I should probably tell you this now, because Graham has already told all of his friends and I’ve said something to a couple of mine.
WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!!!!1!
Ha. You idiots. If a single one of you read that sentence and did not shake your head in dismay while preparing to knock some sense back into me, you are no longer my friend. Seriously. You obviously haven’t listened to a thing I’ve ever said, and your hesitation to exact violence on behalf of my better judgement is disturbing.
We’re not getting married, obviously. But we are moving in together. Probably. The caveats are that we will move in together IF I can buy a house and IF we’re still doing okay with our relationship. Moving days are stressful enough, I do not need to be in one of those weeklong couple fights while I’m Tetris-ing the inside of a U-Haul.
The subject of moving in together came up more than a year ago. Graham’s old apartment had become unsuitable for habitation (unless you like cars blowing up and being shot in a home invasion, that is) and it would be a couple of months before a new place would be available. So he moved in with me. It was always going to be a temporary thing. I was glad when the temporary period ended because I was unsure that I would be able to murder him and get away with it. I simply wasn’t ready to live with anyone, so even though he told me he’d stay if I asked him to, it wasn’t the right time.
Since then, I’ve been thinking about whether or not I’ll ever be ready to live with someone else. While I can’t say that I’m 100% sure about sharing my first house with someone, I’m always willing to make an effort. Also, the fact that it’s a house confers the following benefits:
1. It will have a yard.
2. It will have a basement.
3. It will not have a cement-hooved, door-slamming, ultra-bitch Medusa downstairs neighbor who incites so much rage in me that only Graham is willing to express by shouting obscenities, to which I say knock it off because I’m the one who has to live above these people.
4. If not bigger than the apartment, it will still be its own building, presumably with enough space (see previously mentioned yard, basement) to which someone can hide/escape/be banished.
Plus, you know, there are the obvious reasons like I love him and all that. I like that he’s volunteered to do the vacuuming and the mopping, and put the cable/Internet in his name, and he’ll probably handle the yard because he likes that kind of thing, and he 100% understands the need for a bacon fat jar.
How am I supposed to live with someone who doesn’t understand the need for a bacon fat jar? Sometimes I need to shout into the other room, “Hey, can you come in here and get the bacon fat jar for me?” In addition to readying the bacon fat jar, I need someone who can appreciate the beauty of having animal fat close at hand for a variety of cooking preparations.
I know the bacon trend has gotten tedious by now, but what good is a couple if bacon fat can’t keep them together?
If you’re not into bacon fat but need a little help with your relationship, please see this cover of INXS’s “Need You Tonight,” as performed by Beck and his hipster (also possibly Scientologist?) friends.