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I like living with other people.I’m an only child and I grew up in a big sprawly house in a big sprawly neighborhood, and both felt mostly empty most of the time. College dorms were a revelation. Someone to talk to, guaranteed, even at three in the morning. People in the lounge in pajamas. Friends cooking more than enough to share.
Since then I’ve always chosen to live with people. I’ve been handed seamlessly from one house to the next, and with only one exception they’ve all been great. In Brooklyn I lived with two fabulous gay boys and their miniature dog and all their hair products, and in Amsterdam I lived with Francesca from Italy who had never made pasta. Even when Beth and I moved to Eugene and found our very own place, we decided to rent out a room. I like having people around.
Which is why it’s surprising how much I’m enjoying living alone. By which I do not mean that I am Getting By. I mean I am really enjoying living alone. I can’t rent the extra room yet as I originally planned, because there is so much work to do on the house, and because renters might request things like heat and use of the kitchen sink. But I really don’t mind at all. Between work and classes and soccer and kickball and friends and assorted Portland diversions, I’m hardly home anyway. So when I do get home it’s nice to turn up the radio and throw my sweater on the floor and drink from the juice carton. In fact, I’m kind of turning into a bachelor.
My fridge is a bachelor fridge: beer and takeout and condiments. My “bed” is on the floor. There are tools everywhere. And I’ve found myself saying bachelor things, things like, I’m not seeing other people, but I’m not Not Seeing Other People. Things like, I love you babe, but I’m just not sure we can make it work right now. And after these things come out of my mouth I go home by myself and it feels Good.
And I can’t say with certainty that I prefer living solo to living with housemates, because despite the pleasures I’d probably still opt for the company. But instead of causing me to feel lonely, living alone has actually made me feel delightfully in control. My music, my schedule, my space. My how glad I am it’s spring.
posted by tortaluga @ 1:59 PM
4 Comments:
hmmm.
interesting.
i miss living alone.
it must be spring.
I hereby demand less fixing your house and more blogging about fixing your house.
more blog more blog!!
Yeah. I was sympathetic with the lack of blogging for awhile, but this is getting ridiculous...
In NY now with the grandmas. One's house is falling apart left'n'right. We need you here to fix it. I'm not equipped with the skills... someday maybe I'll get a fix'r'upper of my own and learn...
Hope you're well.
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