Boy Meets Girl...In Their Bathroom...Every Morning

"Over the course of the average lifetime
you meet a lot of people. Some of them
stick with you through thick and thin.
Some weave their way through your life
and disappear forever. But once in a
while someone comes along who earns a
permanent place in your heart” -- Wonder Years

Boy meets girl in 7th grade. Girl thinks boy is tall, dark, and handsome-of course, all according to 12 year old standards. Flash forward a decade and some change and boy and girl (who are now "grown" and will be considered as guy and gal, as they are not quite old enough, or married, to be considered man and woman) are living in a very spacious house. Complete with "guy room" filled with mini fridge, large t.v. essential to adequately play two gaming systems, surround sound to echo the woes of Call of Duty soldiers dying at video game controlled hands, and scantily clad cheerleaders plastering a wall or two... rambling? maybe, a little...

So, guy and gal are living happily together right? Half-right. Well, 85% right. Gal loves living with guy 85% of the time. Below is the break down:

100% of the time minus:

3% of the time when guy leaves socks, shoes, dirty clothing, etc. strewn about rooms other than the aforementioned guy room (although, I'll give a percent or so back if money is found. Gal likes morning coffee and is trying to maintain a budget. This is considered free money and does not count toward budget).

2% of the time when guy "forgets" and leaves his glass on the coffee table causing their dog (because someone once let him drink out of their cup) to tip over said cup, spilling the contents onto the newly purchased, very fashionable, hardly usable (because it's mostly stained on one side due to the dog), rug.

5% of the time when both laundry baskets are vomiting their contents onto the floor and guy is glued to the television, video controller in hand, even though guy has been home 45 minutes longer than gal because she went to the gym and then ran to the grocery store to pick up dinner.

1% of the time when guy fills the room (again, room other than his very own guy room) with pungent odors that would choke the dead and cause gal to flee the room for safety (a.k.a. fresh air).

4% of the time- this is the miscellaneous category. This includes gal having to wake up and go to sleep with ESPN on the television, guy eating the last of gal's favorite cookies, and guy refusing to watch sports on his guy room television when gal REALLY wants to watch HGTV on the downstairs tv so she can plan out their future home.

Sarcasm and humor aside, I really do enjoy living with him. We've been together almost half our lives and I can't imagine picking up anyone else's dirty boxers. I love waking up to the smell of breakfast on Saturday morning because he's thoughtful and loves me (and can only cook pancakes and eggs). I love that he's added my favorite movies to our queue on Netflix and he'll wait 6 weeks, without complaining, for me to watch the movie because he knows I have to be in a certain mood to concentrate on a tv for more than an hour and a half.

The struggle to live together was really nothing more then a misconception born within a preconceived notion. The preconceived notion that nothing was really going to change since we had been "technically" living together (misconception) for years. However, and this is a HUGE however, at some point we always allocated the other some "alone time"; albeit whether it was actually alone or with friends, we knew in the back of our minds we each had our own place. And I do miss having my own place from time to time, in fact, at one point I sat outside on our steps, sobbing to my mom, screaming about how messy he is and how I was stuck and had no where to go (a bit over dramatic? nooo, not me, never!).

5 months and two paint changes later to our room and we're now in search of our forever home...or at least our "5 year starter" home. And when we move in there, I'm sure my fairy-tale dreams of a dish-free sink will be shattered once again within days, but you know what, I'm just looking forward to eating a breakfast I didn't cook, with a man (er, guy) that I love at our kitchen table...completely naked.

Time to give in and go play Call of Duty ( I secretly love that game, don't tell the guy, shit, he reads this)...oh well, I've rambled on way too long.

Jess 1, Real World 0

Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up. -- Wonder Years

I've toyed with the idea of blogging for over a year now. I've set up an account twice and then sheepishly backed out at the last moment, similar to the stereotypical situation where the red rose lapel wearing man stares aimlessly around, in search of the woman donning her red rose (meanwhile, she has snuck out the back door of the restaurant)-wait, did I start to ramble already?

Back on subject-so today, I've taken the plunge, unlike the lady who snuck out the back door, and have decided to commit to this blog. While, I couldn't commit to a particular topic (I contemplated one revolving around the politically savvy, but my wiser better-half suggested otherwise, although politics will creep into my writing from time to time, reader beware!) I've decided to blog about the life of a twenty-something.

Twenty something is an interesting age group. It's a decade of transition. In my case, the transition is from college graduate to adult. I'm responsible for earning wages, appropriately dispensing said wages to various bills, saving for my future home, all the while attempting to maintain my twenty something lifestyle (rich in moderate (not quite fine) dining, the latest fashion trends and electronics, and a nightlife).

It's a period of getting to know yourself-I've found out I have above average culinary skills and I'm not quite as scared of marriage as I once was (yes, gasp!) And while the idea of "growing up" is still terrifying to me, I'm enjoying this transition period, this getting to know "me" period. As should everyone in their twenty somethings. At this point, life can take you wherever you want to go. It's the time to challenge your base, expand your mind, and take the chances that you wouldn't necessarily be able to take when you're forty something.

Don't get me wrong, being an adult can utterly, for a lack of better term, blow at times. I have credit card debt, I can't decorate my room in polka dots or other fun "girl" decor because my live-in boyfriend refuses to sleep in purple sheets, and when laundry hasn't been done in a month, I'm the one slaving over 6 loads. But all an all, the entrance into adulthood hasn't been too painful. I have a decent job (one that I love actually), I live in a decent neighborhood (with a man I love), and I'm walking a clearer line between social drinker and alcoholic. Yeah, growing up might just be okay.

Well, I've rambled enough for today and my boyfriend is biting at the bullet to read this, as I've shooed him away because I can't type while he's standing behind me-wait there I go again rambling....