Home Sweet Home

So you know that dream you had as a kid? The one where the grown-ups left you alone and you got to hang out with your best friend, eat what you want, and run around and play? Yeah - my life is kind of like that. Only, you know, with a job and bills and more vegetables than I imagined I would ever eat willingly.

So after almost 5 years together, my boyfriend and I decided to take the plunge (not The Plunge, you crazy people. But a plunge; a safer, nicer, less-likely-to-kill-you-if-you-fall-the-wrong-way kind of plunge) and move in together. We wanted to make the move, combine residences, bills, and pets and get our own place. How exciting! How wonderful! How - wait, did I say get our own place?

Rewind. You see, due to an odd combination of circumstances, I was living in my parents' house (though without my parents) when we decided to move in together. And I couldn't really leave their house while they're off traipsing the globe, so I had a decision to make: just how awkward would it be to take over the master bedroom?

Not that awkward, as it turns out.

So this blog will be the story of our adventures in Living In Sin Land. Not only do we have the usual fun topics to cover (there was The Great Bed Debate, Adventures in Opening a Joint Account, and other assorted discussions), he gets to have a crash course in Living With the In-Laws (just the summer session, though - no yearlong courses for us!) while I struggle with how to be a girlfriend and a daughter at the same time. So, you know, it'll be all sunshine and daisies over here!

I should probably give you your cast of characters, though, right? Just for reference, of course.

To start with, you've got me, your noble narrator. Blogger. Blogarrator? I'm Sarah, and I'm a travel junkie, jewelry enthusiast, and a not-so-crazy cat lady. I can be a bit of a fuddy duddy (yeah, I crochet - what of it?), but oh well. I'm rapidly approaching my mid-twenties, but still in denial. Really, I'm a little kid with a driver's license and the ability to buy wine.

There's my boyfriend, M. He's a Virginia boy (born and bred) who followed me down to NC and is (I think) absolutely hilarious. He's an Ultimate devotee, quiet(er than I am), and responsible. He is the peanut butter to my Nutella, the ice to my cream, the Rioja to my sangria - nothing's quite as delicious without him around. And yes, I admit it - I'm a cradle robber. M is a whopping two weeks younger than I am. What can you do?

We've got three pets - Lola, a 7 year old cat with MAYJAH attitude

Ezra, a 2 year old cat who comes when he's called

And Bodhi, a 1 year old dog who runs away from people and tries to purr.


So if you skipped that whole post to get to the good stuff, here it is:


Ummm, yeah. I got nothin'. Keep reading, though. I'm sure I'll think of something.