Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get bloggy with it and tell us your horror of horrors--- tell us about your college roommate freshman year. And for those of you lucky enough not to have a funny story... well, bullly for you.
Disclaimer: I was a pretty cranky freshman gal, so I wonder if my memories are colored by chemical imbalance.
On move-in day, in a tiny cell, one of the beds was crooked... out into the foot-wide space between the two beds. Why? Oh, because roomie's mother thought we would have bad feng-shui if we had too many straight lines.
She would change into the same pajamas--sans unders--every night. That's semi weird. Weirder still-- she rolled up the worn unders and put them back in the drawer. Yup. That's right.
She had Renaissance dresses hanging in the closet.
She wore said dress on a bus trip up to Vermont to go to a ye olde Renaissance Faire. She was on the bus all day. She never made it to ye olde Faire.
She woke up at night, coughing so hard she gagged, over and over. She grabbed the phone and said she was calling 911 because of the coughing. I talked her out of it. In the mornin' I told her what happened. She had no recollection.
She cried, because she got her braces off... and she was sad because she didn't recognize herself.
She said the word Dad like this "Dhzad!"
She told her bro on the phone that she couldn't wait to "hug you and squeeze you and hold you and ..."
One night, she went out, as most college kids do. She had one beer. She came home and said, "Well, I can now say I've done the whole 'college drinking thing.' " Wow.
She didn't like the bookshelf she bought-- it was too small. So she bought another, which went on our shared dresser over the mirror. She didn't like that one, so she bought a tall one. Then, she had to move Bookshelf #1 so she could fit #3 in. Bookshelf #1 moved to the side of the bed, in the aforementioned 1 foot spot between the beds... making it more like 6 inches.
Every morning, she (and therefore I) woke up to the lovely voice of Gloria Gaynor singing "I Am What I Am." (What? Do I get no r.e.s.p.e.c.t.?)
Beat that.
5 comments:
i had a roomate who was very nice while our parents were helping us move in. as soon as they left she told me we had a problem because she strongly disliked white people. she used my brush. she left her alarm on after she left the room. and we only roomed together for 3 weeks after that.
Oh, I can definitely beat that. It's going to have to be its own post tho.
That feng-shui crooked beds thing is pretty outlandish.
During my freshman year of college, I woke to the swaying of the bunk beds. I was on top, her on the bottom with a PSU Football player.
I heard moans and strange slurpy/wet noises. Needless to say, I climbed down from the bunk beds and walked out.
I had a roommate who used to wake up in the middle of the night, disrobe, peel oranges, and drink seltzer.
erk- wasn't your roomate's mom white, too? my roomate rocked- she was from the Bronx. She had my back.
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