am i right or am i right?

I'm a copycat. I warned you in my blog description above. 

I do everything my friends do.

Yes, if they were jumping off a bridge...I'd probably want to join.

Although their regular influence usually involves me giving into going to Tin Roof at inappropriate times...

So that's my disclaimer to this post.

Today I want to talk about roommates.

J recently wrote an article for this super cool website about living with people.

I haven't read it yet but so far her writing has been extremely clever and brutally honest so I'm sure this piece will not disappoint. Especially considering she has plenty of hellish, hilarious, and insane material to work with...

And so do I.

Some of our experiences overlap.

Some do not.

I will outline the ones that J didn't experience or won't mention.

(So make sure to read her article too)

I personally have run the gamut on roommate experiences.

From sober Sally to desperate wannabe to completely and perfectly normal to definition of psycho to disgusting and dysfuntional...and everywhere in between.

I mean, you enroll in college and you've heard all of the pros and cons from "It'll be the best 4 years of your life" to "You don't know what an all-nighter means until your first exam week" to "Don't live with a friend, live with a random" to "Get involved right away or your screwed" to "Don't live on North Campus" to "Try to stay 5 years" to "You gotta join ___ sorority" and if you're me...you just wanna get there and try to forget as much of high school as possible.

ALSO if you're me...you choose not to live with your very best friend because you both know you'd kill each other. 

So you live with a good friend instead.

MISTAKE numero uno.

The risk of living with a random is worth it.

You should not live with a friend. Ever.

I have the most love and respect for this girl now.

She has her life together more than I do...to say the least.

But at the time...oh sweet mama jamma.

Let's roll out our first stereotype of roommates.

The I-Have-A-Boyfriend-Who-Doesn't-Go-Here-And-I'm-Picking-Out-A-Ring-But-We're-Never-Gonna-Make-It girl.

There are 34,921 of these freshmen girls at every college. 

They talk to their boyfriend for hours every night.

And sometimes they just put each other on speaker phone while they watch tv or listen to each other fall asleep.

They make him visit every weekend.

And they barely leave the room.

Even when you're trying to get dressed in a 6X8 room after your shower.

They can't even take their Mr. Snuggly Buggly Bear to the cafeteria for 30 minutes while you try to get ready to go out because you have a life.

They make your dorm smell like body odor and inexperienced sex.

They let him eat all of your food.

Including your strategically hidden beer & vodka.

They tell you to be quiet when your drunk ass comes in at 3 a.m. after one of the best nights of your life.

They live like a slob because they're so preoccupied with planning their never-gonna-happen wedding.

They pretend to care more about school than you do as an excuse as to why they haven't made any friends. But really it's because they're always reminiscing with their baby/boo/hunny about high school memories and how the distance between them is torture.
They are the most jealous person on the earth.
And their boyfriend, in turn, is the most controlling person on the earth.
If they're not cooing to their loser boyfriend...they're having a massive fight about nothing.
And your ears are trained to tune a lot of stuff out...but the sound of her voice going in and out of bitch mode alternated with sobbing/pitiful mode is not something any human can ignore.
Like a baby cow being sucked down a garbage disposal.

They royally try to suck the life out of your freshmen year and if you're not careful...it might just work.

Ya feel me?

Way too many girls are like this at 18 years old.

Needless to say, they broke up.

My advice...live with a random for the love of all things holy.

Even if she's from the back woods of Kentucky or a hole in the ground in Germany, you can always use your experience as a "real world application" for your Anthropology class and chalk it up to "a weird year" instead of "the year my friend proved to me that she puts the lewd in ludicrous."

So you survive your year in the dorms. And then you make a plan with some friends to live in an apartment or a house or whatever overpriced P.O.S. place you can find.

Or...if you're me...

There are very very few options that are in Mom and Dad's price range.

So you choose the apartment complex with the workout room and the pool.

Naturally.

And they only have 4-bedroom units.

Well, you have 2 people you really want to live with.

So that makes 3 of you.

Shit.

Everyone else has either transferred back home.

Or is moving into their sorority house.

Or is a few notches too crazy to actually live with.

So you pick an acquaintance's girlfriend.

She seems clean.

She goes to church.

She's a good egg, right?

Oh yeah.

She's the Too-Sober-Too-Pure-Too-Perfect-Judgy-Wudgy-Was-A-Bear roommate.

She doesn't like you to drink either.

Again?

But not 'cause she's jealous and friendless.

Because she thinks you're an alcoholic and will probably burn in Hell.

Well at least you have 4 bedrooms so everyone has their own space.

And it's really not that bad.

And your new college best friend is there to ease the pain. And she's normal and hilarious.

So it's survivable.

But then your other roommate, a high school friend that has remained a friend because you didn't live together...gets her nipples pierced and starts dating an old man from your hometown and decides she's transferring home after the Fall semester.

Shit 2.0

So...

the Too-Sober-Too-Pure-Too-Perfect-Judgy-Wudgy-Was-A-Bear roommate brings in the Too-Sober-Too-Pure-Too-Perfect-Judgy-Wudgy-Was-A-Bear best friend to take your high school buddy's spot.

So now you've got 2 normal college kids who like to drink a little and kiss their boyfriends but still get their shit done...living with 2 Articles of God's Perfection.

Shit 3.0

And I'll be honest...it was fine.

But when we stole an old door out of the dumpster to make a beer pong table or had a cookout with my sorority sisters or came back after football tailgates or had Tequila Tuesday...you could cut the tension in that tiny apartment with a knife.

Keep it simple.

Live with people exactly like you.

I was going to include my experiences with my favorite roomies but this is getting long so...you know who you are. And I still love you. Way to be perfect :)

Lastly, this experience is actually borrowed.

This girl lived in the sorority house with us.

But not in my room.

Me and J's room was pure excellence.

This little gem earned the nickname "Karen" and she lived with one of our best friends.

You know "Karen" right?

As in, Dane Cook comedy.

As in, "Karen, the friend that nobody likes"

Or in this case...the roommate that nobody likes.

And again, in this chick's defense...she has a group of friends now who love her dearly and I'm sure she's a lot different than she was as a sophomore.

But, flattery is not the point of this story.

Karen, the roommate that nobody could like...

She's pretty. She's popular with the boys. She likes to go out. She's a girly girl. She loves the sorority.

But, she's self-absorbed.

Not the brightest crayon in the box.

Had just a little too much hairspray go to the brain.

And has the attention span of a 3 month old.

And did I mention she's self-absorbed?

You know the color and size of her junior year prom dress.

But she has no idea what town you grew up in and quite possibly doesn't know your last name.

Poor poor person that lives with her.

It's hard enough being her friend.

Let alone sharing a closet, television, floor space, and bedroom...

Maybe the moral of the story is that after about age 12...it's just not fun to share a room with anyone.

Thankfully almost everyone has to go through these trials in college and eventually you gain the wisdom and talent of telling a great roommate from a total wreck.

And it makes for a good story to tell the kids.

Or in this case...the 4 people that read your blog...