There's a BOY in my house!

This is the weekend that Roommate moved in.

This is the weekend that I went to a wedding and Roommate moved in.

This is the weekend that I got in a fight with TheBoy and I went to a wedding and Roommate moved in.

There's boy stuff on my sink—like Hugo Boss cologne on the counter, and an electric shaver, and Nivea for men facial wash and other special just-for-men stuff. There's boy stuff in my shower—he brought his own shower caddy, and there's Old Spice High Endurance body wash in my shower. And a pouf. (I don't even use a pouf.)

There's a gigantic TV in my living room—like, it blocks out the sun—and two huge bookshelves of books and movies. There's a big white leather sofa. That reclines. There's a portable bar in my kitchen. This boy has way nicer stuff than I do. That's fine, now I can just use his. :)

Last night was the first night he spent in the house and I couldn't sleep—way too keyed up. There's a boy in my house, there's a BOY in my HOUSE, THERE'S A BOY IN MY HOUSE! This morning I was up at the crack of dawn and had 55 minutes to get ready instead of the normal 30. I brewed my own coffee before I left and everything. And I haven't wanted to sleep once. If I'll remain this keyed up for awhile because of the new energy in my space, I should be paying HIM for living here. (Shhhhh. Don’t tell him, okay?) UPDATE: The minute I typed that, I of course began falling asleep in my chair. Hmmm.

And in my many musings today, I've come up with this: do we naturally bond platonically with members of the opposite sex who remind us of our significant others? For example it's a well known fact around the office that I remind Mentor of Mrs. Mentor—I've never met her, but apparently we're sisters lost at birth, according to Mentor. It's not surprising, of course; Mentor and I bonded in my first day here, and he loves his wife, so it's not surprising that two women he likes resemble each other in personality. And Roommate reminds me very strongly of TheBoy—they don't look at all alike, but they relate to me in similar ways. Roommate is much more mouthy and a smartass. TheBoy is more of a quiet source of humor, suddenly breaking out with hysterically goofy shit. But I went grocery shopping with TheBoy (he just called me out of the blue and offered a ride, since he was going shopping and he knew I didn't have a car, so did I want to come with him? DID I?) and he bought all kinds of meat, a two-gallon jug of very cheap milk, frozen breakfast sandwiches, and a 12-pack of PBR.

I bought: three organic oranges, two organic kiwis, two kinds of baked organic tofu, organic celery hearts, 100% cranberry juice, organic baby carrots, a Naked Juice (Green Machine), two bags of soy-rice crisps, one bag of corn-vegetable flour pasta, a 24 pack of string cheese, a very small block of extra-sharp cheddar cheese, ground corn flour for polenta, and a few other things I can’t quite recall. The boy had one more bag than I did PLUS a two gallon of milk PLUS a 12 pack of PBR, and he pointed out that his bill was still 4 dollars less than mine. He likes to point out that I’m a health nut.

Funny how this didn't stop him from compulsively eating most of a bag of my soy-rice crisps, though.

I told this story to Roommate, who laughed, and then came and looked in the fridge. He closes the fridge. He opens the fridge again. He closes the fridge. He looks at me. Silently, he picks up the receipt from the grocery store.

"I really thought you were exaggerating when you said you were a health nut. Apparently not. I don’t even know what half of this shit is."

He reminds of me of TheBoy the first time I bought kefir in his presence. At least we won't have any trouble separating our food.