It's been almost 3 months since the last roommate saga. That one moved out the day after I wrote that, and I haven't had one since. There was a girl who was supposed to move in...she actually moved some stuff in shortly after the room was vacated, but she never quite made the full move. A friend of a friend came by this morning to check the place out and it looks like he'll be moving in the next couple of days. I'm definitely a bit gun shy after that first experience, but he seems harmless enough so far. He also works about 13 hours a day, as he just started a new business, so that means he has the most important quality in a roommate I don't know very well. He won't be here too much.
Please cross fingers and toes that I don't have another psycho on my hands.
I wrote at the end of July about the drunken version of my otherwise mild-mannered roommate. Roy is an ass. I knew it was just a matter of time before he showed his face again, and he did exactly that last weekend. I'm done with him, and unless there is quickness with the moving out, accompanied by embarrassing amounts of apologies and sweetness, I'm done with the otherwise sweet person in which Roy resides as well. It's a complicated situation, as he works for the ex, but I'm not going to get into all of that. I just know that I want him out, and the sooner the better.
It's ironic because I just had a long conversation with the roomie about his drinking; specifically my concern for him. I didn't think it would have any real effect, as those of you who have known serious alcoholics can relate to, I'm sure. Still, I thought it wouldn't hurt to express some concern for his well-being. Wrong. It was the next day that Roy came out to prove my point. I'm just sick to my stomach about the whole thing, and have only become calm enough to write about it now. But now I'm not so calm just thinking about it. In fact, I would like to barge into the room he's sleeping in and kick him in the chin. Instead, I will read myself to sleep. Ahhh wonderful sleep...eraser of all that is crappy.
The whole truth rears its ugly head. I have written about how ideal the roomie situation is, and make no mistake, I have been waiting for this "aha" moment. I have a fair bit of cynicism in me, in case you haven't noticed, so it's not a huge shock to find there there is a potential threat to the homelife happiness with the new roomie. It turns out that this (fully grown up, non-frat boy) man sometimes decides to drink to the point of personality disorder. This is not just my own personal observation, but one that is well-known amongst friends who have known him for many years. There is, in fact, a name for his alter ego. On Saturday, I met "Roy", the drunken, belligerent version of my sweet, well-mannered roommate. It was an unpleasant meeting.
We went out for some cocktails, closed the bar, and at 3ish am, headed back home, with 2 of his friends tagging along. Did I invite them back? No. I was, however, ok with it because if I got tired, I'd just excuse myself and head to bed. Or so I thought. When we got home, he disappeared into his room with one friend, leaving me to entertain the other. For over an hour. It was almost 5am at this point, and though the friend was nice and we had good conversation, it was just time to sleep, and I felt obligated to stay up because this guy was there. Finally, the roomie reappears, more drunk than when we first came home. I had every intention of saying my goodbyes and making my exit, when "Roy" showed up, rehashing some nonsense event earlier in the evening and getting unreasonably upset about it. His friend walked over, put his hands on his shoulders (the way one would do with a child mid-tantrum), and tried to calm him down. This just makes Roy more angry, and he starts to yell. Ok, enough. I told him to take his drunk ass to bed, it's 5am, we have neighbors who don't want to hear him yell any more than the rest of us do. He finally skulked off to pass out. I quickly rid myself of the pair of friends and went to sleep myself.
I fully expected an apology the next day, but instead, the roomie quickly and silently left the house without making eye contact. I figured he was just embarrassed about the situation. Fine, he should be, we'll talk later. BUT, he came home late last night, and there he was again...Roy, again with one friend from the night before. This time, he was more sensitive and whiny than belligerent and screaming, but Roy nonetheless. He tried to explain his behavior the night before, because he was upset that I "just started yelling at him", and I told him that we could discuss it when he was sober. I had to say this at least 4 times, because he was insistent on telling me how his feelings were hurt by my unprovoked attacks. He finally gave up, slammed his door and played his music at a ridiculous volume, with his friend rocking along. I knocked and peeked in once, to ask him to please turn it down, because we have neighbors who have to work in the morning. He turned it down for 3 seconds, then it shot right back up, the two of them scream-singing along. 10 minutes later, the doorbell rang, and sure enough, it was a neighbor asking if we could "at least turn the bass down". I apologized profusely for my roommate, and threw open his door. I was forced to play "Bad Mommy" to this fully grown man, again, acting like an insolent teenager.
We had a chat today about it. He was very apologetic, and I just explained that drinking was not an activity I'd be enjoying with him. I also told him that there was no grudge, but that I wasn't about to let it become a regular activity. Roy simply is not welcome in my home. We shall see what happens...
Why my Roomie doesn't suck
Posted by elizabeth at 12:22 AM Labels: a rare poker moment, boys, roomieHad a date on Saturday that pretty much lasted the entire day (more on that later), which left me feeling pretty lethargic Saturday night. So I was home, roomie was home, and I was having myself a little pity party, missing living in Manhattan. He asked what I missed so much, and I said, "Well, right now, for example..I should be able to walk down the street at 11pm and get a really good meal", to which he replied, "Well, we could be at Blue Ribbon door-to-door by train in about 12 minutes." Well, I didn't time it, but truly, it was quick, and I appreciate him reminding me of how ridiculously close I really am. Though once we were walking around Soho, he had a bit of his own pity party missing living in the city as well. We got over it though, and are quite happy where we are. Neither of us had a pool in Manhattan. We do now. Also, he walked the puppies tonight while I was visiting my dad for Daddy's day. Thumbs up to him.
Saturday date was with the cute young boy, who of course now gets the CYB acronym. Second date was way more promising than the first, which just goes to show that it was wise to not dismiss him based on the lukewarm first date. Frankly, I laughed my ass off, even while in the Frick Museum, which was highly inappropriate, according to the security people who shushed us several times. Despite the stringent no-fun-allowed policy, I still recommend it. It's unmuseum-like in that the works aren't behind glass or ropes, but still very much displayed as they were when the Fricks were alive and living there. We had lunch at Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. I'd never been there, and I absolutely love the Grand Central Building. It's just so beautiful, and I don't find reason enough to go there, being that I don't ever travel through. All in all, a well-planned day by CYB, and he was witty and sweet and a gentleman, which I can't figure out at his age. I mean, I know men much older who are completely unaware of what chivalry is, much less who practice it. He's a door-opening, around-broken-glass guiding, on-the-traffic-side-of-the-street walking guy. It's cute. He is, however, leaving for Hawaii for 5 weeks tomorrow morning, so there will be no more of him til then.
And a PS for my poker playing friends who have to hear me bitch about how much I suck lately: Home game was Friday, and though I got knocked out 3rd in the first game, the 3 of us started a side game, tourney style, which I won, so I left up a little bit. I was the winner of the losers, which is better than just a loser. So there..i only suck a little.
As the title suggests, I've had several cocktails. This means that any spelling/grammatical errors must be excused. Ok then, now that that's out of the way:
Awoke to drama surrounding the ex's restaurant. There was yelling and firing and nonsense that should not have included me. Since the firing was of the current rommate, I was forced to play peacemaker. All that was settled. Proceeded to have champagne brunch with my fabulous and very gay dog walker, who is delightful and funny.
Roomie was playing at the ex's restaurant tonight with his band. I went by to show my support. This was a fun thing for a couple of reasons. I got to see this kickass band live, after hearing roomie rehearsing his part to the band's cd constantly. They're good. They named a song after me. Very cool. I also got totally picked up on by a cute, very tall boy. I say boy in this instance because he is younger and adorable. We are having lunch at some point this week.
I'm sleepy and it's time for bed. May expound on this all tomorrow.
Blogger has been acting funky, so just getting to this page to update has been an exercise in foot-tapping, under-breath swearing frustration. Yet, I braved it just for you. Here's what's new.
MWP is now defunct. His potential to be sketchy just wasn't sitting well with me, and I decided it just wasn't worth worrying about. When things are that new, it should all be sunshine and flowers, and shouldn't take a whole lot of effort. So, that's that. NEXT.
Roomie situation is great so far, much better than I could have hoped. He does cook, cleans up after himself, walks the puppies, and got the floor fixed, as promised. In order to fix the floor, disconnecting the TV and all the stuff hooked into it..surround sound thingy, DVD player, cable, Airport Extreme became necessary. The thought of disconnecting all that stuff gave me heart palpitations, as it took literally hours and hours to get it all hooked up and working properly to begin with. Today, after the floor was finished, the roomie came home, took about 7 minutes and hooked everything back up. Nice. So I am now in the process of building some shelving for all that ancillary equipment, and we're going to mount the flat screen on the wall. Something I've wanted to do since I've moved in, but just haven't gotten around to it.
Also still working on the website concept for my work. I appreciate the input from all, truly. I just haven't found anything that's really moved me yet. Some suggestions have fueled some other ideas, though, and I contacted an ad guy I know. Most of his business is branding and marketing, so I'm hoping if I give him the ideas I've liked, he can mold them into something workable. When his first response was simply "Use your name", I was a bit disheartened, but after having a conversation about what my philosophy is behind my art and design, I think he gets it. Will let you know, as I'm sure I'll be looking for feedback as the site develops. Hmm what else?
Oh, the car (that's actually the ex's car) was broken into for the 4th time or something ridiculous. Nothing of value is ever in it, and it's fairly impossible to steal the damn thing, even once you get inside, if the 4th attempt and failure is any indication. But still, they try, and in the process, they kill the lock cylinder. This time, when they mangled the cylinder, they jammed it into a position that makes the car act posessed. You see, the car has an option where you can insert key into door, turn it all the way to the right, and the windows and sunroof all open. Kind of a nice idea for when the car has been parked in the baking sun for an extended period. Anyway, the cylinder was jammed in that position, so that as I was driving around, the door locks would lock and unlock repeatedly, and when I would park the car and get out, the windows and sunroof all opened. Pretty freaky if you don't know what's causing it. So, I dropped it off yesterday to be exorcised of its demons, and they gave me a cute little loaner car. The guy handed me a "key" to the car, and I just stared at it, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with it. Turns out, keys are so last season. This thing slides into a little slot in the dashboard and you push the start/stop engine button. Very cool. I now have key envy. Or lack of key envy..whatever.
Ok, so here's how things are going. He moved in, lots of stuff for a little room, no idea how he plans on getting a bed in there. The base of some gigantic computer desk thing is still in the middle of the living room. He promises it will be moved today. There have been a few good points so far:
- Peace offering: He came home yesterday with a couple of really good bottles of wine, which were consumed and enjoyed immensely.
- He was up early this morning, took the dogs out, made coffee, and washed wine glasses that were left in the sink because my drunken,sleepy ass couldn't be bothered to do them last night.
- Mac geek: Unbeknownst to me, he apparently is a complete mac geek, who owns pretty much every bit of mac software one could want or need (for his 5 computers..hence the giant desk). He also builds websites. This could be a very, very good thing, since I very much need a website built for my art stuff.
- He is buddies with the guy who basically runs the entire building, which means any little thing wrong with the place will be fixed immediately. (living room parquet floor is buckled in 2 spots, for example). Gotta like that. We'll see how his connections actually work out.
So, so far, so good. Ok, now, participation is required by you folks. I'm having a hell of a time trying to figure out what to call my website for the art stuff. Here is the basic principal of what I do, hopefully some of you can be far more creative about naming the site. I design and fabricate all sorts of metal fixtures, small home objects and fine art. Lighting fixtures, furniture, small sculpture, fountains...pretty much anything that would be found in a home or garden. My main medium is steel, though I will use other metals when appropriate for the individual piece. A large focus of my work is that it is completely custom. I design each piece to fit the space it is made for.
My artist statement, as seen on all of my commission proposals:
After studying at the New School in Manhattan, I continued to work out of the Sculpture Studio, until it was forced to close and move from Manhattan to Queens in 2002. In 2004, I moved into my own studio space in Jersey City, where I have been fortunate enough to produce commissioned works in lighting fixtures, sculpture and small objects. It is my belief that the spaces in which we dwell should be treated as a canvas and everything we fill those spaces with should speak to us and of us. That is my goal in creating functional art.
So, there you have it. I'd give you some examples of stuff I've already considered, but I don't want to taint anyone's creativity.
Contrary to Popular Belief, I Sometimes Feel Badly...
Posted by elizabeth at 9:42 PM Labels: boys, roomie...about making fun of CNG for his feeble attempt at reconnecting, believe it or not. I showed up this afternoon to open the yoga studio and it was already open. The whole -dating someone at the place where I find peace and sweat out my stress- probably wasn't the wisest idea. He is never there on the days that I am. It is, in fact, why I am there. Yet, there were his shoes as I opened the door that was left ajar. As I walked in and saw him sitting at the desk, I gave my best smiling face and asked how he was. (I'm not a total bitch all the time, you know) He responded with "Hi, thanks for returning my phone call yesterday." Oops. In my defense, other than the didn't-want-to-talk-to-you-anyway reasoning, he called while I was attempting to negotiate an apartment lease..more on that fun time in a moment. So, I was a little busy, and after that was over, I was hardly in the mood for fun chit chat with anyone, much less him.
He then proceeded to be flirty and attempted some cuteness. Amazing how once someone crosses that line with me, they completely cease being attractive, regardless of how good-looking. When he started to get the gist that the flirting was not being returned, he got all serious on me. Telling me that he put aside his bruised ego because he missed me and thought that I was worth putting that silly argument behind us. I tried, as gently as possible, to explain that it just brought to light the realization that we may be far too different to actually relate to one another on that level. At one point, I thought he was going to just cry, and it made me feel like shit.
Don't get me wrong, I don't plan on going out with him ever again, and it's not even like it was some long or even slightly intense romance. It was fun while it was fun, and then it just wasn't. The conversation ended with him saying I should call him if I decide to stop being stubborn. Blah.
So, the apartment thing. I did mention briefly that I may have to move. Here's the whole deal, and it's complicated and frustrating, and it reveals what is still my absolute lack of independence from the ex, which is something I'm not proud of. But it's the truth, and if I get to shit on other people for annoying me, I guess there's no harm in showing off some of my own crap to be mocked.
The apartment I'm in is actually one that the ex had been renting for the past couple of years, for managers at his restaurant. There were two girls who first lived here until they both got fired, then a guy who only lasted a couple months, and then a British friend of the ex's (who was also helping with the restaurant) and her teenage son. It was planned all along that the friend and son would be moving in with the ex (and me, so we thought) when the apartment was finished being renovated. Then the friend was going back to England when her son went to college, and he would either stay or not, depending on what school he went to.
Following this so far?
So, renovation was done, I was moving out, British chick and son moving out of apartment and in with ex..empty 2 bedroom kickass apartment. I had my new home. In a cute neighborhood I'm very comfortable in, because the restaurant is right around here, so I've spent plenty of time in the area. Win-win sitch for all. Oh, did I mention that the ex agreed to cover the rent for a year? Yeah, that's the part where my fierce independence is suddenly confronted with the cold, hard fact that I'm an artist who hasn't had to worry about an income for almost 7 years.
The problem here is that the lease is up at the end of this month. They are significantly jacking up the rent, as this area is exploding with luxury condos and apartments, being swallowed up by yuppies. I inquired about moving into a one bedroom in my building, and there was one available for slightly less than this 2 bedroom costs for the next few days. Spoke to ex, he agreed to sign a lease on the 1 bedroom, I thought I was made in the shade for a while longer. Until I went to get the paperwork in order. They are no longer allowing pets in the building, as of last year. Since this lease already had a grandfathered pet clause, it was fine that the dogs were with me when I moved in. They will not, however, enter into a new agreement (for a different apartment) with pets. If I stay in this apartment, the dogs can stay, because it's not an entirely new lease, just an extension of the existing one. What a bunch of bullshit mumbo jumbo, really. So, the rock and the hard place I'm between is finding a new place to live that allows 2 large-ish dogs (I've been looking, imfuckingpossible), or finding a way to stay here without the ex paying significantly more money.
The solution is a roommate. I've never had a roommate. Ever. Unless you count the 2 guys I've lived with in sin, which is less roommate, more playing house, so completely different. Just so happens that there is someone currently looking for a place and he needs to move immediately. No, it's not MWP. I'm not doing that again, even if we did know each other longer than a few weeks. I'm not an idiot. If I'm going to do the whole cohabitation thing, I'll just get married already. Jury is still way out on that ever happening. It's yet another manager from the ex's restaurant. I'm so torn. He's a nice guy, I think it could work, but the roommate/lack of privacy thing makes me nervous. *I'm totally willing to hear opinions/advice on the situation. Here are the pros and cons as I see them.
Pro Roommate:
Obviously, there's the not moving. Moving sucks.
The pool..yes, there's a pool...opens this weekend, so what a really terrible time to leave this building
The chances of my finding a place in this area with the dogs (and they are not negotiable, having outlasted several men and friendships) are slim to none, and in the meanwhile, this place would be on a month-to-month basis, which is a real financial raping. Sure, it's not my money, but I don't enjoy daily phone calls from angry ex asking when the hell I'm moving.
Potential roommate works most nights, promises to be clean, cooks, would have his own bedroom and bathroom, so not really in my personal space.
Con Roommate:
The unknown. I'm a grown woman, I'm not likely to get less set in my ways about how I want my home to be.
The thought of gettin freaky (I'm single, people) with someone else in my apartment able to listen (I'm also vocal, people) eeks me out a little
Boys are generally gross. It's only a matter of time before he does something boy-gross. These things can be forgiven when you're in love..when it's just some guy living in the same space? Not so much.
No walking around apartment semi naked.
Ok, I apologize for being so damn verbose. Just a lot going on in my head. Ugh, I'm never going to be able to sleep tonight.
*Really, people. Advice is needed, don't be shy. Even if I think your 2 cents suck, I will likely keep that to myself in this one little instance.
