5 Things I Underestimated Before Moving-In With My Girlfriend

August 13, 2013

Hello, hello, hello, how low!

In two months time, I will have spent a year living in a house with my girlfriend. A REAL girl; not one of those make-believe ones. A real girl that I’m definitely not paying to be my live-in girlfriend either. I make almost no money and she’s on the fast track to being a Fortune 500 vice president. I’m more or less earning my keep through dinner suggestions, back-rubs, and taking the garbage out. Anyway…

It’s been 10 months since we moved in together and at the end of this week it will be 3 years since we started dating. The positives of living together have completely out-weighed the negatives. The main negative is sharing a bed because you can’t sleep spread-eagle anymore. I don’t know about you, when I go to sleep I take up a little amount of space, but the longer I sleep the more my body wants to sttttrrrrreeeeetttttcccchhhh out. So, that’s a negative and I can assume I’m that same negative for her. Also, I hold my beefiest farts in until I get to a bathroom or possibly an abandoned wind-tunnel — I’m assuming the same goes for her.

The positives: sex, we literally slap each other’s butts a lot when walking around the house which has not gotten any less funny in 10 months, we cook together which has made me really learn to cook, someone to talk to, someone to listen to talk, and I’m really just understanding what it is like to have a partner. A partner in life. A person to tackle the world with or to tackle dishes with or to tackle the exhaustive process of folding laundry with. It’s like being apart of a pro-wrestling tag team. I was a single’s wrestler for years and I’ll be honest – I wasn’t competing for the WWF Heavyweight Championship belt. I was meandering around the mid-card hoping for a number one contender’s match with Duke “The Dumpster” Droese for the European title, not even the Intercontinental with Mr. Perfect. BUT! Now, that I have a girlfriend, we’re on the main stage of tag matches against the Legion of Doom and Demolition. With her by my side, we’re completing for a World title on a PPV as opposed to by myself I was rasslin’ a garbage man on the undercard.

That analogy is about as romantic as I’m going to get here.

Back to the topic, I had expectations for what living with a girlfriend would be like. Some were right, some were wrong, and some I was close to but I underestimated the severity of them or the multitude of it or really the … well … you’ll see. So, here are 5 things I underestimated before moving-in with @_dharv


I had fully expected to own only a small part of the bathroom. I expected that. I don’t have too many grooming products to go into the bathroom to begin with. Tooth brush, hair brush, razor, beard trimmer, I use bar soap to clean my face and body, and I use shampoo for my hair. I got a couple free bottles of a body wash, so I did buy one of those dainty shower sponge things that looks like a doily came to life.

The underestimation was in how quickly and how successfully and how completely Danielle would claim every other remaining inch of the bathroom. That was amazing. It was impressive, in fact. It was the greatest game of RISK I’ve ever seen where she took Asia, Europe, and the Americas before I could even get my piddly 2 bonus armies in Australia going. On move-in day, I entered that bathroom when it was empty that morning and by that night the war had been one without me even getting a chance to fire my first shots.

I lost both medicine cabinets above and below the sink and I lost the additional shelving unit next to the tub. I walked away with a place to put my toothbrush, a tiny drawer to keep my beard trimmer, and I’ve got full-control over two of the 10 shelves of the two shower caddies. I have partial control of one other shelf on that shower caddy, but I’m not pushing my luck on that.


Let’s cut to the chase: I find her hair in my underwear.

While a rhyme, it is no joke. I expected to have hair everywhere, but not to that degree. For years as a child, I never understood how much one sheds when one has long hair. I thought something was wrong with my sister or that she was clogging up the drain on purpose. She didn’t clean the drain on purpose, but I thought she was intentionally clogging it to fuck with us. How could someone lose that much hair on a daily basis and still have hair on their head?

In college, I grew my hair out and finally understood the insanity of it. I used to take showers where I would run my fingers through my hair and my hand would come out the other side with clumps left behind and I would take those clumps of long hair and line them across the shower wall and just stare at that nightmare. The first time I did that I worried I had cancer. By the end of that week, I just realized you fucking shed A LOT. Like you’re a nervous golden retriever.

So, I expected hair to be all over the place. What no one could have expected is how often I find it interwoven by my private parts. That was shocking. It has to do with the laundering of our clothes together or us sleeping in the same bed or it’s an elaborate plot of hers to tag me with her hair before she sends me into the wild. I don’t know. But every so often, when I’m leisurely scratching my balls or I’m simply rummaging through my underwear when going to the bathroom – I find a special present my lady left me… a near two foot single strand of hair to remind me of her.


I never could have guessed how short of a span of time nail polish lasts. The painting of nails is a near nightly activity. It’s usually every other night. It could be nightly though. I think Danielle just doesn’t want to do it every night, but it could easily be a once every 24 hours kind of appointment. It’s not even about manicures and chipping nails, it’s simply the product just isn’t meant to last for any reasonable amount of time and it takes constant up-keep.

I know that girls paint their nails and they can do it often, but I thought it was more about them wanting to paint their nails as in enjoying the process of having fresh nail polish on and/or a different color. Not that it had to be done because this shit expires quicker than milk left on the counter.

My appreciation for painted nails has not gone up, but my appreciation for the commitment to having painted nails certainly has. It’s a real struggle and I know that now.


I LOVE THAT GAME! I am an addicted people watcher. I can’t get enough of looking at people and just marveling at how they do in a good or bad way. It’s really just amazing how people choose to leave the house.

It’s something I thought I was already good at – spotting ridiculous outfits or ridiculous actions. I keep my head on a swivel and my eyes are always looking for something interesting, but I’m only one man. I will miss things. But now, with another set of eyes involved, it’s like I see everything! If someone is behind me and Danielle sees them then she gives me the heads up or she at least tells me afterward or something. It’s like we’re cataloging all the crazies in the world and we’re doing it with double the intensity now.

Sometimes there is a breakdown in the system where one assumes the other saw something too, but we’re working on that.

And once you do see something that is noteworthy, it’s time to revel in it with another person as opposed to trying to memorize it and later describe it to someone. I mean any time we leave the house, there is a “you had to been there” kind of moment and with that we are there together, so she knows what happened and we can reminisce about it time and time again … like the middle aged woman with Farrah Fawcett hair in a full yellow velour track suit with a box of wine simply losing her shit at the Mexican restaurant who we dubbed “Big Bird”.


I have a girlfriend. I’m living with that girlfriend. I have a dog with that girlfriend. We would like to move into another more permanent residence together. All those things combined means that I’ve kind of given up on being cool around strangers. Or I should say TRYING to be cool in public with strangers.

I don’t know if I was ever coming off cool, but when you’re out in the world and you’re running across strangers – you try to play it cool because this is the first impression you’re giving them. You want to walk like you’re a cool walker or order a cool drink in a cool way or really just appear like you’ve got your shit together in a cool way. For me, I’m kind of done with that.

Old habits die hard and all that, but I do catch myself sometimes when I’m trying to play it cool or worrying about if I’m playing it cool and I think to myself – ahhhh, who gives a fuck? I don’t give a fuck about these people. Danielle’s not here to see me looking like an idiot. Also, Danielle’s not going to leave me if I drop a piece of food on myself at dinner and then we go to the movies afterward and I’m walking around with a little sauce on me. Seriously, she saw me drop the food on me, laughed at me already, and she doesn’t care that much that I’m walking around with a stain on my shirt going to see a midnight screening of some dumbass comic book movie. So, fuck it.

Sometimes, I’m just walking around town. Sometimes, I feel like I’m walking weird. I don’t know why. Maybe my back hurts, maybe I slept weird, maybe I just walk weird when I’m not paying attention to how I’m walking. I don’t know. And, I think to myself, who gives a shit if I’m walking weird? I don’t know any of these people. So what? I’m walking weird. Get over yourselves and your seemingly normal walking. Sometimes, I haven’t showered before I go to the bank or the grocery store and my hair probably looks crazy like Christopher Walken meets Kramer from “Seinfeld”. Who gives a shit? Fuck you people and your hair judgment. I don’t need to wash my hair and brush it to pick up lemons from your stupid ass grocery store. Shut up, you idiots.

Got a little aggressive there. Either way, it’s I guess a lack of insecurity or something to that effect, but I already convinced one of yous to be with me – I’m not Mormon or an African king, so I don’t need a second. When she’s around, I try to still be cool because I’d like to stay competing in the tag team division, but when she’s not around – I may let some shit slide like caring about you staring at my unwashed hair while I buy lemons.


2 Responses to “5 Things I Underestimated Before Moving-In With My Girlfriend”

  1. If you’re going to go with the professional wrestler analogy, then I expect you to go with the professional wrestler attire. Time to stock up on spandex, mister!

  2. I’m also just picturing you walking around Morristown like this now: http://stream1.gifsoup.com/view3/1164562/silly-walk-o.gif.

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