14 October 2011
3 shacking up
scandal of all scandals: i once lived with a boy.
it was the only time i ever had a washer and dryer in-unit and, in my mind, those facts are connected. (and yes, this was donovan.)
we lived together because living together was easier than discussing the fact that we were incompatible and admitting that we neither of us wanted to marry. sometimes there's really no better way to do that than moving in.
this all would've been fine and par for the course of growing up were it not for the unfortunate fact that we lived together in memphis, where my parents also lived.
listen to your oline: don't ever do this.
if you're going to live with someone, move far, far away from your parents. if you cannot go to another country, choose another region. if not another region, go to another state. at the very bare minimum, go two towns over. especially if you're an only child. definitely if you're a daughter.
whatever you do, do not shack up six miles from your mom.
my parents refer to this era euphemistically as "that time you lived at the gilmore." it would be equally accurate to call it "those six months when we cried every time anyone spoke your name."
fun times for us eatons.
to this day, my parents think this the worst decision i ever made, but i like to stray from the party line and consider it one of my wisest.
for the obvious fact that it got me to chicago and also because, in the depression that unfurled in the midst of the six months where i was responsible for making my parents cry every time anyone spoke my name, i did manage to write the jackiebook.
but there's more to it than that.
i think every now and again we have to fail so spectacularly that we are stunned by the spectacle of our own failure. if only so we might be reminded that we can, in fact, begin again.