my new boyfriend and my new apartment: compare and contrast
DATE OF ORIGIN
– first saw the new apartment on Monday 3 December 2006; knew within about 20 seconds it was the right one for me
– first met the new man on Tuesday 26 June 2007; knew within about 15 seconds he was the right one for me
SIZE
– the new apartment was smaller than the house I was about to sell, and that was good; I needed to get rid of 20+ years of clutter and move into a smaller space
– the new man was larger than the one I was recently divorced from, and that was good; I wanted a bigger man to hug etc.
FIRST NIGHT
– first night spent at the new apartment: Friday 16 March
– first night spent with the new man: Wednesday 25 July
THINGS NOT EVIDENT AT FIRST SIGHT
– the mousehole behind the stove; the noisy downstairs air-conditioner; the absence of hardware that would keep several of the windows open without putting stacks of books in them to hold the windows up; the clogged drain in the upstairs bathtub; the smoke that comes in the open window when people smoke on the bench outside the building; the terrible design of the kitchen, with very little workspace and a bizarrely-positioned sink; the mouseholes on the second floor
– he tends to get extremely busy with his work and push the woman a bit to the side of his attention, but once he turns his attention to her again, he’s full of romantic words; he likes to pay a lot for whatever he wants — taxis, nice cheeses, 40-inch flat tv screens, dessert and wines in restaurants, take-out foods — whereas I am frugal and prefer to walk or take public transportation, get the smallest screen I can happily live with, eat only a main course, and mostly live off yogurt, spinach, and apples; he talks a lot and is a bit long-winded and digressive, i.e., you ask him about x and he has a lot to say about x and then that reminds him of y and then he remembers something that just happened that day with y and it was a very emotional something and then before you know it he’s crying — literally — about a very emotional z, but you’ve never heard the answer to what you asked about x; he’s very truthful when you ask him, do you like this top? does my hair look better today? is my breath all right? do you like the way I dress? does that sound all right? etc.
DOUBTS
– there’s a lot less space than I originally thought; I’ll never be able to get rid of those final 19 boxes; my bedroom and my study are one and the same, and it feels as if I’m sleeping in the library, and not as if I’m working in the bedroom; the mice….
– three divorces: shouldn’t I be warned by my predecessors’ experiences? isn’t there a message in all that? once he was distinctly unkind and unfriendly (but only once in almost 4 months…); is he ever going to have enough time for me, what with his work, his children, his business life, his everything else? and by the time the children are not a daily Issue, he’ll be 80 years old — will he still be interested in sex then? because I’ll only be 70, and I’m sure I’ll be…; he’s tired more often than I am, and when he is, he’s more tired than I am
WHY MY FIRST INSTINCTS [POSITIVE] WERE RIGHT
– the location is incredibly good, probably the best I’ve ever had in my life; I had no idea what a fantastic neighborhood this was, with great stores, great people (all races, all incomes, all ages, all lefty!), and absolutely everything anyone could want in Manhattan within easy or interesting walking distance; the living room has twice held 22 people in crowded but therefore successful parties; everyone likes the downstairs space instantly, as soon as they enter; it feels cosy and architecturally interesting; the building is very well-run, with good, pleasant, helpful doormen and interesting-seeming neighbors, though I haven’t gotten to know them well because I live on the 1st (and 2nd) floors and ergo never take the elevator; I’m within a block-and-a-half of all the public transportation a person could ever want
– the sex is still good and I still find him very attractive (especially that hairy right shoulder….); he’s very smart and (almost!) always interesting to talk to; he has spent two very long periods with my family, once 3 hours with 22 cousins + mother + one child, and once 4 hours for my mother’s birthday party with her old friend and both my children, and he seemed to enjoy both occasions and he likes them all; in fact he didn’t complain at all about meeting them; my two ex-husbands (as I remember….it’s getting dim!) were less fond of spending time with my family; even in the midst of family trauma (his nuclear family), a busy work schedule, and business deadlines, he doesn’t forget me and sends messages; he always, always, asks me to order first in a restaurant: that is, when the waiter addresses him and asks, Are you ready to order? he points to me to indicate that I should order first. Yes, I’m a feminist, but that is so important to me, those good manners.
And last night when he got home, after an incredibly exhausting day (a shlep out to Long Island for stuff with lawyers, then a shlep back, a phone conversation with one of his children, performance teaching till 7:30 pm etc, followed by almost 4 hours with me, dinner and a dvd) he sent me an email message as soon as he got home: good night sweetheart mimi, you were quite loving - entertaining movie …i think the wine relaxed me quite a bit… love you, p
SIGNIFICANT EPISODES
– During my mother’s birthday party last week, my mother asked where a door (one she happened to be facing while she was eating dinner) led. Before I could answer, my younger child said, “To B—— Street.” That’s the street we lived on (in another city, not far from NY) as a family for 20+ years, the house I moved out of this past spring. That seemed to me to suggest that my child felt a connection, as if we could just open a door and be again on B—— Street. The fact that the living room furniture, the cake plate and silver cake knives, the whole birthday ritual etc. were all the same, probably helped, because this was the first family ritual we had in the new apartment. In fact the door just led to a closet of shelves that held kitchen junk.
– In early September, when Performer had returned to New York and I was getting used to his eating habits, I was appalled by them, upset that someone who was 5′9″ and weighted 200 pounds would have cheese and crackers, a steak, vegetables, and then sorbet and 10 butter cookies for dessert. The only time he got really angry, the time referred to above in DOUBTS, was when he complained vociferously that he didn’t like my comments, explicit and implicit, on his eating habits. I had already realized that and had already begun to retreat on that issue. Now I go out of my way to buy him the kind of cookies he likes, the nicest brand of Paulmier (Recette de Champagne), as well as very nice Bahlsen butter cookies. And he’s eating less meat and more salad; and he’s losing weight (in the 190s). He said he has been losing weight because of me…..
CONCLUSION
I think they’re both (apartment, man) keepers.
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CONCLUSION TO CONCLUSION
And why am I not losing weight because of him ??
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ANSWER TO QUESTION IN CONCLUSION TO CONCLUSION
Because the cookies that he doesn’t like are in my cupboard…
