So, once upon a time, I used to blog. Back in 2005 or so, I blogged everyday about my horrible living conditions in a dorm at some unnamed university. Don’t misinterpret what that means – the dorm room itself was decent enough and, from what I remember, newly renovated at the time. However, the roommate that came attached to a particular room was far from great.
This all does have a point. I’m wary of blogs to a degree because the internet tends to suffer from a small-town syndrome. No matter how vague you write, no matter what you say, who you say it to, who you say it about, when it comes to the Internet, doesn’t it seem that the person you least want reading your blog ends up being on it? Well, that happened to me back in 2005 and it’s actually a rather amusing story that also has a moral or lesson at the end. So, here we go …
I’m not a fan of alcohol or drugs or any substance really. I know, I’m a just a barrel of fun at parties. At this particular college, I found out they were offering substance-free living. This was pre-Celebrity Rehab and I had no issues or addictions to escape from. I genuinely thought Substance-Free living on a college campus was a pretty nifty idea and that I’d end up with a roommate that I got along with and could relate to. A roommate who didn’t drink, who didn’t want to try to see me get drunk? (Note: In my college experiences, most of my roommates after one week would proclaim they wanted to see me get drunk, to which I’d reply in a very Spock-manner “That is highly unlikely). Anyways, I got accepted into the dorm (yes, people, you actually had to sign up for and be accepted into Substance-Free living. As if there would be a long waiting line?). I ended up with the most horrid, annoying roommate … and I’ve had some pretty bad roommate experiences (A roommate once fell on me while I was sleeping and he was drunk; a drunk girl made it into our room and threatened she’d stay unless I kissed her; I ended up with a roommate who snorted adderall and asked how to say certain phrases in ebonics so he could communicate with ‘our people’ (aka, BLACK PEOPLE).
Months passed and living in Substance-Free was not all I thought it’d be. Turns out people weren’t really all that substance-free in this place! Imagine! So, here was good ol’ boy me holed up with a big bear of a roommate who seriously looked to be about 10 or 20 years my senior, who slept during the day or hours when the sun was out because he worked nights, who wouldn’t let me use the fridge because he brought it and never cleaned it and kept it stocked full of wine coolers and beer. On top of that, he never cleaned his side of the room which gave the room a nice aroma of decay and fungus. MMmmmm, smell that? It’s my student loan being wasted! The resident advisor could see that I wasn’t at all pleased or happy. Perhaps it was the fact I tried to find as many activities to stay out of the room. Or that I’d skip out on any hall meetings or activities? Oh no, maybe it was that warm and welcoming frown I wore most of the time I spent in that wretched room. I told him my issues but he told me just give it time. Bear (my horrid roommate) was a nice guy, he should know, they’d been friends for a while! Know what that meant? No help from the RA. So, my response? I blogged about my horrible living conditions. I exposed Bear for the wonderful (sarcasm of course) roommate he was, praised (ha, not) the RA for his wonderful show of concern and action.
One day, I walked into the room and found a note from housing. I’d been called to the office of the community manager. Turns out Bear had come across my blog and printed it out and read it. Reportedly, I’d made Bear cry! That really tore me up inside. Not really from sadness or remorse but from laughing my behind off. Suddenly, I was the bad guy! I was the roommate from Hell! The posting that really sent Bear over-the-top seemed to be one where I took a picture of him and put my graphic design skills I was learning in class to work by putting a circle around his head and scribbling “I’m with Stupid” beside him. This was before Perez Hilton made it trendy to draw drool dots and penises on celebrity photos – see, I’m quite the innovator.
After much hoopla, it was decided that we could not live together. I was going to be moved to another room in the Substance-Free community. Oh joy. It did come with a few conditions. Bear wanted me to post an apology on my Blog for all to see and gander at. Of course, the “I’m With Stupid” post had to come down. Any posts about Useless Resident Advisor of the Year had to come down because his feelings were hurt as well. Well, I agreed to do some of it but then I pulled out an old card most of just journalist use. As I sat before Jabba da Community Manager (she was a whopper, trust me), I told her I’d do some of this out of the kindness of my heart but asked her, “What about my first Amendment rights?” I also told her I really didn’t feel remorseful for what I did considering I acted because of how the housing office failed me. I was being accused of violating some housing clause that everyone must be happy and get along at ALL times. Now, what fantasy world did this clause come from? Probably the same one that gave people like G.W. Bush the right to declare war when he had a hard time grasping the English language.
Well, I was exiled to the farthest reaches of the university’s campus to a vacant room. Yes, they determined I wouldn’t do well with others so gave me a double room all to myself! It was wonderful. I had a whole room to myself, didn’t have to deal with roommates, was able to go to sleep whenever I wanted, study without distractions. Best of all, I was able to come in after classes and watch ‘Dynasty’ on SoapNet and get my Joan Collins fix for the day. The lesson in all of this? Blogs probably shouldn’t be anyone’s soapbox to bitch and complain about all the idiocy that happens in the world. But still, speaking out and calling out the flaws in the world sometimes leads to some pretty good things. I know, not the pretty and neat lesson I should have learned from this situation but then again, I’m pretty hard headed.
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