.......... with my last post, there are just as many things to love about living with roommates as well. But 'Rez is writing a post about that as we speak and since I'm sure she's covering all the obvious points like raiding for a cup of milk and clean socks, I'm just going to give specific examples.
Times I was glad I had a roommate.
Those times when I wanted a cold soda and hadn't thought to buy any.
That one time I woke up at 1 AM and couldn't sleep and neither could my roomie so we drank coffee and laid on the dining room table all night and pretended the house was upside down and planned how we would re-arrange the purple suede couches on the ceiling.
When I was adjusting to life in Minnesota and didn't know that sometimes they sound the tornado sirens just to test them.
All those times I needed quarters for laundry.
That one cold day when we sat on the washer and dryer and made dirty jokes while our clothes got clean.
When I bought that really adorable dress for an event and couldn't wait to show someone.
When I was so depressed that even having someone to be angry at gave me something to feel.
When I didn't have to find a strange petsitter that my cats were afraid of.
All those times I learned to calm down, clean it myself, watch my tongue or say a sincere, "I'm sorry, I was thoughtless, how can I fix it?"
When she remembered when the electric bill was due, and actually had a stamp.
When I had that recipe calling for some obscure and unpronounceable spice and my roommate actually had some so I didn't have to make a trip at 10pm for an $8 bottle of something I'd never use again.
All those timesI brought people over to an apartment I hadn't cleaned and blamed the mess on my roommate.
All those times I blamed the prank calls on my roommate.
Getting a new set of friends.
All those south american recipes my old roomie used to try to teach me.
Those couple of times when she's watching America's Next Top Model and rooting for that really annoying whiny chick that stands for all the girls you hated in high school and you're reading a book and you are about to go to bed and you notice she's fallen asleep and you tuck the crocheted blanket (that her mother made that's so ugly but she insists on having on the couch in the living room) around her toes and turn off the annoying show and shuffle off in your old ratty pjs that you only wear when it's too hot for flannel and too cold for shorts/tank top and you leave the hall light on for her even though it drives her nuts when you leave lights on and you smile as you reach your bedroom door and think it's nice to know that you can live with someone and know everything about her, including every maddening little habit and still actually like her, and if two girls with nothing in comman can live in a tight space with a limited budget and not only not kill each other but actally still like each other, then in a sense, there's hope for the world.
Times I was glad I had a roommate.
Those times when I wanted a cold soda and hadn't thought to buy any.
That one time I woke up at 1 AM and couldn't sleep and neither could my roomie so we drank coffee and laid on the dining room table all night and pretended the house was upside down and planned how we would re-arrange the purple suede couches on the ceiling.
When I was adjusting to life in Minnesota and didn't know that sometimes they sound the tornado sirens just to test them.
All those times I needed quarters for laundry.
That one cold day when we sat on the washer and dryer and made dirty jokes while our clothes got clean.
When I bought that really adorable dress for an event and couldn't wait to show someone.
When I was so depressed that even having someone to be angry at gave me something to feel.
When I didn't have to find a strange petsitter that my cats were afraid of.
All those times I learned to calm down, clean it myself, watch my tongue or say a sincere, "I'm sorry, I was thoughtless, how can I fix it?"
When she remembered when the electric bill was due, and actually had a stamp.
When I had that recipe calling for some obscure and unpronounceable spice and my roommate actually had some so I didn't have to make a trip at 10pm for an $8 bottle of something I'd never use again.
All those timesI brought people over to an apartment I hadn't cleaned and blamed the mess on my roommate.
All those times I blamed the prank calls on my roommate.
Getting a new set of friends.
All those south american recipes my old roomie used to try to teach me.
Those couple of times when she's watching America's Next Top Model and rooting for that really annoying whiny chick that stands for all the girls you hated in high school and you're reading a book and you are about to go to bed and you notice she's fallen asleep and you tuck the crocheted blanket (that her mother made that's so ugly but she insists on having on the couch in the living room) around her toes and turn off the annoying show and shuffle off in your old ratty pjs that you only wear when it's too hot for flannel and too cold for shorts/tank top and you leave the hall light on for her even though it drives her nuts when you leave lights on and you smile as you reach your bedroom door and think it's nice to know that you can live with someone and know everything about her, including every maddening little habit and still actually like her, and if two girls with nothing in comman can live in a tight space with a limited budget and not only not kill each other but actally still like each other, then in a sense, there's hope for the world.
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