March 27, 2007
"I am self-involved, mercurial and comfortable eating dinners of frozen waffles in my underpants."
I understand. And why do you like to live alone? Or -- in case you don't live alone -- what exactly would you like about it if you did?
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19 comments:
If I were Greg I'd be telling Henry:
1. I don't much care to be drawn into the public gaze in this manner without my active consent and right to reply.
2. If that's your idea of co-habiting, then it's just that - your idea not mine.
3. The 'Greg Years' not only are over, they clearly never began.
But then what do I know about the dynamics of home-making between homosexualist couples?
But, you're not Greg and it apparently it works for him and Henry. Funny that.
I don't live alone, but whenever my husband is in the field or deployed and the kids are asleep, it's a nice little slice of living alone. And I enjoy stupid little things about it. Like watching a movie I've seen way too many times, and then immediately watching it again with director commentary. And having everything exactly where I want it, if only for a few hours at a time. Drinking wine and eating animal crackers. Stupid little things that I enjoy immensely.
I will never understand people who can put aside a check for $7632 and forget about it.
...says Henry.
LOL. I wasn't sure if it was just me that thought that was nuts. I can't even imagine having $700 in loose change stashed unknowingly. A $7k check...? Sheeeew. High class problem.
Probably the larger issue here for him is that at 44, its probably tough to get used to having someone sharing your living space, the key word being 'sharing'.
People are creatures of habit and the longer you have been used to doing something or living a certain way, the harder it is to cope when that is turned upside down with a roommate. Its called compromise and the lack of it in relationships nowadays is generally why there is a 50% plus divorce rate.
I will never understand people who can put aside a check for $7632 and forget about it.
Probably because you're not an artsy rich type who probably spends that much on bath towels.
These New Yorkers really DO seem to be on a different planet than the rest of us.
Some New Yorkers are just on a different planet from most New Yorkers.
Personally, I prefer to heat up the waffles before putting them in my underpants. (And no syrup, obviously.)
Oh, I loved living alone, back when I was in college and the first year of graduate school before I got married. I also loved traveling alone, and even eating at restaurants alone, people-watching or reading. I still love going out to lunch by myself, taking with me a good book or some light paperwork to do. And I liked going to bed alone with a good book that I could read as late into the night as I wanted.
I loved having a whole apartment that was my own space. I loved the quiet. I loved just not having to be responsible for anyone, and not having to worry about whether I was being a good enough roommate (being by nature socially awkward and probably somewhere on the Asperger's spectrum, having to live with a roommate chosen by lottery is one of my personal definitions of hell).
I'm married and have three kids. I love that too, it's a different kind of nice. But I sometimes fantasize about having my own room.
>And why do you like to live alone?
Volume control. Sometimes I like it loud. Sometimes quiet. And that's hard to regulate if you're sharing a place with someone.
Which is why I will never go back to living in an apartment, since it seems to be a law for every neighbor of mine to have a giant stereo on the other side of the wall.
Thanks, Cat for a good laugh:
I told her without thumbs they can't open the jewelry box and besides, their ears aren't pierced!)
As to this:
My mom once collected $25 in change loose here and there in my house and car.
Your mother gave it back to you? Was she cleaning your house and car for some special reason? You're a lucky guy! Once old enough to know better, while living at home, my mom's policy was "I found it. I keep it," particularly if found at the bottom of the washer. LOL!
Oooh I can't wait to live alone again. I grew up in a very large loud chaotic family where there was no such thing as peace or quiet or privacy. When I was little I would spend hours playing with a dollhouse, not with the dolls, but just arranging the furniture and making a perfect little world.
My current world is less than perfect, and I have lots of spare change filling bowls on various surfaces. (Older child was a ceramics major for a while. I have lots of bowls. And lots of naked ladies.) Maybe I'll take it all to the change-counting machine and see if it's $700 worth. Kinda doubt it.
What kind of person (other than one making ten mil a year or more) forgets to cash a check for more than $7000?
A person who doesn't *need* $7000 at that particular time. If you're single, childless, and renting, and have a good job, odds are you have a lot of disposable income and no big expenses to worry about.
When you don't need money, you don't spend a lot of time worrying about money. Add in the fact that so many monthly financial transactions (such as billing and paycheck deposit) can be handled automatically, and it is easy for disorganized people to forget about that sort of thing.
LOL I'm still laughing at the comparing the "eerie textural similarity of sisal rugs to Triscuits." This post was funny.
Chances are, had I ever lived alone, I would have preferred it forever. You can let the gut deflate in stretch pants at the end of the day, skip dinner, and eat an entire pint of Blue Bell Fudge Brownie Nut ice cream while watching recorded episodes of The Office and Colbert Report. Well, that's what I would have done. (sigh) Shameful, I know...
I didn't marry until I was 36, it has been 12 years now. I miss living alone. Though I would never eat a waffle in my underpants, the elastic in the waistband is problematic.
My wife goes to visit her family for weeks on end. She knows that I can't wait for her to get out of the house. I adore my time alone. Music, or television, at any volume I like. Staying up as late as I wish without disturbing anyone. Coming and going as I please. It makes me wonder if I am really cut out for being married. And you can't miss someone unless they go away occasionally.
I would have used that "found" $7k to rent a bigger apartment.
Hmmm. Sometimes when I read the NY Times I feel like they are slipping a mickey into my reading, working other angles and winking at me, saying, "Oh, nothing to see here, read away."
So I won't go there, about Henry, or Greg, or the happily cartoony picture of the lovers. I shall stick to the issue at hand.
I've lived alone for about 11 years now, and before that, with parents. At times I am desperately lonely, though that, I've learned, is not likely a function of living alone, but rather my own social retardedness, certain character flaws, and visual ordinaryness.
But the aloneness itself, the space and freedom, is quite nice. My buddy John is married, and of course must compromise (as does his wife) and I see the tension and frustration in their eyes. They play tennis with each other, wacking away at points far above my head, with no love in sight (or so it appears).
So I rightly like the opportunity to decorate as I please, eat what I want, and get into battles with the biker neighbors upstairs as to whether my Alison Krauss or Jars of Clay will drown out there Creedance, or whether we will all be consumed by the thumping reggaeton coming from across the way.
Pretty much everything here is dirtier than it would be if I were not alone, and I would have furniture (which I don't really have, and which I keep meaning to buy once I am sure that I want to stay here in Arizona). It's been 7 years alone in Phoenix, after 4 years or so alone in New Jersey.
I don't know if that will ever change, or if love might appear, but all I can do is blast my Crowded House and hope for that gift one day. I love and hate my space.
It's not Dennis Quaid. It's Mickey Rourke.
Cat -
The french fries that are found in the bottom of a fast food bag are properly known as "trench fries".
Carry on.
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