While signing my life away last year… I mean, my apartment lease… many things crossed my mind:
1) No more crappy cafeteria food!
2) Yay for bonding! We’ll be all up in each other’s business all the time.
3) We’ll have so much in common – we all have boyfriends!
Now this has become two (sorta) truths and a lie. I went from cafeteria food to massive amounts of frozen food shipped from my loving mother. (What can I say? She refused to let me live on Ramen.) And being all up in each other’s business turned out to be more than I bargained for. Think assigned chores, paying rent, and dealing with cockroaches when we moved in (still makes me shudder!). And as you may have already guessed, the boyfriend and I broke up. So that leaves (put your hands up!) a single, independent woman who apparently makes references to Beyonce songs when she talks about herself.
Yes, I’m single and living with three other girls in relationships.
At first it wasn’t such a big deal, but after welcome week ended and classes began, the boyfriends became frequent fixtures in the apartment. Or maybe I just started noticing then because I was no longer intoxicated… But I digress. Soon I started wondering how I’d deal with their constant presence for the rest of the year. Don’t get me wrong – roommate love abounds in our apartment. I look forward to Project Runway marathons and love notes via whiteboard. And we are proud to say that the rapidly expanding empty bottle collection atop the kitchen cabinets will no doubt qualify for the 8th wonder of the world soon.
But it can get a little frustrating. I can no longer walk around half-dressed while getting ready. I’m not that self-conscious, but having your roommate’s boyfriend right there makes walking around in a towel a bit uncomfortable. And, while I’m definitely not the type of girl to get dolled up every time I’m around some guys, it gets tiresome to have to put on real clothes, brush my hair, and put in the contacts because the boyfs are around (because no matter his relationship status, chances are he has some cute, single friends, right?).
And if I’m playing music and dancing around (not in my underwear like the old days before the boyfriends moved in), I feel compelled to change up my musical selections when the guys arrive since “Party in the USA” apparently doesn’t appeal to the brethren… Who knew?
Being surrounded by couples is a dangerous position to be in. You never know when you’re going to walk in on something “in progress.” In fact, with the overwhelming amount of PDA happening in my living room/kitchen, it’s impossible not to. There is love and kisses and foot rubbing (ew, seriously?) happening everywhere I turn.
But ultimately, my one complaint and biggest pet peeve about my current sitch comes back to the ladies themselves. There is always the ever-present dilemma of who to hang out with: boyfriends, friends/roommates, or both? And somehow I always end up losing out. I distinctly remember being there for these girls while they were lonely and longing for a boy. I recall trying to decipher his ambiguous text messages when they first started dating. And I am now trying to cope with the fact that the next time we will spend real quality time (sans the men) together is when they’re blowing their noses into my shoulder while telling me what a good friend I am because I’m driving us on an emergency ice cream run at 2am the night they get dumped.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy that they’re happy. And I’m also quite happy in my current single-dom. And there are even some bright spots to all this: since my roommates are with their bfs pretty consistently, I can bring friends back to the apartment at wee hours of the morning without worrying about waking anyone up. And since my roommates are way past the dating scene, they always enjoy hearing my exciting, hilarious, or terrible dating escapades.
But I miss my single friends. I miss hearing their stories. I miss having spontaneous impromptu late-night parties with the new dudes we meet at a party. I miss the girls-only morning-after recaps.
The only thing I’m not really missing is my own boyfriend…
[Photo courtesy of moviecritic.com]