Which reminds me, WHEN ARE WE MOVING ON TO THE NEXT ONE?!?!?"
Instead, thankfully, I find myself just trying to get used to the little stuff. (It's still The Crazy, but far less scream-y.) It's just -- suddenly everything is important. I find myself wondering, "Will our relationship work, now that we're officially trying it on for size?" And then everything falls into that line of thinking. See the way he uses the salt shaker? What if he's the one I end up with? What if we decide to spend the rest of our lives together? That's a heckuva salt shake he's got. I might see salt shaking that way for decades! Who would have thought? Huh. Salt.
I don't mean to imply that Ish shakes salt in a particularly good or bad way. It's more like, everything matters a little more now. Which is awesome. It's just a lot to take in.
3. The garage to this building empties out to an alleyway. To get to work, I have to drive down the alley, and then turn right again onto a super-busy one-way road. This wouldn't be hard, except I then have to turn left off the super-busy one-way road, and I have ONE BLOCK to do it in. We are talking crossing FOUR LANES of traffic to get to the fifth lane, the one that will allow me to turn left. This means that every morning, I start the day off feeling like Frogger.
4. I spent $228 at the vet today to learn that my cat is healthy.
5. Speaking of wood, I did not intend for this to happen, but when you combine my stuff with Ish's stuff and then buy a few pieces of new stuff, you end up with -- wait for it -- that's right. NINE different types of wood grains in one room. NINE. I don't know what you do about this, either. Can you paint Ikea laminate furniture? (Don't judge.)
Seriously. In light pine we have the coffee table which matches the kitchen caddy and all the kitchen cabinets. (But not the bathroom cabinets. Because if you remember from when this post began about 3 years ago, the only color that matches my bathroom cabinets is "invisible.") Slightly darker, we have the side tables Ish bought in China which are roughly the same color as my mom's kitchen table but which do not match in style at all. Next up we have the sort of red-hued laminate bookshelves and tv stand from Ikea. And rounding off our collection we have the super-dark, nearly black shelving unit and dining table we purchased recently. That match each other more or less (less), but nothing else. Not to mention the green wood chairs. Yes, green.
6. Hot tranny mess.
7. If you have not seen it, I implore you to check out Stuff White People Like. It's like one long indictment of stuff I either do, have, wish I did, or know people who do. (Note: if "reverse racism" is something you believe exists or is something that's even part of your vocabulary, you will probably not enjoy the site at all because you will miss the point entirely.)
8. Did you guys participate in Neil's "Great Interview Experiment"? It's pretty cool, and you can still get in on the action. An awesome blogger (hi, Sassy!) who is all very writer-y and interesting and traveled and cool, has asked me all these questions I never would have thought to write about but am so excited to have an excuse to do so! Yay!
9. Do you want to hear the most San Francisco thing you've ever heard? A friend of mine, let's call him Q, started seeing a therapist we'll call A. When Q first met A, she seemed very familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. He spent much of the session wondering if he'd ever met her before. After the session concluded, a few days later, he realized: A is one of his top matches on an underground online dating site. Man, I love this town.
10. We're having a housewarming party on Saturday. This has resulted in most people I know asking me the following question: "So are you ready for the housewarming on Saturday?" And that makes me a little nervous because maybe they think the party is going to be way more awesome and elaborate than it is. Basically, if you put enough interesting people in a room with good food and a lot of booze, they will probably have a good time. (Realize, however, that this requires far less "planning" on my part than it does "other people showing up." Which is what we're counting on, what with the boxes and invisible cabinets and nine kinds of wood and all. Let alone the forty-five million cats we own.)
Anyway, it should be super fun and I am looking forward to it. I think it will help make me feel like I really do live here. With Ish and everything. Even the Loosies are going to sing!
Of course, you're invited. (Email me for info.) But if you've never been to one of these kinds of parties, let me just say -- food, booze, cat hair, funny people, many of whom are wicked smart and downright loony. This is what you should expect.
And sure, maybe you know this, but ohmygod. Let me tell you a little story.
One of the very first parties I ever threw in San Francisco involved inviting EVERYONE I knew, because this numbered 9 people. However, at that time in my life, I was an active member of a group we'll call Young Nerdpants.
For the record, "active member" meant I signed up to receive their emails.
Also for the record, I signed up to receive their emails because I'd seen something in my Nerdpants Newsletter that basically said, "We're Young Nerdpants, a San Francisco chapter of Nerdpants who get together on a social basis." And I thought, HEY A CHANCE TO SOCIALIZE WITH ACTUAL PEOPLE.
Anyway, I threw my hat into the ring and offered to invite all the local Young Nerdpants to my Halloween party, because wouldn't that be fun? I mean, even Nerdpantses love Halloween, right?
Here is what happened.
One person showed up. He arrived 15 minutes after the party started, and when I answered the door I was already in full Halloween regalia (dressed as a PIMP, no less) and slightly drunk. He was most definitely representin' Nerdpants, with his gray slacks and striped button down. No irony. No costume.
He came in and I immediately asked if he'd like a cocktail. I figured I'd seem much less crazy and lots more funny in my costume if he were drinking.
Except he said no, he doesn't drink alcohol.
Please now imagine me in my pimp-tastic glitter cape, complete with pimp-stick and clear plastic heels, standing in my kitchen holding a martini trying to compute the words "I don't drink alcohol."
So I said, well, we have some soda.
To which he replied, "Oh, okay. But I can't drink anything with caffeine."
No caffeine and no alcohol. Okay.
"I have milk?" I offered. "Well, and water."
He took the water.
When I then brought him into the living room to introduce him to the remaining 8 people, he said, "Oh, I didn't know you have cats."
I then apologized for not including that in the invitation (a mistake I do not make any longer, by the way), and then said I hope he'll be okay. You know, now that he'd gotten his water and all.
And he said, and I quote: "I'll be okay. I just won't sit anywhere or touch anything."
OH WELL THEN.
So yeah. He stood with his water for a good whole hour before he decided to leave.
THE POINT here is that while I may not be the most amazing hostess you will ever meet, I can certainly help you get your Good Time on. All you have to do is want to.