You may be right. I may be crazy.

The small women’s college I attended my freshman year bragged about the extensive screening and matching process the recruitment officers go through to determine which two incoming freshmen would be best suited for each other as roommates. I was pumped, although apparently I didn’t convey my true personality, because my roommate and I were no match at all and had nothing in common other than a shared major (Biology, which she promptly changed to Business after our first dissection lab). I should have suspected my roomie wasn’t going to be a barrel of laughs when she contacted me shortly before move-in day to coordinate which twin extra long comforter sets we were going to purchase, “so we’ll match.”

“Jenny” was a huge dork who went home every weekend and had a small desktop zen garden. I blasted Ben Harper, dyed my hair purple, and snuck beer into my mini fridge that my friends at nearby Wake Forest had provided for me. I raked the sand in her zen garden into what I hoped were disruptive patterns in her absence and blamed it on our neighbor, who we both couldn’t stand but was always stopping by. It was during this time I developed the habit of talking out loud to inanimate objects, as I had the room to myself 98% of the time.

Oh, Papa John’s Pizza with ham and pineapple, you are so delicious.

Screw you, printer! Don’t you know I have a paper due in 45 minutes?!?

When I left Salem College and moved to Wilmington, waiting tables didn’t help. I cursed my pens for exploding in my apron, gave the tea urns the finger when they overflowed, and begged my car to start for me in the morning. Mop bucket! How about not tipping over and drenching my shoes for once?

All bets were off, however when I got Hemo. She is the talking-est cat I know. She’ll have a full on conversation.

Me: Hey Hemo, did you have a good day?

Hemo: No.

Me: How about some dinner?

Hemo: Now!

Me: There you go.

Hemo: Fuck you.

Ok then.

8 thoughts on “You may be right. I may be crazy.

  1. …but it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for…

    Okay, had to get that out of my system.

    You must’ve been the coolest roommate ever. I have no idea why boring Jenny didn’t invite you to come home with her.

  2. dingo – I actually had to structure my post around that song, because it’s been in my head on repeat for about 3 days. Back in the day I thought Harry Anderson was Dave Barry.

    kate – I don’t know anyone in real life who ended up liking their random college roommate.

  3. I talk to everything. I find it really helps keep loonies off you when walking down town so there is definitely an up side. Although normal people give me really weird looks too, but oh well, there are casualties in every war.

  4. “gave the tea urns the finger when they overflowed”

    Guh. Only someone who has worked in the service industry knows this pain.

    I usually gave it the “suck it” sign though.

  5. …and other reasons I no longer have cats…or roommates for that matter.

    Happy wandering!

    The Writer…and her dog, Bear

  6. LOL that was funny as heck! I talk to my cat all the time and he always has more to say than I do! Roommates for the most part suck all the time.

  7. c. watson – One day my roommate mentioned to me that I looked like a crazy face walking through campus talking to myself. Oh well.

    so – The message is the same. Tea urns suck.

    the writer – I’ve eliminated roommates, but the cat is harder to get rid of. Well, not that I want to. She’s pretty alright.

    cc – When I picked my own roommates, it worked out much better.

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