Got the new roommate! I wish, I SO wish, I could say that I am excited. I was wrong about the nerdy, gay kid thing. I was so wrong. He is a large, strong, drug dealer living in my living room who also wants to rap for a living. I know I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but I have to admit that I am not leaving my room because I am super intimidated by him.
The only thing that is more terrifying then living with a drug dealer is the idea that people will be coming into MY home to buy drugs from him. Who thought it was a good idea to let people who need to pay for drugs come into my home with things they could steal and sell for drugs. I LIKE MY THINGS. Okay, I did get most of my furniture college dumpster diving, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t loved and valued. The furniture is also crawling with bed bugs, so I guess if they steal it I still win.
I am also ashamed to admit that I really hate living with a man that I am not dating or who isn’t super gay. I feel like I am required to be dressed and ready every time I leave my room. I’ve heard that men turn to stone at the sight of a woman without makeup and a ratty tee-shirt.
Everyone has that point in their life where they want to break down crying and rip apart their mattress… right? I just made the wonderful discovery that my apartment has fallen prey to the most common of poverty stricken maladies. That’s right, I have bed bugs. If you ask my friends who live in their fancy little Beacon Hill apartments or out in the suburbs, you’d think I have the flu or something. They have banned me from coming over for fear that they will “catch the bed bugs.” For those of you who may be unaware, people don’t breath out bed bugs. That’s like saying “whoa your house has a lot of spiders; I can’t let you come over.” I can see bed bugs, they aren’t on top of me all day, even if I feel like they are.
I’ve had a bunch of people I don’t even really know give me their horror stories about bed bugs or their suggestions on how to get rid of them. I didn’t really listen at first because I assumed that when my landlord said he would come and spray, that he would actually come over and spray them. He said this two weeks ago. I wonder if he died or something. That would explain a lot.
The worst part about bed bugs isn’t that there are actual bugs crawling all over your place at night. The worst part is thinking you are covered in bugs all night. I have dreams about bugs eating my face. I check my sheets 10 times in the light and the flash light just to make sure the little demons won’t start out on top of me. You start to think every zip, mosquito bite, and weird colored patches are the result of bed bugs and you are ALWAYS itchy. I have decided that bed bugs are a physiological disease.
Til next time!
My first big surprise when I moved in was that all of my roommates were lesbians, well all but one. I have no problem with lesbians, I want that noted. I have even considered hopping on the lady train myself sometimes. The issue with living with lesbians is not that you think they are checking you out when you get out of the shower or anything generic and stupid like that. My biggest issue is that they all have girlfriends and smoke a lot of pot. At the risk of sounding crude, they kind of make the entire apartment smell like weed and vagina. And not like just regular vagina that is relatively odorless, like hippie post-sex vagina. Yeah, that smell. I hope you don’t know it.
Thanks to the power of Febreze and a few basic household cleaners I was able to eradicate this problem, but not the slight crush on my roommate’s girlfriend. Does that make me gay?
More importantly they are some of the nicest people I have ever met. They almost had a fight once and it was ridiculously polite, but not in that Upper East Side ‘I’m only being nice so I can destroy you later’ kind of way. They really do care about the other person’s needs. They are opening to sharing and despite the fact that I am clearly an outsider with my Midwestern ways they have tried to not make me feel like the boring one who goes to bed early to wake up for work.
My only concern is that there is apparently some guy moving in soon. I am getting the impression that he is a scrawny slightly gay kid, so it should be all good. Here’s to new friends!
For those of you who have no idea where or what Allston is, it is one of those super sketchy areas right outside a city that aren’t close enough to have large business and parks, but not so far out that it is the suburbs. It is the part of the city where they put the poor minorities, the criminals, and the broke college kids. I am one of the latter. We can characterize most of the people in the area as wanna-be hippies with a short attention span when it comes to work, but a propensity to being a dick about music, clothing, and general lifestyle choices. Not that it is always a bad thing, there are a few very talent musicians, artists, and genuinely intelligent people, but most of them just like to think that they are.
Since moving in I have been asking myself the same question over and over. How did I get here? The answer is simple, I really didn’t want to go home and my family isn’t exactly rolling in the cash, so I had to find a place I could afford with a minimum wage job. For any of you who have tried to support yourself in Boston, you know minimum wage jobs are not enough to afford any type of classy apartment, or any apartment for that matter. Boston is apparently one of the most expensive cities to live in, a fact I was not fully aware of when I chose to go to school here. Minimum wage here is a whole 25 cents higher than from where I come from, so that should be enough to cover the $500 spike in rent prices.
I did what any poor single person does to get cheap housing; I got on Craigslist and moved into the cheapest apartment I found. The current tenants interviewed me and a few other applicants and for some reason I was picked. I have this sinking feeling it was because the other people they interviewed didn’t have jobs and they were a little nervous about having a person who wouldn’t be able to make rent. I moved in last week and have already realized that this will be one of the great stories of my college years, so I thought I should anonymously share it with anyone who happens to ever stumble upon my blog. This is my story.