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Oh Hollywood. With your beautiful lights and big beautiful sign, I
tip my hat and bid you adieu. It was
fun while it lasted, but let’s face it, I’m not a long-term
commitment kind of girl. We had some great times, you and me. But I
think we need to go on a temporary break. So I’ll see you in
September… but don’t call me. I’ll call you.
How I’ll miss people watching from
Starbucks with my friends on a lazy Sunday morning. I’ll especially
miss seeing the older gentlemen wearing a hospital gown, and only a
hospital gown, wandering aimlessly up and down Sunset Boulevard. We
can’t tell if he’s an actor researching a role or if he’s just one
of the many crazies. Either way, I’m surprised he doesn’t have a
rollable IV attached to him—until I realized he probably sold it for
scrap metal up the street.
I won’t be missing the CVS right by
my apartment building. We’ve only seen one hot guy in there…
once out of the four times a week we hit that place up for cheap
water. So Tiffany and I resorted to sneaking up behind him, much
like a cheetah would its prey. But alas, when she was about to make
her move when we noticed him picking up a pregnancy test. Not
wanting to share the spotlight with a potential newborn Tiff at once
moved on to the more promising prospect of a less hot guy carrying a
handle of vodka and some cranberry juice.
"I found myself dangling her toothbrush over the toilet just
aching to drop it and let it marinate." Most of all though, I
won’t be missing my Hollywood roommate. While no roommate is
perfect—I constantly stole Tiffany’s flip flops and left them in
other people’s room and later had to retrieve them in a covert
operation so that it looked like she had left them under the couch—I
was nowhere near the irritation and infuriation level this petite
brunette girl was operating on. As we filled out surveys about our
academic instructor’s efficiency and where improvement could be
offered, my eyes wandered over to my roommate. I wish that colleges
provided surveys on how to upgrade your roommate, and then allowed
you to bitch-slap them with it on the way out.
Just Some Roommate Suggestions in General
1. Don’t Use Your Roommates’ Razors
I cannot emphasize this enough. And if you do use it and get
confronted do not LIE about it! Your roommates are not stupid
people. When the blonde roommate finds brown snatch hair in her
razor and you’re the only one who showered that morning—well, we’re
not CSI investigator-certified but we’re not complete morons either.
Just ‘fess up ‘cause we know it was you.
2. “No Community Food” Means “If You Don’t Buy Groceries for
Yourself You Don’t Fucking Eat”
I don’t know how many times Tiffany and I had to tell her to stop eating our
food. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if she would have just bought groceries
and shared them, but she didn’t. Not once. So we cut her off. We couldn’t have
made it more clear: “Leslie, we’re not sharing our food with you. Don’t eat it.”
Her response: “Okay.” My response: “Okay.” Tiffany’s response: “Okay.” Next day
there’s a big cup of orange juice on the coffee table. It’s pulp-infested which
means it’s not mine. It’s Tiff’s and she has been in class since eight. When
confronted, she begins to say it’s not hers, then quickly recants and says she
needed something to swallow her vitamin with. Tiffany told her to use water next
time. I suggested pouring herself a big glass of anti-freeze.
3. Dye Your Hair Professionally, You’re a Mess
When your roommate dyes your hair, you notice the new hair color. But when
she does her own hair, all you notice is the new hair color... all over the
wall. All over the tub. All over the shower curtain. And even the down throw
blanket. This story is infamous amongst the school, only because she tried to
deny that the hair dye on the blanket was hers. Tiffany and I both get our hair
done professionally at the salon; she chooses to do it out of a box. That’s fine
but don’t use our throw blankets as your smock and then say you didn’t dye your
hair in the room. When the bathroom looks like a chemically-imbalanced Picasso
painting, rest assured we’re going to
call you on your bullshit.
4. Don’t Be Cheap, Just Buy the Toilet Paper
Towards the end of the semester the toilet paper supply had diminished
significantly. Tiff and I would have gone out and bought some, but we were tired
of it and wanted her to contribute to the room in some way, besides redecorating
our bathroom in midnight black splotches deco. So we made arrangements to use
our neighbor’s facilities to see how she would handle the toilet paperless
situation. Ten minutes later when I asked what she used, she told me she didn’t
go to the bathroom that morning. I just looked at her underpants lying on the
floor and thought, “Well, that solves that gross mystery.”
5. When Indoors, Please Use Your Inside Voice
No one cares that you saw Eric McCormack. No one. I promise. I saw Brad Pitt
at a stoplight in his Range Rover and never told anyone—you know why? Because a
celebrity story should start with the words, “Guess who I fucked?” and not,
“Guess who I saw at the movie matinee with his Canadian family?”
6. Only 2-Year-Olds are Allowed to Smack Their Lips While Eating
Seriously. You woke me up in the morning at least twenty times eating cereal
and smacking your food and lips like a small toddler.
Smack smack smack. Smack smack smack. Slurp. Smack smack smack. Smack.
Enough already! Who taught you how to chew? A dairy cow?
7. Please Wipe Your Bum… Or Stop Leaving Your Dirty Thongs in Plain
Sight
The bathroom floor became a natural home for our pajama wear. It accumulated
over the week. Along with everyone’s sweatpants and oversized t-shirts came the
frequent thong that caused me to gag temporarily. Accidents happen, but when
your roommates have to pick up your dirty ass panties with a plastic fork and
then propel them on to your bed for you to get the hint to stick them in a
hamper, you know it’s time to change your hygiene routine. There were times when
I found myself
dangling her toothbrush over the toilet just aching to drop it in there and
let it marinate in there for a few hours. The only thing that stopped me was my
strong belief in karma, and even that took some serious convincing.
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