Our Place

I remember the first time Adrienne and I walked into the empty apartment. I can almost see us there, hand in hand wearing smiles that barely contained our anticipation, both of us eager to move into our first place together. As we walked across the bare hardwood floors, our steps echoed throughout the rooms. The whole apartment had a light colored décor that was instantly warm and welcoming. After viewing the place, we didn't need to say anything, we knew it would be our new home.

Being the travelers we are, we moved in with barely any possessions. Between the two of us, there were a couple of mattresses and some hastily packed boxes of clothes. We didn’t even have to rent a vehicle; a few car trips with some friends quickly moved us in. We didn’t have much, but we couldn’t have been happier. We were quite the unusual pair whose ultimate nightmare wasn’t being homeless, but rather owning a home.

Moving in was quite the commitment in more ways than one. For one, it was our first time living with one another. For both of us, this was our first real relationship. Speaking of commitment, in order to rent our ‘dream apartment’, we had to sign a 6 month lease (which seemed like an eternity to us). Despite our initial hesitation, we signed because we knew that life was going well; Adrienne had gotten the break she needed after months of job searching and had finally landed a new job that paid well. I was still enjoying my job and after being broke for so long in college, I was still getting used to the fact that I had expendable income. We were happy to have our own place together.

Soon after moving in and consolidating what we had, we realized our past reliance on our previous roommates’ kitchenware and furniture. Our place was barren and it remained so for a while; a few months after the last box was unpacked, a visiting friend saw our place for the first time and asked us without a hint of sarcasm, “When do you guys finish moving in?”

One day we finally broke down and decided to ditch the minimalist lifestyle. We finally accepted kitchen and furniture gifts from family and friends. My mom started it off by buying us a dining table. Once she found out that I would accept gifts (albeit reluctantly), she got us a couch and a set of kitchen knives.

Our thinking of what was acceptable to keep slowly shifted with time. When I first moved to San Diego, I was adamant that we had to follow by the “everything has to fit in the backpack” rule. (To be fair, I didn't think we were planning on staying long - we still had a world to explore) It took a while, but that mentality changed to the “everything has to fit in the truck” rule, which then finally took the form of “everything has to fit in the apartment” rule.

Now I’m sitting in the same empty apartment as it was a year ago. The rooms completely cleared, our stuff has been packed into separate boxes, and we’ve had random strangers on craigslist come by every so often to buy our stuff.

I used to wonder why people had such a hard time giving things up. Now I think I understand a little better. It’s not so much that they’re losing their material possessions; it’s more so that they’re losing a souvenir of their memories. The cute dinner table wasn’t so much a finely crafted piece of wood as it was the gift that my mom gave me or the place where I spent cooking countless new recipes.

When I leave this apartment tonight, I won’t take most of the material items with me, but I will take with me the good memories I’ve had here. Since I moved out of my parents place when I was 17, I haven't been to a place that I genuinely felt like it was home. This place was different; Adrienne made it home. And now I feel her slipping away from my life as well.

The disillusionment of self by the self as pointed out by another

Sometimes I like to think of myself as a patient guy. I like to think that I'm open minded and respectful of how others live. I like to think I'm not judgmental. I like to think that no matter how someone else lives, I can coexist peacefully with anyone. That was before I moved in with my girlfriend.

That's one of the many 'perks' about being in a relationship; your significant other will without a doubt bring you back to reality and remind you how close minded, disrespectful, and judgmental you are (especially if you're in an argument). Ok, maybe I'm being a little harsh; she's a lot nicer than it sounds here and to her credit, a lot of times I am all of the above. The main point though, is that being in a relationship has shown me sides of myself, both good and bad, that I never would have guessed were hiding in the deepest recesses of my personality.

One of these traits that I discovered is how much I can't stand certain actions or beliefs being superimposed into my life. I could spend the night typing out an epic list, but I'll keep it short and addressed towards my main concern - Money. Like any typical couple, we have our disagreements about our finances.

My philosophy on finances is simple; don't spend it if you don't have it. Sure I use my credit card during emergencies, but it should ONLY be reserved for emergencies. I've been raised to think that there's a certain disillusioned mentality out there that believe they can use their credit cards without needing to pay the consequences of interest and debt.

I'm on the other end of the spectrum and am exceptionally wary about using credit. To me, credit is this fake magic money that appears out of thin air. As a personal rule, anything that breaks the laws of physics and creates something out of nothing is beyond my limited understanding of this world. I try my best to stay clear of it. Credit will forever be etched in my mind as this evil plastic card that's ready to trade your financial peace of mind for something like the latest laptop, a new car, or a crazy night with lots of hookers and pounds of unadulterated cocaine. (Of course this isn't realistic, I doubt hookers and drug dealers accept major credit cards)

Ok, after reading that last paragraph, some may argue that I might be the disillusioned one. I admit that that statement is very plausible. It's true that I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of credit, but the result is that my credit card debt usually comes out to $0 at the end of every month. I adapt to my environment and I learn to be happy with what I have. Money helps, but it won't certaintly determine whether you're ultimately happy or not.

When I see someone living 'beyond their means', I have a hard time accepting it. Sure if it's a stranger, I couldn't care less how they live... but when it's someone you love, it's extremely difficult to see them digging themselves a deeper financial grave. It's even more difficult when they're so closely entangled with you that you become involved.

I guess if I were more open minded and not so judgmental, I could adapt and coexist with anyone. Well, I learned that I'm not like that; I really can't coexist with just anyone. I am adamant and unwavering about a lot of things, and finances is one of them. I'm glad that I had the opportunity to learn this about myself.

The reality is that there's a line that has to be drawn, and I'm definitely sticking to mine; I believe in living simply and within my means, even if it means picking either the hookers or the cocaine, but not both.

Love Adrienne!!!!

Hey! I love Adrienne. She's so hottttttt =)

Note: This may or may not have been written by Adrienne