2001-07-30 - 12:19 p.m.

For the next two weeks, I'll be dipping my toes into the bottomless, Styxian body of water that is grown-up hood.

For anyone who is interested, being a grown-up, to me, entails doing something that I don't, i.e. living with someone in an area larger than my studio walk up.

At one time, being in college and living alone was pretty grown up. Then I went to college and got my own apartment. So being a pet owner was grown up. I am now a pet owner. So, naturally, being graduated, married/live-in partnered, and having a house you can afford is now grown up. Eventually, when I have accomplished all of those things, grown-up will entail having kids, followed by retirement, followed by death.

There is so much to look forward to in this life; I can hardly stand it.

Anyway, I am housesitting for Barbara, which is about the yummiest taste of real life a girl can get - posh digs, cable, a maid, the works. Still, having a house is hard work, and I'll be pretty happy to move back to my hole after a few weeks. And on top of that, Gus, who has been sleeping almost exclusively at his place now, has more or less moved in with me - last night he arrived with a bag of laundry; tonight he tranfers his groceries to Barbara's empty fridge.

I see it at somethign of an experiment - how blissful will domestic bliss be for the two of us? I spent most of last night quilting while he played Nintendo. And I'm glad that we've reached a point in our relationship where we don't have to spend every minute together... but what am I saying? We've never been that kind of couple.

Where we are really entering new territory is in this bridging of "together time" and "alone time." Before, when we were in the same place, (except, of course, for being at, say, rehearsal or in a big group) we were doing something together, and when we felt like doing our own thing, we went to our respective apartments. Now, since I have a huge place with enough showers, TVs, computers, everything, there's no reason to kick Gus out so I can be alone, and no reason he needs to go home for anything but his mail.

Frankly, I'm glad it's only going to last for two weeks. Not because I think it'll suck, in fact, I don't see us having anything but a really greatt iem together. But even after one night, of separarte activities in the same abode, I'm reminded of how exciting and romantic it is to go on dates.

As I've said for the second time today, I think it's time to learn to cook Indian food.

I don't think I'll know how I feel about cohabitation until it's over. Gus is going on vacation during my last week at Barbara's, after which time I'll move back into my tiny flat, probably take some time off to get ready for school, then reduce my work day from 8 hours to 3 as the semester starts and my time is taken up with, you know, class.

During the semester, Gus and I stay together more often than not, simply because when you're as busy as we are, sleeping in the same bed can very well be the only time you see your SO, in spite of the fact that your eyes are closed the whole time. But the reality of having a 9 to 5 job, a partner with the same schedule, and a house big enough for two is just not something I can process right now. Even when I'm doing it.

Ahh, the real world. There's nothing like it. Except maybe liivng in it for a few weeks and having it yanked from you really quickly.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: