Thursday, May 31, 2012

Cohabitating Conundrum

Mr. Wonderful and I are going to look at a house together. I think I might be having a mini heart attack. It's not that I don't want to live with this guy...someday. I do. It's just very difficult for me to really know when that day is. I met my ex-husband at 19. We bought our first house at 23. We got married at 24 and were together for nearly 18 years. I was 39 years old when I finally had some independence, freedom and alone time. And quite honestly, I've been thoroughly enjoying my last ten years of independence, freedom and alone time. Don't be mistaken, I love my boyfriend and I totally enjoy his company. He never grates on my nerves, we always have a blast and I'm certain we're in it for the long haul. So why am I hesitant about living together?

Sure there is this small issue of our decorating tastes that has been the brunt of many jokes. I am, shall we say, eclectic, vintage and worldly treasures in my decorating style. My beau is more contemporary, minimalistic and, well, masculine with regard to his decor. Since he is a dude, I guess that is a good thing. How do two people who have developed their personal styles for over forty years meld them together? When two people meet in their twenties, they generally both have crap they acquired from garage sales and grandma's basement. Milk crates and plywood make up shelves and blankets cover up the nasty sofa stains. Getting together means chucking all that and starting anew developing their tastes and style together. I've already been there and done that. I now have my own funky style that, quite frankly, I like! My boyfriend is the most easy-going fella there is, but I can tell he wouldn't pause for one second at tossing some of my nostalgic family heirlooms (yes, that is what I'm calling them) to the curb.

Once while browsing through an antique store, I spotted an amazing piece of furniture I could envision in a kitchen or pantry displaying some cool pottery from Portugal or Italy. At my excitement, Mr. W. just turned and walked away. I swear I detected a snicker. "What's wrong?" I demanded. "Are you laughing because there is no way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks you can picture this in your house?" No reply.

Upon further discussion, I believe we've determined I own about two or three pieces that meet his approval.

Besides the decorating issue, which I'm pretty sure we could negotiate our way through, there is that alone time thing. I revel in coming home to my empty apartment, no noise, no questions, no demands. It is my oasis. I stay up late reading, writing, and puttering. I am the quintessential night owl. He is not.

Last weekend, we took a trip to Portland where I introduced him to some longtime friends of mine. Later one of them wrote "It sounds like he is as independent as you are--so that works."  She is right, we are both very independent, enjoy each other immensely, but also have our own interests and need for alone time.

Surely my concerns will get ironed out. Surely I won't lose "Independent George" in the process (and neither will he).  And surely when we are finally ready to take the plunge and we find the perfect home, I'll be 100% ready. Surely.



Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Second (or Third or Fourth) Acts

The question in the tag line asks "What is the next?" for this 40-something year old woman? After much deliberation, several years of trying on other jobs (pet sitting, art museum, attorney's office, bridal gown sales to name a few), exploring and teaching abroad, an involved application process,coercing friends and professional contacts to write letters of reference spouting words of praise, and finally, a grueling 4 1/2 hour interview, it appears the "next" in this scenario includes heading back to school. Even as I seem to be closing in on the end of my 40's, I feel excited and energized by my pursuit of a Masters in Teaching and prospective career change. It's what I've wanted to do since my first round of college courses, but others, society, my devil's advocate persona have always talked me out of it. Well, no more. I have to work for the next 20 years (at least), so I need to do something I think I'll enjoy. And frankly, the additional time off is enticing as well.

I know at least one travel friend who frowns on the limitations of the teacher travel schedule. I once asked her opinion about traveling to Argentina during Christmas time with a teacher on her break. It was expensive to fly, accommodations were going to be costly, as was everything else that time of year. Her advice? "Ditch the teacher."  Rather than ditch the teacher, I'm joining the teacher. True my vacation plans would be worked around school schedules, which equates to busier tourist seasons, higher prices and the risk of traveling with kids most of the time. I am pretty sure these are adversities I can negotiate around. An experienced explorer can find the deals sans the families. It's not as if  I plan to visit Six Flags or set sail on a Disney Cruise.

My recently engaged ex-sister-in-law told me at first she felt a little silly being "engaged" at her age. She quickly got over that and is enjoying the moment (I'm very excited for her by the way!). I, too, feel a little bit silly going back to school, to be a teacher of all things, so late in life. But hey, you know what I say? It's never too late to follow your heart, even if my heart will be the ripe old age of fifty by the time I start my new career.