All grown up

We’ve talked about getting new furniture for awhile. We almost bought new furniture a couple of times. Finally this weekend, we agreed on living room furniture and made a purchase. Today, La-Z-Boy delivered that new furniture — a burgundy leather sofa and matching recliner. These two very nice pieces of furniture replace the futon that has graced our family room for the past couple of years and held the place of honor in my tiny apartment’s living room before that. We previously bought end tables at the unfinished furniture expo store and considered those our first real pieces of grown up furniture. Now — with the exception of a hand-me-down coffee table that will probably be relegated to the basement — our family room looks like a place where grown ups visit with other grown ups, sip wine in front of the fire and watch important television programs on PBS and CNN. Granted my boyfriend has already determined that the Playstation2 controller can reach the recliner, we usually watch the SciFi channel or Comedy Central, and we have a pretty extensive collection of Disney and Pixar movies, two entire seasons of Justice League and both Ultimate Avengers: The Movie and Ultimate Avengers 2 … so maybe not all grown up. But it’s a start.

What's in a name?

My boyfriend and I have been together for more than three years now. While we have no immediate intentions of marrying, we consider ourselves committed. Being in our 30s it sometimes feels strange to refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. But none of the other terms for committed relationships feel right either.

Significant other: Sounds so 90s — and fake.
Life partner: We’re not a gay couple.
Heterosexual life partner: We’re not Jay and Silent Bob.
Husband: If we’re not legally married, I’m not going to pretend. While I don’t necessarily want to get married, if I have the title, I want the rock. (And don’t start lecturing me about blood diamonds, because I’d be happy with an heirloom piece or a garnet, ruby, opal — even moissanite).
Lover: Ugh — sounds like we’re having an affair in a cheesy 80s novel.
Gentleman friend: Once we’re living in a retirement village, maybe.
The guy I’m shacking up with
The old ball and chain
Sweetie

Ok, so boyfriend sounds like we’re in high school, but it’s better than the alternatives.