Roommate Adventures

Yesterday, Sara and I went adventuring–to a historical monument in the big city next to us. I had invited Sarah to come along, but being pre-med, she didn’t care to visit local attractions unless they involved surgical instruments. In fact, she expressed her disdain for our planned activities rather vehemently, where I just ended up shrugging off her attitude and headed out with Sara.

It was actually a pretty fun day of roommate bonding. After taking three forms of public transportation to get to the monument, we were sorely disappointed to find out that tickets were sold out for the day. Instead of dwelling on our misfortune, Sara and I took the opportunity to explore the touristy area that she hadn’t gotten to do before. We ate some greasy local food and hit up all the sweet shops on the block.

After consuming several oversized pieces of taffy, I experienced what it was like to be six-years-old again through a little something known as the “sugar high”. Sara and I giggled like kids all the way home despite having to wait 45 minutes for the bus. All in all it was a pretty good trip, and I really hope that it makes Sara value me more as a friend. It’s times like these that make it okay for to just trust my roommates and consider them my best friends, not only because we live together, but also because we know some significant things about each other–and we can have fun together too.

Competitive Streak

Freshman year, when Sara was in a particularly competitive class, she turned on one of our good friends who she saw as competition. Behind Eliza’s back, my roommate made snide comments about how she didn’t want to study with our floormate because she didn’t want to give Eliza an edge in the course. This attitude really rubbed me the wrong way; perhaps because I’m not as competitive… but also because it was a 400 person course! One person is not going to affect your class standing.

Either way, after seeing Sara’s conniving side last year, I wanted to avoid the same course track. Neither of us had shared our registration with each other until the day before the semester started… and unfortunately, we wound up in the same class. A month into the course, we have a massive reading assignment, except that the book I ordered online still hasn’t arrived yet.

“Hey, Sara, since your discussion is later on in the week, and mine is on Tuesday, could I borrow your book until after my discussion?” I asked her.

“Ummm, maybe your copy will come in the mail today,” Sara replied without meeting my eyes.

“But, erm, haven’t you already done the reading?”

“Yeah, but I think I’m gonna need the book all week.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” I tried to respond nonchalantly.

You’d think that after I went out of my way to buy her an extra copy of another book we had to read last week and giving her my notes from the lecture she missed, Sara would be in a more reciprocative mood. I guess her competitive nature only compounds the one-way relationship we already have going on.

Gross-eries

B.C.E. (Before the Consumption of Everything in sight)

2: number of times a month we bought groceries before Hannah moved in

32: dollars the three of us contribute to the household food supply every two weeks

192: our normal food expenditures per month

Cue Hannah moving in

16: number of days Hannah has lived here

4: number of times Hannah has gone grocery shopping

163: total dollars spent on her shopping trips

40: how much she is charging each of us for “our portion” of the groceries

70: percent of the groceries that Hannah has consumed by herself

518: post-Hannah total food expenditures per month

I don’t know how else to put this, but Hannah’s eating habits are disgusting. It would be more acceptable (to an extent) if she didn’t expect us to fund her obesity.

Don’t get me wrong, our house isn’t full of super thin freaks–we just eat normal portions, and we try to keep the eating-the-frosting-straight-from-the-can to Grey’s Anatomy nights only.

It’s About Time

Jason, Sarah’s hipster crush, decided to ask her out tonight. The boy finally steps up after hooking up with her during finals week last spring, and then leaving her hanging for five months. For some odd reason, I can’t see this is going to go very far. I just don’t trust a guy who thinks it’s okay to call a girl up or to peace out on her whenever he feels like it. As much as I am irritated by Sarah’s habits, she doesn’t deserve to have this guy jerk her around, and I know that that is exactly what is going to happen. Better get the chocolate ready.

Icing on the Cake

After the last cake fiasco, Sarah decided to bake cupcakes this week. I would usually object to her using the kitchen (because she never cleans up after herself, surprise, surprise), but I figured cupcakes = individual portions = I actually get to eat some this time.

After spreading the vanilla icing on top of the moist chocolate cupcakes, Sarah left the tub of icing to hang out on its own–knife sticking out of the opened canister and all. I decided not to clean up after her this time, so I just let the icing sit on the counter for two days, making a mental note not to eat anything else spread with the now dust-infused stuff.

I came home yesterday to find the tub gone. Awesome! The Queen of Laziness has finally learned to pick up her crap! Then I noticed the empty can in the trash can, while Hannah was sitting on the living room couch (exactly where she was when I had left six hours prior)… eyes glazed over at the TV, spooning globs of icing straight from a new tub into her mouth.

I can’t decide if Hannah’s insatiable consumption problem is good or bad for the cleanliness of our apartment….

This is Why I’m a Dog Person

My efforts to be welcoming toward Hannah are beginning to bite me in the ass. The Sara(h)s have made no such effort and therefore have been rewarded by not having to deal with Hannah’s craziness, which is gradually coming out.

Since Sarah is on the pre-med track and has little care for current events in the non-fashion world, she couldn’t give any less when Hannah approached her to rant about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Sarah had just sat at her desk while Hannah talked to her shoulder. I couldn’t believe how patient Sarah had been until afterward when Sarah divulged to me that she was reaching the breaking point when Hannah finally left her alone.

So now Hannah has been coming after me. Earlier this afternoon, she came into my room while I was detoxing after a rough day.

“Roommate! Do you want Facebook this cute guy I met today?” She bounced through my door.

“Um, no, that’s okay,” I responded. “Sounds like your day went well though.”

She took my answer as an invitation to continue the conversation. “How about myspacing a black guy I dated a while back? He’s hot!”

“Maybe another time?” I suggested through my teeth.

“Okay, do you want to see pictures of my cat? He is so smart! He is just like a human being! Sometimes he just comes up to me and scratches at my back… like this–”

And the crazy freak started to claw at my back! What.the.fuck. Who does that?!

So much for trying to be nice to the new girl. Now I know why she couldn’t find anywhere else to live.

You Can’t Have Your Cake and Eat It Too, But Apparently You Can Have Mine

I’ve come to realize that a lot of things I do in my free time serves to maintain my sanity and to keep as far away as possible from the Sara(h)s–working part-time, holding leadership positions in three clubs, hiding out at cafes, and building my culinary skills in the kitchen. My apartment’s kitchen is pretty amazing (by college student standards), and I make good use of it by cooking and baking for my friends and roommates.

Sarah and I had been searching for a glass cake stand to adorn our kitchen counter, and after searching everywhere, we found a great one that doubles as a punch bowl if you flip it upside-down (again, perfect for a college student). We really wanted to bake something to put on it, so on Thursday while everyone was gone, I baked a thick chocolate cake. I carefully placed it on the cake stand to cool, and I contentedly did some work in my room where I could smell its rich aroma.

Then the front door snapped open. Hannah’s heavy footsteps traced the kitchen until she reached the cake stand, and I heard her exclaim excitedly about how good it looked.

“Hey, Roommate, is it okay if I have a piece of the cake?” she called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, go ahead! I was just waiting to ice it, but it should still be good without it,” I called back.

A little while later, I walked out to check on the cake and was shocked–a full 1/4 of the cake was gone! I don’t know who considers 1/4 of a cake to be “a piece”. I didn’t want to confront Hannah after living with her for less than a week, so I just brushed it off. 3/4 of a cake was more than enough for me.

When Sarah got home, she took a little sliver off the cake. “Whoa, this is really good!” she proclaimed happily. No way. Did she just give me a compliment?

After class, work, and back-to-back meetings all day yesterday, I came home to find the cake stand empty, save a bunch of crumbs.

“Hey, Sarah, did you have any more of the cake after last night?” I asked her.

“No, I only had that tiny corner,” she responded earnestly.

I turned to Sara, “Did you get to have any?”

“Nope, I didn’t even see it,” Sara replied.

Just then, Hannah waltzed (I use this term lightly) into the kitchen.

“Oh, Roommate, your cake was so good that I finished it off–hope you don’t mind!” Hannah announced breezily.

What. the. hell. Not only did Hannah eat an entire cake by herself, she didn’t even bother to think about saving me a slice. Maybe she thought she was doing me a favor by leaving the dirty cake stand there so that I could get at the crumbs or something. Bitch.

I’m thinking a potential alliance with Hannah is probably not going to work out. And now I’m fuming.

Update: Fortunately (or unfortunately), I’m not alone–reader Amanda also lives with a Hannah.

Quick Update on the First Day of Class

So far, living with Hannah hasn’t been too bad. I’ve been making a conscious effort to include her in things and to make her feel like a part of our tight-knit (ha, right) apartment.

Hannah asked me to help her pick out clothes for the first day of class, which hopefully means that she trusts me and likes me enough already. I’m excited at the possibility of having an ally in the house, especially since the Sara(h)s haven’t been as pleasantly receptive.

I can see why they haven’t warmed up to her; they probably think she’s beneath them. I’m sure their reasons are perfectly reasonable too–Hannah doesn’t wear Seven jeans, she’s a junior transfer from community college, and she’s a little too overweight to be a hipster.

In my mind, as long as she doesn’t mind me eating bacon or shellfish, she’s all right with me.