Homes for All.

I think I might be in a bit of a funk. We're going out of town the next two weekends, which is convenient for my hobbit-like tendencies. Last night, CA and I went to this really fancy-dan Mexican restaurant to get dinner. I had really just wanted chips and guac and a margarita, which this restaurant does not have. It was delicious and we watched people take free salsa lessons there, but I was decidedly in the mood for cheap-ass salsa and margaritas out of a pitcher.

This past weekend, CA's sister and husband were in town and we spent the good majority of it watching football games. There are worse things, really. (: They came in Thursday night and we ordered Chinese and watched the FSU game. All rejoiced because they won. On Friday, we went to the little Italian place near my house for dinner and then went to look at our place. (Everything is almost completely taken care of...so now, it's a matter of finding furniture and...well, moving in.) We didn't get to go inside, but it still looks real pretty from the outside. She and her husband were confused because there was a hut next to our place, but I explained that it was sukkot and that the hut would not be there forever. Then they took the red line home and CA and I had a really nice quiet night at my apartment.

We listened to records, ate some cheese and crackers and then watched the first 4 episodes of 30 Rock (which he momentarily confused with 3rd Rock from the Sun...neither of which he had ever seen. I cleared up the problem by explaining that live comedy show = NOT aliens). He really enjoyed 30 Rock, which pumps me up and means that hopefully he'll watch it with me. (He will not, however, watch The Office which thankfully is back on iTunes...so when I miss episodes to watch the FSU game, I am still saved.)

We laid in bed, falling asleep to a record that he was really proud that he bought (a few months ago, we went to the Pulitzer Library sale and although we went for books, we ended up with like 50 bucks worth of records. I got some sweet Billy Joel stuff and the original cast recordings of both Hair and Sweeney Todd and CA bought mainly classical. The amazing part is that ALL of the records were in amazing shape...we've listened to nearly all of them now, and they're all great!) and I told him simply that I was never the kid who wanted a big wedding but I wanted someone who liked to do the things I liked, and that I could like the things that they liked. We laid there for a little while, talking about compromises and how he realizes that there's certain things (Spore, Civ, laying in boxer shorts) that I will probably enver enjoy that much. I too accept that he is never going to spend the afternoon reading poetry. But, I've come to really enjoy college football (don't ask me why, because I honestly couldn't tell you) and he has come to really like purchasing records. We've started watching shows together (Jurassic Fight Club, Mad Men, The Daily Show...) and we've started to read each other's books (Special Topics in Calamity Physics and Choke to name a few). We're adapting to each other.

(Which incidentally brings me back to my hermit-hood, in which I feel like I am spending all my spare time with him. Which, I guess, is not such a bad thing. Even though I feel like I am neglecting other people. I haven't had dinner with S in like a week and a half and I haven't seen EPS in weeks. And let's not get started on ANR now that she lives in bumblefreak. We talked about htis last night at dinner and it's likely that I should be more concerned about my hobit-hood. But, I'm not. It's likely that I should, though...)

Anyway, let me avoid talking about that any further by continuing to recount the weekend. On Saturday, we picked them up and went to Jerry's for lunch (which is one of the things I do miss about Wicker Park...) and then they had a bunch of drinks at The Boundary (which I had thought was going to be ridiculous but was actually really fun). We ordered some pizza at CA's and then he and I headed home to dance to Ray Charles and fall asleep early.

On Sunday, we went to a place in Roscoe Village for brunch called Kitsch'n which had all this retro seventies decor. It was really cute! We dropped them at the airport, looked at some couches and ate a really early dinner at Stella's with some cheese back at the apartment. I really don't think I have ever consumed so much cheese so steadily...

We're heading to meet his parents on Thursday, which should be a very interesting weekend. I guess the one thing that still befuddles me is that there's this whole other life before me. Before November 1, 2006...he was this person without me. He did not exist to me, nor did I exist to him. I relate this to watching the American flag flutter on Tribune Tower last night... those combinations of colors and stripes and patterns mean something to me, to other Americans, but if you had no affiliation, it exists as nothing to you. This idea of how arbitrary nothing and something is is really interesting and confusing to me.

We're using this woman, Lynda Barry, to teach in our curriculum. Her books 100 Demons and What It Is are both amazing and inspirational to our kiddos during writing class. But she asks all these questions of them--about what time is, and what memory is and if they're the same and different. Her 100 Demons is a variatinon on an old zen idea about writing and writing your demons until they're gone. We used this as a writing assignment for our kids--what was one of their demons?

Lynda's cartoon about finding a home from 100 Demons

A child asked me what mine would be and I said being alone. The more I think about it, it's easy to retreat into myself now, because there's someone else there. In Boston, I was all over the place, doing things and spending time with people. Now, not so much. Simply because when I come home at night, someone else is there. I feel like I can afford to be lazy, now, because I'm starting to believe that this is the right home for me, and that it's not going anywhere. At least, I hope it's not.