My boyfriend and I moved in together.
This blog is my attempt to record the trials and triumphs of said occurrence, not to mention get me to write on a regular basis again. I read blogs because posts are short and sweet and easily digestible. That's the same reason, for the most part, that I started writing poetry. Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that this is what everyone is secretly doing while they're at their desks at work all day.
Anyways, yes. I have lived with a boyfriend before. Did it go well? To say no would be the most hilariously understated response I could come up with. But this is different. For one thing, our relationship is based on love and respect, and moving in together seemed like a natural (and simplifying!) next step, as opposed to something done in desperation to salvage/keep afloat a dying relationship (ahem). For another, this man is by far the kindest, most wonderfully understanding and patient human being I have ever met (I would say in the whole world, but it's still too early in the day for such lavish hyperbole).
Now the two of us live at the Car Barn on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC. The apartment is the newest and nicest place I have ever lived in. It's above ground (something new for J since he has moved to DC three years ago), it has central air (oh my god how I could wax poetic about this), it's 700-some-odd-square feet (not too shabby, but Jim has LOADS of electronic equipment and musical instruments). If you're a DC resident, you may know the Car Barn. If you're like me, you lived here on and off for 8 years without ever hearing about it. More pictures and further explanation to come, ya'll.
So far, we've been there for 4 days. Unpacking and organizing is kind of at a standstill because J takes the bar in less than a week, then goes to Vegas for his annual men-in-the-family trip, and then officially moves out and hauls the rest of his stuff out of his English basement apartment in Tenleytown.
Stay tuned, folks. Not that there are any of you out there yet.
