TO THE ROOF!

This week Fiancé and I discovered the joys of furniture assembly and arrangement as a couple. There was a whole lot of "No, really, the couch should go here," followed by "Oh my god, you were so right, this is all wrong, let's put it back the way it was," and then "That looks awful, doesn't it? Maybe we should just put it all on the roof and call it a day?" The biggest issue is that we live in 200-year-old tiny farm house with tiny rooms and crooked walls and we bought a bunch of modern-sized furniture from Ikea that doesn't fit in said tiny farm house with tiny rooms and crooked walls. Plus, we have double the amount of stuff now that we're living together. So, I'm suggesting we put stuff on the roof.

Fiancé: You mean the attic?

Me: What? No! It's haunted up there. I mean the roof.

Fiancé: Why?

Me: Because we have too much furniture right now.

Fiancé: So you want to put it on the roof?

Me: Yes.

Fiancé: How are you going to get to the roof?

Me: A ladder. Or magic?

Fiancé: What furniture is going up there?

Me: At least some chairs. We have too many chairs.

Fiancé: Oh, like the designer chair you got from your sister?

Me: NO! I love that chair!

Fiancé: I have a feeling that you just mean my furniture.

Me: You said it, not me.

Fiancé: I think we can put the shoe trunk on the roof. I hate that thing. It's dangerous, it smells weird, and it's impossible to find any of our shoes in there.

Me: I agree. That furniture plan did not work out. It's going on the roof.

Fiancé: Great. Except... It has all of our shoes in it. I don't want to go up on the roof without any shoes.

Me: TOO BAD IT'S ALREADY DECIDED I'M GETTING THE LADDER!

Cohabitation is going really well, you guys.

***

In other news, I wrote a piece about Book Guilt and it's over on Books, Ink's Hamlet Hub. Go check it out, but only if you want to!

And now I live in a hotel with a squirrel named Stanley.

It's official: HE'S ALL MOVED IN. His apartment is still in chaos, of course, but as of July 3rd, Boyfriend is a Connecticutian! HOORAY! I'm sure fantastic stories will follow about his adjustment process to living in Stars Hollow. I know that people were actually walking up to his parents while they were moving him in to ask all sorts of questions because this is small town life and when we see something, we say something. It's sort of like an airport in that way (and in no other way at all).

What makes this extra special is that he moved in over the Fourth of July weekend and it turns out that this tiny town actually puts on one hell of a fireworks show, so we walked over to the high school to check those out and I'd be lying if I didn't feel like the fireworks were actually in celebration of our own personal momentous occasion and not just the birthday of our great nation. It was pretty spectacular.

Also, now that we live so close to each other, Boyfriend thinks we should get Walkie Talkies. I am not against this idea.

Anyway, all this moving in and setting up apartments has gotten me all inspired to start doing stuff around my own house. While Boyfriend and I were on vacation, my friend Zoe watched the house and the dog and, being a chef/restaurant manager, she was appalled at my lack of a system in my kitchen, which is fair seeing as how my general process is this: "I need to put this somewhere... where does it fit? Ah! In this cupboard." This is regardless of what else is in that cupboard.

And the fridge is just a pile of cold things, let's be honest.

So as an early birthday present, Zoe came over yesterday and drank beer with me while we organized my kitchen. And now it is beautiful. IMG_3682

Zoe's personal favorite area is the coffee corner: IMG_3688

Mainly because it has this feature: IMG_3689

Zoe says it makes her feel like she's in a little hotel. I also think the fact that there is a squirrel involved has something to do with it because he is adorable. His name is Stanley.

So yeah, I guess this week has been pretty major. Boyfriend is living in town now and I officially live in a hotel.

With a squirrel.

Named Stanley.