Seriously, the Patriots garbage can is ugly. Trust me. August 16, 2007

M and I practically live together. In fact, he refers to his apartment as “that expensive closet out in Queens” and usually spends only one or two nights a month there.  
 
So, officially moving in together come September really shouldn’t be a big deal. Except, it kind of is - but not for the reasons you might expect. 
 
Emotionally, I know we can handle it. It won’t be that big of a departure for us. The physical act of moving in together (as in two people, two sets of furniture, one apartment), however, is proving to be a bit more daunting.  
 
M is, as you may have deduced by now, a boy. Please note I left the word metrosexual – or whatever the kids are calling it these days – out of that description. He’s a boy who has collected boy-ish furniture (mostly through a series of “hey, I’m getting rid of this, you want it M?” or “hmm, that book shelf by the side of the road looks like it’s in good shape”) and now he wants to move that rag tag collection of mismatched-ness into our sparkly new apartment. 
 
To which I say: here are the directions to Goodwill, honey. Give them everything. Including those issues of Sports Illustrated that date back to before I was born.  
 
I didn’t think it would be this hard to mesh our stuff, but this is New York. It’s not like we can just throw his oversized Patriots garbage can in the basement of our spacious suburban home and forget about it. If he wants to keep that Patriots garbage can (which he does, he says it would be sacrilege to throw out or donate), there’s no place to hide it. (Except for under the sink, which is probably where it will end up unless I can convince the movers to accidentally lose it on the way from Queens to Manhattan.)  
 
Another disagreement we’ve been having lately: which bed to keep? There is only one bedroom (again, New York) and there’s no place to store an extra queen-sized mattress and no, M, we are not going to just “leave it in the living room” as a “place for people to, you know, hang out.” I want to keep my bed as it is newer and does not gap in the middle. He wants to keep his cough ten year old cough bed because, well, it’s his and he likes it.  
 
We did buy a bunch of furniture at Ikea, mostly at my urging, so that we could have matching bedside tables and sit at the dining table on chairs that are not of the folding variety. 
 
However, the rest of it is proving to be a disagreement at every turn. Granted, it’s mostly playful, but there are serious undertones. We both like what we have and we both do not understand why the other is being so stubborn.  
 
Don’t even get me started on DirecTV versus my beloved Time Warner Cable. Though, he may win that argument as the alternative to getting DirecTV (which comes with the NFL package so he can watch those beloved Patriots while flicking wings into the Patriots garbage can) is going next door to Hooters to catch the games. Rock, hard place. Goodbye Style Network, it’s been real.  
 
So, I ask all of you who are living with significant others or have lived with significant other or anyone who has an opinion on the matter, really: was it this hard? Are M and I being unreasonable? Should I just submit to the fact that half of my furniture will look like cast-offs from a fraternity house? And who the hell wants to keep an aged, sagging bed over an almost brand new, very expensive one?! WHO?!

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