Entry XXXVII--Togetherness
Funny, as I bang this box of books against the wall of my new dwelling, all I can think about is my old apartment. The one I left behind and said goodbye to for good just two days ago.
Don't even know why I'm thinking about it, it's not like I miss the place. I was glad to finally have an excuse to leave. Rent control was the only thing keeping me there, let's face it.
Now that I have money (at least, more of it than I used to)--and Cassandra--I don't need it anymore.
It's probably just having to give up something that I had become some accustomed to for so many years.
The freedom and independence of living alone, no one to bother you, except the asshole living upstairs or an annoying apartment manager.
But that's all over now. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm going to be living with another human being.
Spent last night at Cassandra's, and in the afternoon I packed up the last of the stuff I was carrying with me to her place (the majority of my belongings having already been packed up and carted away by an able bodied moving company, at Ms. Cabal's expense. She's also moving Cassandra on her dime.
Almost reach the end of the narrow hallway of the flat without incident when Cassandra suddenly pops right in front of me after making a sudden sharp turn out of her room--her painting room.
We nearly collide and only my swift reflexes prevent the box I'm holding from spilling books out all over the floor as I manage to twist my hips enough where she slams into my side.
"Sorry," she replies, a bit sheepish.
"It's cool," I smile, "I know you're psyched to get us moved in here, just come out of the rooms a little bit slower."
Psyched she is; by the time I unload the books in what we're temporarily calling 'the library', she's already made three more trips with boxes into her soon-to-be studio.
This is a pain, but at least we're not doing the heavy duty moving, that was all done for us by the movers, but we had them leave most of the boxes in the rooms nearest the door until we could figure out what we wanted to go where.
That was more Cassandra's doing--if it were up to me, the movers would have put every box in every room is eventually destined for.
But that's no fun, I'll admit. Don't want my laziness to take over. And it is a bit of a kick moving into a new place, planning out how you're going to live. Having so many rooms is cool, it allows us to have a 'library' and a 'studio' for her.
Course, I'm supposed to be filling these rooms with other people for that great 'cult' that's coming together so smoothly.
Don't even have the guts to tell Cassandra about it yet. Haven't even broached the subject.
With good cause, though, this move is stressful enough on her and me and us. Most importantly, us. Sometimes I think it would've been better if we had lived together first at her place, cramped though it is.
We're doing it the hard way; both moving into a brand new place in a brand new neighborhood while living together for the first time after not having even dated for very long--or slept together at all.
Frankly, am already overwhelmed by the spaciousness of it all; after years and years of being absolutely and anonymously cramped in the studio on Bush St., I'm now faced with an overabundance of space.
As Cassandra whizzes by me again with yet another box, hard to gauge where she's at--I mean, she seems okay with it all, she's definitely full of purpose energy and enthusiasm, but is she really happy?
Listen to me, getting ahead of myself--it's too early to tell if she's happy here.
Have to decide first if I'm happy here.
As I exit the 'library', notice some chipped pain on the door frame that I hadn't when we looked the place over prior to moving in.
Oh well, Ms. Cabal already said one call and anything we need will be taken care of. Wonder if she'd be so attentive if she didn't want me to move a whole blooming cult in here?
Doubt it.
Oops. Keep forgetting that Ms. Cabal can 'hear' my every thought--and while she can't be thrilled that I'm harboring negative thoughts towards her, I also know that she expects it, because, dammit--I'm mortal.
Is Bye Bull your favorite book?
posted by altheatheist January 16 at 8:23 pm PST
Will America ever be Christian-free?
posted by Simon January 11 at 4:42 pm PST
***Official We Want to Live with Darwin Grimm Thread***
posted by drwatson Nov 16th at 7:11 pm PST
Ugh, that one is still on the forum? It's a thread like that that makes me wish I had the power--or the tenacity--to delete threads.
Know who it is--that crazy Palmer cat, the guy who followed me around on my book tour like he was a hippie following that one band from Vermont.
It's like he's doing the homework that Ms. Cabal 'assigned' me on xmas eve, promoting the idea of a bunch of anti-christians living together to form a 'more perfect union'.
Cassandra is in her room doing her thing. I'm in mine, doing mine.
Togetherness.
Course, if I do comply with Ms. Cabal's wishes, and turn this place into a commune, I won't have my own writing room any longer. Someone else will be sleeping in here.
Calling it a 'writing room' is a fucking joke though--I don't write, I just surf the web and wait for Cassandra to finish painting.
She seems happy here though, and that certainly raises my happy quotient.
The only thing is--how will she take other people living here?
Got to figure out a way to introduce her to the idea of living with other people.
Will take care of that as soon as I convince myself that I want to live with others.
Don't even know why I'm thinking about it, it's not like I miss the place. I was glad to finally have an excuse to leave. Rent control was the only thing keeping me there, let's face it.
Now that I have money (at least, more of it than I used to)--and Cassandra--I don't need it anymore.
It's probably just having to give up something that I had become some accustomed to for so many years.
The freedom and independence of living alone, no one to bother you, except the asshole living upstairs or an annoying apartment manager.
But that's all over now. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm going to be living with another human being.
Spent last night at Cassandra's, and in the afternoon I packed up the last of the stuff I was carrying with me to her place (the majority of my belongings having already been packed up and carted away by an able bodied moving company, at Ms. Cabal's expense. She's also moving Cassandra on her dime.
Almost reach the end of the narrow hallway of the flat without incident when Cassandra suddenly pops right in front of me after making a sudden sharp turn out of her room--her painting room.
We nearly collide and only my swift reflexes prevent the box I'm holding from spilling books out all over the floor as I manage to twist my hips enough where she slams into my side.
"Sorry," she replies, a bit sheepish.
"It's cool," I smile, "I know you're psyched to get us moved in here, just come out of the rooms a little bit slower."
Psyched she is; by the time I unload the books in what we're temporarily calling 'the library', she's already made three more trips with boxes into her soon-to-be studio.
This is a pain, but at least we're not doing the heavy duty moving, that was all done for us by the movers, but we had them leave most of the boxes in the rooms nearest the door until we could figure out what we wanted to go where.
That was more Cassandra's doing--if it were up to me, the movers would have put every box in every room is eventually destined for.
But that's no fun, I'll admit. Don't want my laziness to take over. And it is a bit of a kick moving into a new place, planning out how you're going to live. Having so many rooms is cool, it allows us to have a 'library' and a 'studio' for her.
Course, I'm supposed to be filling these rooms with other people for that great 'cult' that's coming together so smoothly.
Don't even have the guts to tell Cassandra about it yet. Haven't even broached the subject.
With good cause, though, this move is stressful enough on her and me and us. Most importantly, us. Sometimes I think it would've been better if we had lived together first at her place, cramped though it is.
We're doing it the hard way; both moving into a brand new place in a brand new neighborhood while living together for the first time after not having even dated for very long--or slept together at all.
Frankly, am already overwhelmed by the spaciousness of it all; after years and years of being absolutely and anonymously cramped in the studio on Bush St., I'm now faced with an overabundance of space.
As Cassandra whizzes by me again with yet another box, hard to gauge where she's at--I mean, she seems okay with it all, she's definitely full of purpose energy and enthusiasm, but is she really happy?
Listen to me, getting ahead of myself--it's too early to tell if she's happy here.
Have to decide first if I'm happy here.
As I exit the 'library', notice some chipped pain on the door frame that I hadn't when we looked the place over prior to moving in.
Oh well, Ms. Cabal already said one call and anything we need will be taken care of. Wonder if she'd be so attentive if she didn't want me to move a whole blooming cult in here?
Doubt it.
Oops. Keep forgetting that Ms. Cabal can 'hear' my every thought--and while she can't be thrilled that I'm harboring negative thoughts towards her, I also know that she expects it, because, dammit--I'm mortal.
Is Bye Bull your favorite book?
posted by altheatheist January 16 at 8:23 pm PST
Will America ever be Christian-free?
posted by Simon January 11 at 4:42 pm PST
***Official We Want to Live with Darwin Grimm Thread***
posted by drwatson Nov 16th at 7:11 pm PST
Ugh, that one is still on the forum? It's a thread like that that makes me wish I had the power--or the tenacity--to delete threads.
Know who it is--that crazy Palmer cat, the guy who followed me around on my book tour like he was a hippie following that one band from Vermont.
It's like he's doing the homework that Ms. Cabal 'assigned' me on xmas eve, promoting the idea of a bunch of anti-christians living together to form a 'more perfect union'.
Cassandra is in her room doing her thing. I'm in mine, doing mine.
Togetherness.
Course, if I do comply with Ms. Cabal's wishes, and turn this place into a commune, I won't have my own writing room any longer. Someone else will be sleeping in here.
Calling it a 'writing room' is a fucking joke though--I don't write, I just surf the web and wait for Cassandra to finish painting.
She seems happy here though, and that certainly raises my happy quotient.
The only thing is--how will she take other people living here?
Got to figure out a way to introduce her to the idea of living with other people.
Will take care of that as soon as I convince myself that I want to live with others.
posted by Darwin Grimm at 7:54 PM
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