The Roommonster Era Comes to a Close

Okay guys, I know it's been a while since I've posted but calm down. I'm alive and well and I finally finished this Spring Semester so you have my full attention. Also, I dyed and cut my hair so I somehow got even BETTER looking since last time we spoke. So that's something.

Anyway, The funny thing about people is that no matter how much you might try to leave them, they rarely actually disappear from your life. When I moved out of the dorms and officially stopped living with my roommonsters about 12 days ago, I assumed the year and the nightmares that came with it would all vanish into thin air. No more talking about, thinking about, or living with the memories of the time of my life that will henceforth be referred to as The Roommonster Era. Unfortunately, as busy as I've become with my summer tutoring job and exciting MIB training with Adrian, I'm still a bit fixated on my time in the suite with the "roomies." In fact, saying I'm a bit fixated is a gross understatement. So I thought and I thought with my attractive new hair about how one might go about moving on and letting go. I came to the conclusion that I'm lacking what one might call "closure" and it's time to get me some of that wherever it is. Might as well start with some list making, because that's what all the adults do in the voice over part at the end of movies where they summarize thier experiences and why it all mattered.

Here's what I've taken from this years experiences. The good and the bad.

1. If I never see, hear about, or come into contact with a minion related ANYTHING from Despicable Me, I will be a happy and content individual. There were WAY too many minion references and paraphernalia in that suite considering most of them were between the ages of 23-25 years old.
2. My room mates were all older than me, and half of them were Child Development majors. They sounded like they should have been ATTENDEES at a child development center rather than employees. This was a red flag, and I should have picked up on it from the beginning. I've got to be more aware!
3. Cleaning is important. It's that simple. I don't want to live with strangers who can't clean up after themselves. 
4. Loving yourself is even MORE important. Turning to others for constant validation and support isn't a healthy behavior. On top of that it's annoying. Having lived with four people who didn't love themselves and looked to each other (as well as me) to love themselves for them I can say first hand how ineffective and unrealistic that expectation is. 
5. Emotions are exhausting and completely necessary, but being OVERLY emotional is counterproductive. Group crying on the kitchen floor about your childhood on a regular basis is an excellent example of that concept. I learned that I'm not the most emotionally healthy and emotionally intelligent person on this planet, but I was definitely more emotionally prepared than I originally thought before moving into the dorms. 

There I did it. It's done. I may not have found closure but I made a list and I'm now one list closer to closure than I was before. Trying saying "closer to closure" 5 times fast eh? Hopefully I can cry a river, build a bridge, and get the hell over it SOON for the sake of myself and the well being of my relationships with others. For now, I'll try and focus on more interesting things, like being a tutor and training to be a man in black!

As I mentioned before Adrian is working on MIB training with me. We call it MIB training because calling it "exercise" is way less fun and inspiring. I've also always assumed since childhood that Tommy Lee Jones would eventually show up at my door step and whisk me away to New York where we would practice intergalactic law enforcement together. So it all works out in the end. And Tommy, if you're reading this, we still have time to make it work. I'll accept Will as a replacement, but it just wouldn't be the same. Besides, I'm still waiting on Will to show up so we can go defeat Dr. Loveless in the wild wild west. But I digress. 

We've had two MIB training sessions so far. So far I think we are managing it pretty well. Only a tiny bit of arguing but even that has gotten significantly better since session one. Guys, we are totally crushing it. I'm pretty proud. I'm super sore because I take the "no movement is good movement" approach to down time. It's been worth it though. Definitely building up some muscles that have silly names that sound made up. 

Overall, this summer is panning out to be one interesting and fulfilling new era. Employment, MIB training, new ginger hair. Let's see if I can keep this going.

Until next time, I'll leave you with this exceptional photoshop job of my new hair and elf sized adrian on my shoulder. Yeah guys, I totally understand the internet now.

The Brady Bunch Prepared Me For College, Good One Brady Bunch!

We had two fire alarms go off in the dorms Thursday. Not one, but TWO! Now I don't know about you, but that's just a little bit too much excitement for me in one day! Firetrucks came and EVERYTHING! The first alarm happened around 11 am. Those silly college students playing basketball indoors tripping sprinkler systems. I feel bad for them because it's kind of an embarrassing situation they got themselves into, but my inner Bobby Brady can't help but to scold, "Mom always says don't play ball in the house!" The accident had 16 students displaced because the water pressure from the sprinkler system shot a hole in two suites on two separate floors. Not to mention all of the innocent students got their belongings drenched in water. I mean really guys, you should have watched more Brady Bunch before living away from home. It would have totally helped to prevent this whole calamity. 

As fate would have it I was asleep when the alarm went off. Apparently the fire alarm Gods watch me and plan accidents around my building to prevent me from catching up on sleep. Every fire alarm in this dorm that wasn't a preplanned drill has woken me up mid-nap or while I was sleeping in. The first thing I did Thursday was roll out of bed trying to mutter profanity out of my half-asleep face before putting on my house robe. The second thing I did was scream the profanity once I made it out of my room because I was standing right under the screeching fire alarm. Those two extra inches I've grown since high school really made a difference in how close I am to the ceiling. I proceeded to exit the building muttering the same profane word over and over until I stood outside and awaited the news on what the fire alarm Gods concocted for me that day. 

After a decent amount of time passed and the excitement of the firetruck had worn off, new drama began its course. I watched as they called out the suite numbers of the students whose rooms had been destroyed. They all seemed so confused and nervous. I could almost see the thought bubbles above their heads. Did they find my space heater? Did I accidentally set the building aflame? Did my candle set off the alarm? Should I just go to bed before I come up with another clever idea to get myself killed... or worse, KICKED OUT! One of the girls seemed especially upset as she was informed that her suite had a gaping hole in it because some Brady in the dorm decided to play ball in the house and ruin her day. Sorry Brady kids, I know it was an accident but it doesn't make the truth less relevant.

Later that evening we had another fire alarm go off in the building.  I'm not 100% sure why the second alarm happened, but I suspect foul play amongst the elevators in the grand Game of Thrones/House of Cards thing they have going on. Bare with me, I'm going to go a little off topic so you can get some back story. You see, each semester the elevators start sparking and freaking out over a decent period of time. This can't simply be negligent upkeep or shotty workmanship. The ONLY reason for this has to be that either:

A) the elevators are at war amongst each other to win the title of King Elevator. 

B) One of the members of the Elevator Congress wants to be President Elevator, and is using politics and fast moving trains to push it's way to the top (metaphorically and literally the top floor).

Now even though the second fire alarm wasn't quite related to a Brady themed faux pas, it makes me wonder what was going on Thursday. Would the elevators have chosen to start their semesterly struggle Thursday had the Brady kids not set of the alarm first? Was this their first time playing ball in the house or did they have a history? It could have been any of us really. So many times I've watched my room mates throwing around the big bouncy ball they got from the store, and each and every time they get more and more rambunctious with it. Yet they judged and looked down on the Brady Kids in our dorm for being silly enough to set off the sprinklers. 

What's that quote from the bible, "He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone" or something to that effect. I'm not religious, but it seems like a good rule to follow. I mean I wouldn't say playing ball in the house is a sin, but I think the overarching idea of not judging people seems fair. I obviously don't follow it on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't. And before disciplining the poor misguided Brady kids of the dorm did anyone bother to show them that episode to help them understand why we don't play ball in the house? Guys, I just have a lot of questions.

It was a really eventful and exciting Thursday. I did a lot of thinking, drawing, and observing on top of the whole double fire alarm situation. I'm happy the Brady Bunch prepared me for college in that I know not to play ball in the house. 

Hopefully we all learned from it and the construction going on in that wing doesn't create too much of a hassle. But for now, I'll leave you with this drawing.

Groundhog Day and the Kitchen Cry Fest of 2013

Day one of move in weekend last Fall I walked out of my room to take a leak and found four weeping adult women on the kitchen floor comparing childhood traumas. It's been like the movie Groundhog Day ever since. I imagine it wasn't very funny for Phil Connors as he experienced it in the moment either.  

You know Groundhog Day, right? Where Bill Murry plays a weather man living the same day over and over. He does everything he can to stop living February 2nd over and over, including kidnapping the ever fluffy and charming Punxsutawney Phil. Yeah, well I've been living a way less pretty and cinematic version of Groundhog Day since that moment I realized my room mates would never stop crying on the kitchen floor.

Anyway, the good thing about living with crazy people is that you get way more interesting stories out of it than when you live with sane and pleasant people. You learn and grow from it and gain all these valuable life lessons, which I will impart on this blog occasionally if I remember to. I can be scatter brained. You may rest assured knowing that you will definitely hear about the stories. If I could sing them to you I would, because I  have a beautiful singing voice the likes of which every Disney princess would hate me more than my room mates do out of pure and utter jealousy. And I could be over-exaggerating. After all it wouldn't be the first time my confidence level combined with my powerful imagination has lead me to believe I'm more extraodinary than I actually am.

Back to day one. I had to take a leak and I still hadn't emptied all of my boxes in my room, but I was making progress. I opened my door and before I could get down the hall to the toilet I was confronted with a very uncomfortable situation. Mind you, not one of us actually knew each other yet. We had exchanged very superficial text messages saying things like:

Room mate A: "I like pugs, do you like pugs?"
Me: "I have no opinion on the pug issue, but thats nice"

So there was no background between any of us to really justify having four women ugly crying on the kitchen floor in pools of mascara and snot. And when I say ugly crying I'm not calling names, I'm just saying this wasn't some glamourus movie version of female emotion where the nose gets a little red and a single tear flows down the acne free cheek. This was full on, I-just-watched-an-episode-of-greys-anatomy-and-I-can't-deal crying where you spoon feed yourself and cling to your comfort object as your face gets smushy and voilent red and you don't know which liquids are which and you realize YOU DON'T RECOGNIZE YOURSELF ANYMORE!

I get that sometimes we just gotta cry it out. Crying isn't a weakness, it's a skill really. It just seemed a little inappropriate amongst a group of strangers in a dorm while they compared really terrible, inconvienient personal histories like a dick measuring contest of emotion and turmoil. Here's a rough outline of how that night went.

Room mate A: "I was adopted"
Room mate B: "I'm deaf" 
Room mate C: "I'm blind" 
Room mate D: "I have trust issues" 
Room mate A: "I hate myself" 

The contest went on... for hours. And I just sat on the toilet devising a plan to sneak past them. This was pretty stupid of me. I mean a really dumb plan, because my room lies just across from the kitchen (not even a yard stick away) where they had morphed into a single human entity of sadness and bodily goo. By the time I realized just how naive my plan was it was too late. I reached my door to unlock it and retreat just as the four weeping heads turned to me for support and validation. I kid you not, it happened in slow motion and everything. 

I am really not that emotionally constipated, but my instinct was to pretend it wasn't happening and lock myself in my room while they judged me for my lack of participation in what I like to call the "Kitchen Cry Fest of 2013." I acknowledge it sounds very paranoid to imagine they were judging me or thinking of me at all while reliving all of thier former traumas and misgivings. Unfortunately, I'm not paranoid. Not even a month into living with them I had to have a come to jesus meeting over Room mate A's hurt feelings over my lack of emotional communication with her. She mentioned Kitchen Cry Fest 2013 specifically as an example of how she felt distanced from me. This then morphed into a group mentality supported by emotional validation with the ring leader being none other than Room mate A. 

The herd has found itself many targets since the beginning of last semester, some of which were members of the herd itself. Thier first target was me. Apparently a common mix up in bathroom cleaning schedules makes you good fodder for the herd. But that's a completely other story in its own.

Day one of movie in weekend will forever be the Groundhog Day of the 2013-2014 school year. I have yet to steal a rodent in any of my plans to end this time loop, does that mean I'm not trying hard enough? I don't believe so, but maybe Phil Connors would have a differing opinion on that. More importantly than the Groundhog Day bit, day one of move in weekend will forever be the day that I started learning how to choose room mates that were NOT the room mates that I chose. Not to get all "Anarchy! Fight the norm! Listen to The Used!" on anyone, but I am not a sheep. I am some kind of undiscovered crazy looking awesome animal that is probably yellow, and probably does weird shit all on its own without the influence of other yellow, crazy looking, awesome animals telling it that it should. This blogger is making better choices in room mates for next year and finding at least a few fellow undiscovered animals to live with. Even if the rest kind of suck, having SOMEONE that doesn't want to cry on the kitchen floor will be a plus.

My Monsters and the Room Mate Blues

Ever since I moved out of the house and into the dorms last Fall I've found a new obsession with monsters. This makes sense because I've been living with four of them since August last year. And like most of my obsessions, this one has found its expression through my art. I draw them in class, in bed, on benches during my room mate escaping walks around campus; I draw them everywhere. Many of them are cute and friendly looking while the others end up taking on the characteristics of my room mates. This little blue one here reminds me of the worst of them. She's short, always making noise, and despite her looks is the most popular among our pod. Some might say she makes me ROARING mad! Get it? Roar... like a monster.... Anyway, thankfully I don't actually have to share a room with any of my real life monsters. Hopefully next years room mates will inspire something with a more positive connotation to it. But hey, at least I got some good art out of this year!