Currently I'm living with El Senor. Before El Senor I lived with Redras who---apologies to any of my other former roommates who may be reading this---was my all-time favorite roommate. She wins the prize.
Nevertheless, it's the bad roommate experiences that drive me to choose to avoid roommate situations and live with brothers. Here, for your enjoyment, is a small collection of roommate stories---from heinous to unbelievable to incomprehensible. I apologize if all of the facts are not correct. I'm trying to be as faithful as possible to the facts that I remember.
My Worst Apartment
I moved in with a friend the summer after my sophomore year. There were four of us in the apartment and the space was incredibly cramped. My bedroom had bunk beds and I was on the bottom bunk (the top bunk was very low). Our air conditioning was broken and my roommate refused to sleep with a window open because the noise prevented her from sleeping. So she would sleep directly under the ceiling fan and I would suffocate on the bottom bunk. In addition to that, my roommates were messy. I decided to conduct an experiment one day---see how long I could not wash other people's dishes before someone finally took the initiative to wash the dishes herself. I waited two weeks while dishes piled up (I started eating out every day so that I knew that I was in no way contributing to the mess). After two weeks, there were dishes on every horizontal surface of the kitchen (stove top and fridge top included) and I finally broke down and cleaned them all. I can't even remember how long it took me. The clincher, though, was when my roommate was letting our tiny bedroom get more and more cluttered with her mess. It got to the point that I could hardly walk in my own room and one day, I got to the bedroom and there, in the middle of my messy, messy bedroom floor, was a used tampon applicator. That same day, I started looking for new housing. I moved out about a month later.
Redras's Roommate
Redras once told a story about a bizarre roommate but I can't remember what the story was because at the very end of the story, she flippantly added, "But then she joined the military and got mono and died."
Scoots (and Poops)
This story has nothing to do with scooting or pooping, but you may remember that Scoots and Poops is El Senor's old roommate's nickname. El Senor and Scoots lived together when they were in Provo, but they originally met in the dorms in Rexburg when they were going to school there. Scoots had a sortof odd roommate who could get upset about strange things. One night, El Senor and his roommate could hear Scoots's roommate yelling from across the hall. Soon after, there was a knock on El Senor's door. Scoots was standing there with his mattress tucked under his arm and announced, "I'm moving in!" What was the cause of Scoots's roommate's tantrum? Well, every day, Scoots was the first person to leave the dorm room so he'd run and pick up the mail. But Scoots's roommate wanted the experience of going to the mailbox and discovering what new mail awaited. (Clearly this was grounds for getting angry.)
Twinners
A good friend of mine---we'll call her "Twin"--- is back from her mission and moved to SLC so we've been spending a little time together. Friday night, we were both wearing black shirts and jeans---I asked her if it bothered her that we were wearing similar outfits. She said no, but that it would have bothered an old roommate of hers. She went on to explain that she and this roommate had a similar fashion sense and would often buy the same or similar clothes. One day Twin showed up to class to see that she and her roommate were wearing a similar outfit. She laughed and said, "Look! We're twinners!" She didn't think much more about it. Over the next little while, she and her roommate would occasionally wear similar outfits. Her roommate would get ready and leave the house before they ever saw each other, so if ever their outfits matched, it was purely coincidence. One day, Twin went home to find her roommate and her roommate's boyfriend at home. When the roommate saw her, she noticed that Twin's hair was curly (Twin does her hair curly, wavy, or straight). Her hair was also curly (though a good six inches shorter than Twin's hair). Suddenly she raged out at Twin, accusing her of always copying her. She yelled and screamed while Twin stood dumbfounded. Finally Twin was able to tell her roommate that if it really bothered her that much that they wore similar outfits and similar hairstyles, all they had to do was talk every morning and arrange what they'd be wearing and how they'd be doing their hair. The roommate continued to yell and scream at Twin as she ran to the bathroom and put her head under the faucet. While drenching her hair, drying her hair, and straightening her hair, she continued to yell at Twin.
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And for all those reasons, my friends, I choose to live with brothers whenever possible. But Redras, dear Redras, the offer is always on the table for you to be my roommate.
Start Having a Good Life
Here are my reasons that I am thrilled to be in the Real World now. I wonder why I took so long to graduate---seriously, why was I afraid to move on?
Jeans Friday is better than Team-Spirit Friday. Yes, Team-Spirit Friday in which we were supposed to think that all of us wearing the same shirts was really fun and "special." Jeans are so much more comfortable and special.
Corporate meetings / parties / events: I'm coming from a job where they wouldn't spend money on a roll of double-sided tape for me. Yesterday, I spent the day at a company kick-off meeting where we had about two hours of meetings, two hours of movie-watching, and one hour of catered lunch. And although that only totals five hours, we were paid for eight. And during the meeting, we were provided with free beverages. During lunch, we were provided with, well, lunch. During the movie, we were provided with free popcorn, beverages, candy bars, and peanuts.
My own office, or my own cube, if we really want to be technical. But the point is that it's mine and it has a window. And I'm the only one in the area who has a cube, so it's not like I'm lost in a cube maze. And I get drawers in which to put fat-free fig newtons and I even brought a milk crate in to work that I can leave under my desk and use as a foot stool to put my feet up whenever I want to. This is much different from last summer when I was sitting so close to my coworkers that when they sneezed, I got wet. (No exaggeration.)
Getting paid to work out: I will never get over how cool this is.
Having a name badge that opens doors: It makes me feel so much better than all of you who can't walk in the doors I can walk in.
Employee discounts: 30 percent is a wonderful thing.
Testing merchandize: The company I work for makes handbags and brief cases and totes. The guy who designs them is a real Italian import and his office smells like leather. He has told me to stop by his office and pick up a bag that I can use and give him feedback on. For someone who already has a mild purse fettish, live doesn't get much better.
Flexibility: My previous student job could be very strict on punctuality and schedules. They said that they were preparing us for the Real World. Well, it turns out that the Real World by all accounts is much more flexible. Get in your hours. If that means you show up at 8:00, great. If that means you show up at 9:00, more power to you. Want to eat lunch at your desk and leave early? Go for it.
I love the real world. Love it. I'll love it even more next week when I get my first check. I mean, seriously, they pay me to have this much fun?
Jeans Friday is better than Team-Spirit Friday. Yes, Team-Spirit Friday in which we were supposed to think that all of us wearing the same shirts was really fun and "special." Jeans are so much more comfortable and special.
Corporate meetings / parties / events: I'm coming from a job where they wouldn't spend money on a roll of double-sided tape for me. Yesterday, I spent the day at a company kick-off meeting where we had about two hours of meetings, two hours of movie-watching, and one hour of catered lunch. And although that only totals five hours, we were paid for eight. And during the meeting, we were provided with free beverages. During lunch, we were provided with, well, lunch. During the movie, we were provided with free popcorn, beverages, candy bars, and peanuts.
My own office, or my own cube, if we really want to be technical. But the point is that it's mine and it has a window. And I'm the only one in the area who has a cube, so it's not like I'm lost in a cube maze. And I get drawers in which to put fat-free fig newtons and I even brought a milk crate in to work that I can leave under my desk and use as a foot stool to put my feet up whenever I want to. This is much different from last summer when I was sitting so close to my coworkers that when they sneezed, I got wet. (No exaggeration.)
Getting paid to work out: I will never get over how cool this is.
Having a name badge that opens doors: It makes me feel so much better than all of you who can't walk in the doors I can walk in.
Employee discounts: 30 percent is a wonderful thing.
Testing merchandize: The company I work for makes handbags and brief cases and totes. The guy who designs them is a real Italian import and his office smells like leather. He has told me to stop by his office and pick up a bag that I can use and give him feedback on. For someone who already has a mild purse fettish, live doesn't get much better.
Flexibility: My previous student job could be very strict on punctuality and schedules. They said that they were preparing us for the Real World. Well, it turns out that the Real World by all accounts is much more flexible. Get in your hours. If that means you show up at 8:00, great. If that means you show up at 9:00, more power to you. Want to eat lunch at your desk and leave early? Go for it.
I love the real world. Love it. I'll love it even more next week when I get my first check. I mean, seriously, they pay me to have this much fun?
Sleep Music
Back in high school I worked for a lawyer who one day complained about having troubles sleeping at night. I told her that I had a mixed tape of sleep music and if I was having trouble sleeping, I just put that on and within four songs, I was asleep. She laughed at me and told me that when I was older I would have a lot more to think about at night and much more trouble getting to sleep.
I haven't listened to that cassette tape since high school but recently I was reunited with my high school stereo and decided that it was time to recreate my sleeping mixed tape. Only this time, I made it into a CD. Because I can't remember all the songs on the original CD (beyond the first four), I have had to revamp the mix a little. It's updated now and better than ever. I am pleased to announce that I have yet to stay awake beyond the second song. I guarantee you---the sequencing of the music is key to sleep promotion. Here is my play list, and I recommend it especially to Daltongirl. Oh dearest Daltongirl, your sleeping woes would be so easily cured if you just listened to my sleep mix...
1. When You Dream---Barenaked Ladies
2. I Love You---Sarah McLachlan
3. I Grieve---Peter Gabriel
4. Le ciel dans une chambre---Carla Bruni
5. Change of Season---Matthew Good Band
6. 13 anni---Tiziano Ferro
7. L'encre de tes yeux---Francis Cabrel
8. Fade Out---Radiohead
9. Douglas Mountain---Raffi
10. Chanson triste---Carla Bruni
11. Sing---Blur
Seriously though, don't pay attention to anything past song four because you'll never make it.
(Former sequencing of the first four songs was 1, 2, 5, 3.)
I haven't listened to that cassette tape since high school but recently I was reunited with my high school stereo and decided that it was time to recreate my sleeping mixed tape. Only this time, I made it into a CD. Because I can't remember all the songs on the original CD (beyond the first four), I have had to revamp the mix a little. It's updated now and better than ever. I am pleased to announce that I have yet to stay awake beyond the second song. I guarantee you---the sequencing of the music is key to sleep promotion. Here is my play list, and I recommend it especially to Daltongirl. Oh dearest Daltongirl, your sleeping woes would be so easily cured if you just listened to my sleep mix...
1. When You Dream---Barenaked Ladies
2. I Love You---Sarah McLachlan
3. I Grieve---Peter Gabriel
4. Le ciel dans une chambre---Carla Bruni
5. Change of Season---Matthew Good Band
6. 13 anni---Tiziano Ferro
7. L'encre de tes yeux---Francis Cabrel
8. Fade Out---Radiohead
9. Douglas Mountain---Raffi
10. Chanson triste---Carla Bruni
11. Sing---Blur
Seriously though, don't pay attention to anything past song four because you'll never make it.
(Former sequencing of the first four songs was 1, 2, 5, 3.)
Dignitaries
Here is a picture of me on my last day of work. This picture will have particular meaning to Ambrosia and anyone who ever worked with me who was forbidden to sit in these awful chairs.You see, at my previous place of employment, our company rented space from another company that owned the building. I should be very clear with you that the building (which I have called a cement bunker) is not pretty. It is not a place where you want to bring people. It is not decorated nicely on the inside. It's junky and old. There. I said it. And I'm in no danger of losing my job because of it.
Well, the other company has about five or six hideous turquoise leather chairs in a hallway that I suppose they thought doubled as a reception area. No one is ever received in this area. When Ambrosia and I first started working there, we were informed that the chairs were off-limits to student employees.
Later at a meeting, a supervisor made it clear to everyone that the other company had been complaining about student employees using the chairs. We were not allowed to use them. Period. We were specifically not allowed to sit in them while we waited to leave, sit in them while we talked on cell phones, sit in them to do homework, or sit in them and sleep. Off-limits. The other company said that those seats were there for visiting dignitaries.
Visiting dignitaries. What a joke! None of us had ever seen any visiting dignitaries.
Well, before I left, I had the chance to see visiting dignitaries in our building. There was a small group of Japanese dignitaries who had come to visit. However, they were not using the chair. They were standing in a row by the door and when I approached, they opened the door for me and then bowed as I walked through it.
And I thought, "Hey. I could really get used to this dignitaries thing..."
An Impressive Person
Often it's the small things that people do that make them impressive. Several years ago, I was waiting for my mission call. My papers had gone in and I was expecting my call any day. I'd been told that if you lived on BYU campus, calls generally arrived on Tuesdays, but if you lived off campus (like me) calls arrived on Wednesdays. They were mailed from Salt Lake City on Mondays.
On a Monday I was at work talking with my coworkers about when I might possibly receive my call. I didn't know if it was too soon to expect it. A coworker told me that her mother worked in the MTC mail room and that they had access to the shipping info on mission calls. She could call her mother and find out for me if it was in the mail yet.
She called her mother right away and I listened as she made the call: "Hi Mom. I was wondering if you could check to see if the call for Singing Cicada has been shipped... Yeah... uh-huh... oh, okay... uh-huh. Great. Thanks, Mom." When she got off the phone, she said to me, "Yep, it's been shipped. You'll probably get it on Wednesday."
I was thrilled. In just two days, I'd find out where I was going. As expected, I received my call that Wednesday and was shocked to find out that I'd be going to the Italy, Rome mission (in fact, I had to repeat "Italy, Rome" to my parents on the phone about three or four times before they could understand me).
At work on Thursday, everyone was asking me where I was going on my mission. They too were all shocked and excited (and jealous) to find out where I was going. Later during my shift, my coworker came to me and asked if I'd received my call. I said that I had and when she asked where I was going, I told her. She smiled and said, "Yeah, I knew." I thought she was referring to the fact that she found out from people in the office. But then she explained.
When she was on the phone with her mother---when I was standing right in front of her listening to her half of the conversation---her mother had said, "Yes, her call has been shipped and she's going to the Italy, Rome mission."
I am impressed with this girl's discipline. She could have gotten off the phone and teased me that she knew where I was going and I didn't. She could have let me know that she knew where I was going and offered to tell me. Instead, she respected tradition and recognized the fact that opening my call with my family and finding out where I was going together with them would be a more meaningful experience for me. And not only did she not tell me, she didn't tell other coworkers that she knew where I was going, either. She allowed me to have the full mission call experience. I am still impressed with her and I doubt that I'd have the discipline to act the same way.
On a Monday I was at work talking with my coworkers about when I might possibly receive my call. I didn't know if it was too soon to expect it. A coworker told me that her mother worked in the MTC mail room and that they had access to the shipping info on mission calls. She could call her mother and find out for me if it was in the mail yet.
She called her mother right away and I listened as she made the call: "Hi Mom. I was wondering if you could check to see if the call for Singing Cicada has been shipped... Yeah... uh-huh... oh, okay... uh-huh. Great. Thanks, Mom." When she got off the phone, she said to me, "Yep, it's been shipped. You'll probably get it on Wednesday."
I was thrilled. In just two days, I'd find out where I was going. As expected, I received my call that Wednesday and was shocked to find out that I'd be going to the Italy, Rome mission (in fact, I had to repeat "Italy, Rome" to my parents on the phone about three or four times before they could understand me).
At work on Thursday, everyone was asking me where I was going on my mission. They too were all shocked and excited (and jealous) to find out where I was going. Later during my shift, my coworker came to me and asked if I'd received my call. I said that I had and when she asked where I was going, I told her. She smiled and said, "Yeah, I knew." I thought she was referring to the fact that she found out from people in the office. But then she explained.
When she was on the phone with her mother---when I was standing right in front of her listening to her half of the conversation---her mother had said, "Yes, her call has been shipped and she's going to the Italy, Rome mission."
I am impressed with this girl's discipline. She could have gotten off the phone and teased me that she knew where I was going and I didn't. She could have let me know that she knew where I was going and offered to tell me. Instead, she respected tradition and recognized the fact that opening my call with my family and finding out where I was going together with them would be a more meaningful experience for me. And not only did she not tell me, she didn't tell other coworkers that she knew where I was going, either. She allowed me to have the full mission call experience. I am still impressed with her and I doubt that I'd have the discipline to act the same way.
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