reupholstering...

hmmm, slightly recovered. You'll see by this post time that it is too late to be awake cursing sangria, and too early to be writing - but along with trying to count how many red-wine soaked bits of fruit were involved in last night, this was rolling around as well...

The first post of this joint venture was intended to be about furniture. Well, more accurately about sharing furniture as a metaphor which I'm now realizing is so riddled with options for imagery and application to my current state of affairs as to become actually ridiculous. Effing comical. Nearly therapy-worthy.

Landry and I were lounging on Js couch Saturday (Hey, I need my keys to your apartment back since G probably didn't even use them what with his couch escapades of the evening. Lord.), between I don't remember what happened in the morning and vague plans that evening - Landry had just made margaritas which I was avoiding - and we were discussing a charming and clever friend of hers with possible overlap in my life down the road and my hesitation at the fact that it sounded like drama. Lots and lots of drama (given recent events I now hate drama). She was trying to explain otherwise. That it was a fine and obvious idea (possibly), that she is more self aware than most (quite true), and that in spite of a bit of time YEARS ago it made perfect sense (hmmmm)...

...and so Landry - on one of two couches with differing personalities at Js apartment in Brooklyn - levels her gaze, settles her glass, and delivers the following with snarky wisdom...

"if i had a piece of furniture that I didn't want anymore and you wanted it, i would definitely give it to you."

Slight roaring ensued, along with dreams of shared blogs (this), furniture (hmmm) and a desire to stay on the couch and not go out (we went out amid the rainy damp lesbians).

...and so now, at 4:04 am, I am realizing that the possibility of an actual piece of furniture with no presupposed restrictions on it or definite boundaries is scaring the hell out of me. I thought I wasn't bothered by the last year... or of course knew I was bothered, but didn't know I was BROKEN, you know? Because I've been spending the last year getting back to feeling in control of everything and now the possibility (which I am avoiding taking) of aforementioned furniture - shared or otherwise - is leaving me spinning, and I don't know how to fix that part. Reupholstering everything but the actual thing that got so fucked up anyway during the last year which is my trust in others and my own judgement. The own judgement thing is the killer....

So THERE is why I haven't bought a fucking couch. We were looking for reasons as to why the 'old Gormley' is being shoved out by the 'new Gormley' - the Gormley who DEFINITELY needs to dry out this week/month, and think about buying a garbage can and ironing napkins. The Gormley who MAYBE should not use her floor as a closet anymore. At least Landry has furniture to borrow if I need to. Her delivery of this story would be funnier. I'll try and be snarkier next time. Back to bed.