Monday, December 26, 2011

living with gentlemen. no wait, boys.

i had the pleasure tragedy experience... i lived with boys this past semester.

why? well, because of certain circumstances i had to.

i found a cheap apartment for us... all 5 of us... (4 boys + 1 me = ApPpartment #4). it isn't the nicest of places, but it's in a decent location and it's cheap.

i had decent expectations, i think. i knew it would be dirty. i knew i could get woken up in the middle of the night. i knew the bathroom would probably always be disgusting. i also knew that i would have a pretty good time. boys are less drama, right? and they generally tell you what's up?

well, i was kind of right and kind of wrong.

the good
we really did have fun. in a way that's completely different than girl fun. i laugh with my current girl roommate/best friend, but it's not in the same way. boys are just ridiculous in the stunts they pull. boys do funny things while girls use witty words.

they were great about being straight-up about everything. there was little to no passive aggression, with the 'little' coming from me rather than any one of them. if they had an issue, they told me. if they were excited about something, they told me that too. if i needed relationship advice, they'd give that to me straight too.

it also helped me understand differences between boys and girls. for example, the guys would show me things all the time, have me check things, etc. 'look, raj! isn't this cool.' it was like i was the mom, and they needed approval. chicks don't do this. they look for approval, just not so bluntly.

one of the guys was an ex. weird that this is under 'the good', right? well, no. we had a terrific relationship, that i think got better after moving in. it is possible to have a super positive relationship with an ex, which was really refreshing to discover

we hosted parties... and they were the best parties i've been to while at school.

the bad
one time they blew up Ramen in the microwave (it caught it on fire), which was then put out with our fire extinguisher causing an ashy apartment at 3am. i slept on my windowsill trying to breathe.

they let one of the other guys we know live in our apartment for free. all semester.

i live next to the bathroom, so when you yell, "i gotta take a shit," then do the deed, and don't wash your hands... i know... when you do this everyday, it is almost mandatory that i would notice.

the ugly
did i mention they were all drummers? no? well they were. don't get me wrong. drummers/percussionists are all my friends. seriously. my best friends.  in fact, now that i think about it i have only ever dated drummers. sheesh.

i knew this going in. i knew that there would be constant drumming. i didn't know it would be on the hard side of the drum pad, all hours of the day and night, in the living room. i took 10 classes this semester. like 22 credits. so when i finally get to sleep, i should get to sleep. i earplugged, i listened to music, i slept with a pillow over my head. it worked out ok, i guess.

the dishes, though, were by far my greatest battle. if you dirty a dish, clean it. if you can't clean it now, clean it in a reasonable amount of time, so that others who come behind you can clean their own dishes without a clogged up sink full of dirty dishes... also, so that my really nice pots and pans don't get ruined.

i lost this battle.

when i left, there was a huge under-bed storage container full of dirty dishes... from weeks before thanksgiving. i left mid-December.

next semester, i'm living with my bff, a lady. when she took me out of the apartment to move me into her house, i felt like an woman being rescued from an abusive home. i didn't know i had so much anxiety about it until that moment, when i felt that. it was a huge sigh of relief.

i suppose i can't really blame them. i mean, as it got more and more gross, i stopped hanging out as often, and kept to myself when i was in the house. they resented me for that a bit, i think. i didn't feel welcome anymore. but now that i don't live there, they can't really have any expectations for me... so perhaps i'll bake a cake for them now and again... as long as i can make it in my own clean kitchen with an empty sink.

No comments:

Post a Comment