My third roommate is a middle-aged woman from Romania, which used to be called Dacia back in Roman times. Also I think she can speak Latin, so I’m going to call her Dacia. She was a pharmacist (or whatever passes for a pharmacist) in the old country, and she’s old enough to have lived through the times of Ceausescu. She came to this country five years ago. She’s crazy and stressed out about everything. She’s not nice or mean, but pretty neutral. She has an accent, and also a lisp. And also she can’t read maps for shit. Like, she’s hella wrong but still thinks that she’s right.
Her husband on the other hand is a fucking disaster zone. He’s like fifty-five, bald, old, ugly, mean, limps, and in general seems like a shitty person. While she was running around moving bags, he yelled at her to close the door like he was mad cheesed or some shit. It had been opened for ten minutes, and also two windows on opposite sides of the room were open, but he apparently gave MASSIVE shits about this door being closed. What an asswipe. Also when he left, I looked at him and smiled, and he just said, “I doubt I’ll ever see you again” and I just kind of looked away still smiling because I couldn’t really believe that he’d say that because that’d make him the biggest ass I’ve ever met. He didn’t say it like he was joking, he said it like he fucking hated me. Maybe he hates me because his wife is moving on to a new life without him and I’m a symbol of that, or maybe it’s because he limps from his service in Nam and he thinks I’m a gook or communist or something.
Obviously she only married this guy for the green card. He has zero redeeming qualities. And she probably was relatively good-looking when she was younger and had longer hair and wasn’t crazy.
And she’s not crazy in the good way, like in an entertaining way. She’s crazy because she’s stressed and gives a massive shit about little details. I can actually picture everyone getting tired of her in a few weeks. We’ll see if my prediction pans out. Ugh. It’s like an absolute shitshow walks into your life on a permanent basis for the next year.
Edit: I just helped her build her bed. She said the phrase “I’m crazy” three times. Also she just asked me what my sign was (like, zodiac sign) and said that we would all get along because apparently our signs get along. Also she complained about communism a bunch. I think we’ll get along.
Another roommate I will call Hamburger Helper, due to the large collection of boxed food she maintains. It appears that she eats everything out of cans and boxes. She’s actually sitting three feet in front of me as I write this, and I have a bit of a smile thinking about what she would think of the name Hamburger Helper. She would probably be offended. She’s a little chubby, and people who are a little chubby are more afraid of being fat than people who are irredeemably fat.
She isn’t that talkative, and she doesn’t seem like she’s that happy of a person. She goes to work a lot (Sticks does too). When she’s not at work, she’s in her room, but I have no idea what she does up there because it’s a floor up. She doesn’t appear to be on the computer very much, and the one time that I went up there, she was sleeping.
Also she’s on her phone a lot. She’s always talking to someone, but I’m not quite sure whom. I think she’s just really introverted. And from her FB page it looks like she watches a lot of TV, but doesn’t have so many friends. I kind of wonder if she’s straight up that boring or if she has weird shit going on under the surface.
Edit: “Chubby” to me means “normal” to others. Caveat emptor.
Edit 2: I just got to get to know her a little better. Apparently she knows that she doesn’t talk a lot, and people think that she’s a bitch because of it. Dacia was complaining about how she never said anything as was really aloof and blunt. Mystique (Rommate #4, still trying to dissect her personality) was counterpointing that she probably didn’t mean anything by it, and she’s just a direct person. She is also a registered nurse, and she has a night job and a bunch of other stuff going on, so she’s busy forever. So she’s actually really normal but kind of quiet at first and also in general.
My new roommate Sticks is a guy who’s one year ahead of me. He’s really pale and spent his childhood/high school/college/pharm school — basically his entire life within a radius of forty miles or so.
He’s kind of a dork, but at least he makes an attempt to talk. He just took a bunch of laundry and drove home because his parents have a bigger washing machine. Drive eighty miles to and fro to do laundry? Maybe his mom does it for him. Derp.
Whelp, my former lesbian roommate took off for Montana or Wyoming or somewhere more backwater than here. And I wasn’t able to get to her apt on time before she flew out.
So I told her to give it to the person whose apt I was crashing during the summer the next time they meet and he’d give it to my parents, and I’d have it the next time I went home. One day I will write a Part IV, still.
A combination of the fact that I really miss Berkeley and here I have no food, furniture, friends, bank ATM, or anything to do draws a really crappy foil, and I feel a bit like Fantine and her unrealized dreams. I’ll probably be better in a week.
Or, even if I have nothing else, I’ll have my PC in a week.
Everything went roughly according to plan, just like D-Day. A tinge of irony? Very yes.
Everything in California went well, ahead of schedule. Expedia fucked up by saying that my airline was in Terminal 1, but it turns out that it was lumped in a weird area where they have mixed international and domestic flights. But I found it with a little help from a security guard, and the flight was fine.
I landed at MSP, and baggage claim took around ten minutes… I was really surprised. The last time I had to wait at a baggage claim, I was still in middle school. Maybe the Web 2.0 real-time synergy bullshit made it faster? Maybe. Maybe a million dicks.
Anyway, feeling momentarily how hot it was outside, I decided to take a taxi (usually an idiotic idea) and blew forty bucks to get to the apartment at record time… except none of my roommates were there so I had to wait two hours in 80 degree heat. It’s in a charming little park across the street with some benches and grass. I bet it would be really good for making snowmen. The trade off is that the park harbors cicadas and crickets so you can hear their really annoying sounds.
I met my two roommates who are current students. The female one seemed a bit boring and reserved, but the male one was nice. Walking next to campus, it reminded me of USC — of course, USC resembles a traditional midwestern university, seismically unsafe brick architecture and all. It also made me think of Nick, my internet friend who drove me down to USC, his alma mater.
He had a bizarre attachment to his frat house, which was dirty and unpleasant as housing. But as I walked around Berkeley’s campus the day before I flew out, I would point out all of these different places where I’d had memories or idiotic stories to my friend James who had just transferred in. It was, here are the benches I sat on before my bioethics lecture being sad because I was bored. Here’s where Passionfruit picked blackberries to turn into mediocre cobbler. Here’s where I fucked up my kite. Nick must feel that way about his frat and USC. So I guess I understand him a little bit better now.
One day I’ll be too old to walk around campus and have people just assume that I’m a student. That will be a sad day.
Work email, school email x2, personal email
Wikipedia front page
Paul Krugman’s blog
PZ Myers’s blog
Philip Greenspun’s blog (not that great)