Figuring out Holidays

Friday, August 31, 2007
I've never been good at sharing things. I have one brother and since we were always interested in different activities, I never really had to learn how to properly share. As I get older and cohabit with the B.F., I find that I need to "share" more often, especially when it comes to holidays and whose house we go to. This upcoming weekend is a small taste of what I will experience as bigger holidays approach like Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'm heading 45 minutes to on Saturday to hang out my B.F. and his family and go to a fair (more to come I'm sure). And then on Sunday, I will have to drive about an hour and 45 minutes back west to head to good ol' Amherst -- where I'm from. Since I'm supposed to be a "we" now, I don't have a problem splitting up this holiday, but as more important ones approach, I just don't know how I will split things between his family and mine. I have friends from high school to see, family members to visit and this overall routine I've had for years with my immediate family. How will I fit it all in? Is it wrong if you don't split holidays with your significant other and their family? Living together or not? And I thought moving in was a big step...

Bull sh*t

Tuesday, August 28, 2007
According to my roommate, the B.F., I'm am "abrasively loud" in the morning. I'm so loud that he decided to refer to me as "some name the bull" from the hours of 6 -8 a.m--- I'm not up at 6 so probably from 7 - 8 a.m. I admit, I am kind of loud. It's not that I don't have respect for other people, it's just that there are lots of things to make noise with in the morning.

For instance, if he decides to sleep in later than me, I close the bathroom door when I'm getting ready, but then I get too hot from the hairdryer so I have to open it. Plus, I have this funny bathroom door that won't stay halfway shut. It either stays completely open or shut -- I can't leave it a little open because it opens itself the whole way, knocking into the cabinet door I have open....making a "knock" noise. Then, the "knock" noise sets him off and he has to point out how loud I am. (I believe at this point is when I become abrasively loud.) When I try and be quiet, something always goes wrong, like I drop my hair dryer or flat iron, knock into the wall or have the TV on too loud. I believe this is the point where we need to start adjusting to each other's behaviors... or he needs to learn how to become a hard sleeper.

We haven't received any noise complaints so I must not be that loud....or maybe everyone around me has bad hearing.

Caught in the Act

Monday, August 27, 2007
I had a very busy week and weekend -- we had the busy weekend with not one, but two freaking weddings! On Friday, we were at my friend from college's wedding along with all of my college friends. It's a great time to hang out and let the B.F. get to know my crazy friends and drink a lot of alcohol. We ended up in downtown Willoughby and continued to have a good time together. The B.F. decides to play this game of questioning who was the biggest whore, complainer, who was the messiest in college and so on -- you get the idea. It was quite fun and who doesn't love reminiscing about their drunken days of living off school loans and skipping class for "that movie you've seen a billion times on cable." I won for wearing the least amount of clothes -- I don't lounge around in sweatpants and a T-shirt -- bras and underwear work just fine and covers just as much as a bathing suit for those who are rolling their eyes. Anyway, so when my friends and him get together they always like to gang up on me, talk about my habits like twirling my hair, wearing no clothes and my picky eating habits. Low and behold come Saturday morning when he's hungover like a 17-year-old drinking Mad Dog for the first time, and he's eating my snack that I always make and get made fun of for making-- saltine crackers with jelly.

I know, I know -- most Saturdays are much more interesting, just not this past one!

Conversation. Period.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Times likes these are when I miss living with a bunch of girls or even one for that matter. Girls can talk about all sorts of things for hours and analyze it, switch it around and still make no sense of a subject. Girls talk about periods (yes we have them), food, comment on TV shows out loud as if the characters can hear us, scan magazines for the pictures and, finally, we talk about our period. I miss the days when I'd hang out in my living room in Kent and watch Laguna Beach with the girls before we'd head downtown and talk about the show when it was on. I mean, we'd have serious conversations about the show as it was happening and thought it was perfectly normal. I can't do that now. When I watch the Hills (I admit it), I can't comment out loud and complain how fake the edits look or talk about their outfits. The B.F. doesn't get it. He'd look at me strange and think I have lost it -- again. I have to pick up the phone, speed dial Katie L. and talk about the characters as if we were best friends with them, only during commercial breaks of course. (We've always done this and have accepted our obsession with reality TV. We had this routine all the through the dorms with Dawson's Creek, Temptation Island and American Idol.) But girls can't do this with their B.F./partner/flavor-of-the-week. They will think we are weird and most of all... they are scared of the word "period" and like to think it doesn't happen. If you have used it, you have learned your lesson. If not, you are in for one, they don't like to hear/think about it.

Playing your game

Monday, August 20, 2007
Like every couple, we fight over small, large, idiotic and important things. We fight over who is driving, who won't drink, what restaurant we go to, who cleans up, who cooks and what movie will rent/go see -- he likes that stupid horror shit genre like The Hills have Eyes and the Saw trilogy. But what we mostly fight about is the damn DVR. Screw you, Time Warner! See, HBO is only on one TV which is currently located in the living room. Since we've moved in, a constant fight is when I will watch Entourage and Big Love. I love these shows. I look forward to them every week. I'm almost as excited as I am to watch the new Grey's Anatomy every Thursday. I'm not asking to watch them live every night since we have DVR, but I don't think I should fight over watching it every week. It's a total of an hour and half -- that's it! He likes Entourage, but then goes into this long, dramatic explanation of why he doesn't like Big Love and then will walk in and out of the room while I'm watching it, reminding me how much he hates this show and how lame it is. Seriously, I watch your lame shows-- the History Channel, something about Fire ants on the Discovery Channel and Rescue Me. (I kind of got into Rescue Me and don't mind watching it. But, sometimes, for the sake of playing his game, I also will throw a childish fit about the shows he watches, until he changes the channel to shut me up or gets up and goes in another room! HA! I can play your game too, B.F.

What kind of man are you dating?

Thursday, August 16, 2007
..............."What kind of man are you dating" is the last lead-in I heard blasting from my TV this morning as I decided on bronze or pewter flip flops in my unorganized closet. I literally repeated Meredith's lead-in out've got to be kidding me. I immediately thought of those cheesy quizzes from YM and Seventeen I used to take in junior high where it said what kind of girlfriend you'd be, guy you'd date or if you are bitch or not. So lame. I don't know if you can classify "the man you are dating" with a few character traits or not. But after another morning of being talked to, asked questions and pretty much annoyed by the B.F., I figured I might as well test my relationship and define the boy that I'm living with.

Editor's note: I hate being talked to in the morning, especially annoyed or nagged by anyone. I want to get ready, fill my brain with headlines from the Today Show, and head into work. In high school, my would come in my room and comment on the clothes on the floor and how I needed to clean up. Or, the fact that I had wet towels laying on the carpet. Duh, I just got out of the shower. Note to mothers, your child doesn't care what his or her room looks like at 7:30 a.m. and probably never will because I still don't. My mother would be so proud.

Screw it, I don't know what the B.F. is classified as, but Ryan Gosling's character, Noah, from the Notebook is one of the choices and that is what I want. Right there! Forget the rock, doer or thrill seeker, every girl wants to date Ryan Gosling.

Furniture shopping

Tuesday, August 14, 2007
It's every girl's dream to furnish a new apartment with new couches, tables, decorative candles and cute little picture frames to fill with pics of her girlfriends. Now picture shopping trip with your boyfriend. The image changes a little bit, huh? The other couple we saw in ValueCity Furniture had it right, the boyfriend says to me, "Damn, he has a say? All I get to do is nod and say 'yes honey." It was pretty funny but the girlfriend didn't find it as funny as I did.

When I go shopping, the clothing/furniture/purse/shoes either catches my eye or it doesn't. The B.F. has to sit, lay, put his feet up and down then sit up again then do the whole routine from another angle. It's pretty interesting to witness. "Allison, I need to make sure it's comfortable."
Of course the furniture is going to be comfortable -- it's a floor model! Imagine how many people do the same exercises to test its comfort everyday! There's no explaining this to boys, they don't get it. The only thing I have to compare it to is how girls try on purses and need to put them on their shoulders and check themselves out. So while he's professionally testing two sets of couches in the showroom, I wander off and check out pictures, tall vases that would sit on the floor and other furniture while some candid camera was probably filming him "testing" the furniture.

After he slept with both sets of couches, we made the decision to get a couch/loveseat combination in cocoa in a microsuede material. Yes, finally! We agreed and I actually like this purchase and don't have to barter with "I'll paint the living room" or "Fine, get what you want but you owe me dinner at Lola." They will be in our living room in the beginning of September!

Parental Visit #2

Monday, August 13, 2007
On Friday, my parents made the trip over to OUR place for pizza and beer -- only my parents. They were more interested with talking to us than going out to dinner my dad said. They brought us wine, we sat and talked and then my dad and the B.F. started talking Harleys, while my mom pressed me for answers about the B.F. After we gave them the grand tour of about 1,100 square feet and my mom started commenting on how "disorganized my room is and your bathroom needs cleaned,"only then did she start pressing me for answers about the B.F.:

Mom: So do you like him?
Me: You can't be serious right now.
Mom: Yes, do you like him?
Me: What kind of question is that? Of course I like him.
Mom: Well, how do you like living with him?
Me: Not bad. He cleans better than I do, takes the trash out and does so many other things without me even thinking about actually doing them myself.
Mom: Allison, you better not be lazy and never help. That's rude.
Me: Of course I help, Julie. (I call her by her first name when I get annoyed, which only makes her ask me more irrelevant questions.)
Mom: Well, I think you like him more than the others.
Me: OK, of course I do, great observation.

Since I left for college, every time I'd come home to stay for the summer or holidays, my mom and I go at it after being in a room together for five minutes. She's a nagger -- I secretly think all moms are and then she wonders why I get annoyed. But, that visit and conversation wasn't too bad, and I think my parents enjoyed themselves for their two hour stay at our apartment. Well, now that both families have met the new place, it's only a matter of time before the rest of our families know, and the meeting of the parents.

Plus 1

Saturday, August 11, 2007
Here is a plus of living with your boyfriend -- they kill things. I'm not terrified of spiders, however when their body is as big as a nickel, brown and hairy and it's on my bathroom floor, then I want someone else to take care of it. That's the second one in 2 days. We live on the bottom floor of our building so it's expected, but still, gross. I normally would've grabbed a shoe and beat the the thing to death. My luck it would jump on me. Gross. Thanks for killing spiders, B.F.

Type A vs. Type B

Wednesday, August 8, 2007
I'm a Type A. I knew it without taking this short and unscientific quiz from the Today Show's Web site. Here are my results below.

You are a type A- or B plus! You are determined and driven, but you still hold back in a few areas. People perceive you as an A type, but there is your inner B that could also be encouraged. Still, your main appearance is outgoing, intense and ambitious.

Type A with another type A-
The good news is that two type A's are a power couple. Think Bill and Hillary, Elizabeth and Bob Dole, Brad and Angelina. They admire each other's energy, achievement and prominence. They are colleagues and peers and they understand each other well. But there can be drawbacks. There can be competition, and they can both be so busy and so ambitious that they don't give enough time to the relationship and it can wither.

Without having the B.F. take this short quiz, I guarantee that he is probably an A+ compared to my A-. I lack in the organization areas and I can turn off my work -- he needs to work on turning off the work part. So if we are both type A personalities, how the hell does that go with the "opposites attract" idea?

tips on grocery shopping with the B.F.

Monday, August 6, 2007
I had my first grocery shopping trip with the B.F. I had gone before by myself so that I could buy all the healthy, organic and high-fructose free food. After my visit, I realized that there are things girls should know before going on that trip with the B.F. I made mistakes and now will learn from them.

1) Don't try to make your B.F. eat bread with "sprigs, twigs and nuts" in it.
Who doesn't remember when the crazy "carbs are the devil" diets came out? Well, I wasn't really part of that, but did watch what carbs I ate -- I eat whole wheat pasta and bread, minus the Saltine crackers. Since I've switched from cancer (white pasta) to whole wheat, I hardly miss that old stuff and am glad I made the switch. I rarely eat bread except for sandwiches and the B.F. likes plain, white bread with certain turkey and cheese. Gross, I won't eat it. So when I say last night, "I think I'm going to run to Trader Joe's tonight, write down anything specific you want." He immediately wants to go with so I don't buy that "hard-as-rock-bread or turkey meat when he want beef tacos."

Editor's Note: Lean ground turkey breast is a great and flavorful substitute for ground beef.

2) Boys grab everything from the shelves because "it doesn't go bad."
Because of crazy work hours and not being domestic, we eat out probably 2 times a week. I might be meeting friends or past co-workers so it's a great way for me to continue my habit of not cooking. Plus, who wants to cook on the weekends! That's what going out to eat is for! But when I do plan on saving some extra cash, I like to plan out my meals ahead of time so that I won't be tempted to hit Heinen's for premade food after working out or working late. He picks out veggie chips (I like), salt and vinegar chips and something else too. Do we really need that? No, we don't but "it doesn't go bad." That's the same response I got when he picked up frozen shrimp, crab cakes and salmon.

Editor's Note: I checked with a fellow cohabitant and she said her B.F. does the same thing. He gets Doritos, cookies and all other types of food that she doesn't eat either.

3) Cereal or my saltine crackers with peanut butter and jelly is a meal/snack.
I don't need a full meal all the time and sometimes cereal counts as a meal to me. I like Kashi Go Lean Crunch and he doesn't which is fine because I'll eat it all anyway. After the chip incident, he throws in Organic round peanut butter crackers.
Me -- "We don't need that."
B.F. -- "Look, you do your little thing with Saltine crackers and jelly, and this is my snack because I just reach in and it's already there. You take entirely too long to prepare your snacks and I don't do that with mine."
This makes perfect sense because I've read a Men's Health or two. The B.F. gets it and you should see what they show as meals -- throw anything together and you have a manly meal.

Instead of trying to turn our B.F.'s into healthy, conscious eaters, just let them go and eat their prepackaged snacks and their ground beef tacos, but throw in some organic soft tacos instead of the hard ones! He'll never notice the difference if you had the packaging!

yours, mine and ours

Saturday, August 4, 2007
I keep referring to everything as "mine" or "his" when I talk about anything regarding the apartment. The B.F. does the same thing so I don't feel that bad. For instance, when he describes how I apparently leave a glass here or there as, "why do you leave glasses all over my
living room?" Funny how other half of the rent comes from that girl that's leaving glasses all over your living room. Even when my friends want details about the apartment, I'll say, "Well I'm now living on the first floor" or "My apartment has this really nice pool with a fountain." My friends will even point it out, too. "Allison, you mean, our apartment has a really nice pool." "Oh no, it's mine, all my apartment."

I was talking to a friend about the these pronouns the other day and how the B.F. and I should create a rule. An "our stuff/things/info" kind of rule. You see, the B.F. and I not only live together, but work together at the same agency. At this point, you are probably thinking, "Allison you are flipping crazy!" I know, I know but it's not that difficult or odd because we are one of several couples at work. We don't interact during the work day unless we need to because we are in different departments. We don't even talk that much because we are so busy and because if I want to say something I can walk right by his office.

So any little funny things that I do like burn popcorn, say something stupid or just something he's found out that he finds annoying, he decides to share it with our co-workers. OK, no -- don't do that. Now, this "our stuff/things/info" rule would allow one of us to shout it out and then he or I (mostly he) can't repeat what happened to anyone -- especially to the damn co-workers.

However, I think it shouldn't apply to this blog-- I'd lose all my material!

The parental visit

Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The B.F.'s parents aren't new to the cohabitation idea. His older brother was living in sin well before the B.F. took the plunge a couple weeks ago, so his mom's only hesitation was, "Well, what if you break up with her?" Our moms must think alike because that's the same response Jules (my mom) had. On a side note, I didn't tell my mom first. I actually pitched the idea to my dad to sort of talk things out loud with someone other than my closest friends and the B.F. He didn't really offer any objections to my idea -- he never really does. He listens and asks valuable questions and then offers his criticism if he has any, which he usually does, in constructive criticism kind of way. Then added something along the lines, "Allison, it's just living together. You either do or you don't. You are a smart girl, you'll figure it out." And figured it out I did.

I digress. After 2.5 weeks, the B.F.'s parents decided to be the first parental units to check out our new digs and take us out to dinner -- what more could we ask for! She bought us a table! This cute white bistro table for outside on our patio complete with 2 chairs. I'll probably be the only person to sit out there. I could blog, read or journal out there. He would probably smoke, which is a disgusting habit he does every once in awhile and I never ever miss an opportunity to point that out. He gave them a quick tour around the complex, showing them the club house and pool area which is a second away from our apartment. They didn't really have that much to say, except to comment on how the B.F. has to live with my less-than-perfectly-organized-room-and-bathroom.

He'll get over that part....eventually.