Saturday afternoon, paul and i plunked down cash for our new pad that we will be sharing with his sister, Ivette.
Now, here is where it gets somewhat interesting. When we moved into our current pad, we had to plunk down 2 months worth of rent plus the deposit because at that time our credit was so shitty. In the 15 months since we have been living here (has it really been that long already??), I’ve been working my ass off on improving both my credit and helping paul establish his. The road has been rough and in that process I’ve learned a few things about myself. For instance my need for must have handbags and must have shoes. i also don’t need all the clothes I’m apt to buy (but whine it was on sale!) and the host of other things we have around our apartment.
i noticed this really prevalently when we were in Miami for Christmas. We brought back so much loot (including my lovely new visor that I adore the living hell out of), that I drug (is that even a word in this context?) Brian to the mall with me to go shopping for a new suitcase because the three we brought with us was simply not enough to ship our shit back home. What loot we got! Nearly new 20 dvds, books, clothes, candles, visor, a scooter (that paul promptly broke), toys, games, money; we made out like bandits on Christmas day. Not including all the shopping sprees I did when I was there because “everything was on sale” and had to have this red velvet skirt. I have enough clothes now to clothe a small nation. You know, like China.
when we came home and unpacked, i looked around our apartment and noticed all the “crap” we had. stuff that we bought on whims that wasn’t necessary at the time nor is it necessary now. I’ve been purchasing storage boxes just to toss all this crap in so that we can move everything to the new apartment in a much more smoother fashion than when i moved into the old pad.
all the stuff that can be used to decorate my cube, I’m taking with me to work tomorrow. All the papers I’m so found of keeping (you know, credit card bills, receipts, stuff like that); I’ve gone out and bought a shredder and have already shredded my way through five garbage bags of stuff. Next is the magazine collection (ugh, never again will I subscribe to any magazines!). Then it’s the books. I have no idea what I’m going to be doing with all the books that I’ve purchased over the years. I’ve been looking and eyeing our current bookcase (which literally takes up one whole wall of our apartment) and it’s already overstuffed with books and crap. I’m thinking we’ll end up throwing that bookcase into our new bedroom and buying something new for the living room.
it’s all about spending money isn’t it? I’ve been looking for design programs to help design our new living area so that i know what to keep and what to toss, and then it comes down to how much freaking money I’m willing to spend for this item or that item. it was like this apartment was our starter apartment and now that we are moving on up in the world, i can no longer allow myself to have pictures of darthmaul on the door.
pauly is my co-pilot
you get the feel for someone after you’ve been living together for awhile. I’ve started getting such a good feel for the way that paul acts and behaves that I’ve started intoning before he ever does anything. “no paul, we are not spending 300 bucks on a tivo.” or “no paul, we are not going to eat Mickey d’s on our diet.” you know, shit like that. now I’ve started ribbing him about “pauly is my co-pilot” since doesn’t drive so he assumes that he is automatically in control of the car dashboard while he bitches about my one handed ability to drive a car and look for cigarettes. next up on the list, before we kill each other, is paul getting car driving lessons and his own car. he wants a durango. if anyone thinks that i will be co-signing my name to a loan for a 2001 durango while i drive a 1998 Saturn, must be smoking some serious crack.
on the topic of books, paul made me read “already dead”, the California gothic and I’m dying from all the “lush symmetry” and the “beautifully chosen way he has with words”. it’s like, when people write, why can’t they write for the sake of writing. it’s goddamn boring.
but it’s spring and I’ve got ants in my pants. nothing could satiate me now.