Sunday, July 27, 2008

Bowl Full of Cherries?

Mind the Pits.

For three years I've lived in a shared house on Belmont nicknamed Mouse House (mostly a sentimental title). Today Mouse House picked a new roommate. How this will end is anyone’s guess, but last night a non-resident remarked on the funny roommate stories that have come out of Mouse House in the last few years. Other friends have suggested that "if I didn't know you I'd think you were exaggerating." I wish. Not-quite-funny-to-me-yet are the following housemates. Some highlights:

A) The roommate who screamed when I cleaned and slammed doors so heavily that the house shook to its core. It’s rumored she even showered noisily. She blamed it on her spatial sensory disability. She wore giant owl-eyed sunglasses when it rained (due to her hipster fashion, not spatial, disability). Twenty-four years old, her parents still drove 30 minutes to picked her up and drive her to work each day. Now in an MFA program at an undisclosed location.

B) The hippie 23-year-old roommate-turned-lesbian, J-. Adopted – er, I mean dated – a homeless jobless 40+ year old butch named Y- who moved in (uninvited) with her unstable pit bull Athena (yup, after the Goddess of Wisdom). They enjoyed loud sex (J & Y, that is). Often while I was in the kitchen making dinner. As for the things we could expect at 3 A.M.: Marathon sessions of Zena: Warrior Princess and/or Wicca drumming circles and/or more loud sex.

Ah, well. Wish us luck with this one.


Anonymous said...

Oh my... good luck! The third roomie's a charm, right? I live alone. More expensive, but less drama. It's a tradeoff. Are those cherries floating in a pool full of water? Have a happy Monday!

janb said...