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Living & Learning
Aug. 16th, 2004 02:21 pmMy freshman year in college, I lived in the dorms and had a roommate from Birmingham, Alabama [who could imitate a half-dozen distinct local accents; really cool]. This gal was 5'9" and of Swedish descent [i.e., stocky], so, when she decided to set the alarm for 5:30 every morning so she could blow her hair dry, as well as having all the lights on & moving around, I was in no position to argue.
I never got that. I can be rude and even crass on occasion, but have never gotten up at 5:30 and made *everyone* share the experience. Even at cons, when I might be coming late from filking, I lay the sleepwear out in a corner of the bathroom & change there, so as not to make a disturbance.
Other gals on the floor used to say we never did anything together, because our schedules were so divergent. I used to reply that we took great naps together almost every afternoon. ;(
I got reminded of her this morning by the cat. She can't turn on the light [or the non-existent blow-dryer, for that matter], but she likes to run in and out [especially after Himself has gotten up, to open the door to a maximum of light, noise, & spouse-stomping] and do the litterbox lambada. I'm talking, that cat scratches more than all the chicks in hornedhopper's henhouse. It's all Lewis Carroll: "She only does it to annoy, because she knows it teases."
Then, when everyone else has to be pulled off the ceiling, she saunters in and settles down for a long day's nap, on the bed right next to me. Of course, it could be said that such overweening arrogance is her own downfall, since, every few minutes for hours, right when she's all rolled up like a cat-donut, I pet her and wake her up [just 'cause I'm evil like that ;)].
My sophomore year, I found an apartment with a friend. Unfortunately, albeit with three bedrooms, the apartment was very small. We had six gals *and* their guys and only *one* refrigerator. There was no place to go to escape the couples, least of all my own room. I didn't know someone as short as I am could *get* that claustrophic. Let's just say, I took lots of walks that year.
The next two years I spent in a red brick house with two huge picture windows in the corner of the large living-room. Sure, there were five bedrooms holding a total of nine women [including me], but the kitchen was enormous and had *three* fridges. Nine women and three fridges; the odds were greatly improved. Besides, the house was so large [and light--albeit cold--with all the windows], there was always someplace to go to avoid the couples. The house was between two grocery stores [5 blocks one way, & 9 the other] and within a mile of the library downtown, on the way to which I always stopped by the Zesto's, for the best shakes in town, especially in the wintertime. [Well, the best shakes in Atlanta, anyway; what a Zesto's was doing in Provo, Utah, I never found out.]
Now I live in a small, red brick house, with a medium-sized livingroom. There's only one picture window, an almost-bay window on the front of the house. There's also only one fridge, but what with one gal, her guy, and their cat, the odds are definitely *much* improved.
So, I finally have my own place, and the other people I hear are by choice. And, most of the time, the only other person I hear squishes very pleasantly--or has claws that are fairly easily dodged. :)
I never got that. I can be rude and even crass on occasion, but have never gotten up at 5:30 and made *everyone* share the experience. Even at cons, when I might be coming late from filking, I lay the sleepwear out in a corner of the bathroom & change there, so as not to make a disturbance.
Other gals on the floor used to say we never did anything together, because our schedules were so divergent. I used to reply that we took great naps together almost every afternoon. ;(
I got reminded of her this morning by the cat. She can't turn on the light [or the non-existent blow-dryer, for that matter], but she likes to run in and out [especially after Himself has gotten up, to open the door to a maximum of light, noise, & spouse-stomping] and do the litterbox lambada. I'm talking, that cat scratches more than all the chicks in hornedhopper's henhouse. It's all Lewis Carroll: "She only does it to annoy, because she knows it teases."
Then, when everyone else has to be pulled off the ceiling, she saunters in and settles down for a long day's nap, on the bed right next to me. Of course, it could be said that such overweening arrogance is her own downfall, since, every few minutes for hours, right when she's all rolled up like a cat-donut, I pet her and wake her up [just 'cause I'm evil like that ;)].
My sophomore year, I found an apartment with a friend. Unfortunately, albeit with three bedrooms, the apartment was very small. We had six gals *and* their guys and only *one* refrigerator. There was no place to go to escape the couples, least of all my own room. I didn't know someone as short as I am could *get* that claustrophic. Let's just say, I took lots of walks that year.
The next two years I spent in a red brick house with two huge picture windows in the corner of the large living-room. Sure, there were five bedrooms holding a total of nine women [including me], but the kitchen was enormous and had *three* fridges. Nine women and three fridges; the odds were greatly improved. Besides, the house was so large [and light--albeit cold--with all the windows], there was always someplace to go to avoid the couples. The house was between two grocery stores [5 blocks one way, & 9 the other] and within a mile of the library downtown, on the way to which I always stopped by the Zesto's, for the best shakes in town, especially in the wintertime. [Well, the best shakes in Atlanta, anyway; what a Zesto's was doing in Provo, Utah, I never found out.]
Now I live in a small, red brick house, with a medium-sized livingroom. There's only one picture window, an almost-bay window on the front of the house. There's also only one fridge, but what with one gal, her guy, and their cat, the odds are definitely *much* improved.
So, I finally have my own place, and the other people I hear are by choice. And, most of the time, the only other person I hear squishes very pleasantly--or has claws that are fairly easily dodged. :)
