Sunday, March 15, 2009

looked at

I went to look at a house yesterday. I liked it, but the person with whom I've agreed to be a roommate has not yet seen it. I should think she'd like it, but I can't know that without her seeing it and agreeing.

The house is a good deal and in a location I love. I'll admit that it puts me in easy walking distance of two bars I tend to frequent occasionally, but it's even less of a walk to a playground and small park.

I know and am friends with the person renting the upstairs of this house, and that proximity to this person and people around her would be good for me.

The house itself is beautiful, over a hundred years old, full of wood and mantels and huge doors and a claw foot bathtub.

I'm pretty sure I could move in almost immediately. I met the owner yesterday, and he and I seemed to get along well enough, the forty year age difference not seeming to play any part at all. We ended up wasting the better part of an hour wandering through the house more times than we needed to, commenting on the beauty in the architectural features, admiring his work in hanging blinds and working around the more than a century gap between those windows and modern windows, and they don't make curtains that long anymore.

Not rushing into a deal of course sounds like a good idea, but I want to give the proper amount of credence it deserves, no more and no less. Because I really want this space, but I don't want to be an idiot about it. Am I overlooking cons in favor of the pros? Am I intentionally ignoring anything I know should be a deal breaker? I really don't think so.

So the problem is aligning potential landlord with potential roommate. I only know what she tells me, and I'm not sure how antsy she is to move compared with how antsy she claims. I know she just moved into a place and has no lease and wants to get back closer to town rather than being in some other county that I couldn't place though I am familiar with its existence.

And that's where I am as of right now. I can't stop thinking about this house, and I really want to move, like now. I feel sometimes as if I've put this off much too long, but I also fear the next big cut, the moving out, the total separation that comes with actually starting life not somewhat attached to this woman I've . . . actually, I don't know that this is the post for that conversation. Yes, there's still a weirdness attached to this whole thing. I guess it's just one of those situations where a good thing sort of feels like a bad thing in the here and now.

things I don't do

Nothing much happened this past week, or so it seems, but then quite a bit happened as well. Momma got a car, and I finally looked at a place to live other than the one I am now in. I didn't hang out outside the square very much other than the night I went to the bar that has all too often proved unsafe for me, and I didn't dance.

As we all should know by now, I don't dance. I accept that there is a point I could find at which I may feel okay about dancing, but as the social function it is on a packed dance floor with too loud music that I don't actually like is a recipe for too much for me.

Other people do not have any issue with dancing, and for them I can accept that it's none of the ways I think about it. It isn't an unpleasant place for them but is in fact an enjoyable portion of their evening out.

Too often though people don't get or just won't accept that I don't dance. They want me to, and they tell me all the good things that will come of dancing. I was even offered the chance to meet all of a particular friend's "gay boys" if I would just come with her. To make matters worse for me was that this group of people were at the farthest point in the dancing throng that one could get. I really wasn't wading through that to get to them.

I suppose I sort of do wonder if getting over it and dancing might not be good for me, but I also hate that I should have to. I don't get why anyone would act as though they need me to dance. I don't need their presence next to me to sit at the bar and drink beer and talk to people.

And sitting here thinking about it, what I most prefer is moving around, running into people I know, just hanging out. So, next time we hang out, remember that. I don't dance, but don't I don't care if you do. Go! Have fun.

Oh, and you aren't yet getting the story just now about this particular bar at which I seem never to have a good time. I've collected a couple of stories about this place from other people. Some are similar to mine while others are just messed up in relation to mine and those like it.

So, yeah, mysterious foreshadowing what?