There is this guy at work. Let's call him D. D is hilarious, and easy on the eyes. Not much taller than me, but dark-complexioned and always laughing at some dark joke. Educated. Intelligent. Cynical. Mmm, yeah.
Several of my colleagues have commented that they think he's attracted to me. I think so, too...his gaze lingers just a little too long. He always seems to find a reason to come to my department, though he works elsewhere. You know.
I have to admit, I am attracted back.
D invited T and I out to the bar last week. T hates bars, and tried to convince me to go alone. I did the right thing, and decided to stay in. I am not a cheater, and 'cheating' doesn't happen by accident, but a night of drinking and dancing just didn't seem like the right thing to do. It seemed more like an accident waiting to happen. Not that I said as much to T, but it felt like the only choice to make.
Yesterday, I had a home inspection. T was at work.
The inspector, G., was tall, well over 6 feet, and had M's auburn coloring, dark earnest eyes, and freckles. He smelled distractingly delicious. He spoke in a quiet, reassuring tone, sounding competent and calm and confident without coming off as cocky. He laughed big, though, deep and hearty.
G had long freckled fingers not sporting any rings. He was patient with my million questions, and my tagging along, poking around at furnace vents and wall outlets. He explained what he was doing and why, without being condescending. I followed him up the ladder and into the attic, and down under the crawlspace. That ass going up the ladder was...well, let's just say it was a hell of a view.
There were places where I had to be right in G's space in order to see the things he was pointing out. The air crackled, and it was hard to pay attention to the plumbing with his cologne and low voice. When a strong arm reached over, brushing my shoulder to point to the wiring...well, it wouldn't take much imagination to go from there to a cheap Harlequin story. In fact, my imagination had no trouble with that, at all.
I am not sure I have ever become 'not single' in my head. I did the right thing not going out with D, and refrained from asking G any personal questions, like did he have a girlfriend, or what was he doing later that night. I had to work at it, though. I keep hoping that at some point, I will be so madly in love that I stop noticing anyone else, but it hasn't happened yet...
Showing posts with label t. Show all posts
Showing posts with label t. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Funerals
T's grandfather passed away a couple weeks ago. This week was the funeral.
I had not yet met T's extended family. I was quite concerned about being introduced to a highly religious bunch as T's live-in (in sin) 'special friend' in those sorts of circumstances.
After a whirlwind round of introductions at the funeral home, I decided to sneak out for a smoke. I say sneak because T has been hiding my habit from his family since I met them. I creep around like I am a teenager again, making excuses to be outdoors and out of sight. T's parents must believe by now that my dog is completely incontinent, and wonder why I take her everywhere...
So I was standing outside, smoke palmed, checking for parents before each drag. One of T's cousins, J, caught me. He asked if he could bum one. I handed it over, and told J he had to cover for me if any parents came out suddenly. He laughed and commented that at least we weren't smoking dope, then went on to say that if I was interested, he had some good BC bud in the car. I laughed like I thought he was joking, and he let the subject drop, but I felt a little better knowing that I wouldn't be the blackest sheep at the party.
After the burial, we were sitting in the holding pen at the church, where they make the family wait while they seat everyone else. Another of T's cousins came over, introducing himself to me, and saying he had a funny question to ask. He wanted to know if it would be okay if he used T's last name to refer to me in the eulogy, 'to make it easier for everyone to understand'. I started to get nervous again at that point.
I am terrible with names. Sitting in the holding pen, I was trying to use some fancy memory tricks to help me remember the names and relationships of the forty-six people in the room. I asked T to help me sort out who belonged with who. I asked him to tell me something memorable about each of his relatives. T is not very good at this game, in general, as he is not close with his family. However, T surprised me.
He started out pointing at a cousin. 'That guy's father is the one in the green shirt over there. But he's not really the father. The woman in the blue shoes, over there, was cheating on him, so neither of the kids looks like their 'dad'.
'The man over there is my sort-of uncle. Mom's sister was married to him for awhile, but he didn't make enough money, so she divorced him and married the British guy in the grey suit. He's a millionnaire'
'The gal with the little baby in the carrier over here...well, we just found out she was pregnant. Last week. The baby is about six days old. She likes to party, and we're not sure who the father is.'
I don't know why I try so hard to impress these people...
...And I don't know why I think 'religious' people would look down on me...
So anyways, the funeral went much as funerals do, and T and I came home and did some passionate affirming of life on the couch when we got home. Something about funerals does that to me every time...
...And I have to say, the family's less intimidating, somehow...
I had not yet met T's extended family. I was quite concerned about being introduced to a highly religious bunch as T's live-in (in sin) 'special friend' in those sorts of circumstances.
After a whirlwind round of introductions at the funeral home, I decided to sneak out for a smoke. I say sneak because T has been hiding my habit from his family since I met them. I creep around like I am a teenager again, making excuses to be outdoors and out of sight. T's parents must believe by now that my dog is completely incontinent, and wonder why I take her everywhere...
So I was standing outside, smoke palmed, checking for parents before each drag. One of T's cousins, J, caught me. He asked if he could bum one. I handed it over, and told J he had to cover for me if any parents came out suddenly. He laughed and commented that at least we weren't smoking dope, then went on to say that if I was interested, he had some good BC bud in the car. I laughed like I thought he was joking, and he let the subject drop, but I felt a little better knowing that I wouldn't be the blackest sheep at the party.
After the burial, we were sitting in the holding pen at the church, where they make the family wait while they seat everyone else. Another of T's cousins came over, introducing himself to me, and saying he had a funny question to ask. He wanted to know if it would be okay if he used T's last name to refer to me in the eulogy, 'to make it easier for everyone to understand'. I started to get nervous again at that point.
I am terrible with names. Sitting in the holding pen, I was trying to use some fancy memory tricks to help me remember the names and relationships of the forty-six people in the room. I asked T to help me sort out who belonged with who. I asked him to tell me something memorable about each of his relatives. T is not very good at this game, in general, as he is not close with his family. However, T surprised me.
He started out pointing at a cousin. 'That guy's father is the one in the green shirt over there. But he's not really the father. The woman in the blue shoes, over there, was cheating on him, so neither of the kids looks like their 'dad'.
'The man over there is my sort-of uncle. Mom's sister was married to him for awhile, but he didn't make enough money, so she divorced him and married the British guy in the grey suit. He's a millionnaire'
'The gal with the little baby in the carrier over here...well, we just found out she was pregnant. Last week. The baby is about six days old. She likes to party, and we're not sure who the father is.'
I don't know why I try so hard to impress these people...
...And I don't know why I think 'religious' people would look down on me...
So anyways, the funeral went much as funerals do, and T and I came home and did some passionate affirming of life on the couch when we got home. Something about funerals does that to me every time...
...And I have to say, the family's less intimidating, somehow...
Friday, December 14, 2007
Kittens
I am now the not-so-proud owner of two kittens. They were accidental. I do not like kittens. At all. The combination of sick helpless things, terrible weather, and T being a bigger softie than me did me in, though.
T said he would deal with the litterbox.
T found the litterbox too dusty, and in a place where he never remembered to scoop it.
Your faithful author moved said litterbox, drove an hour to get no-dust litter, reminded T twice a day, then gave up and did it herself.
The next fight we had was about me being sick of being everybody's mother. I have chosen not to have kids (so far), so I don't understand how I get stuck in the role of coddling and/or supervising the people around me. I told him I was sick of having to do everything, or make sure he was doing it. I am sick of having to remind people to do things that they should just up and do for themselves. I am sick of having all the responsibility. I used the litterbox for an example.
"But I've been scooping it twice a day" he said.
I started yelling at that point.
T said he would deal with the litterbox.
T found the litterbox too dusty, and in a place where he never remembered to scoop it.
Your faithful author moved said litterbox, drove an hour to get no-dust litter, reminded T twice a day, then gave up and did it herself.
The next fight we had was about me being sick of being everybody's mother. I have chosen not to have kids (so far), so I don't understand how I get stuck in the role of coddling and/or supervising the people around me. I told him I was sick of having to do everything, or make sure he was doing it. I am sick of having to remind people to do things that they should just up and do for themselves. I am sick of having all the responsibility. I used the litterbox for an example.
"But I've been scooping it twice a day" he said.
I started yelling at that point.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Packing.
T met my mom a few weeks ago. And Mom's girlfriend. For a guy raised in an uber-religious family, he was pretty blase about it.
"I like your mom," he said, "Actually, I felt pretty comfortable around them both."
Good thing, that - we're packing up and going there for the rest of the week, as we are on holidays.
I managed to carry everything I needed for a year-long trip covering four seasons on three continents in one backpack...once. I have since discovered that I pack exactly the same amount of crap whether I am going for two days or a year.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I pack more for a weekend.
Problem is, I knew I wouldn't want to be dressing up and wearing makeup in the middle of the Sahara desert. When I'm travelling, looking good is not on the priority list, and high heels just aren't necessary. However, going home and visiting friends is another story entirely.
First off, you never know whether it is going to rain, snow, or shine - temperatures in the Prairies at this time of year range from thirty above to twenty below (celcius SWF, celcius) and the weather dudes really can't predict what's going to happen in the next hour, let alone the rest of the week.
Secondly, chances are good I'll run into people I haven't seen in a few years. You want to be looking good when you run into those stuck-up bitches from highschool - there is something gratifying to say "oh, no, I haven't gotten around to having kids yet, I got a degree and traveled Africa instead" while you watch them wiping the snotty nose on their third or fourth little brat. Well, that and I weigh exactly the same as I did in grade 11.
T has already figured out my packing style. I was finishing the laundry this morning, and he was setting out the stuff he intended to take. He'd dug out quite a large bag - we both usually just stuff a few things in our laptop knapsacks, but this one was a duffel bag.
I started packing my own things, in my laptop bag, of course. Then I realised I needed to bring a nice pair of shoes, and a fall jacket. And another pair of slacks, in case I go out bar hopping with my cousin. T had two pair of jeans and three shirts in that great big bag...so much space left over...so I asked him - "hey, can I tuck a few things in there?"
"That's what I'm bringing this bag for," he said smugly.
Who says they don't pay attention?
"I like your mom," he said, "Actually, I felt pretty comfortable around them both."
Good thing, that - we're packing up and going there for the rest of the week, as we are on holidays.
I managed to carry everything I needed for a year-long trip covering four seasons on three continents in one backpack...once. I have since discovered that I pack exactly the same amount of crap whether I am going for two days or a year.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I pack more for a weekend.
Problem is, I knew I wouldn't want to be dressing up and wearing makeup in the middle of the Sahara desert. When I'm travelling, looking good is not on the priority list, and high heels just aren't necessary. However, going home and visiting friends is another story entirely.
First off, you never know whether it is going to rain, snow, or shine - temperatures in the Prairies at this time of year range from thirty above to twenty below (celcius SWF, celcius) and the weather dudes really can't predict what's going to happen in the next hour, let alone the rest of the week.
Secondly, chances are good I'll run into people I haven't seen in a few years. You want to be looking good when you run into those stuck-up bitches from highschool - there is something gratifying to say "oh, no, I haven't gotten around to having kids yet, I got a degree and traveled Africa instead" while you watch them wiping the snotty nose on their third or fourth little brat. Well, that and I weigh exactly the same as I did in grade 11.
T has already figured out my packing style. I was finishing the laundry this morning, and he was setting out the stuff he intended to take. He'd dug out quite a large bag - we both usually just stuff a few things in our laptop knapsacks, but this one was a duffel bag.
I started packing my own things, in my laptop bag, of course. Then I realised I needed to bring a nice pair of shoes, and a fall jacket. And another pair of slacks, in case I go out bar hopping with my cousin. T had two pair of jeans and three shirts in that great big bag...so much space left over...so I asked him - "hey, can I tuck a few things in there?"
"That's what I'm bringing this bag for," he said smugly.
Who says they don't pay attention?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Apologies
I got home from work yesterday, excited to have discovered there is a craft supply store in the next town over. I had every intention of going, but wanted to wait for T to get home because...well, just because.
He often doesn't get home until 5:30, but I called the store, and they close at 5:30. I tried to call T, but his phone was off.
I thought about it, and realised we'd had a conversation a couple of weeks back about nights off. I volunteer on Tuesday nights, so he gets an evening to himself every week. I (rather bluntly) suggested he find something to do one night a week, or even every other week, so I could have an evening alone, too. We agreed that Thursday would be a good day for that. Yesterday was Thursday.
So, I packed the dog in the car and drove to the craft store. I spent an hour chatting with the lady and picking out pretty scrapbooking stamps and papers. Spent a wad of cash. Then I stopped at the bank. And ran to the grocery store.
With all my running around done, I came home, in no particular hurry.
I could smell the barbecue when I pulled in the driveway.
The first thing out of T's mouth when I walked in the door was "Sorry!"
"Sorry for what?"
"For being late. You aren't mad? I thought maybe you were mad. My phone died, and I couldn't call."
"Me? Mad? Hell, no...I was shopping"
"Oh. Whew. Thanks for being sane..."
And, with this, I got a hug and a great big kiss. I do not know what sorts of women he has been hanging out with, if he considers me exceptionally stable and sane. I told him I thought he was out playing Scrabble with his friend J, as per our conversation a couple weeks back. He said "No, if I do that, I will call for sure."
Later in the evening, I pointed out that the best thing about our relationship (to me) is that it's just like being single, but less lonely. He places no demands or ultimatums on me. I can do what I want, spend my time and money however I like, and hang out with anyone I choose. Mr Wonderful (an ex) stayed here on the weekend with his new girlfriend. T had no issues with this, and, afterward, decided he quite liked both of them. What a sweetheart. He really does fit into my life...
He often doesn't get home until 5:30, but I called the store, and they close at 5:30. I tried to call T, but his phone was off.
I thought about it, and realised we'd had a conversation a couple of weeks back about nights off. I volunteer on Tuesday nights, so he gets an evening to himself every week. I (rather bluntly) suggested he find something to do one night a week, or even every other week, so I could have an evening alone, too. We agreed that Thursday would be a good day for that. Yesterday was Thursday.
So, I packed the dog in the car and drove to the craft store. I spent an hour chatting with the lady and picking out pretty scrapbooking stamps and papers. Spent a wad of cash. Then I stopped at the bank. And ran to the grocery store.
With all my running around done, I came home, in no particular hurry.
I could smell the barbecue when I pulled in the driveway.
The first thing out of T's mouth when I walked in the door was "Sorry!"
"Sorry for what?"
"For being late. You aren't mad? I thought maybe you were mad. My phone died, and I couldn't call."
"Me? Mad? Hell, no...I was shopping"
"Oh. Whew. Thanks for being sane..."
And, with this, I got a hug and a great big kiss. I do not know what sorts of women he has been hanging out with, if he considers me exceptionally stable and sane. I told him I thought he was out playing Scrabble with his friend J, as per our conversation a couple weeks back. He said "No, if I do that, I will call for sure."
Later in the evening, I pointed out that the best thing about our relationship (to me) is that it's just like being single, but less lonely. He places no demands or ultimatums on me. I can do what I want, spend my time and money however I like, and hang out with anyone I choose. Mr Wonderful (an ex) stayed here on the weekend with his new girlfriend. T had no issues with this, and, afterward, decided he quite liked both of them. What a sweetheart. He really does fit into my life...
Monday, July 30, 2007
Play
T has no sense of play.
In my family, play is just a given. Mom still starts water fights in the kitchen (though, in her devious wisdom, she always hands a mop to a kid afterwards, and is good for another week...), and granny, at the tender age of 82, could still be found chasing my younger cousins around the farmyard with a hand-made elastic gun.
T doesn't do these things. For a guy who doesn't really want to grow up, he hasn't got much of a handle on how to stay a kid.
Yesterday was a birthday. One of T's nephews turned 2. The party included both of T's brothers, their wives, 5 kids between 6 years and 3 months, and T's parents. I hadn't met T's brothers, yet.
We did the introductions, then I escaped the scrutiny by taking the kids out to meet my dog, who loves little guys. Then we ate. Birthday cake and present opening followed. Then...
Then T's brothers brought out a slip'n'slide for the kids, perfect on a 30 degree day. T's mom started handing out water guns, too. The brothers trooped back inside and changed into swimsuits, and proceeded to show the little guys how it's done. I was wearing jeans, looking on jealously and sweating, but one of the kids shot me, and I 'died' so dramatically that I got hosed down pretty thoroughly.
T sat in the corner, trying to protect his camera from the spray.
T's mom was trying to get him to join his brothers, but he just wasn't into it. I may have discovered a natural ally, however; she stated that she would go if T did. I made big eyes at T and said that I would also go, jeans and all, if he and his mom went first. The pair of us badgered him until T rolled his eyes, took off his shirt, and did a half-hearted plunge at the slide. Then his mom and I went about five times each, while T returned to the corner.
I just don't get this. I'd have been the first one on that damned slide, if I weren't trying so hard not to embarass T in front of his family. Of course, I am finding them a little less reserved, lately, but still. He just doesn't know what to do with my silliness, and I don't know how to deal with his lack thereof...
In my family, play is just a given. Mom still starts water fights in the kitchen (though, in her devious wisdom, she always hands a mop to a kid afterwards, and is good for another week...), and granny, at the tender age of 82, could still be found chasing my younger cousins around the farmyard with a hand-made elastic gun.
T doesn't do these things. For a guy who doesn't really want to grow up, he hasn't got much of a handle on how to stay a kid.
Yesterday was a birthday. One of T's nephews turned 2. The party included both of T's brothers, their wives, 5 kids between 6 years and 3 months, and T's parents. I hadn't met T's brothers, yet.
We did the introductions, then I escaped the scrutiny by taking the kids out to meet my dog, who loves little guys. Then we ate. Birthday cake and present opening followed. Then...
Then T's brothers brought out a slip'n'slide for the kids, perfect on a 30 degree day. T's mom started handing out water guns, too. The brothers trooped back inside and changed into swimsuits, and proceeded to show the little guys how it's done. I was wearing jeans, looking on jealously and sweating, but one of the kids shot me, and I 'died' so dramatically that I got hosed down pretty thoroughly.
T sat in the corner, trying to protect his camera from the spray.
T's mom was trying to get him to join his brothers, but he just wasn't into it. I may have discovered a natural ally, however; she stated that she would go if T did. I made big eyes at T and said that I would also go, jeans and all, if he and his mom went first. The pair of us badgered him until T rolled his eyes, took off his shirt, and did a half-hearted plunge at the slide. Then his mom and I went about five times each, while T returned to the corner.
I just don't get this. I'd have been the first one on that damned slide, if I weren't trying so hard not to embarass T in front of his family. Of course, I am finding them a little less reserved, lately, but still. He just doesn't know what to do with my silliness, and I don't know how to deal with his lack thereof...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
By Popular Demand
...I guess some folks missed me.
It's hard to generate news when you're busy being domestic. The big accomplishment lately has been the pair of us learning to barbeque, which isn't exactly breaking news. I also find I'm not comically inspired when I'm not mildly pissed off. Go figure.
We did have a 'moment' yesterday.
I got an email at work that my department is recruiting for the rebuilding effort in Afghanistan. I love a challenge, and I have traveled quite a lot in Muslim countries, and loved every minute of it. I looked up the death toll for foreign civilians, and the year-by-year rate was about the same as for the highway I commute to work on every day. I have to admit, I was interested.
I forwarded the email to T, thinking we could discuss it when I got home.
I arrived to T's level stare. "A year in Afghanistan, huh?"
Uh-oh.
I am not quite sure what reaction I had expected, but it certainly wasn't what I got. T is quite guarded with his emotions, and I guess I had him pegged as an uber-independent type. I guess I was wrong.
He stormed off to shower, not even really looking at me.
Eventually it all came out that he feels happy and stable for the first time in forever. He felt like that would be abandonment. He knew how interested I would be, and was frustrated with the situation, because he felt that expressing himself would be tantamount to holding me back.
I finally got across to him that I was just opening a discussion, and had not made up my mind.
In the end, he said he hadn't realised how important I had become to him, and felt really shaken by his own emotions.
Today, I came home to a bouquet of hand-picked field daisies, tucked into a pop bottle on the table.
I guess I'll be staying home...
It's hard to generate news when you're busy being domestic. The big accomplishment lately has been the pair of us learning to barbeque, which isn't exactly breaking news. I also find I'm not comically inspired when I'm not mildly pissed off. Go figure.
We did have a 'moment' yesterday.
I got an email at work that my department is recruiting for the rebuilding effort in Afghanistan. I love a challenge, and I have traveled quite a lot in Muslim countries, and loved every minute of it. I looked up the death toll for foreign civilians, and the year-by-year rate was about the same as for the highway I commute to work on every day. I have to admit, I was interested.
I forwarded the email to T, thinking we could discuss it when I got home.
I arrived to T's level stare. "A year in Afghanistan, huh?"
Uh-oh.
I am not quite sure what reaction I had expected, but it certainly wasn't what I got. T is quite guarded with his emotions, and I guess I had him pegged as an uber-independent type. I guess I was wrong.
He stormed off to shower, not even really looking at me.
Eventually it all came out that he feels happy and stable for the first time in forever. He felt like that would be abandonment. He knew how interested I would be, and was frustrated with the situation, because he felt that expressing himself would be tantamount to holding me back.
I finally got across to him that I was just opening a discussion, and had not made up my mind.
In the end, he said he hadn't realised how important I had become to him, and felt really shaken by his own emotions.
Today, I came home to a bouquet of hand-picked field daisies, tucked into a pop bottle on the table.
I guess I'll be staying home...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sex and other random things
I have been saying for awhile now (though never in earshot of another boy) that the sex with M was probably the best I was ever going to get. I am thinking of revising that statement. Technically, sure. He had a knack for doing just the right thing for the moment. But, you know, he didn't want to be with me, didn't want any future. Sure, we cared about each other, but it was in a rather...restrained way.
T isn't the most experienced guy. He says he's not fussed about it, as long as it doesn't bother me. Nah. Less bad training to try to undo.
T wants to be with me. T wants a future. T is a quick learner.
Mmmm...yeah...
Last night, I was out at a meeting until past my usual bedtime. T was sleeping when I got home, and I crawled into bed, but couldn't get to sleep myself. I got up again, not wanting to wake him with my tossing and turning. I kept having all these thoughts about T, the pair of us, and life in general. So I wrote him a note, and leaned it up against the coffee pot where I knew he would find it in the morning. I was trying not to get too sappy - T is still nervous about 'mushy stuff', but I don't know how well I succeeded. He seemed happy enough - he woke me with a big kiss and a 'thank you for the note'. I really like it when he smiles at me like that...
T isn't the most experienced guy. He says he's not fussed about it, as long as it doesn't bother me. Nah. Less bad training to try to undo.
T wants to be with me. T wants a future. T is a quick learner.
Mmmm...yeah...
Last night, I was out at a meeting until past my usual bedtime. T was sleeping when I got home, and I crawled into bed, but couldn't get to sleep myself. I got up again, not wanting to wake him with my tossing and turning. I kept having all these thoughts about T, the pair of us, and life in general. So I wrote him a note, and leaned it up against the coffee pot where I knew he would find it in the morning. I was trying not to get too sappy - T is still nervous about 'mushy stuff', but I don't know how well I succeeded. He seemed happy enough - he woke me with a big kiss and a 'thank you for the note'. I really like it when he smiles at me like that...
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Moved In
Well, T. is more or less all moved in.
Friday and Saturday were the big days - a truckload from his place, then a trip to his parents' on Saturday to collect a couch they had been storing for him.
T's parents scare me. They are very religious, and I am very...not. T decided a long time ago that Christianity didn't do it for him, though both his brothers are still practicing. I don't have a problem with religion, but I just have no exposure, and am not interested in being converted. It is difficult to remember that T's parents honestly believe T's immortal soul is in major and immediate danger, though it does occasionally explain their reactions to things.
Saturday, I was leery of going with T to get the couch. However, his parents invited us (both of us!) for dinner, so I couldn't really back out.
Actually, the dinner went quite well. T's dad was as friendly and chatty as last time, and his mom was much more relaxed, for some reason. T took his dad out back to move the couch, leaving me with his mom, and we chatted about crafts for half an hour. The parents needed their truck back right away, so they followed us out to my house and wrestled the couch downstairs.
When they went to leave, T's mom gave him a hug...then gave me one, too. I guess it will be okay.
In other news, domestic bliss has been the order of the week. I mentioned to T how impressed I was that I really only had to tell him once about doing his 50%. I've had to remind him a couple times about little things that drive me crazy, but he really is getting it right most of the time. "Well, I told you to give me a little time to change," he said indignantly. I reminded him that I am not good at taking people's word for things. I believe in action. Now, I've seen action, and I must say things are looking a lot more hopeful. T is suddenly domestic, vaccuuming and doing dishes and calling on his way home from work to see if he should stop at the store to pick anything up. It's pretty sweet, actually.
I think he's a keeper.
Friday and Saturday were the big days - a truckload from his place, then a trip to his parents' on Saturday to collect a couch they had been storing for him.
T's parents scare me. They are very religious, and I am very...not. T decided a long time ago that Christianity didn't do it for him, though both his brothers are still practicing. I don't have a problem with religion, but I just have no exposure, and am not interested in being converted. It is difficult to remember that T's parents honestly believe T's immortal soul is in major and immediate danger, though it does occasionally explain their reactions to things.
Saturday, I was leery of going with T to get the couch. However, his parents invited us (both of us!) for dinner, so I couldn't really back out.
Actually, the dinner went quite well. T's dad was as friendly and chatty as last time, and his mom was much more relaxed, for some reason. T took his dad out back to move the couch, leaving me with his mom, and we chatted about crafts for half an hour. The parents needed their truck back right away, so they followed us out to my house and wrestled the couch downstairs.
When they went to leave, T's mom gave him a hug...then gave me one, too. I guess it will be okay.
In other news, domestic bliss has been the order of the week. I mentioned to T how impressed I was that I really only had to tell him once about doing his 50%. I've had to remind him a couple times about little things that drive me crazy, but he really is getting it right most of the time. "Well, I told you to give me a little time to change," he said indignantly. I reminded him that I am not good at taking people's word for things. I believe in action. Now, I've seen action, and I must say things are looking a lot more hopeful. T is suddenly domestic, vaccuuming and doing dishes and calling on his way home from work to see if he should stop at the store to pick anything up. It's pretty sweet, actually.
I think he's a keeper.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Settling In.
Well, the countdown is on until T officially moves in...at the end of the month...in 4 days. Right at the moment, all it will change is the amount of furniture in the house. He hasn't slept at his own home in weeks.
Since I snapped at him about housework, we had a little discussion about what, exactly, constituted 50%. Little things, like doing the dishes includes drying them and putting them away. Like I don't want all the mental responsibility for tracking which chores need to get done, or having to ask him to do them.
I gotta hand it to him, the boy learns fast.
This weekend, we went for a nice drive, then Sunday was cleaning day. We both just got at it. Monday, I had a girlfriend over for supper. I cooked, we ate, then I took my girlfriend out to show her the backyard. By the time we got back inside, the dishes were done. I coulda kissed him. In fact, I did.
Yesterday, we were both exhausted from work. We dug some leftovers out for supper, then sat in side-by-side comfy chairs, reading. He was dozing off, and it was only 6:30, so I offered to make him a coffee. As I went to stir in the sugar, T came up behind me and gave me a big hug.
"Aah, domestic bliss," he said.
Indeed.
Since I snapped at him about housework, we had a little discussion about what, exactly, constituted 50%. Little things, like doing the dishes includes drying them and putting them away. Like I don't want all the mental responsibility for tracking which chores need to get done, or having to ask him to do them.
I gotta hand it to him, the boy learns fast.
This weekend, we went for a nice drive, then Sunday was cleaning day. We both just got at it. Monday, I had a girlfriend over for supper. I cooked, we ate, then I took my girlfriend out to show her the backyard. By the time we got back inside, the dishes were done. I coulda kissed him. In fact, I did.
Yesterday, we were both exhausted from work. We dug some leftovers out for supper, then sat in side-by-side comfy chairs, reading. He was dozing off, and it was only 6:30, so I offered to make him a coffee. As I went to stir in the sugar, T came up behind me and gave me a big hug.
"Aah, domestic bliss," he said.
Indeed.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Good morning.
T. and I went out for drinks and a few games of pool last night. This is becoming a cherished tradition, in my mind...it is a fun evening, every time.
We came home early, though, as T had to work this morning. Not THAT early, mind you, but earlier than usual.
T got up before the alarm went off. I heard him turn it off, then dozed off again. Next thing I know, he's leaning over the bed, giving me a kiss goodbye.
"Don't worry about the dog," he said, "I already took her out to pee. Sleep in if you want."
I did.
When I did finally crawl out of bed, the stuff for coffee was all set out on the counter, and he had taken the garbage out. He's not home yet, but when he arrives, he'll be getting a great big kiss...
We came home early, though, as T had to work this morning. Not THAT early, mind you, but earlier than usual.
T got up before the alarm went off. I heard him turn it off, then dozed off again. Next thing I know, he's leaning over the bed, giving me a kiss goodbye.
"Don't worry about the dog," he said, "I already took her out to pee. Sleep in if you want."
I did.
When I did finally crawl out of bed, the stuff for coffee was all set out on the counter, and he had taken the garbage out. He's not home yet, but when he arrives, he'll be getting a great big kiss...
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Peaks and valleys
I am much more stable when I'm single.
A couple days ago, I was floating, realising I'd finally found a guy who was serious about getting serious.
Today, not so much.
T got a random day off work; due to a slowdown, there was nothing to do. We found out at 0730.
At 0815, I had already petitioned my boss for a half-day off.
At 0930, I was on the phone with T, hearing that he had finished the dishes, and was moving on to the vaccuuming.
At 1000, the boss agreed to the half-day.
At 1030, T and I were back on the phone, planning an evening together.
At 1130, I discovered an important meeting would be happening at 1300, and I couldn't miss it.
At 1430, I finally got out of the office, full of anticipation.
At 1445, we were both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, playing on our computers, at his request for some 'down time'.
At 1700 hours, I ran to the grocery store.
At 1930, I got up and put in a load of laundry. As I sat back down, I asked T if he would like to do something. He declined.
At 2030, T snuck off to bed.
I am sitting here in my livingroom, wondering why I wasted the holiday time to take part of a day off work. I was really eager to come home, but when I got here, he seemed utterly disinterested. I started out being fairly okay with that; he'd busted his butt cleaning house, and I could understand wanting to sit and relax for a bit. Once it started to drag on into hours of quality time with the computers, I started to get a bit pissy. I just don't get it: why plan an evening with me, convince me to take time off work, then ignore me when I get home? Now that he's gone to bed without even saying goodnight, I am seriously considering pulling out the fold-out couch...why sleep next to someone you'd rather kick?
I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow, but I sure hate being ignored.
...And he's going to be moving in at the end of the month?!?
A couple days ago, I was floating, realising I'd finally found a guy who was serious about getting serious.
Today, not so much.
T got a random day off work; due to a slowdown, there was nothing to do. We found out at 0730.
At 0815, I had already petitioned my boss for a half-day off.
At 0930, I was on the phone with T, hearing that he had finished the dishes, and was moving on to the vaccuuming.
At 1000, the boss agreed to the half-day.
At 1030, T and I were back on the phone, planning an evening together.
At 1130, I discovered an important meeting would be happening at 1300, and I couldn't miss it.
At 1430, I finally got out of the office, full of anticipation.
At 1445, we were both sitting on opposite ends of the couch, playing on our computers, at his request for some 'down time'.
At 1700 hours, I ran to the grocery store.
At 1930, I got up and put in a load of laundry. As I sat back down, I asked T if he would like to do something. He declined.
At 2030, T snuck off to bed.
I am sitting here in my livingroom, wondering why I wasted the holiday time to take part of a day off work. I was really eager to come home, but when I got here, he seemed utterly disinterested. I started out being fairly okay with that; he'd busted his butt cleaning house, and I could understand wanting to sit and relax for a bit. Once it started to drag on into hours of quality time with the computers, I started to get a bit pissy. I just don't get it: why plan an evening with me, convince me to take time off work, then ignore me when I get home? Now that he's gone to bed without even saying goodnight, I am seriously considering pulling out the fold-out couch...why sleep next to someone you'd rather kick?
I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow, but I sure hate being ignored.
...And he's going to be moving in at the end of the month?!?
Monday, June 4, 2007
Parents
T has only ever introduced one girlfriend to his parents. It's a big, important step for him, and one that makes him very, very nervous. I told him quite awhile ago that I wasn't fussed about it one way or the other, that it could happen in its own time.
Then we decided to shack up.
T's parents are religious. Not just 'go to church once in awhile' religious, either. Really religious.
I told T that I'd rather meet his parents before I officially became "Devil Woman" by living in sin with their son.
Last night, I met the parents.
T's dad, G, shook my hand in both of his. T's mom looked like she was going to hug me, though I fended that one off. Apparently T having a real, actual girlfriend is a big deal. I was a little nervous, but managed to hold up my end of the conversation, and dinner was very tasty, which gave me something to focus on. I was very careful not to swear or take the Lord's name in vain. I didn't dig in to the food until after the prayer had been said. I managed not to embarass T too badly.
Actually, afterward, T said he thought they really liked me.
"Just wait till they meet my mom," I grumbled.
Sitting at home, later, deconstructing the evening, I mentioned to T that I am concerned about how his parents will react to the news that we are shacking up.
"They'll just have to get over it," T replied, "since you're going to be part of the family."
**melt**
Then we decided to shack up.
T's parents are religious. Not just 'go to church once in awhile' religious, either. Really religious.
I told T that I'd rather meet his parents before I officially became "Devil Woman" by living in sin with their son.
Last night, I met the parents.
T's dad, G, shook my hand in both of his. T's mom looked like she was going to hug me, though I fended that one off. Apparently T having a real, actual girlfriend is a big deal. I was a little nervous, but managed to hold up my end of the conversation, and dinner was very tasty, which gave me something to focus on. I was very careful not to swear or take the Lord's name in vain. I didn't dig in to the food until after the prayer had been said. I managed not to embarass T too badly.
Actually, afterward, T said he thought they really liked me.
"Just wait till they meet my mom," I grumbled.
Sitting at home, later, deconstructing the evening, I mentioned to T that I am concerned about how his parents will react to the news that we are shacking up.
"They'll just have to get over it," T replied, "since you're going to be part of the family."
**melt**
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Sugar
I am starting to see that I have lived alone long enough that shacking up is going to be...interesting.
I got up this morning, made coffee, poured my cup, added cream, then...aak! The sugar bowl was empty! No sugar in the cupboard, either. Dammit, coffee's no good without lots and lots of sugar! AAAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!
I knew I was running low. I even had it on the shopping list. I figured that if I ran out before grocery day (tomorrow), I'd stop by the convenience store on the way home from work and get some. I knew I'd know before I ran out, as I had enough to fill the sugar bowl once more, so I didn't worry about it.
Except that T did the 'right thing', and filled the sugar bowl when it got empty. Had I noticed him doing so, it wouldn't have been a big deal. However, I didn't see, so I hadn't bothered to get more, 'knowing' that there was that last little bit.
Sigh.
I got up this morning, made coffee, poured my cup, added cream, then...aak! The sugar bowl was empty! No sugar in the cupboard, either. Dammit, coffee's no good without lots and lots of sugar! AAAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!
I knew I was running low. I even had it on the shopping list. I figured that if I ran out before grocery day (tomorrow), I'd stop by the convenience store on the way home from work and get some. I knew I'd know before I ran out, as I had enough to fill the sugar bowl once more, so I didn't worry about it.
Except that T did the 'right thing', and filled the sugar bowl when it got empty. Had I noticed him doing so, it wouldn't have been a big deal. However, I didn't see, so I hadn't bothered to get more, 'knowing' that there was that last little bit.
Sigh.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Spill
Well, a whole evening without T. This may actually kinda suck.
He is at his own home, as his roomie's daughter is having a birthday party. Apparently she's pretty attached to him. It's interesting that he feels a certain sense of responsibility toward her. I like that. It's a good sign.
Funniest thing, one minute I worry that he might be getting into my head, next thing, I'm agreeing to shack up. I think perhaps he put something in my coffee that morning. The worst bit is that I'm not even having second thoughts - I am excited to start moving the furniture around.
Since our little tiff, we have had conversations about a few things. It went much better, though I probably still lack tact. He is going to try to learn not to get defensive when I have 'that tone', which sets him off, but may or may not actually mean I am annoyed.
I noticed that in the last couple of days, he has started picking up his empty beer bottles and putting them in the recycle bin, set out a new bar of soap in the bathroom when the old one finally dissolved, and laid a (machine washable) blanket down on the couch before sitting down in his filthy work clothes. There's hope, at least.
We have started establishing little routines. We go for long drives and longer walks on Saturdays (if he's not working) or Sundays. Somewhere away from town, places with trees and water. We wander riverbanks looking for pretty stones. He waits patiently while I take pictures, and only rolls his eyes about half the times I point the camera at him. Recently, we have started going to the pub near my house and playing pool. When I cook, he washes the dishes.
He is starting to fit more comfortably.
The other morning, we were standing in the kitchen, and he came up behind me and gave me a hug. I turned to face him. He always looks away when our eyes meet when we're doing that. He says it makes him feel 'mushy'. This time, he looked down at me and told me he was afraid I might be 'the one'. **melt**
This might just work out okay.
He is at his own home, as his roomie's daughter is having a birthday party. Apparently she's pretty attached to him. It's interesting that he feels a certain sense of responsibility toward her. I like that. It's a good sign.
Funniest thing, one minute I worry that he might be getting into my head, next thing, I'm agreeing to shack up. I think perhaps he put something in my coffee that morning. The worst bit is that I'm not even having second thoughts - I am excited to start moving the furniture around.
Since our little tiff, we have had conversations about a few things. It went much better, though I probably still lack tact. He is going to try to learn not to get defensive when I have 'that tone', which sets him off, but may or may not actually mean I am annoyed.
I noticed that in the last couple of days, he has started picking up his empty beer bottles and putting them in the recycle bin, set out a new bar of soap in the bathroom when the old one finally dissolved, and laid a (machine washable) blanket down on the couch before sitting down in his filthy work clothes. There's hope, at least.
We have started establishing little routines. We go for long drives and longer walks on Saturdays (if he's not working) or Sundays. Somewhere away from town, places with trees and water. We wander riverbanks looking for pretty stones. He waits patiently while I take pictures, and only rolls his eyes about half the times I point the camera at him. Recently, we have started going to the pub near my house and playing pool. When I cook, he washes the dishes.
He is starting to fit more comfortably.
The other morning, we were standing in the kitchen, and he came up behind me and gave me a hug. I turned to face him. He always looks away when our eyes meet when we're doing that. He says it makes him feel 'mushy'. This time, he looked down at me and told me he was afraid I might be 'the one'. **melt**
This might just work out okay.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Absence...
...really does make the heart grow fonder.
I was gone on a conference for work last week, and, whaddya know, but I missed T. Quite a bit, actually. And he missed me, too. After one particularly draining day, all I really wanted was to curl up in his arms. Instead, I phoned, and we agreed to do that when I got home. And we did.
Sunday morning was a lay-in-bed kinda morning, something we've never really done before. We snuggled on the bed, just chatting about 'stuff'. Stuff like hopes and fears and goals, the deep things that don't really just come out in conversation. As we were chatting, my head on his chest, I realised I haven't felt that close to someone in a long, long time.
Then he brought up moving in together.
That one was slightly shocking. Shocking-good, mind you, but it came as something of a suprise to me that he would want to step things up, somehow. I've spent too many years around commitment-phobic guys, I suppose. I told him I needed a little more time, but by the end of the conversation, we had pretty much agreed on August.
Oh, my.
I was gone on a conference for work last week, and, whaddya know, but I missed T. Quite a bit, actually. And he missed me, too. After one particularly draining day, all I really wanted was to curl up in his arms. Instead, I phoned, and we agreed to do that when I got home. And we did.
Sunday morning was a lay-in-bed kinda morning, something we've never really done before. We snuggled on the bed, just chatting about 'stuff'. Stuff like hopes and fears and goals, the deep things that don't really just come out in conversation. As we were chatting, my head on his chest, I realised I haven't felt that close to someone in a long, long time.
Then he brought up moving in together.
That one was slightly shocking. Shocking-good, mind you, but it came as something of a suprise to me that he would want to step things up, somehow. I've spent too many years around commitment-phobic guys, I suppose. I told him I needed a little more time, but by the end of the conversation, we had pretty much agreed on August.
Oh, my.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Communication
Well, after a couple days' break, we went out last night. Not really a typical date - clothes shopping and dinner - but fun. We chatted about random stuff. Including the fact that he had screwed up his courage and asked his boss for a raise, and that he had a plan for dealing with the psycho roomie.
Oh, and that I hate it when he leaves his dirty work clothes on the bathroom floor, and don't appreciate picking up after him.
Then we came home and had great sex.
Funny how communication seems to facilitate these things.
I am really not quite sure what to do about this guy. I don't know if I am overly prepared to write him off, if this is growing pain that is normal in a new relationship, or if there really are legitimate concerns. I have no concept of what a healthy new relationship really feels like. It's been too long, and I think I am getting cagey about having someone in my life and inside my head. Maybe I am less tolerant of quirks, having been more-or-less happily on my own for several years. I am afraid of losing my sense of independence, the feeling that if he disappears, things will keep chugging merrily along, with a slightly adjusted weekend routine, which is how out-of-town dating seems to go for me.
When Mr. Wonderful and I broke up, it took years for me to feel like I was really going to be okay on my own. I don't think I have given anyone a fighting chance since then.
Whether T is 'the one' or really only the fourteenth is pretty immaterial. It boils down to what I can cope with, how vulnerable I am willing or able to be. I know it can't go anywhere if I don't allow it, but I gotta admit, it sure ain't easy...
Oh, and that I hate it when he leaves his dirty work clothes on the bathroom floor, and don't appreciate picking up after him.
Then we came home and had great sex.
Funny how communication seems to facilitate these things.
I am really not quite sure what to do about this guy. I don't know if I am overly prepared to write him off, if this is growing pain that is normal in a new relationship, or if there really are legitimate concerns. I have no concept of what a healthy new relationship really feels like. It's been too long, and I think I am getting cagey about having someone in my life and inside my head. Maybe I am less tolerant of quirks, having been more-or-less happily on my own for several years. I am afraid of losing my sense of independence, the feeling that if he disappears, things will keep chugging merrily along, with a slightly adjusted weekend routine, which is how out-of-town dating seems to go for me.
When Mr. Wonderful and I broke up, it took years for me to feel like I was really going to be okay on my own. I don't think I have given anyone a fighting chance since then.
Whether T is 'the one' or really only the fourteenth is pretty immaterial. It boils down to what I can cope with, how vulnerable I am willing or able to be. I know it can't go anywhere if I don't allow it, but I gotta admit, it sure ain't easy...
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Backbone.
T. has a crazy roommate. Not in the 'crazy-cute' way, but in the 'crazy-psycho' way.
T's roomie refuses to give him a housekey, even though he is paying rent. She is apparently quite upset with the amount of time he hasn't been spending at home. T thinks she is lurking in their flat, waiting for him to come home so she can pick a fight.
My first thought: you don't have a key to YOUR OWN HOME?!?
T just looked sheepish and shrugged.
T has been sleeping at his parents' place rather than going home, because he doesn't want to deal with a pissed-off roommate.
My second thought: where is your backbone, sweetie?
My third (and most concerning) thought: if you can't deal with a pissed-off roommate, and go so far as to buy new clothing rather than going home in order to avoid a fight...what is going to happen when I actually get mad about something?
Hmmm.
T's roomie refuses to give him a housekey, even though he is paying rent. She is apparently quite upset with the amount of time he hasn't been spending at home. T thinks she is lurking in their flat, waiting for him to come home so she can pick a fight.
My first thought: you don't have a key to YOUR OWN HOME?!?
T just looked sheepish and shrugged.
T has been sleeping at his parents' place rather than going home, because he doesn't want to deal with a pissed-off roommate.
My second thought: where is your backbone, sweetie?
My third (and most concerning) thought: if you can't deal with a pissed-off roommate, and go so far as to buy new clothing rather than going home in order to avoid a fight...what is going to happen when I actually get mad about something?
Hmmm.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Forgetting
They say that if women could accurately remember the pain of childbirth, no-one would ever have a second child. I have no experience with that sort of thing, but I am thinking that if I ever remembered the pain of dating, I would never have another boyfriend.
It's not even pain, so much as pain-in-the-ass. With M., it was that he never put the toilet seat down. With Mr Wonderful, it was that he was forever dragging home stray cats that our landlady didn't allow, and we couldn't afford the vet bills on anyway. Little things. But annoying.
Like when I see the results of T drying his not-quite-clean hands on my good hand towels.
Or when he washes the dishes, but doesn't dry them or wipe the counter.
And then there's the interpersonal crap. The differing beliefs or expectations or communication styles. The misunderstandings.
Last night, we were laying in bed. I have some health problems that were bothering me. He asked if I was in pain, and I said 'yes'. He started tossing out 'solutions' that 'we' were going to use to make me 'better'. I stated that they would not work. I neglected to mention that I knew this for fact because I had tried them. He told me I was defeatist.
I told him to never, ever, make blanket statements on topics he knows nothing about.
I managed to haul my 'defeatist' ass through a dozen countries in as many months, at age 29, solo, after everyone told me I was crazy to go to Africa and the Middle East alone. I have survived, and left, abusive relationships. I work in a male-dominated, demanding job in a place where women are expected to be barefoot and pregnant. I managed to complete one entire degree. Defeatist. Hrumph. T clearly has a lot to learn about me. I can't currently think of a more offensive thing someone could say to me...
That one little comment still has my blood pressure up. And I'm still trying to figure out which bit of Sunday's conversation lacked tact...
It's not even pain, so much as pain-in-the-ass. With M., it was that he never put the toilet seat down. With Mr Wonderful, it was that he was forever dragging home stray cats that our landlady didn't allow, and we couldn't afford the vet bills on anyway. Little things. But annoying.
Like when I see the results of T drying his not-quite-clean hands on my good hand towels.
Or when he washes the dishes, but doesn't dry them or wipe the counter.
And then there's the interpersonal crap. The differing beliefs or expectations or communication styles. The misunderstandings.
Last night, we were laying in bed. I have some health problems that were bothering me. He asked if I was in pain, and I said 'yes'. He started tossing out 'solutions' that 'we' were going to use to make me 'better'. I stated that they would not work. I neglected to mention that I knew this for fact because I had tried them. He told me I was defeatist.
I told him to never, ever, make blanket statements on topics he knows nothing about.
I managed to haul my 'defeatist' ass through a dozen countries in as many months, at age 29, solo, after everyone told me I was crazy to go to Africa and the Middle East alone. I have survived, and left, abusive relationships. I work in a male-dominated, demanding job in a place where women are expected to be barefoot and pregnant. I managed to complete one entire degree. Defeatist. Hrumph. T clearly has a lot to learn about me. I can't currently think of a more offensive thing someone could say to me...
That one little comment still has my blood pressure up. And I'm still trying to figure out which bit of Sunday's conversation lacked tact...
Monday, May 14, 2007
Tiff
T loves his Scrabble. He goes to competitions, and actually practices daily. He writes out lists of words to memorise, and has an anagram program on his computer that he uses to help him study. His next competition is in June.
I think it's pretty cool. People who are passionnate about things (even things I don't really care about) are just more interesting to spend time with.
However.
However, it seems like we have been spending entirely too much time sitting side-by-side on the couch, him practicing Scrabble, and me playing video games. Sometimes, after a long day at work, this is a necessary thing, and it's a relief that he doesn't feel ignored when the only thing I want to do is spend some quality time with Civilisation III. But I don't want it to become a routine.
This weekend, T was doing his Scrabble thing, and I was puttering around the house, cooking and cleaning and organising - weekend stuff I like to do. I wasn't fussed that he was playing, as he had worked 6 days last week, and overtime most of them, to boot. I kind of planned to pamper him a little.
Every time I got going on something, though, he got up to help.
I got annoyed - I felt like I was guilting him into doing housework, but really I just wanted to get a few things done. I did not want his help. I did not expect him to do anything.
I bit my tongue at first, but brought it up a little later, when I wasn't feeling so snappy. Told him I didn't want to feel like I was coercing him into helping, but didn't want to sit on my ass all day, either. While I was at it, I mentioned that maybe we should spend time together when we wanted to see each other, and not get caught up in the side-by-side computer games...Suggested he stay home on nights that he really wanted to focus on Scrabble practice.
T seemed pretty upset.
Later, he mentioned that it would be easier to have these discussions if I were more tactful about it.
I forsee a problem.
Tact and subtlety really aren't my strong suits. Not that I'm a jerk about things, but I tend to be quite direct. Direct like: "This is bothering me. This is why. Here's what I propose we do about it" sort of direct. Apparently, this is disturbing. I am not quite sure how to word things much more 'nicely' without missing the point of whatever I was trying to say.
Aah, well. In the end, we agreed that when we're together, we will do things together, and save the computers for the wind-down hour before bed. Hopefully, problem solved...
I think it's pretty cool. People who are passionnate about things (even things I don't really care about) are just more interesting to spend time with.
However.
However, it seems like we have been spending entirely too much time sitting side-by-side on the couch, him practicing Scrabble, and me playing video games. Sometimes, after a long day at work, this is a necessary thing, and it's a relief that he doesn't feel ignored when the only thing I want to do is spend some quality time with Civilisation III. But I don't want it to become a routine.
This weekend, T was doing his Scrabble thing, and I was puttering around the house, cooking and cleaning and organising - weekend stuff I like to do. I wasn't fussed that he was playing, as he had worked 6 days last week, and overtime most of them, to boot. I kind of planned to pamper him a little.
Every time I got going on something, though, he got up to help.
I got annoyed - I felt like I was guilting him into doing housework, but really I just wanted to get a few things done. I did not want his help. I did not expect him to do anything.
I bit my tongue at first, but brought it up a little later, when I wasn't feeling so snappy. Told him I didn't want to feel like I was coercing him into helping, but didn't want to sit on my ass all day, either. While I was at it, I mentioned that maybe we should spend time together when we wanted to see each other, and not get caught up in the side-by-side computer games...Suggested he stay home on nights that he really wanted to focus on Scrabble practice.
T seemed pretty upset.
Later, he mentioned that it would be easier to have these discussions if I were more tactful about it.
I forsee a problem.
Tact and subtlety really aren't my strong suits. Not that I'm a jerk about things, but I tend to be quite direct. Direct like: "This is bothering me. This is why. Here's what I propose we do about it" sort of direct. Apparently, this is disturbing. I am not quite sure how to word things much more 'nicely' without missing the point of whatever I was trying to say.
Aah, well. In the end, we agreed that when we're together, we will do things together, and save the computers for the wind-down hour before bed. Hopefully, problem solved...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)