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MY SIDE: I've kinda temporarily sorta moved into B's apartment. Partly because I'm helping out a friend who will be staying in my lovely apartment for the month of October, and partly as an experiment to see if we can actually live together. But mostly because I absolutely love being with B, and I'm there all the time anyway.

Oh, and there's laundry services in his building.

So, yesterday, we packed up my 'necessary' items (B: "How many pairs of shoes do you have, anyway?') and brought them over to his house. And when we got home, we went right back out again to the dog run, then to enjoy the last bit of summer outside. Despite a few interludes of looking at each other and mock panicking about 'really' living togther (sample: 'This is great. Togetherness is great! We're together now. All. The. Time.') it was a perfectly normal night.

The only weird thing was getting up this morning and seeing all of my things in the closets and the medicine cabinet and the kitchen.

HIS SIDE: The email he sent to friends this morning.

"ridiculouschick (ed. note - he doesn't call me ridiculouschick)has moved in for October. Well, she's moved in for two daze, then she's off to Ireland for a week, and then back here for the rest of October. So far we're doing good...well, there was this "thing" that occurred last night. She woke me up sometime around 3 AM....

"What did you put on my waist?"
"Huh?" I asked, groggy, yet curious where she was going with this. I assumed that she was playin' some game.
"I said, 'What did you put on my waist?'" She answered, tinged with anger.
"I didn't, I didn't, umm, put anything on your waist."
She then turned over and went back to sleep.
I went back to sleep too... after I put a knife under my pillow.

She didn't remember it when we woke up.

This could get interesting.

Rock On,

B (ed. note: he doesn't call himself B)"