I unappreciate

I am incapable of appreciating the things my girlfriend does for me. At least that is what I am led to believe. The love of my life has recently decided to redecorate our living room and dining room. I don't want people to misunderstand and take away that I had any say in the matter or even any notice that this was taking place. I walked in after work on Thursday and noticed my New York Jets banner that had been hanging on the wall was gone and we suddenly had more shit in our terribly crowded apartment. Muttering to myself I aggressively shaved my head, so aggressively in fact that the guard fell off and I managed to no-guard about a four inch line on the tippy top part of my dome. Fuck.

I don't think that my predicament is particular to me and my situation. As many of my buddies attempt to settle down and move in with their lady I hear it again and again. "My stuff. It's gone." It is always a bit of a shock to walk into a once wild buddies place and see it adorned with hummels and awkward couple photos. It is something as men that I don't think we even attempt to fight anymore. So maybe drunken Polaroids and posters with sluts holding beer cans isn't exactly fine art but where does it stand in comparison the worthless meaningless crap that is now tacked to each and and every one of our walls for those have surrendered to the fairer sexes whims? I fight hard to at least have a few of my things out although I hear about it to no end. Sure the huge ass lucky cat, the Zhang Fei porcelain with the creepy eyes, and the Jets banner don't fit with the overall decorum but damn it, they're mine.

That said I didn't realize that she had painted the walls an entirely different color until the cat walked by covered in paint. So what is my argument really? Clearly I'm so caught up in my own head I lack the faculties to posses an informed opinion. I don't really care what it looks and as long as it doesn't plunge me into seizures when I walk in the door. It is nice that the three of us can now eat together and I don't have to eat on floor because my daughter stole my seat at the table. There isn't a fine line of mold tracing the crevices of my home like there was in college. That's nice. I don't appreciate how I'm no longer allowed to bring home things I found in the dumpster, whether or not I think I can make furniture out of them. But I do like not cutting my feet on broken beer bottles and being surrounded the constant presence of vomit. Plus it just looks better. She did a good job. That Jets banner went back up though.