Well, I've moved.
The move yesterday took about 6 hours, what with various trips across the city to pick up a couple pieces of furniture and a trip to the storage facility to dump off most of my belongings, before driving over to A's, where I'm now all settled. I imagined it would take me at least until the end of today to unpack and settle in, but I was almost entirely finished by about 11 last night, and did the rest (a total of about half an hour) today. Now I'm ensconced in my tiny, oh-so-cozy room, staring up at the dark wood ceiling. It's lovely.
Mr. K seems to be adjusting very well. He is curled up on his bed in front of the fire - he's always drawn to fires. I've put rescue remedy in his water, and have been putting it on the occasional treat. It really seems to be doing the trick. A big dog park is less than ten minutes' walk away, and he has his old pal, A's dog Charlie, to soften the blow. Charlie is the most relaxed dog I've ever met. Compared to my Mr. K, who is high-maintenance, a live wire, Charlie is practically comatose. In the best way, of course - he's a sweetie. My being here lets A go and stay at her girlfriend's - she couldn't before, because there's a cat over there, and she couldn't leave Charlie here. So I'm happy to be able to help them out that way - and since Charlie is such an incredibly chill dog, it is not a bit of extra work.
It's strange to be back in this part of town. This city is characterized, like any other, by several implicit geographic divisions. Districts develop their own histories, their own very distinct character. In moving to A's, I am essentially moving back to the part of the city I grew up in, and then worked in for years. The part that made me who I am, in many ways, but that I consciously moved away from, to the other side. It's very strange, though - this pocket of the city continues to draw me in. The last time I was between homes, between relationships, I spent five months in this very neighbourhood, renting a room from a grad school colleague/friend. That house is a 3-minute walk from here, tops - about 3 blocks away. I don't know what this neighbourhood is telling me, pulling me back over and over again. No matter; I like it a lot, even if I once turned my back on it - and, if I were going to stay in Home City, would inevitably leave it yet again.
I do miss GF incredibly. We had dinner out on Friday night, the night before I moved. It was emotional. And, because we'd had some wine, rather honest. GF told me again that my liabilities are that I am "nice, honest, and straightforward." Sigh. You'd think such qualities would be a benefit in a relationship, but apparently not. I'm up for an affair here or there, perhaps, but no more of this relationship shit for a long, long time. I shall marry my work, thank you very much.
Still, though, this has been remarkably smooth. And that smoothness comes from A. I am lucky to be able to spend the time with her that this housemate situation will afford, especially if I am to move far away to take up a job.
I met A in the fall of 1998. She was in a band that my new girlfriend, JZ, was in. They were a little four-person outfit that was all the rage for about six months, playing academic events and lesbian parties with their repertoire of Peggy Lee, Ella Fitzgerald, and Al Green songs. A played the drums. The band ended, my relationship with JZ ended, and so did many of the other friendships and relationships that came out of that little slice of our Home City lesbian history - but A's and my friendship has held on. She is brillliant and competent - she can fly a plane! build a patio! landscape a garden! scuba dive! make art! psychoanalyze you! fix anything! play the drums! sing beautifully! - and freaking hi.la.ri.ous. As shitty as the circumstances are, I'm awfully pleased to be able to live here with her for a while.