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Krista's question of the week...
Krista's question of the week has to do with roommate horror stories. I don't really have anything to share. My roommate-experiences at Albion have been quite positive.
Freshman year I was matched up with Stephanie. We don't see much of each other anymore but I think we worked quite well when we were living together. At the beginning, it was quite strange, because we kept finding new things that we had in common - from the language major (Spanish for her, French for me) to the fact that we had the same towels. But anyway, we lived in peace and happiness and were friends rather than people forced to sleep in the same room by the Evil Whims of Residential Life.
When it came time to pick a roommate for sophomore year, Stephanie was no longer available (for one reason then another, but we won't go into that) so I ended up in a situation that never in my wildest imagination would I have thought of a year earlier: living with Roommate. Well, maybe a year, but not two. I started warming up to her once I found out she was going to Albion. Point is, Roommate and I went to high school together and had friends in common, but were not exactly happy friendy-friends. Hmm. But once we were at Albion and needed familiar faces to eat dinner with, things worked out. Worked out enough that our friendship and discovered appliance-compatibility (I had the fridge and TV, she had the VCR, microwave, etc.) brought us together as camarades de chambre. That and the fact that she has a kick-ass Hot Pot. That is the whole reason we live together, but don't tell her.
So sophomore year we lived together in Spanish House first semester, then 'moved on up' to the Bowling Alley of German House. Mmmm: closet space and a/c. Not so mmmm: diagonal ceiling and ladybug-leaking a/c. We are friends enough to get along and have a good time in our room, but not too friends (since when is friends an adjective?) to fight. I know her well enough to know how hedgehog-like she is - prickly on the outside, but warm and cuddly and poetic on the inside. I bet you didn't know hedgehogs wrote poetry!
Junior year I was gone all year and Roommate missed me terribly, or so she says. I got an enormous room all to myself with my host family. Nanny nanny boo boo.
Now we're finally in the French House, where we belong. We both agree that the room is a mess, and every few months we do something about that. We cleaned up the floor Friday or Saturday, and the mess is already creeping back. Hmmmm.
Anyway, I don't know why I wrote all of this, except to say that "Roommate, I appreciate you. You are great. I hope that when I am living in a two-person cardboard box, or perhaps une bote en carton, my boxmate or camarade de bote will be as cool as you."
srah - Monday, 3 December 2001 - 2:57 PM
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