Guests

We could have, we were invited to, stay at the home of friends on this last trip. But we are neither of us comfortable with this. We once had to stay with his parents, and once with mine, episodes that cause both of us to shudder in suppressed horror. We've been invited to stay at the home of a friend's mom in Portland, and we both recoiled. We treasure our privacy and our own space, and feel profoundly intrusive on others when we ignore this urge. Rare exceptions have been made since.

Each of us individually have stayed a night or two with out of town friends, but it's almost always very uncomfortable and mostly sleepless. During a week long period of homelessness, we started one night in a friend's basement, and wound up re-packing the car, leaving an apologetic note, and driving through the night until we found a hotel during conference weekend. Unable to sleep, hungry and restless, we had to escape.

On the other hand, I'd stay with our cousins in Massachusetts anytime, and put them up anywhere, even to giving them our bed and sleeping on the floor myself. I won't speak for D, but I suspect he'd feel the same. I did just fine at Moira and C's three years ago, although I know I was a burden.

And although we have made guests comfortable when we've had the room, I didn't handle well a surprize extra visitor who wound up in our living room, to my extreme irritation since I had to get up and dressed and eat at 0600 that morning in front of a younger brother I'd never met before. We hosted D's brother, a friend, and Moira and C in our largest apartment in Boston, all of which worked out very nicely. So, it can work. We just have to have the space, and I have to get myself in the right place in my head. I like the idea of guests, just very little practice with the extra room to do it right.

The friend who wanted us in San Diego? Well, maybe now that I have met his spouse, which I hadn't before. Maybe next time, if we can't afford a hotel that time. Maybe.