I haven't shared a bedroom for about five years. There have been vacations where EGA has slept in my room, and I have had friends sleep over every now and then, but for the most part my bedroom has been my private space since EGA went to college and LCA moved into her old room. Getting a triple has been quite a shock. I've lived with strangers before, at camp and in SCA, but that always felt ephemeral, those living situations all had pretty short shelf-lives. Dorming is different. I could tell myself that it won't last forever, but a year is a long time to sit grinding your teeth because a roommate is clipping her nails on the rug. (Not that my roommates have done that.) I know I'm not easy to live with, I can be messy, I think I might snore, and I shouldn't be trusted to cut people's hair, even though I love to. This past summer, tenting with Basia, I constantly marvelled at her patience with me and my quirks. I hoped my roommates would be equally patient, but learning from my mistakes, I decided to confirm that they had already finished Harry Potter and not offer to trim their bangs, just in case they aren't similarly saint-like and attempt to smother me after I inevitably slip up.
Basia was easy to live with, but I felt confident that I would be able to be patient with my roommates, or at the very least, internalize my rage. I've lived in tents with girls for weeks on end without any horrible issues. There have been flare ups, flip flops have been peed on, but nothing so terrible that I don't think back on them now without smiling. I trust people to be good deep down. I have an open mind in that I don't believe my roommates are actively evil. (Their accents on the other hand, are proof that there is something terribly wrong with the world, especially as they are starting to rub off on me.) It seems like you can be friends with anyone, and living in a tiny space does bring people together. Basia and I would always shower at the same time when we went to Camp Dodge. We would talk and unwind and steal whatever toiletries were left in the shower house. There was a jar or Bert's Bees lemon and poppy seed facewash that we especially loved. There were times in the woods that we would just sit and talk about how nice it was, and how we couldn't wait until we got to use it again. I bought it for college. It smells great, it's really refreshing, and it reminds me of Basia and how nice it was living with her. I use it in the morning as a reminder of how patient and kind she is, and how I should be just as tolerant of my roommates as she was of me. Every morning after I wash my face I put my living situation into perspective. It doesn't matter if people leave their jeans on my bed, they aren't hurting anything by investigating my perfumes and body sprays, and most college students do go out to frat parties, so I shouldn't care if they keep later hours than me. I'm lemony-fresh, and totally willing to accept them as they are. Now I hope they are as forgiving of my early bedtime, giant jade tree and fondness for Thistle and Shamrock.
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4 comments:
You're developing a Long Island accent? Don't you want to take pity on your poor family?
DON'T TALK ABOUT ROOMMATES ONLINE. Dear God, child, have my experiences taught you nothing?
Emily means a LawnG Island accent, I think.
I step up to defend LI, accents and all.
Lovely to have this way of keeping up with your adventures...not to mention monitoring the sage advice from the Laowai.
I am strawng enough to live on lawng island.
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