I was out for drinks last week with Lee and his fiance, Hot Curry.
(Perhaps I should sometimes flip ownership and the relationship and say I was out with Hot Curry and her fiance, Lee. Because, to be honest, Lee invited me out, but I was hemming and hawing about going until he texted me that Hot Curry was coming. She confided in me that she'd only come along because she'd known I would be there. This is not because I do not want to hang out with Lee. It's because Lee had chosen my least favorite bar in the city, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him so. I'd rather flake out at the last minute and write it about it publicly later, where he will most assuredly read it. And send me vexing emails. But, it's true, I'll stand by it: I hate that bar. You know which bar. That bar. It's dark and smells like cough drops. But Hot Curry was gonna be there, so I decided to go. Sorry, Lee. Had you picked; oh, you know, this bar or this bar, I'd be there in a second! But that bar? Ugh.)
I was out for drinks with Hot Curry and her fiancee, Lee, and we were discussing the coming months in which they will, for the first time, combine lives and cohabitate. It's a big move for any relationship, even one for which you've already promised yourself for all eternity.
"There are things that you do when you have your own space that no one else needs to witness!" we all agreed. (Yes, Hot Curry and I are both Sex and the City fans.)
Well, for instance, SOME PEOPLE like to eat scrambled eggs for dinner, followed by some wine sipped in bed while watching episode after episode of My So-Called Life.
And SOME PEOPLE like to take a slice of pepperoni, place it on a cracker, schmear some marinara on it, sprinkle a little cheese, and call a stack of those and a beer "dinner". SOME PEOPLE.
And CERTAINLY NONE OF US drinks alone. NOT A SINGLE ONE. That's like, indicative of a problem or something. Drinking alone? Ha! No one ever does that!
(I am sipping a divine Louis Latour Pinot Noir.)
These are the things that you do that make your life cozy. Habits started in college, maybe, that have grown into rituals, soothing out the rough edges of transition into adulthood. Maybe it's watching reruns of Full House while eating graham crackers and wearing those yoga toes things. Perhaps it's drinking hot toddies and looking up apartments in foreign countries on Craigslist. (Seriously, do it.) Or it's as simple as wanting to wear that one T-shirt that is absolutely horrific, stretched out, completely NOTfashion, with a pair of pants you know, for a fact, went out of style in 1996. What you do in your own time in your own space is sacred. Maybe only to you, but scared nonetheless.
AND YES, I SOMETIMES EAT SCRAMBLED EGGS FOR DINNER. While painting my toenails at my desk in my room and watching The Office on nbc.com. Wednesday night ritual. Comes right before I write a few rounds of trivia, call Princess and/or New Kid and/or Snickers, and cap off the night with a glass of something delicious and some My So-Called Life or a Marian Keyes. (God, how I love Marian Keyes.)
We all have our things.