Why A Vivid Imagination Is A Bad Thing
TITLE:
The Collective Imagining - or - Don't Be Coy About Where You've Been, or Your Roommates Will Invent an Imaginary Boyfriend for You
ABSTRACT:
This case study examines the effects of lying to ones roommates, or at least twisting the truth in imaginative and possibly immoral ways. Some days, it's really better just to go with hurt feelings and the truth. But that's no where near as much fun for anyone.
INTRODUCTION:
So this really starts back in February or March or whenever it was that I got a roommate. Keep in mind that my sleeping patterns are abysmal, and I don't tend to sleep well in strange environments as a general rule. As in, pretty much any change in environment means I get no sleep at all. This includes sleeping in hotels, over at other peoples houses, and changes to my own environment, like the addition of people or things that weren't there before.
Like a roommate.
Now, at that point in time, I didn't so much as have a roommate as have someone who got drunk a lot, complained about hating her life (despite just getting into law school) and wandered into my room at three in the morning, ran the water for ten minutes to cover up the sound of bodily excretions (it's a shy bladder thing, which I didn't know at the time, which didn't help with my inclinations towards homicide at the time) and wandered back out again to go back to sleep on the couch with whatever boy it was that night. Grounds enough for homicide on a good day. These? Were not exactly what you'd call good days, seeing as I'd go to bed at one, get woken up at three, and have to get up for my eight AM classes by six. I wouldn't get back to sleep. During the week, I don't get much more than four or five hours of sleep a night as a general rule, but two is pushing the boundaries of even my capacity for sleep deprivation. It's just enough sleep to ensure that you are alternately whiny, cranky and homicidal for the rest of the day, in addition to generally Feeling Like Shit.
So I started looking for alternate living arrangements. It just so happened that a friend of mine was going to spend the next quarter abroad and needed someone to sublease his room. And, in a moment of abject misery, I said, "Yes! Dear Fates, get me out of there."
Except for the small part of not being able to get out of my rent contract.
And also except for the part where things got really good between all of the other housemates and I after that. There was gossiping and TV-watching and good times were had by all.
So I sort of have two apartments. This works out fine. It's not a stretch on my finances at all, thanks to a bit of financial wrangling, and I always have some place else to go when I decide one set of roommates or another is getting a little too in my bubble for anyone's peace of mind.
But I may have neglected to mention that to the first set of roommates.
RESULTS:
This is all my fault. I totally accept that part. But, I don't know. It just seems mean to say, "I have another apartment because I didn't want to live with you because your drama is making me crazy. Also? I might smother you in your sleep with a pillow." Definitely not conducive to pleasant long-term living arrangements, you know?
I forgot that my roommates - being my roommates - would come up with exactly one explanation for my absences.
Roommate: So, where have you been?
Me: Um.
Roommate: Me and Female Housemate haven't seen you in awhile. Is there a boy?
Me: Er. *Warning klaxons go off in my head.* Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!
Roommate: *Eyes light up with unholy glee.* There is a boy!
Me: O, Roommate, how the hell did you get "boyfriend" from "er."
Roommate: *Nodding sagely to herself. Uh huh. Is he cute?
Me: *Mentally weighing my options.* On the one hand, we have hurt feelings and "I will smother you in your sleep with a pillow." On the other hand, we have a perfectly rational and pre-made explanation for where I go and why I'm gone. Self-preservation kicks in. Only, it does it in true auroleus fashion, and does so in the most self-destructive way possible.* ...Maybe.
Roommate: *Even more gleeful, which I hadn't actually thought possible.* You do have a boyfriend!
Me: Not really. More like ... a friend. Who's a boy.
Roommate: Uh huh. What's he look like? What's his name? Have we met him?
Me: *Plaintive.* Must we have this conversation?
Roommate: Yes! Female Housemate, come here!
Me: Oh, dear Fates, I'm doomed.
And so on, and so forth. There was grilling, a little more creative distorting of the truth, and the end result, which was their complete and utter conviction that I'm going over for booty calls, or some such. (Strangely enough, I didn't lead them into that. *Shudders.* They came up with that one all on their own and refuse to let go of the idea, despite frequent and occasionally violent attempts to teach them otherwise.)
DISCUSSION:
My male flatmates - the other set of roommates - know about this and find it hilarious. So, unfortunately, does most of the rest of my acquaintanceship.
crotalorumaurum: *Inquiringly.* Tell me, is up down in your world? And don't give me some science-y explanation about how it is in some places, 'cause I already know about that.
auroleus: Maybe? *Pauses.* So this friend of my flatmates is coming up for a weekend. I'm thinking of borrowing him to bring home to my roommates. (The rationale behind this being: my roommates will think there's a boy, and none of my flatmates have to worry about being randomly accosted. Everybody wins!)
crotalorumaurum: This is going to blow up in your face.
auroleus: Oh, completely. But it's going to be really funny.
crotalorumaurum: Just one problem. How are you going to stop the two of them from acting really gay around one another? (crotalorumaurum has met both guys, just for the record. So she's familiar with the way that you'd totally think they were dating if you were just watching them, despite the fact that they're both straight. Mostly because they say things like, "Baby, that wasn't what you said last night" to each other with completely straight faces and it is hilarious.)
auroleus *Ponders this. ... That could be a problem, yeah.
crotalorumaurum: Well, it's that or your roommate decides you're in a threesome with two gay guys.
auroleus: *Determinedly.* I'll just borrow him for twenty minutes. Alone. Separate-like. To avoid that.
crotalorumaurum: This is still going to backfire spectacularly, you do know that right?
Strangely enough, it didn't. I brought both of the guys over to grab stuff from my other place ("Because you need to protect me from my roommate. I mean it. She's going to threaten me with another Girl's Night In, and then I'll have to commit sepukku and it will be all your fault for letting me go to my doom by myself.") Male flatmate was there, female flatmates were absent. It was strangely anti-climatic.
But, hey, I discovered I can make egg-rolls from scratch and have them turn out alright, so the evening wasn't a total bust.
Of course, I haven't seen my female flatmates long enough to be razzed by them, so they may yet threaten me with another Girls Night In. This also may yet backfire spectacularly. We'll see.
The Collective Imagining - or - Don't Be Coy About Where You've Been, or Your Roommates Will Invent an Imaginary Boyfriend for You
ABSTRACT:
This case study examines the effects of lying to ones roommates, or at least twisting the truth in imaginative and possibly immoral ways. Some days, it's really better just to go with hurt feelings and the truth. But that's no where near as much fun for anyone.
INTRODUCTION:
So this really starts back in February or March or whenever it was that I got a roommate. Keep in mind that my sleeping patterns are abysmal, and I don't tend to sleep well in strange environments as a general rule. As in, pretty much any change in environment means I get no sleep at all. This includes sleeping in hotels, over at other peoples houses, and changes to my own environment, like the addition of people or things that weren't there before.
Like a roommate.
Now, at that point in time, I didn't so much as have a roommate as have someone who got drunk a lot, complained about hating her life (despite just getting into law school) and wandered into my room at three in the morning, ran the water for ten minutes to cover up the sound of bodily excretions (it's a shy bladder thing, which I didn't know at the time, which didn't help with my inclinations towards homicide at the time) and wandered back out again to go back to sleep on the couch with whatever boy it was that night. Grounds enough for homicide on a good day. These? Were not exactly what you'd call good days, seeing as I'd go to bed at one, get woken up at three, and have to get up for my eight AM classes by six. I wouldn't get back to sleep. During the week, I don't get much more than four or five hours of sleep a night as a general rule, but two is pushing the boundaries of even my capacity for sleep deprivation. It's just enough sleep to ensure that you are alternately whiny, cranky and homicidal for the rest of the day, in addition to generally Feeling Like Shit.
So I started looking for alternate living arrangements. It just so happened that a friend of mine was going to spend the next quarter abroad and needed someone to sublease his room. And, in a moment of abject misery, I said, "Yes! Dear Fates, get me out of there."
Except for the small part of not being able to get out of my rent contract.
And also except for the part where things got really good between all of the other housemates and I after that. There was gossiping and TV-watching and good times were had by all.
So I sort of have two apartments. This works out fine. It's not a stretch on my finances at all, thanks to a bit of financial wrangling, and I always have some place else to go when I decide one set of roommates or another is getting a little too in my bubble for anyone's peace of mind.
But I may have neglected to mention that to the first set of roommates.
RESULTS:
This is all my fault. I totally accept that part. But, I don't know. It just seems mean to say, "I have another apartment because I didn't want to live with you because your drama is making me crazy. Also? I might smother you in your sleep with a pillow." Definitely not conducive to pleasant long-term living arrangements, you know?
I forgot that my roommates - being my roommates - would come up with exactly one explanation for my absences.
Roommate: So, where have you been?
Me: Um.
Roommate: Me and Female Housemate haven't seen you in awhile. Is there a boy?
Me: Er. *Warning klaxons go off in my head.* Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!
Roommate: *Eyes light up with unholy glee.* There is a boy!
Me: O, Roommate, how the hell did you get "boyfriend" from "er."
Roommate: *Nodding sagely to herself. Uh huh. Is he cute?
Me: *Mentally weighing my options.* On the one hand, we have hurt feelings and "I will smother you in your sleep with a pillow." On the other hand, we have a perfectly rational and pre-made explanation for where I go and why I'm gone. Self-preservation kicks in. Only, it does it in true auroleus fashion, and does so in the most self-destructive way possible.* ...Maybe.
Roommate: *Even more gleeful, which I hadn't actually thought possible.* You do have a boyfriend!
Me: Not really. More like ... a friend. Who's a boy.
Roommate: Uh huh. What's he look like? What's his name? Have we met him?
Me: *Plaintive.* Must we have this conversation?
Roommate: Yes! Female Housemate, come here!
Me: Oh, dear Fates, I'm doomed.
And so on, and so forth. There was grilling, a little more creative distorting of the truth, and the end result, which was their complete and utter conviction that I'm going over for booty calls, or some such. (Strangely enough, I didn't lead them into that. *Shudders.* They came up with that one all on their own and refuse to let go of the idea, despite frequent and occasionally violent attempts to teach them otherwise.)
DISCUSSION:
My male flatmates - the other set of roommates - know about this and find it hilarious. So, unfortunately, does most of the rest of my acquaintanceship.
crotalorumaurum: *Inquiringly.* Tell me, is up down in your world? And don't give me some science-y explanation about how it is in some places, 'cause I already know about that.
auroleus: Maybe? *Pauses.* So this friend of my flatmates is coming up for a weekend. I'm thinking of borrowing him to bring home to my roommates. (The rationale behind this being: my roommates will think there's a boy, and none of my flatmates have to worry about being randomly accosted. Everybody wins!)
crotalorumaurum: This is going to blow up in your face.
auroleus: Oh, completely. But it's going to be really funny.
crotalorumaurum: Just one problem. How are you going to stop the two of them from acting really gay around one another? (crotalorumaurum has met both guys, just for the record. So she's familiar with the way that you'd totally think they were dating if you were just watching them, despite the fact that they're both straight. Mostly because they say things like, "Baby, that wasn't what you said last night" to each other with completely straight faces and it is hilarious.)
auroleus *Ponders this. ... That could be a problem, yeah.
crotalorumaurum: Well, it's that or your roommate decides you're in a threesome with two gay guys.
auroleus: *Determinedly.* I'll just borrow him for twenty minutes. Alone. Separate-like. To avoid that.
crotalorumaurum: This is still going to backfire spectacularly, you do know that right?
Strangely enough, it didn't. I brought both of the guys over to grab stuff from my other place ("Because you need to protect me from my roommate. I mean it. She's going to threaten me with another Girl's Night In, and then I'll have to commit sepukku and it will be all your fault for letting me go to my doom by myself.") Male flatmate was there, female flatmates were absent. It was strangely anti-climatic.
But, hey, I discovered I can make egg-rolls from scratch and have them turn out alright, so the evening wasn't a total bust.
Of course, I haven't seen my female flatmates long enough to be razzed by them, so they may yet threaten me with another Girls Night In. This also may yet backfire spectacularly. We'll see.