Heroes & Villains

This weekend my roommates and I threw a Heroes & Villains themed party. It was a ton of fun moving all the furniture around, setting up drinks, and making a guest list. We all came up with really cute costumes and made sure that our guests came dressed up as well. With the typical iPod hooked up to a college student’s stereo system, we provided an awesome dance floor in the living room with easy access to red plastic cups  in the kitchen.

Unfortunately, after about 50 people showed up to our small place and overflowed into the yard, some neighbor called the police and our party was shut down barely after 1 AM. No one wanted to be around a busted party, so the crowd thinned out save our closer friends.

My group of friends and I were just hanging out in the kitchen when I heard someone retch on the other side. I turned around to see Sarah’s friend Paul heaving over our extra large trash bin, throwing up the extra shots Alan had convinced him to take.

“Hey, guys, why don’t you go hang out in the living room while I take care of him?” I suggested to the friends I had been chatting with.

I turned to Paul, “Let me get you some water, hon.”

Sarah walked into the kitchen with Jason (what the hell the kid was doing here after breaking up with her is another story) and asked rather rhetorically, “Are you okay, Paul?”

When he was unable to answer, she put a semi-sympathetic look on her face but correctly assessed the situation–someone else was handling it–so she left. 30 minutes later, Paul was only able to sit up with Alan’s support but still couldn’t open his eyes fully.

“Paul, you shouldn’t walk home tonight. I’m sure you can stay on our futon,” I offered. Victoria’s friend had donated a futon to our house, but it didn’t fit anywhere except Sarah’s over-sized room so we left it there for her to throw her massive warddrobe on.

“Sarah, would it be cool if Paul stayed on the futon in your room tonight? I don’t think he is okay to walk home….”

“Um, actually, Jason is going to stay over tonight so…” Sarah hesitated.

“What? Jason can stay over tomorrow night, can’t he? Paul is your friend and he can’t get home!”

“I’m sure he’s fine. He just needs to sober up some more,” she said dismissively.

” I know you want Jason to sleep here tonight but I think Paul needs it more. Otherwise I guess we can put him out on the couch,” I tried to convince her again.

“Yeah, put him on the couch or something,” Sarah huffed. “Well, if you don’t need anything, I’m going to bed.” She turned around and went into her room with Jason.

I couldn’t believe it. Paul is Sarah’s friend. Jason broke up with Sarah and is now back for booty. And she picked that little shit over her friend? Glad to know where her loyalties lie.

The Evidence Says I’m the Best Dinner Date Ever

I had been raving about the desserts and live jazz at a French cafe in the city for some time, and I had really wanted to take the Sara(h)s because they both are francophiles. This week, Sarah couldn’t make it for some reason (probably hanging out with her crappy non-boyfriend Jason) so Sara and I went by ourselves.

Of course, Sarah flipped out over the fact that we had decided to go without her. I’m sure that meant that she loved going out to dinner alone with me a few days prior so much because I’m the best date ever, not that she’s self-centered and believes no one should be allowed to go anywhere without her… right?

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.

Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t

While Sara has been in DC, we’ve been exchanging lengthy emails every few days. This is a continuation of the tradition from last summer, when Sara was in Europe and Sarah went to visit friends out of state. We tried to keep each other updated with our lives through emails at least five paragraphs long. I always read through the whole thing in parts during my breaks at work, and several times over while I’m writing an equally lengthy response.

Just recently, Sara found out that one of her best friends, Amy, only skims these long emails. I can see why she would since they are so incredibly long. Needless to say, if you’re not giving Sara your complete and undivided attention, she flips out.

“Unlike with you and Sarah, with Amy and Evan I have to initiate contact. If I didn’t send them one email, then we wouldn’t have talked at all this whole summer. It really upsets me because I spend more than an hour writing emails to each of you. If Amy is just going to skim them and give me brief responses, then I’m wasting my time!”

“Maybe she meant she skims them the first time around and goes back when she has more time,” I tried to reassure her.

“She keeps asking me about what’s going on and yet she doesn’t even read my responses! She can get over it and email me if she wants to know anything!” Sara fumed.

Huh. Funny how her two best friends aside from Sarah can’t take the time to care about all the details of her life, but she has no problem complaining about how I ask her too many questions–even after acknowledging that I am one of the two people who take the time to respond to all her whining about life in DC.

I love how she expects people to find the exact happy medium to that satisfies her.

Never Good Enough

My efforts to stay in touch with Sara have completely failed, as I found out while Sarah was jabbering away on the phone yesterday.

“So have you been talking to Roommate a lot?” Sarah asked.

I couldn’t hear Sara’s responses, but I could guess what she said from Sarah’s side of the conversation.

“What kind of excuse is ‘I don’t want to bother you at work or interrupt going out with your friends’?” Sarah scoffed.

Wait a minute. When Sara first arrived in D.C. for her internship, she confided to me that she didn’t like her roommates and that she was afraid that she wouldn’t meet anyone cool over there. So I encouraged her to be more confident, to give her roommates a chance, and to go out with them/other interns.

“I can’t believe you and Roommate never talk! …. I know, it does sound like she doesn’t even care.”

So after Sara took my advice, she’s complaining that I don’t want to call while she’s out with her new friends? Typical.

“Wow, she asks you 10 questions about is what your living situation is like? …. God, you’re right. That’s so annoying!”

…. Let me get this straight. You want me to be interested in your life. All right, done. But now you don’t want to answer questions that I ask out of interest in your life?

Nothing I do for these bitches is ever good enough.

Two Beds are Better Than One

When Sara told us that she was accepted to an internship program in D.C., all of us were supposed to find a subletter for the summer so that she wouldn’t have to pay rent while not living here. Of course no one else stepped up to the task, so at the last minute I scooped up a lovely girl to take Sara’s place. Jules was in a school organization with me this past year, and from that I know that she is sweet, responsible, and (best of all) neat. Our landlord is a huge stickler for paperwork and contracts, so I made sure that everything was filled out and submitted to her lawyers properly. Although Sara was the one that should have taken care of everything to save herself the rent money, she didn’t lift a single finger except to cram some of her things under her bed so that Jules would have some space during the summer.

Since Sara and I are currently sharing the double room and Victoria and Sarah are each in a single room, Jules has moved into Sara’s place as my roommate. Sarah took this personally, as I found out when I heard her ranting to Rob during one of their cigarette sessions on the porch.

“I guess Roommate must really dislike living with me because she gave up a single room,” Sarah griped.

“What do you mean she gave up a single?” Rob asked.

“Technically it’s my turn to take the double room and her turn to take over a single, but she voluntarily stayed in the double… she must really hate living with me,” she complained angrily.

Obviously we all make decisions based on the fact that the world revolves around Sarah. Of course she doesn’t consider the fact that Jules has no furniture of her own and it only makes sense for her to take over Sara’s place in the double. Of course she doesn’t think about the inconvenience of swapping rooms with Sara only to move back again at the end of the summer. Of course she doesn’t realize that she is a complete nightmare to live with and there is no way I’d want to put up with her attitude and slobbiness in my room.

“Um, aren’t Roommate and Jules friends?” Rob pointed out.

“Yeah, they know each other from some club, so it’s cool that they’re living together. Plus I get to stay in the single for three extra months,” Sarah said nonchalantly.

… So why the hell did she have to bitch about it in the first place?!

If I Were Them, I’d Run in the Other Direction

Since both Sara and Sarah are from out of state, they have to pay a much higher tuition than us in-state kids do. The amount they pay is almost equal to a private school tuition, which sucks. Sarah’s parents decided to remedy the situation by picking up their family and moving over here in order to be closer to her and to get in-state residency. Which makes perfect sense, if you’d rather pay twice as much for a smaller house (thank you, housing bubble) in order to save a couple thousand on tuition for such a short amount of time… which leads me to believe that the latter reason is less important than the former.

Either way, Sarah is upset that her family wants to move their lives to be closer to her.

She doesn’t care that her younger sister is being plucked out of her high school circle and having to find a new place to fit in.

She doesn’t care that her parents have to find new jobs.

She doesn’t care that her father is making four drives between several states in order to move all their things over.

She’s pissed off that she won’t get to go back home during breaks, and that she is no longer going to live in a huge house with sprawling land. The poor girl has to put up with a smaller bedroom and a smaller backyard.

It has been a month since she found out about the move, and Sarah has not stopped complaining about how much she is suffering from having to move… when she is not actually helping her family to pack or drive over or any of it. Well, thank goodness she has something legitimate to whine about this time.

It’s the Thought That Counts… Right?

My roommates and I have been getting along lately (thus the lack of posts, sorry). We’ve been connecting over our similar struggles and the pressures/expectations that we face from our family.

I really felt like we were bonding and getting closer, especially when Sara and Sarah surprised me with presents on my birthday. I didn’t expect any show of kindness from them, so I was pretty stoked that they cared to do anything for me at all.

Sara presented me with a white cardigan, and Sarah gave me a pair of flip flops with strawberries on them. Since I was expecting something along the lines of a plastic spork or a paper clip, the fact that these were both items I had wanted made me rethink my opinion that the Sara(h)s were completely thoughtless jerks. Maybe they really had noticed that I didn’t have much warm clothing (all my clothes equal about 1/4 of each of their wardrobes) and that I like strawberries (baby steps!).

“I’m so glad you like the cardigan!” Sara exclaimed happily.

“Yeah, I do. Thank you so much! How did you know I needed one?” I meant it as a rhetorical question.

“Oh, it was easy. I just went through your computer and found your list of things you’re saving money for,” she responded nonchalantly.

She snooped through my computer?! So much for having any privacy. I didn’t know how to react, but (un)fortunately, I was saved from having to deal with Sara’s obvious intrusion by Sarah calling attention to her gift.

“Um, Roommate, can you wear these flip flops tomorrow? I need you to wear them first so I can borrow them afterward.”

Thank you, Sarah. Thank you for reminding me that you are, in fact, selfish and tactless.