I wonder when I'm going to learn my lesson when it comes to posting entries in diaryland. I had a good amount written when one keystroke later--poof!--it was gone. So let me start over again, shall I?

Yes. I redesigned my journal page a tad. I wanted links and everything to be a bit more accessible and easy to see. The page feels a little cluttered, but it'll do. It's also a bit dark, but it was before and I never got any complaints, so I'll leave it as is. I hope it relaxes the eyes.

As you all know, I got my own apartment in October. It's the first time I've ever lived by myself and it's a point in my life that will always be worth remarking on. "And then, when I was 25, I got my own apartment!" For the entire first month, I came home from work and did what ever my heart desired; I wasn't even sure what those desires were and that was the beauty of it all. I was discovering me, something I thought I had done over and over again in my journals. But I was wrong. I didn't know how I felt in a space shared by nobody. I found myself sometimes just lying on the floor, my arms outstretched, looking at the ceiling and feel pretty danged good about things. For that whole month, I woke up on weekends at 9 or 10 or even 11 and I'd stretch. Sometimes, I'd grab a book while in bed and read. I'd go out to my futon and slump in the creases and read or watch a movie or just laze around, seeing the sun on the walls of my apartment. I looked at my plants, my lamps, my clutter of pens and pencils and wonder if I should move things around. It was my space. Is my space.

I miss it. Since I met Jeff in early November, I've never slept at home on a Saturday night. Most Fridays, we'll sleep at my apartment. But every other day is a mystery. I've given in, or rather, didn't argue about most nights, though I felt I made it clear it upset me to hardly sleep at my apartment. In the last two weeks, we've spend about 10 of those days at his apartment. He had hurt his neck at work and found his own cushy recliners more comfortable. That's understandable. I have only my futon and even with a massive pile of pillows, it's still just not right. Early on in the week, Jeff promised me we'd stay at my place for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday night. At the last minute, Jeff decided we'd stay at his place for Wednesday because he was picking up a coworker the following morning. The coworker lives 40 minutes from me and half that from Jeff. I agreed, but made it clear I didn't like it. Thursday and Friday went as planned and we stayed at my house. Today, Jeff said he wants to stay at his tonight.

I don't want to.

I normally tell him how unhappy it makes me, then I pack up my stuff, deciding that it doesn't matter. I'd rather spend time with him than be pissed off forever, so I go. But today I'm feeling different. I don't want to give in. I want to sleep here. I want to be in my own space, the space I pay for month after month. I want to be around to watch my plants change. I want to do my laundry. I want to stumble out to the futon and plomp on it after Jeff has gone to work and flick on the TV or pick up my book and just do whatever I'm inspired to do. Jeff asked me why I was being headstrong about it. I told him I'm being headstrong because it's important to me and I've said it a number of times, yet he doesn't seem to want to take me seriously. He has to work tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. I can sleep in. Why do I want to sleep in at his apartment when he leaves earlier than I'll be up and his roommate will be home and in the living room once I get there? How can I stumble out in my underwear and lay on a recliner and watch TV or read a book when I have another person I have to consider? It's not my home! I wear a tank top sometimes before his roommate gets home and sometimes you can see the shape of my breasts. Jeff will ask me if I'm going to be wearing that when his roommate gets home and obviously, I won't, but it makes me feel that much more put out.

I guess my place is boring for him. He comes over and we watch movies or he plays euchre on the computer. His friends would never come over cause I live far away and though I'm only 7 minutes from Jeff's house, it's 7 minutes in the wrong direction. I live in a section of the city I never even knew about until I found this apartment.

I'm not sure what I can do to make my home more comfortable for him. He wants to eat his own dinner and I can understand that he has his food at home. He's a meat-eater and I'm not, so it isn't like he can come on over any old time and be guaranteed something to eat. Now mind you, I find it awfully closed minded that he's not open to trying foods that don't contain carcass, but he doesn't see how similar it is for me when I go over to his house. Meat eaters eat vegetables, sure. But they don't eat a vegetarian's vegetables, if you know what I mean. He has cheez-its and iceberg lettuce. He has sugar cereals and a shit load of white bread. I've been chipped out! I'm not getting any nutrients. I can't cart over my tofu cause then I'm also bringing over all my spices to keep it good. His kitchen is tiny and cramped. He has no shelf space. I'm not going to bring over my pans that are large enough to make my soup or my rice pilaf or my tempeh sandwiches. And I can't justify grocery shopping for two places when I can't guarantee the veggies won't go bad.

I want to sleep with him every night, but I don't want to give in. Even all these reasons aren't, to me, worth fighting over. But I want this. I am being headstrong about it; stubborn and perhaps a tad overzealous in my endeavor. It's unnecessary. And at the same it, it's very necessary. I can hear him feel badly that he wants to be at his apartment as much as I want to be at mine. I can hear him hate that I get upset and he's the cause. He doesn't like it and neither do I. I can understand that he has reasons; just as many as I do, for wanting to stay at his own home. He even has a cat that he has to take care of. I don't.

When we're both right, how do we work this out?

Anywho, I hope you all like my page and if you have suggestions, let me know. I did it on the fly and at the last minute. Have a good weekend, all.