The English language is full of terrifying phrases: "You have an incurable disease," "Your credit card bill is past due" and "You don't know me but I love you." Quite frankly, all of these statements pale in comparison to that question asked so frequently in Charlottesville this time of year: "Do you want to live with me next year?"
(We both know you just heard the theme from "Jaws" and had to create a makeshift paper bag from The Cavalier Daily to stop hyperventilating.)
I keep coming back to my house here in Charlottesville and wondering why all of my roommates are not at home, even though all four of them are in the living room. I lived with 10 people in an old house in South Africa, so four seems like so few. The house had been added onto so many times that it took me a week to figure out there were more than two bathrooms.
As much as I miss my roommates back in Cape Town, I definitely do not miss sharing a kitchen with that many people. My new roommates here in Charlottesville are amazing because we share a love of cleaning. Unfortunately, not all of my roommates in South Africa shared this love. My South African roommate, Amanda, would take this opportunity to tell me to stop complaining about the dishes. Thank goodness for Dish Patrol.
My roommates Dan and Nora were tired of people not doing their dishes and even more tired of the Amazing Disappearing Dishware. Despite the fact that we started the semester with eight plates and a plethora of forks and knives, our supply kept dwindling. So Nora and Dan each put a dish towel over their shoulder and deemed themselves the Dish Patrol. Reading this, you may think they went to the extreme, but they produced some impressive results. In one night of patrolling, they found two plates, a few bowls and enough cups to put the Activities Fair to shame. We all of a sudden had all of our dishes back. Sadly, that was not the last our house heard from Dish Patrol. Dan and Nora had to bring out their towels more than once last semester.
So now, this year, for the first time in my collegiate career, I'm living in a house with people I know.
The great thing about my roommates is that we all knew each other before we decided to live together, although to varying degrees (I didn't know one of my roommates' last name until the day we moved in.) That means that while we all enjoy each other's company a lot, we know when it's time to get down to business. We've had a couple of disagreements and -- shocking -- we talked about it to try to figure out some sort of compromise.
Our house is good for everyone in other ways, too. There's a boy to balance out a little of the emotional drama that inevitably crops up among us females. Each of us has a different area of expertise to aid us in advice giving -- boys, cooking, math, etc. The most important factor in living with other people is having sense of humor: three of us spent Saturday evening recovering from Friday's party and telling "your mom" jokes.
My biggest advice to those of your searching for roommates is to seek out people who are not necessarily your best friends, but with whom you can live -- they may or may not be one in the same. You may love your roommate right now despite that somewhat annoying habit he or she has of sexiling you every Thursday night. Come January, after you've already signed a lease with him, you're going to want to kill him. You're sure as hell not going to want to live with him for another year -- and your mom agrees with me.
Laura's column runs bi-weekly on Thursdays. She can be reached at lsisk@cavalierdaily.com.
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