Monday, August 30, 2010

Merging dishes.

Moving in with someone means you have to take each household item you own individually, evaluate it, and determine whose is better. More importantly, you determine who has a greater attachment to that item. Since I am fortunate that P.I.C. is a very laid back person, I win most of these evaluations by default. Well, I do have the newer furniture. And I do love my dishes. And my bed is definitely more comfortable. (Sadly, I lost the television debate. :::SOB:::) We have had minimal disagreements about the merging of our items. For that, I am very grateful

We have a friend, a former coworker of mine and a current coworker of P.I.C., who has also just moved in with her boyfriend. I will call her Ding, for reasons that I will explain in another entry on another date. Ding is a rather particular person. She is organized and meticulous about her belongings. This characteristic is visible in her office based on her "piles" of files on the floor. While I never got to go to her last apartment, I imagine that her apartment was spotless and very neatly organized at all times. P.I.C. and I had lunch with her and were discussing all of the aspects of the "moving in together" process. However, her version was quite different from ours.

Ding: "Man, Mr. Ding and I are having a difficult time putting stuff away. He keeps on asking me when we are going to merge our dishes."
P.I.C.: "Wait, what? Merge your dishes? What do you mean?"
Ding: "Well, I put all of my dishes on one side of the cabinet and his on the other. He wants to ... mix them." (She sounded somewhat horrified by this prospect.)
P.I.C.: "You mean to tell me that you have two sets of dishes in your new home?"
Ding: "Yes. I mean, I am not going to use HIS dishes. No way."

Silence ensued until P.I.C. and I realized we were each laughing so hard that it was silent. Yep. She really is that particular. The visual of a cupboard with two perfectly organized sets of dishware sent me over the edge. Of course, we then immediately began poking fun at her, envisioning them cooking on separate dishes and making separate meals at the same time.

(On that note, if anyone took MY neurotic tendencies and made them into a blog, I'd probably cut him. Just an FYI.)

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