So, I talked about this recently with some friends. I think at Eli’s barbecue, it came up.

Before my freshman year at college, my sister suggested I call my assigned roommate and get to know her a month or so before we moved in together. So I called up my roommate. She seemed nice on the phone, but I am still shy. My sister was standing next to me egging me on. “Ask her what music she likes.” Vicky told me. “What kind of music do you like?” I asked the roomie. “Oh, I like a little bit of everything.” Roomie replies. “Do you like Nine Inch Nails?” “No, I like to keep mine short.” BAM! I knew this roommate and I were not destined to be friends. I don’t remember what else was said after that point, but I do remember how she did not even know who Nine Inch Nails was.

Needless to say, the roommate was friendly enough, but I didn’t get that close to her. I was barely ever in the room anyway because I spent all my time at Clint’s. I think I slept in my loft overnight twice. And one of those times was because Clint’s family was staying with us, so Clint & I escaped to my room so they can sleep in the bed. And by that time, the roommate had moved out, so it was an empty dorm room for the second half of the year.

Since I was barely ever in my room, I can’t hold it against my roommate the one time I was *really* hungover and had limped to the dorm after my morning class to sleep it off. I was up there in my loft buried in the covers when the roommate comes in. She was loud and obnoxious and knocking stuff over. Eventually I turned over, and she was like “OMG! I had no idea you were up there! I’m so sorry!!” I was like, “That’s OK” And buried myself in the covers again. It really wasn’t her fault.