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Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Roomie, sweet roomie

“History: gossip well told.” ~Elbert Hubbard, The Roycroft Dictionary


Other than parents and brother, I have had six roommates. Six people to (un) successfully adapt to. Six people to drive me batshit insane and contemplate taking out a small loan in order to live in peace, quiet and nakedness. I’ve been thinking about the string of poor and unsuspecting individuals that have been my roommates, over the past few days. At times smiling and remembering the good times and other times recalling the days when I really thought of how I would look in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, because I swear on my life that if I hear you and your boyfriend fucking in our dorm room, that I will shoot the both of you. What follows is a brief account of my time with each. I swear that in each case the roommate was at fault and that I was a pleasure and a wonder to behold. Honest:

Name: Amber

Dates: August 2001-January 2002, Fall Freshman year

Most Memorable moment: She was sleeping in the next bed when 9/11 happened. She was the person I looked for during the bomb threat two days later. Needless to say it was a rough month.

(Their) Batshit insanity: One day things were cool, we used my fake ID to buy Tenley Vodka and have 422 Anderson parties. She watched me puke on unsuspecting plants/showers on numerous occasions. The next day, she informed me that she was moving out and I said, alrighty then.

In the end: I was friends with the girl she went abroad with. Apparently she and this girl, Rosie, were supposed to be roommates for Senior year and then Amber disappeared off the face of the earth. No address, calls made to her father’s house were not received because the number no longer worked. She dropped out of school apparently. I was like, whatever dude, I knew she was weird and forgot about it. At the beginning of last summer, I saw her on the AU shuttle and put sunglasses on and used my purse to cover my face. She was wearing a Ruby Tuesday’s uniform. Haven’t seen her since.

Name: Kenya

Dates: January 2002 – May 2002, Spring Freshman year

Most Memorable moment: The time she took out my braids and blow dried my hair (This is fucking huge. Seriously.) Visited her family in ATL over spring break. Went to visit her in Rome, where we fought on some random Italian bridge and she ripped my new Euro-chic coat.

(Their) Batshit insanity: Ok, this one was my fault. We were cool, I went to visit her and this girl Alexis that we were friends with over Spring Break sophomore year and we had a bit of a fight, that involved me being drunk and screaming obscenities on an Italian street corner and threatening to go home. I am a shameless whore. After that we were fine I suppose and were supposed to live together Senior Year but I decided that living alone would make me less homicidal.

In the end: Kenya and I are still buds and now that she’s in GA permanently I fucking miss her man. She was my movie going buddy. We would sneak into movies all afternoon. And SHE TOOK MY BRAIDS OUT. I will never have a friend like that again.

Name: Robyn (with a fucking ‘Y’ even though it was really Robin, with an ‘I’)

Dates: August 2002 – May 2003. Sophomore year. The entire fucking year.

Most Memorable moment: The time she called me an ice princess. Also the weekend that her boyfriend was going to come stay overnight (which she only informed me of 24 hours prior to his arrival), but instead her grandmother died, so her bf couldn’t stay over and I ended up hosting my bf* after a night of jazz and five martinis. Oh, to be young, stupid and in love again. Also, that little sniper incident.

(Their) Batshit insanity: Lordy, where to start. The all black ensemble? The time she cut off all her hair in our room, so that her hair was on the fucking floor? The Hedwig and the Angry Inch poster? Her over dramatic ways? The fact that she called me a princess? Or the rampant, loud sex?

In the end: I used to see her in the Quad and contemplate throwing shit (not actual shit, but things) at her. I am mean.

Name: Kimber

Dates: May 2003 – January 2004. Summer/Fall Semester, junior year.

Most Memorable moment: Our first meeting over a trip to IKEA. Everything since then. Things that I really can’t speak of in a public forum because the Feds/my coworkers read this shit.

(Their) Batshit insanity: Now, I can’t speak poorly of Kimber, because she’s Kimber and she means a lot to me. But I will speak of her poor choice in friends (not me of course) that lead me toward the homicidal route once again. She had (or still has) this whorish friend who I hate the fury of a thousand suns for a very good reason that I cannot speak of, but still, HATE. RAGE. HATE. Kimber and I had been friends way before this other girl came along and then Kimber started to ignore me and hung out with this other girl 24/7. I was jealous and hurt, which she knows about and has since apologized for. But if you knew what this other girl did, you’d want to kick her in the shins and crash her precious Benz into Tiffany’s.

In the end: She’s still my best friend and I’m still her ‘B’. And we both think that the Chef Geoff’s downtown deserves the finger.

Name: Teresa and Victor

Dates: January 15 May 6 2005. Spring senior year.

Most Memorable moment: When I got food poisoning and didn’t let her take care of me. She called my program supervisor concerned. That time she paid $60 for a Brita (a luxury in Spain). She used to iron my underwear. (re-read that last sentence please)

(Their) Batshit insanity: Though she meant well, Teresa was overbearing and always up in my shit. She also thought that because I don’t eat pork, chicken or beef, then that means that I eat rabbit and lamb. Duh (the hell?!) She was just lonely and wanted to take care of someone since her children were adults and didn’t need her anymore. Woman could make a mean tortilla and paella.

In the end: Lord knows what she thinks of me now, since the last time I saw her I had thrown up all over her bathroom and then mumbled something to her in a drunken stupor, while she shoved me in a cab to the airport. Hope she’s doing well.


And the reason for this post in the first place, for he is leaving me at the end of the month to move to greener pastures known as Jersey

Name: Jam*

Dates: September 2005 – August 2006.

Most Memorable moment: JK-JE 2004. The revolving door of girls were always a good time. Never could remember their names though.

(Their) Batshit insanity: Save for a minor incident with Pepco, he was a pleasure. He cleaned when needed and always got me into great clubs and bars. He was quiet and it’s so true about da boys; They hate the drama.

In the end: He’s like my brother: My older cooler, hotter brother who likes to get me drunk with expensive drinks. He is a player and I love him for it.

Ok fine, I’m not perfect, but I swear I’ll try with the next one; especially since I don’t have a grand to blow on a two bedroom condo. I’m guessing now wouldn’t be a good time to ask if there are any takers…


*Edit to Add: So, this morning around 2 AM, I hear Jam yelling something about how he can't handle this shit, then in the background, I hear some girl talking to him. I get up, to tell him to shut the hell up (but I would've been more polite. Maybe.) And when I open the door, what do I see? A tall, skinny, blonde (at least I think she was blonde) in nothing but her bra and panties.

I'm not sure if I was more disturbed by the lack of clothing (who the hell walks around someone elses apartment without clothes on??) or by the fact that this bitch was hotter than me? She was probably judging my hotness, or lack thereof. Or at least that's what I thought at 2 AM.

16 Comments:

Blogger Kris said...

Even though we aren't technically sleeping together, I can't wait to see the entry like this about spending time with Jurgen and me at BlogHer. Alls Kris knows is that she gets to be the one to blow dry your hair.

And there will be no vomiting.

4:09 PM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

No vomiting? What the hell is the point then?

That entry will be more like "OMG we saw Amalah and I told her she was awesome. And I was so drunk, OMG. And then she fired me"

Can't wait.

4:16 PM  
Anonymous Whinger said...

Oh Blogher. Can't wait. :)

It's a real wonder that any one of us can live with anyone else. We should all be allocated noise-proof bunks in some sort of Pueblo-like apartment situation.

5:22 PM  
Blogger Liz said...

LOVE the name Jam. In so many ways.

We've got a spare room if you need it. Towels are in the hall closet, liquor's in the laundry room.

7:25 PM  
Blogger jackt said...

I would expect that someone who irons your underwear would be all up in your bizned.

4:13 AM  
Blogger Heather B. said...

Whinger: As long as there is alcohol in the bunks, then I'm all for it.

Liz: Do you live near a metro? If so, I'm game.

Jackt: It was so weird. She also ironed my pajama pants and the clothes that I went running in. When I told her it wasn't necessary for her to do that, she got semi-offended, so I just let her go ahead and iron away.

9:16 AM  
Blogger darlin nikki said...

the ironing roomie is pretty amazing, sounds good from afar, but to live with nuh uh. back in the dorms it was three against this one girl who was kinda snotty so we'd be extra deliciously riotous on nights she bugged us and we were hanging out. like the night the shopping cart somehow ended up in the bathroom. classic ;)

9:31 AM  
Anonymous MappyB said...

Blogher, I'm jealous.

I love your roommate stories, I've had 12 roommates, and they've all been equally as bad, and I'm only still friends with two of them.

10:12 AM  
Blogger Dagny said...

Anyone who takes out your braids is a true friend. The closest I have gotten to that are the students who offer -- for a small nominal fee.

And I might just need to head on down to San Jose to have a cocktail or two with y'all.

10:20 AM  
Anonymous Jorge said...

Wow.
Ballzy of Mama to invoke a "no barfing" rule.

Yes.
I spelled it with a z. She's that ballzy.

12:56 PM  
Blogger Complacent Chase said...

I love how alcohol has played a part in most of your memories! ha ha

3:01 PM  
Anonymous isabel said...

Roomies...gotta love them. And then you gotta love it when you finally get a place of your own.

Now my roomie is my husband and there's nothing I can do about it.

4:07 PM  
Anonymous LisaBinDaCity said...

And that is EXACTLY why I choose to live alone with the dog as my roommate! Oh and regular semi live in visits from my significant other ;-)

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

8:17 AM  
Blogger Kate said...

Wow, this brings up memories of Freshman Year Jenni and the Dawn Dish Soap Incident.

(This would be the incident where we were borderline fistfighting over a bottle of $1.59 dish detergent.)

After Jenni, there was a streak of living alone for 5 blissful years.

Thanks for sharing your memories - hilarious, and good to know I wasn't the only one with a not good living situation. Huh.

8:57 AM  
Anonymous Joy said...

That was a great read! I just graduated and it brings back so many memories. This is inspiration to write about my room mates from college. Cheers!

9:24 AM  
Anonymous Maliavale said...

The hair thing is love.

Although I had a Hedwig poster. And magnets. And the DVD.

I swear, though, I'm well-adjusted. Something about that movie stirred in my soul. Or maybe I just like glitter.

12:12 AM  

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