Learning to live together (and apart)

I like to think of myself as a neat in my own way kind of girl; clutter makes me anxious, I don't mind doing laundry (esp with having a washer/dryer in the apt again, after NYC, huge luxury!) and once I get started organizing OCD-type tendencies will surely soon follow. That being said you'll probably find my clean clothes sprawled out all over the bed until I find the time/will/desire (I now find myself wanting to blog more-so than any other chores on my internal to-do list) to hang them up (in color coded fashion). For all my dear (and fit) friends who trekked the 5 floors up to see my NYC home/cubby-hole, you know when I say my room was the size of a walk-in closet, I'm not exaggerating. I mean, you saw the picture from my first post, I had to sit on my bed to get to my closet. But I loved it - it was mine, it was cozy and it was coordinated in earth tones, all things that make me truly happy.

Now that I have a large, built-in shelved closet (and 2 IKEA wardrobes to work with) I find myself dreaming up ways to store my clothes, scarves, belts, shoes and jewels, because let's face it, not having to crouch down into child's pose and finagle your favorite tank top out of a plastic storage bin shoved under your bed makes getting dressed a totally different experience. Now, I move onto to the point of this post...

I think we all hope the partner we choose is one that makes us better in every way, right? Well, the one I chose makes (read: guilts) me into wanting to be the tidiest I've ever been. Not only have I never lived with a boy, I've never lived with a boy who has to hang all his shirts, hangers facing the same direction, with the top three buttons buttoned (alternating every other one), a boy who has to fold the reusable bags we get from the grocery downstairs into perfect symmetrical squares for storage or a boy has to line up our shoes outside the door smallest to biggest, in a perfect row (just to name a few quirks) before he feels at ease. I could see him die inside a little when my make-up and toiletries were scattered all over the bathroom sink, cringe even more when my mascara, not fully removed after washing my face, rubbed off on the previously perfectly stark white bath towels and have to take 5-10 deep breaths when I got into bed and cocooned the sheets around me, creasing them and causing them to not lay perfectly straight/flat.

All that being said, we're learning, we're growing and we're making space for each other in our previously unattached lives and him in his previously solely-inhabited apartment. AH jokes "you signed up for this...for the rest of your life" when I shake my head or roll my eyes after witnessing the types of behaviors described above. But that's just part of him, and I love it. And (hopefully) he's learning to love me... and all my stuff (that now fills more than my 50% share of the apartment).

Sprucing up the living room

Girl-ifying the bathroom

First home-cooked meal in the apt and the first meal I made Anthony, Chicken Parm (he claims he liked it)

AH got back from a business trip in Hong Kong a few hours ago (will probably kill me for this post once he sees it) and was impressed with meal #2 as well. Good night for me and good Wednesday morning to you all!

xoxo,

Jess