End of an era, start of the new.

I've finally made the jump to blogspot. LiveJournal had simply too many Russians and their pr0n was becoming overwhelming. I get mine exclusively from Cat in a Box, thanks very much. Cossacks need not apply.

Anyway. Yes, I'm well aware that it's nigh on 4 in the morning in the East, and yes, I'm fully awake and cognizant of what I'm doing. Falling asleep on the couch--only because of a distinct lack of a bed right now--and that, before 10 pm, is the obvious explanation for this apparent insomnia. It's also not for lack of happiness. I have many a thing running through my head these days. Just yesterday, in fact, as I cruised past Walden Pond on 126, the sun caught the water and I couldn't help but smile as a sense of placidity washed over me. I felt grounded, relieved, and satisfied, among other adjectives. This second time around in New England is it for me.

Part of my satisfaction lies in my discovery of what might be the perfect apartment, save for the slightly aged marigold electric stove. Still, I can deal, because I harbor a secret fear of exploding gas stoves. Not that I've ever experienced that, but the scene from Fight Club in which Ed Norton destroys his IKEA-filled luxury digs seems to have resonated with me over the years to an extreme. Alas, I'll have to deal with the slow, retarded method of cooking, but even so, it's what I grew up with, so no worries, really. The place I'm liking so much is in Watch City--Waltham--a scant mile or so from the Aspen office over by Brandeis, and merely 3 from the abode of the most wonderful man I know, over yonder in Watertown.

After reconnecting with my closest peeps here in Beantown, I received a cascade of "I told you so" in varying forms regarding my last relationship, some veiled no more thinly than "I never liked that guy, anyway." I won't go out on a limb and say that the relationship I had in Philly was a mistake, because it turns out that in my twisted little mind, I NEEDED that relationship to force me to take stock of things and realize that it wasn't the right place for me, nor was he the right person. I found myself being the breaker-upperer (heh) rather than the break-up-ee, for once. I'm usually the one who's far more attached and invested in a relationship, and therefore the one who takes the dissolution much harder than the one whose idea said dissolution was. I was being honest, though, when I told Chris that I didn't see a future for us. My saving grace came when he turned Jekyll-Hyde on me and showed his true colors. I hold nothing against him but for his constant whining about being under-educated and held back by his family. If you don't like the situation, hell, try LEAVING PHILADELPHIA.

Now, about the aforementioned new guy, I can't gush enough. Bill and I have much in common on all sides of the equation, ranging from aspirations to our inherent fears. We've been through the emotional wringer and back again for various reasons. Although we're still very much in the beginning stages of our relationship, I can't deny the level of comfort I feel with him. Deep down I long for corniness and those little, subtle displays of affection that most people simply take for granted. When Bill reaches for my hand in the grocery store or makes faces until I acknowledge him with a kiss or other response, I get such a rush... the rush that was missing from my last two relationships. Dealing with a cheater is never fun, but dealing with someone who has no idea what he wants isn't much better (and never mind the whole doesn't-get-the-difference-between-discussion-and-argument bit I found in so many of my old emails about him). I don't see Bill having the potential to succumb to either fault at this point. We have many activities planned for fall, and finally, I have someone who wants to do things with me. I'm anxious with delight.

Well. So hopefully the apartment will work out in the coming week, and then after that I'll be back to work in Waltham. Last I heard from HR, my documentation on their end was "93% complete." Wondering what that last 7% is... In the meantime, I'll go back to re-learning all my shortcuts and haunts. Ah, Boston. How I missed you so.