Miss Nemesis over at Voice of Reason recently wrote a post regarding her upcoming transition from female roommates to a lone male roommate. She listed both the pros and cons of female co-habitation and also discussed some of the perceived potential drawbacks of living with a BOY. I found this post and the comments fascinating as I too have just recently made this transition. Instead of writing a long, drawn-out comment however, I thought I would just respond to the post with a post in kind.
Things I won’t miss about female roommates:
The comment section was riddled with horror stories of nightmarish female roommates, and as I read, I again thanked my lucky stars for my complete lack of desire to attend a church school. Typical housing at these schools routinely lumped you with 5 roommates at a go. It is a very bad idea to have that many female roommates. Always. Especially when there is one bathroom….two max. Under those circumstances, you are asking for trouble.
My undergraduate roommates became life-long friends—they were clean, considerate, kind, had great tastes in music, and were hilarious. What wasn’t there to like? My last set of roommates however……*sigh*. I confess to engaging in such passive aggressive tactics as dishwashing strikes and thermostat wars. I think this behavior occurs when you aren’t invested enough in a friendship to actually communicate and is irrespective of gender of the parties involved.
Things that I will miss about female roommates:
1) Sharing clothes. While I can wear Mr. F.’s clothes, this doesn’t really help me if I am looking for something new to wear to church. (Because, Mr. F. is NOT that type of guy.) Actually, the only roommate that I could actually share clothes with was my sister, with whom I lived three years. And yeah, that was nice. I miss having her closet to supplement mine.
2) Watching chick flicks. Mr. F. actually doesn’t mind watching my period pieces and teeny flicks. Granted, he probably won’t watch them over and over again to the point of obsession and spontaneous quotation like Yola and I did, but I will take what I can get.
3) Dance parties. Ah. Here is the clincher. Mr. F. doesn’t dance. This makes me cry a little as dancing is one of my greatest past times. This is the one activity that I miss the most from my college days—my roommates’ and my Friday night dance parties which involved us jamin’ to our favorite music in the privacy of our room.
Living with a BOY:
Mr. F. isn’t the first boy I have lived with. This is good as I have something to compare the experience with. The first boy I roomed with was Mr. Tim, otherwise known as “stinky cheese man.” Mr. Tim was actually very nice—in a geeky sort of way. But he smelled like boy. And all his stuff smelled like boy. And I don’t think he was super clean. But he kept the common areas clean and never left the seat up. So, all in all, he was a pretty good roommate. He only occasionally stayed up playing video games and watching Bruce Lee movies. He also never took up freezer space—a key point in being a Good Roommate. The second boy was Sr. Loco. And we all know what happened there. However it could have been a lot worse. He could have smelled like boy (he didn’t. He just smelled like bad cologne.) We never had to share a bathroom so I didn’t have to worry about the toilet seat. And the freezer/fridge space was no longer an issue after we got the free second fridge. Basically, he had to go and ruin a pretty decent living situation by falling in love with me while slowly taking over my identity.
So that brings us to Mr. F. Mr. F. compares quite favorably to my former male roommates. Mr. F. is very clean. More so than I am, and I don't consider myself a slob. The nice perk to this tendency is that he by no means smells like a boy, and for this I am very grateful. We also seem to be in agreement in regards to video games--they are of the devil and should be destroyed from off the face of this planet. (O.k. perhaps that is my stance, but he is smart enough not to mess with it.) And as yet, he has refrained from breaking out any Bruce Lee movies. He also does not leave the toilet seat up so I don’t have to worry about plunging into the depths of the toilet in the middle of the night. And finally, while he is madly in love with me, he is not compelled to find everything I live fascinating to the point of becoming my twin.
So I think I lucked out with Mr. F. Or perhaps my previous experience taught me what is important in a male roommate. In either case, I am positive that my relatively good luck regarding roommates has held, and Mr. F. and I will enjoy each other's company, dance parties or not.