Cohabitation Part Two

The saga continues... Mo and I have moved into the new apartment, after a hectic month of painting and packing. The new place has come together well, plotting out the rooms and furniture on graph paper allowed us to cram the place with all our stuff. It really looks like a grownup's place.

So for the first time in my life, I'm really and truly shacking up. Romance is different when you're living together; it's even different from when you're living in the same house with 4 or 5 other people. When your relationship spends most of its time with other people around, it's almost as if you're on display. Couplehood becomes a performance art of sorts. In this day and age, it's easy to think that a romance is only about you and your beloved, but just like Heisenberg's electron, the observer can't help but affect the observed.


Fig.1 The New Digs,
including the New Loveseat of Doom
When you're on your own, though, those rules no longer apply. Fortunately, I've never been terribly constrained by what people might think, but that whole entertaining life of the party factor is given a new spin. (What can I say, I'm a wild and crazy guy.)

So overall, domestic life is treating me pretty well. I mean, we just got a joint account- (for bill paying only-) doesn't that mean we're practically married? I do miss the ready supply of Nintendo 64 opponents in the communal setting, but avoiding the hassles of no privacy and no responsibility for picking up those damn cereal bowls no matter how many times I write it up on the message board, I've mentioned it again and again and oh jeez, is that MOLD growing in there? Err, Anyway, Mo and I are doing swell.

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