1. I'm terrified I'm going to learn that girls do, in fact, go to the bathroom.

2. I haven't lived with a girl who considered me "possible marriage material" since college, when I moved in with my girlfriend who had dumped me the day before. So, that went pretty well. (Hint: If she dumped you, you shouldn't move in with her. The story has a horrible

ending and you'll complain about it after the movie.)

3. Wait, girls don't go to the bathroom, do they? Don't answer that, inner monologue.

4. I wonder how merging our stuff is going to go. Because I own a true-to-size lightsaber that makes "pshhhh! woooAaammmm" noises when you swing it and hit 

other lightsabers, and it lights up when you turn it on like a lightsaber actually lights up and maybe we can put that in the living room and holy shit, how do I have a girlfriend?

5. Maybe I should just throw away most of what I own and start over because of number four.


Look. I know I'm a nice guy and my girlfriend dates me because I make her laugh and all that adorable crap you certainly don't want to read about, but I also know that she's not dating me because of my exquisite taste and/or interior decorating skills. 

For the entirety of her knowing me, I'd lived in a studio apartment that was a glorified Motel 6 room with a dying succulent (the plant that's not capable of dying), the same goddamn Ikea lamp every human being owns, and terrible canvas blowups of two horribly Instagram-before-there-was-Instagram

photos that I stole off some random person's Flickr, which I'm pretty sure is illegal. 

In comparison, my girlfriend's place is bonkers nice. It has real things that real people have in their homes, like bowls for stuff I didn't know you needed bowls for, ginormous decorative candles, and vases that you pronounce "VAHHHHSes." 

And I was coming in with a lightsaber. 

It's safe to say I needed a little help. 

Luckily, being a snarky writer has its perks from time to time, and the lovely folks at Art.com agreed to let me put stuff all over my new home using their website. I found some amazing ways to use them to make me look really good and trick my girlfriend into thinking I knew what I was doing – and if you're a guy who owns a lightsaber and you're moving in with your girlfriend? Maybe they can help you not look like a guy who owns a lightsaber, too.



Your girlfriend has a Pinterest page. You know why? Because girls are contractually obligated by some secret society of women to have one, and if they don't they're not allowed to smell nice or talk to other girls anymore (educated guess, really). 

Do you know what girls do on Pinterest? Post pictures of the crap they want in their house. That's all they do. It's like a passive-aggressive registry that you can draft off of and look like you totally "get her."

Art.com made a crazy app called Artmatch that lets you take a picture of art, and it will then find out exactly what it is and let you purchase it. 

In total creeper fashion, I went to my girlfriend’s Pinterest page and found some pin she had of a black-and-white photo of some ballerinas dancing on a windowsill (which is like Pinterest 101, p.s.), found it on Art.com using the app, and then casually asked if we should get that for the living room. 

Am I losing a bit of my dignity because we have ballerinas in our living room? Yes, I am. Do the ballerinas allow me to have a lightsaber in that living room? Yes, they do. Give and take, folks. Give and take. 



Moving in with a girl requires you to start doing things like "having people over for a dinner party," an event at which everyone will come over to your house and spend the whole time judging the shit out of your place so they can talk about it with their significant other when they get home. There is a horrifying amount of pressure to look like you know what you're doing in terms of decorating. 


Luckily, we live in a wonderful brave new world where smart people do all the work on the Internet for you and let you take the credit. Art.com has profiles of a bunch of people (presumably ones whose dinner parties people love) who have really great taste. It's basically like paying an interior decorator to design your rooms for you, but then it's not, because you don't pay them. Pretty genius. 

Because I'm sort of a groupie for hipster-ish guy taste, I made a beeline for the most hipster looking guy in the lot and bought most of what he had in his profile, and then I told my girlfriend that I picked it all because it's just "stuff I like." She was confused by the picture I bought of Tokyo train lines, but I figured it'd be a ballsy pretentious thing to have when you've never been to Tokyo, so why not. 


Art.com had galleries selected by guys who have job titles that sound like "I have my shit together and make money." Those galleries feature pictures of vintage comics that we could have framed for our apartment. (If you haven't noticed a sweatpants-mouth-breather-superhero-loving-guy theme yet, it's shocking that this girl is dating me.)

Thanks to one of those guys, I somehow managed to get a comic book framed on my wall because he helped me convince her it was "vintage." Slap a “vintage” on anything and you're pretty much set. Just ask Instagram.



When moving in, I decided that we should paint our bedroom a fancy color because that's what people in relationships do. We went out and bought a paint with the most pretentious name possible (sea foam green: it makes my eyes pop, no big deal) and then I used another app that Art.com makes called Art Circles to tell me what to put on it, because I'm a wet blanket and I can't do anything by myself.

Basically, you pick a specific color and it finds things that look good with it, as opposed to me probably picking colors that don't match or go well together, like the way I've gotten dressed every single day of my entire life. 

I'm just glad they're finally making apps like this that make you look smarter, and fewer apps like the ones where people play Pictionary together even though they can't draw. Feels like we're finally going in the right direction. 


I hate when people casually talk about styles of art, because it's hard not to sound like a douchebag. Honestly, I want to get art, but I just don't. Guess who else probably doesn’t? Everyone times two. 

Luckily, Art.com has the "you don't know what you're talking about" organizational system that allows me to pick a pretentious art word and buy things that are specifically that, so that I can hang it in my house and look smart and also know the period it was from. 

You're welcome, dinner party that gets to hear about my apparent love of pop art. 



Sixty percent of the time it works every time. Because most girls love France, and/or pictures of it.  And Art.com has a billion trillion of them. 

There are a million ways to screw up the move-in-marriage-test-drive phase of a relationship. 

At least now, my lack of any or all decorating skills isn't one of them. 

P.S. She let me keep the lightsaber


Did you read this and think, “Man, I’d sure like a picture of a comic book on my wall”? Did you read this and think, “Man, I’d sure like a lightsaber in my living room”? Well, Art.com can help you with the first part, and maybe that’ll help you with the second part, as I explained. Head over to Art.com to check out some inspiring insidersdownload their crazy apps, or just be mesmerized by the fact that you can look up just about anything in the world and Art.com will have a million variations of it available for purchase, like this