And he’s all moved in. And the cats. And about 1/4th of his stuff.

He was very good about letting me decide what comes and what does not come. I basically took a few pieces of furniture that I thought were useful. For the rest, he told me to go through it and decide what I wanted. My response was, “Alright, which of these things are important to you?”

He pointed out a few things as being meaningful to him. I told him that those things could come to my house. Everything else can go to charity. What’s the point of keeping things that don’t mean anything to you?

That doesn’t mean I said, “Oh, you have no emotional attachment to your underwear? In the bin it goes!” No, his personal items came, too.

It’s funny, sitting here, munching on fudge that Adam gave me, and thinking about what I should do next, I thought about writing this, and then I thought how nice it is to have a place where a person can be completely self-absorbed.

Nowhere else in life is it ever appropriate to be totally self-absorbed. If you can’t do it in your own journal, then where can you?

So, anyway, back to me.

The move went quite smoothly. Our friend Christine came. I adore Christine. Maybe she reminds me of some relatives; big and German.

Adam and I were in the airport waiting for my cousin’s flight to land several weeks ago, and I told him that I would be in the ladies room, but if he saw my cousin get off the plane, he should stop her. He said, “I’ve never seen her before! I won’t know who she is!”

As I walked away, I called over my shoulder, “Just look for a tall, blond that looks just like me!”

He muttered to himself, “Tall and blond… yeah, that describes you perfectly.”

Then he met her and he later said, “Wow, she’s tall and blond, yet, she does look just like you! It’s so strange!”

I also lived in the Midwest awhile. What is life without a 6 foot blond around?

Well, it’s more that she’s fun and smart and interesting.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling a little crowded. I’m just not accustomed to all of this stuff and other people’s schedules and cats. Of course, it’ll take some time. I lived alone for about 6 years and liked it.

I am happy to share, but it makes me nervous somehow. Transitions make me nervous.

Life is about change, though. I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of eternity with no transitions. I wouldn’t want to wake up 40 years from now looking at the same withered old cats (which would likely be taxidermied by then) and using the same old desktop that I built in 2002.

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Monday, Aug. 25, 2008 at 9:33 AM