Home Alone

Steve dropped a bomb on me last night. He let me know that in one week’s time he will be leaving me home alone in our new house while he goes to New York for work for five days. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. What if the landlord’s wife (who lives above us) falls asleep while smoking and burns the house down? What if we have a raccoon invade the house via the cat door? Or worse yet, what do I do if something happens to the cat.

I knew I would eventually have to stay at home alone but I guess I didn’t think that it would be so soon

New Cat

I’ve posted about it before, but I will say it again, I like cats. More specifically Steve’s roommate Jen’s cat named Moose. He is a pumpkin colored cat and loves to be scratched on his head. So last Wednesday when Jen called us to say that when she moved from her old house to a new one she couldn’t take Moose with her and we could have him if we wanted both Steve and I were happy. We had talked about getting a cat once we lived together and Moose was such a great cat we jumped at the offer to take him.


I had never had to ride in a car with cat before and I hope I never have to do it again. Moose was really unhappy about being taken away from his house and also scared of being in a car. He spent the first part of the car ride making the saddest meows and pacing around the back seat the he started to pant which was even worse. He sat on my lap and was gasping for breath, showing all his teeth and sweating profusely from his paws. Neither Steve nor I had ever seen a cat do this so began to worry about the possibility of his heart giving out. Once we arrived at the new house Moose hid for awhile then calmed down a bit and sat with us on the couch and watched some TV.

We are all still adapting to having to live together but Moose has calmed down and Steve and I are trying not to scare him and to try to make him feel at home which involves a lot of cat food and love.

My IKEA Crisis

Steve and I spent all weekend unpacking/orgainizing our house which, if you haven’t ever moved in with a significant other, is fairly stressful. The merging of our stuff has so far been smooth and free of freakouts on both our parts until we took a trip to IKEA on Sunday.

Going to IKEA in my mind is the same as going to a small town fair. There is food, too many people and stuff to buy. After getting a few necessities I started to have a bit of an existential crisis. I started to think about all the moving we had just done and how after weeks of moving I still have stuff at my old house to move. Why were we buying more stuff, what is the point of having all this stuff? Is IKEA really affiliated with the Nazi party? Why does everywhere in the store smell like cheap balsa wood and meatballs? I ended up leaving the store with a dazed look in my eyes and refusing to pay the extra fifty cents for the plastic bags to carry our belongs to our car.

I would like to say that I don’t have to go back there any time soon, but we still need a new couch for our house and IKEA is currently the front-runner for our money.

Upgrade, Downgrade

After living in my new apartment for one week I can’t help but compare the current apartment to my last apartment. In many ways the new place is better then the old, but it still has its flaws. I can’t help but wonder do the upgrades beat out the downgrades?

Old Apartment: Small kitchen with one foot of counter space and an electric stove we left stuff on and would smart small fires.
New Apartment: Large kitchen, plenty of counter space with a gas stove.
Upgrade

Old Apartment: 10-15 minute walk to the T past the crazy guy who would yell at me
New Apartment: 5 minute walk to the T through a scenic bike path.
Upgrade

Old Apartment: Landlord was an old Italian man who smoked a pipe and sat out on the front porch and would welcome us home by saying “She come home!”
New Apartment: Landlord died the day after we moved in leaving behind his mentally disabled wife in a nursing home and a crazy girlfriend poking around the house.
Downgrade

Old Apartment: Had wall that were painted beautiful accent colors so that each room had a feeling of its own.
New Apartment: Started rent’s white wall apartment.
Downgrade

Old Apartment: Roomate is a friend from high school who kept the house clean and was a good friend to have in Boston when I first moved here.
New Apartment: Boyfriend who is the same level of messiness as I am and this will be my first time living with my boyfriend.
Call it a tie?

Packing

I always say I like packing to move to a new house until it comes time to do it. Trying to get enough boxes, packing things so that when it comes time to unpack there will be some order, and the sheer dust of moving things that really haven’t been moved in almost two years is getting me down. Not to mention that after two years of living with Adrianne I can’t remember if some stuff is mine or hers making packing just that much harder due to the fact that I would rather pack with her around for a quick reference.

I am also allowing myself two weeks to move into the new house so right now I’m in a limbo. Half of my stuff is at the new house and half at the old house. I can take a shower at the old house but can’t get ready there because all my makeup and perfumes are at the new house. All my clothing is at the old house except for the dirty clothing I’ve been wearing for the last three days, which are sitting on the floor because my hamper is at the old house.

I also get overwhelmed at the sheer idea of packing stuff up now. Should I wait to pack the mass of papers on my desk now or wait? Should I pack the large pile of Steve’s clothing at my house or let him take care of it? Can I pack my food in the freezer close enough to the time I’m leaving my house before it defrost?
So in the mean time, to hind from all the work I need to do I’ll be sitting in the fort of boxes I made at my house, if you need me.

Gulp

I never really had my parents officially meet any of my boyfriends until Steve. Tomorrow we hit a new milestone; my parents are meeting his parents. Wish us luck.