Finding good roommates is kind of like dating. Like dating your best friend, living with them can either bring you closer or completely obliterate any crumb of a relationship you may have by the time one of you moves out in the middle of the night. And like dating on the internet, you really never know what you are going to get.
Now, I know the fallacies of Craigslist. I have experienced some of them myself. I once found a roommate who advertised herself as "Quiet, but still likes to have fun occasionally. Looking for someone who can be a friend as well as a roommate." Well, quiet ended up meaning absolutely crazy and likes to have fun meant watching the mold grow in the bottle of ketchup she kept in the fridge that she refused quite profusely to throw out.
My experience with internet "Roommate Dating" was different this go around. I have had the fortune of falling into a group of wonderful, beautiful women who are so diverse but have no problem finding a common ground in any situation. And believe me, these girls are VERY different than anything that I'm used to...seeing as they are all lesbians.
Living in the South, I was never really exposed to this Land of Women. I had two good friends who were homosexual, but they were the only two people I knew who were openly gay. One of the reasons why I love my girls here is that they are uber out. They rejoice in not only other women's bodies, but their own also. They are so confident in their womanhood, and it is wonderful living in an environment where we are so celebrated.
And, of course, they are so much fun. Whenever I am not with the boyfriend (yes I really do have one and the girls have affectionately named him "Beardy," as he will now be known to you all), you can find me doing something completely ridiculous with the girls. We all openly love 30 Rock and are secretly obsessed with Glee. We love dressing up and going out, or putting on our most unflattering pj's and cooking dinner for each other. I realized how lucky I was the other night as we gathered around the tv for our weekly Glee viewing. Everyone was a twitter about how the team would perform at Sectionals and why we all are in love with Brittany. Trying to be more health conscious, we were all chewing wilty spinach leaves with the least disgusting of the fat free dressings we had begrudgingly purchased at the store. We soon became bored with being healthy, and I was chosen as the one to make the snack run. After I had collected the money, I sprinted, literally, down the street in my pajamas in the 30 degree weather to the tiny convenience store on the corner to buy ice cream sandwiches for everyone.
I luckily made it back home before the show came on (not that it was my favorite anyways), but whether we enjoyed the episode or not, all of us broke into song when the kids on tv started singing Florence and The Machine. We apparently became re-interested in being healthy (it was probably the adrenaline of our spontaneous performance talking) and then engaged in a self made group exercise program. When our earnest working out disintegrated into riotous laughter at the spectacle we were making of ourselves, we decided to look to the professionals for help. We found something that looked like it may be easy on our Video on Demand, "Beauty Body Sculpt." I'll admit we were a little sexist in choosing this. It sounded like something that toothpick women who didn't really need to work out but wanted to look like they were doing something to make themselves look so beautiful would do. And, in the beginning, we seemed to be right. Our self-induced illusion was soon quelled when our pretty exercise guide informed us that what we thought had been a moderate workout was actually just a warm up. The little workout devil woman then launched into some hellish exercise routine that had five girls jumping and pumping fists and lunging and twisting themselves into such a frenzy that by the end, those of us that weren't laying in the floor claiming their legs did not work were trying to hold ourselves up on the bookshelves while we gulped in breaths of hot, sweaty, living room air.
We then fell on the floor with our fallen comrades as our tired, tired bodies were raked by more laughter.
This is my life now. I know that my best friend M was worried when she let this baby bird fly out of the nest we had made in SC, but I already cannot wait for her to come visit me and meet not only Beardy, but this group of radical women who are breaking down boundaries not only within the realms of the society in which we live, but, as sappy as it sounds, in my own heart too.
It's "wicked pissah." :)
Now, I know the fallacies of Craigslist. I have experienced some of them myself. I once found a roommate who advertised herself as "Quiet, but still likes to have fun occasionally. Looking for someone who can be a friend as well as a roommate." Well, quiet ended up meaning absolutely crazy and likes to have fun meant watching the mold grow in the bottle of ketchup she kept in the fridge that she refused quite profusely to throw out.
Single White Female, anyone?
My experience with internet "Roommate Dating" was different this go around. I have had the fortune of falling into a group of wonderful, beautiful women who are so diverse but have no problem finding a common ground in any situation. And believe me, these girls are VERY different than anything that I'm used to...seeing as they are all lesbians.
Living in the South, I was never really exposed to this Land of Women. I had two good friends who were homosexual, but they were the only two people I knew who were openly gay. One of the reasons why I love my girls here is that they are uber out. They rejoice in not only other women's bodies, but their own also. They are so confident in their womanhood, and it is wonderful living in an environment where we are so celebrated.
And, of course, they are so much fun. Whenever I am not with the boyfriend (yes I really do have one and the girls have affectionately named him "Beardy," as he will now be known to you all), you can find me doing something completely ridiculous with the girls. We all openly love 30 Rock and are secretly obsessed with Glee. We love dressing up and going out, or putting on our most unflattering pj's and cooking dinner for each other. I realized how lucky I was the other night as we gathered around the tv for our weekly Glee viewing. Everyone was a twitter about how the team would perform at Sectionals and why we all are in love with Brittany. Trying to be more health conscious, we were all chewing wilty spinach leaves with the least disgusting of the fat free dressings we had begrudgingly purchased at the store. We soon became bored with being healthy, and I was chosen as the one to make the snack run. After I had collected the money, I sprinted, literally, down the street in my pajamas in the 30 degree weather to the tiny convenience store on the corner to buy ice cream sandwiches for everyone.
I luckily made it back home before the show came on (not that it was my favorite anyways), but whether we enjoyed the episode or not, all of us broke into song when the kids on tv started singing Florence and The Machine. We apparently became re-interested in being healthy (it was probably the adrenaline of our spontaneous performance talking) and then engaged in a self made group exercise program. When our earnest working out disintegrated into riotous laughter at the spectacle we were making of ourselves, we decided to look to the professionals for help. We found something that looked like it may be easy on our Video on Demand, "Beauty Body Sculpt." I'll admit we were a little sexist in choosing this. It sounded like something that toothpick women who didn't really need to work out but wanted to look like they were doing something to make themselves look so beautiful would do. And, in the beginning, we seemed to be right. Our self-induced illusion was soon quelled when our pretty exercise guide informed us that what we thought had been a moderate workout was actually just a warm up. The little workout devil woman then launched into some hellish exercise routine that had five girls jumping and pumping fists and lunging and twisting themselves into such a frenzy that by the end, those of us that weren't laying in the floor claiming their legs did not work were trying to hold ourselves up on the bookshelves while we gulped in breaths of hot, sweaty, living room air.
We then fell on the floor with our fallen comrades as our tired, tired bodies were raked by more laughter.
This is my life now. I know that my best friend M was worried when she let this baby bird fly out of the nest we had made in SC, but I already cannot wait for her to come visit me and meet not only Beardy, but this group of radical women who are breaking down boundaries not only within the realms of the society in which we live, but, as sappy as it sounds, in my own heart too.
It's "wicked pissah." :)
