Penny's Story
Just a cute little drummer living her dream.The Spoils of Shoveling
So, yesterday I detailed my fun day with the Darling Boyfriend shoveling, but I should add a couple things.
First, his neighbor is a real ass. The dude has a snow-blower and was complaining about a little snow that fell in his driveway’s direction while we were shoveling. I’ve lived here forever, I understand snow shoveling etiquette, we didn’t do anything wrong. Plus, he has a snow-blower! It’s not like he had to do any extra shoveling anyway. Seems to me if he was nice guy he would have helped us instead of being rude. The guy was just a wicked jerk. It actually made me really uncomfortable. The Darling Boyfriend exchanged some choice words with the neighbor. He actually stayed pretty calm; I have a feeling he wanted to be more aggressive than he was. I dunno, I always thought the snow made people more neighborly, not less.
Anyway…
So, after helping him shovel, the Darling Boyfriend took me out for an awesome dinner. We sat down and he asked the waitress for something “hot and boozy.” 
We had hot chocolate with Bailey’s, and steak, and a big cookie for dessert. It was really nice.
And then this morning, after I woke up with just about every muscle being really grumpy, the Darling Boyfriend gave me a deep-tissue massage for about 45 minutes.
So, I’d say I was more than adequately compensated for seven hours of shoveling.
Net Snow Gain
[Just a note, I'm a New Englander, and I'm Swedish. I'm pretty sanguine about shoveling snow. I joke that it's my winter fitness program, and I generally have a good time doing it. So, this might sound whiney, but it's tongue-in-cheek.]
So, three years ago, when my ex moved out, and I ended up in the psych ward for Christmas, I don’t really remember shoveling snow at all that season. I know I did, but that year is sort of a blur.
Two years ago, as I was shoveling snow, I kept jokingly saying to myself that I needed a boyfriend to help me shovel.
Last year, I had a boyfriend, he just lived in New Jersey. No shoveling help there. I found that fairly ironic.
Anyway, now I have the Darling Boyfriend, who lives about a half-mile from me, and stays over all the time. I thought I had the shoveling thing licked. Help at last!
Ha!
So, we woke up this morning to a foot of new snow. Joy. To quote a friend: “It’s a snow, it’s a snow, it’s a snow day.”
We shoveled out my driveway and unburied our cars. I mean, c’mon, what better expression of love is there than this:
But then, I realized that he had to shovel out the driveway at his place. So I asked if he wanted me to come with and help, and he said that he wouldn’t say no. So we drove over to his place and started shoveling. I think we’ve agreed that we did more shoveling at his place than we did at mine, so this year having a boyfriend means ~even more~ shoveling. How’d that happen? Somehow I’ve had a net increase in the amount of snow I have to deal with. Life is super funny.
And in closing, here’s another view of what love means:
Struggles Shared are Struggles Halved
So, there’s still stuff going on (the whole living together thing does seem tabled temporarily), but wow, everything is mucho better. I guess the last few days count as our first fight. And it’s amazing how going through something difficult with someone can actually bring people closer. I don’t want to say too much about either the fight or the make-up, because they’re fairly private. I did want to post this, though, just as an update of sorts for people following the “story.”
Also, this is something I had been sort of dreading (i.e. the “first fight). I had no idea how it would look and how we would handle it. Well, it sucked for a couple days (fights suck, right?), but we made up brilliantly, with great care and understanding. And now I feel even more secure, because I’ve seen how we react to difficulty, and I’ve seen that we do it pretty damned awesome.
And it reminds me of something I often say, which is that when you share problems, they get spread out. Sort of like if you had to move a table; if you had help moving the table, it would seem that much lighter; in fact, with help you might even be able to move something that you wouldn’t have been able to without help. Problems shared are problems halved. We can do a lot of things by ourselves, but sometimes when we join forces with someone else, we can accomplish things far greater than we ever could alone.
We are stronger than we were three days ago, and I am stronger with him than I am by myself. And that’s terrifying and amazing all in the same breath.
La, la, la, I’m in love. La, la, la, I am loved.
Ignorance was Bliss
So, something of a revelation this morning.
I miss the naiveté that love is enough. When I was younger I believed all that hype about love conquering all. Life has disabused me of that notion. I miss believing that love was all you needed.
Have you noticed?
About two weeks ago, at 2:30 AM, when I was so tired I was almost passing out, the Darling Boyfriend says, oh so nonchalantly, “So, Penny, have you noticed that I’ve been living here?”
And it was one of those “excuse me, my head just exploded” kind of moments. So I went to bed.
A couple days later I asked the Darling Boyfriend if we could put that discussion off until after the holidays. I especially would like to meet his family before we make the living together thing “official.” Not sure why, but that feels important.
Then the other day he had that slip of the tongue.
Then yesterday morning, while I was on my way out the door to go teach, he brought up the fact that he doesn’t have anywhere to put his clean clothes at my house. And we talked for a few minutes about solutions to that problem, but my head sort of melted again, and I felt all sorts of overwhelmed and had to go, so I ran again.
And then I bashed my head getting in the car and the tears just flooded out of me.
I tried to talk about it a little with him last night, but I wasn’t feeling well and I still feel overwhelmed with all the questions and emotions I’m feeling.
I.am.so.scared.
I know that I want to get married again someday. Heck, I’ve always wanted to get married and be a mommy. But even more than wanting to get married someday is the absolute surety of never wanting to get divorced again. I know that no matter what I do if I get married again there will be the chance of getting divorced again. So, the logical, or really, terrified, part of my brain says, “The best way to not get divorced is to not get married in the first place.”
*sigh*
And all we’re doing is talking about living together. And I feel paralyzed.
It just opens so many questions that I want answered, most of which are the type that can only be answered by living through them.
Living together. Rent. Bills. Sharing space. Food. Chores. Future. Kids.
I’m having trouble separating out the questions I need to answer right now from the ones that can wait. It’s making me feel crazy and overwhelmed. I’ve gotten better at dealing with feeling like this, but I’m still not perfect at it.
Anyway, to answer his first question from a couple weeks ago, yea, I guess I had noticed. He’s pretty much living here. We’re pretty much living together. And that’s pretty cool.
Still scared to death of actually having the discussion about it, though…
Meeting MTPC
Last night the Darling Boyfriend and I went to the Massachusetts Transgender Political Coalition’s holiday open house. It’s probably not exactly accurate to say that he was “meeting” MTPC, as he had met several of the folks already, but I had a theme going for our holiday parties, so I figured I’d keep it going.
I love being in social settings with my boyfriend. We’re just so good together. We’re good when we’re part of the same conversation, but we’re also fine drifting and mingling on our own. And it’s definitely fun showing him off to everyone.
It was a really nice event, with lots of friendly folks. We stayed a couple hours, and had a lot of fun. I chatted with some folks that I had known before but never really chatted with, hung with a couple awesome friends, and met a few new people. It was just a really good time, and a nice way to cap off three days of holiday parties.
Next week it’ll be my turn to play the meeting game, as we’re going to Maryland to spend Christmas and New Year’s with his family. Wow. I’m really excited.
Merry, Merry, and all that…
Slips of the tongue…
The Darling Boyfriend and I were in bed just now and we were talking about my mom, and he made a reference to being her “son-in-law.”
…
!!!
And we both sort of stopped short. And he said, “Dear me, did I just say that?” And I said that he did, and that I was going to just let it slide.
But, ~*WHOA*~!
Not that I’m ready to walk down the aisle, or start designing the nursery just yet, but it’s sort of neat that we’re starting to think of each other as part of the deepest parts of each others lives.
“Headed in the right direction” seems an apt phrase for what I’m trying to say.
This just gets better and better.
Yay.
Meeting the Music Store
Last night was the Holiday Party for the store where I teach drum set lessons. And yes, I brought the Darling Boyfriend. It is wicked fun showing him off to my friends and family and co-workers. I just have so much fun being with him in social settings. It’s fun experiencing the world with him.
It was a nice little social hour with food and drink. We chatted with some of the other folks from the store (there were maybe twenty-five folks there). It was just a nice time.
One notable thing was that I saw the wife of the former owner of the drum shop. I hadn’t seen her in a couple years, but I’ve known her since I was twelve, when the drum shop first opened. I always joke that she’s my “drum mom.” It was awesome to see her. We talked about how we’re doing, and she was so happy for how well my transition has turned out.
We ended the evening with a toast of limoncello, which at first I thought tasted too sweet, but actually was yummy, but really strong. I joke that I like girlie-drinks, and it’s true. I don’t mind stuff that’ll get me snookered, but the limoncello was strong enough that it sort of burned on the way down, and that was a bit much.
My life rules.
Good.Night.
The Not-Doughnut Tournament
Yesterday I competed in my first Munchkin tournament at Pandemonium Books. I’m still amazed that I’m actually playing a game and having such a good time. It’s just fun and silly enough, with enough ways to be creative that its been keeping my interest more than most games can. Most games feel like the same thing over and over again to me, and so it’s hard for me to go back to them over and over. Munchkin is so varied that it feels different enough almost every time.
So, anyway, there’s a weekly “friendly” game (Munchkin is pretty cut-throat even during a game with no stakes; the analogy I like is imagine if Uno met Dungeons and Dragons), and every couple months there’s a tournament. When the Darling Boyfriend and I first started talking, he mentioned that he had competed in a Munchkin tournament. I asked him what Munchkin was, and the rest is history. He taught me how to play.
And how he taught me to play is sort of quite a story. There’s a trap/curse in the game that changes a player’s sex (your character starts out as whatever sex you are – and it matters because certain monsters and other actions have different effects for males and females). When Darling Boyfriend and I were playing our very first game (on the day after our first night together, actually, if you get my drift…), he offered to trade me the “Sprayed-On Costume,” which is an armor usable only by females, for some item I had that he could use. Then, when I was in my next combat, he played a sex-change curse on me so I couldn’t use the Sprayed-On Costume anymore. It was a really good and mean and “Munchkinly” play. And it was a great introduction to the way the game goes. [And, more importantly, it also let me know that the Darling Boyfriend was pretty damn okay with my history, as he was able to joke with me about sex-changing.]
So, I’ve been playing for the last five months. We play a lot just the two of us [which, it's a different game for two than it is for more than two, but it's still fun], and we usually go to the open game on Saturday evenings. He’s competed in a few tournaments since we started seeing each other, but yesterday was my first one.
And I came in second. There were two rounds. I came in second at our table in the first round and then came in second at the final as well. And I won $14 (the entry fee is $5)!
So, yay me.
Meeting the Family [part 1]
So, tonight my extended family had our annual Christmas get-together with the always cute and funny Yankee Swap. It’s always great seeing my family. They all live so close but I never see them enough – which is probably my own fault. It’s a funny experience having known people for your whole life, but only having had them ~really~ know the real you for about three years. In some ways it feels like starting my relationship with my family from scratch three years ago, but in other ways it makes me feel bound to my family in a way few people could understand, as they have loved me through it all, and now we all get to go forward and be a family with me actually being me.
That is pretty frickin’ awesome right there.
Just sayin’.
And tonight was even more special because I brought the Darling Boyfriend to meet the family. He’s the first significant other I’ve brought to meet my family since my ex first met my family over a decade ago. It’s also the first time that the significant other who’s met the family has been a man. It was a lot of new stuff. And it was great. We had a great time, and he seemed to like my family, and they liked him. It was just lots of fun.
And I made vort limpa to go with the smörgåsbord. I’d never made it before, so it was a little bit bold on my part, but unless everyone was fibbing, it was quite a success. I think I’m getting known for my bread. Funny.
So, quite a day. The Darling Boyfriend has met the family, and all went well.
I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but in this moment I am feeling the calmest, most peaceful kind of wondrous joy. I am so happy. And I love my boyfriend very much.
