After our recent post about choosing to live in the same dorm as your significant other, I thought I’d bring up a similar topic I’m struggling with: should you start a relationship with a roommate?
My current financial situation means I had to make a few compromises when looking for a new apartment. First off, I had to move to a shady neighborhood. And not just a put-away-your-ipod kind of neighborhood, but a maybe-you-should-carry-pepper-spray-and-also-possibly-a-knife kind of place. Secondly, I moved in with three boys.
Yes, I know, I’m living in a glorified frat house: Scarface posters on the wall, 2 years worth of grime in the tub (so much for a relaxing post-work soak) and a fridge full of beer and moldy food. When I arrived to take a look around and put down my deposit, however, I soon realized that these were the least of my problems; one of my roommates is cute. Read More »
Every once in a while I’ll be walking down Second Avenue and see a guy with a cat on his head and think, damn! Why don’t I have something to record this with?! Or I’ll be home after a night on the town and catch my roommate spouting off some of the best drunk philosophy ever and wish there was a way to capture her wisdom.
But being the poor individual that I am, I can’t even afford a digital camera, and the tiny, no sound video application on my phone takes such a long time to start working that whatever I wanted to record is gone and over by the time I’m ready.
And what about those of you about to go abroad? Don’t you wish you had something to capture the exotic sights and sounds with that didn’t cost an entire semester’s tuition to buy?
Well, I think I might have found something that could help us all.
The Flip Video camera is a pocket sized digital camera that comes with a built in USB port and it’s own simple editing software—all for less than about what it would cost you to buy a new outfit. Read More »
“Grace? Are you listening? I’ve been screaming your name for like 5 minutes.”
Stacey’s reflection stared at me from the mirror, her eyes heavy with pink glitter. Her whole body was heavy with pink glitter, actually. If I didn’t know any better, I would think my roommate was dressing up as one of those marshmallow birds that take over drugstores in the Spring. Peeps. That’s what they were called, and that’s exactly what Stacey looked like.
“Sorry, I was reading.” Pulling my scarf tighter around my neck, I leaned back in my chair and gave Stacey my full attention. She’d never shut up if I didn’t. “What are you supposed to be again?”
“I’m Jem. Isn’t it obvious? This hair is great, huh?” Straightening a short fuchsia wig on her head, Stacey looked back into her own eyes.
“Oh. Jem. 80’s cartoon. I get it.” I closed my history book and rubbed my face. The words had been jumbling together for the last 30 minutes. I couldn’t concentrate.
“Aren’t you coming out tonight?” Stacey popped her pink gum and applied more pink blush. “You can’t spend Halloween inside, Grace.”
“Rebecca and I might walk around for a little while later.”
“Rebecca?” Stacey’s expression went sour. “How can you stand to hang out with that girl? She’s so weird.”
I remember the day Britney and K-Fed filed for divorce.
I remember it being a shocking revelation that the two trainwrecks were parting, leaving two little mistakes in their wake.
I also remember placing bets on how long it would be before Kevin wouldn’t be able to come near Brit-Brit’s babies. I was so confident that it wouldn’t take a month, that I made a bet with my roommate at the time. K-Fed was a grungy, skeezy, pot-head dancer…there’s no way he could be a decent father! Right?
Well, my roommate won that bet, my friends, and I need to officially pay up starting today.
Britney Spears has lost custody of her kids. According to TMZ, “L.A. County Superior Court Judge Scott Gordon issued an order today, stating that Kevin Federline, the boys’ father, “is to retain physical custody of the minor children on Wednesday, October 3, 2007 at 12:00 PM until further order of the court.”"
It’s about time. Britney is a drug addict. Plain and simple.
She likes the attention. She likes the pictures. She wants us to see her looking like a heap of garbage. Call her masochistic but she wants this for herself. She’s “troubled” y’all and its completely disgusting.
If this is what drugs do to you, physically and mentally, I am counting my lucky stars I never got mixed up in them.
Hats off to Kevin Federline for coming off sane and grounded. Maybe I’m wrong, but I just can’t hate a man who can…I don’t know…handle himself?
Britney, your looks are gone. Your marriage is gone. Your kids are gone.
I bet your roommate sucks. Don’t worry, I understand. I have a twin sister and therefore have had to share living quarters with another girl for my entire life.
It’s cool and all when you’re six years old, and sharing space meant sharing Barbies, but once you hit 18 and it’s time for college…you’re probably going to want your roommate out during playtime.
You’ve probably already set up your dorm room, but there’s always a chance it could be set up better,with more of your own space, and with something we all desperately need.
No f*cking drama.
First things first:
No bunk beds. I know, I know, they save space and all that, but top bunk is only cool at summer camp. Plus with your roommate’s bed literally attached to yours you might as well be attached at the hip too. And can I just remind everyone that there’s nothing sexy (or mysterious) about climbing into a top bunk with a guy you’re hoping to bone.
She won’t look at pictures of him, runs from the room if he happens to come on TV, and refuses to even say his name.
She won’t explain her fear, just whisperes that “him and a ventriloquist doll are two the scariest things you could ever see at the foot of your bed in the middle of the night.”
While my phobia is not as rampart as hers, I completely understand the fear.
The dude was weird looking even before he started on the ‘roids, but now that he’s jacked, he barely resembles a human.
Something is seriously wrong with his face, but it’s hard to tell what.
Did he get weird plastic surgery? Did the steroids melt his features a little?
Is he transitioning into a giant, muscular woman?
I hear he’s big in Vegas, which can only mean one of two things; A) people who are drunk and have lost all their money to slot machines go see him in an attempt to put themselves out of their misery, or B) they like freaks. Read More »
Stacy’s voice was too loud for the library, and much too loud for my ears. Plunking herself down at our table, she made sure that she was sitting opposite Sasha, and leaning close enough to almost touch his forehead with hers.
After bumping into him in the dining hall, I had somehow miraculously started a conversation about Chemistry—the class we had together—and mentioned that I was headed to the library to study for the chapter quiz. I was just going to do the same thing, he said, smiling in a way that made me feel like I was having a mini heart attack. Wanna study together?
I knew full well studying with Sasha meant studying his face, not our notes, but in the scope of life, I figured one failed quiz was worth a few hours next to the cutest boy I had ever seen. Read More »
Every once in a while I’ll be walking down Second Avenue and see a 
Days as a Freshman: 71
My roommate is scared shitless by Carrot Top.
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