Commonlaw dating.

Yeah- I'm logged into diaryland and Myspace simultantously when I know damn well that I have a staggering amount of research to do. My concience says "gee whiz, Emma- you might be on the verge of an incredible art-historical breakthrough! Surely your blog is not more important than that!"

Actually, Mr. Conscience, it is. You see, I need "Emma time." Also, that intricately carved 2000-year old chuck o' rock isn't getting any newer as I sit here. No one will spontaneously publish tonight what hasn't been proposed in the 100 years since it was found in Pompeii. My boss/mentor will be fine with me coming in tomorrow with inconclusive findings etc.

Besides, it's fucking Sunday! This is the one day of the week when it's normal to *heaven forbid* not work. Geez.

As for cool stuff, Rose called today. That's always fun, since Rose and I have been carrying on a long-distance relationship for years. No, no- I'm not batting for the other team- in the words of Ryan's "hetero-life-partner", Steven (who was in turn quoting a Kevin Smith movie), you could call Rose my "hetero-life-partner."

And speaking of "life partners," I called Ryan that today and he bristled at the implied comiitment level. I pointed out that it was surely no worse than calling him my *gasp* boyfriend, but he quickly corrected me-

"Roommate, Emma- I'm your roommate."

Haha, *cough*, um... okay. Yeah, you're the roommate I've kinda been sleeping with for the last 7 months. The roommate who takes me out to dinner at my favorite resturants and lets me win at air hockey. The roommate who whispers he loves me when he's falling asleep and makes little whimpering noises when I leave for school in the morning.

Yes, he is that kind of roommate, which just gets us into semantics. I mean seriously- when you describe someone who does all those things it calls to mind a level of intimacy more elevated than that you associate with the word "roommate." There are dozens of words that fit the definition I just gave and *alas* roommate's not one of them. I know he genuinely digs me and that should be more than enough. If two people love each other what more do they need?

...at least, that's what my SmartBrain (patent pending) thinks. My StupidBrain (patent also pending) has a problem though. You see, my StupidBrain controls irrational and violent reactions to mild stimuli. It's what makes me cry when I'm tired and throw up when I'm nervous. It also fills me with an urge to run like hell when commitment is mentioned, which is why its present behavior is up to 20% stupider than the next leading brand. You see, I still get queazy at the notion of "marriage" or "settling down" but would it kill him to acknowledge our relationship? My StupidBrain says "fuck no, girlfriend! That boy gotta treat you right!" and then encourages me to nag him incessantly.

Ryan does not appreciate incessant nagging.

Go figure.

Am I a pawn of a superficial society that teaches people that their incredibly gratifying relationships are invalid if not acknowledged by the outside world? I guess so, and that pisses me off, but I guess I shouldn't worry too much. After all- if we keep living together we'll be commonlaw-dating by the end of the year.