Well, I know I promised a travel update from our recent trip around the province of Ulster in Ireland and our day in Dublin with you, however, I also wanted to use this blog to talk about anything else that might be inspiring my fancy… and this is one of those topics: the oddities of being roommates.
Now, this has come up recently in my life, because my parents extended their hospitality once more, to a dear friend of theirs who was moving. (To clarify, my “family” consists of – my parents, myself and my husband Derek, my brother and his Mrs., as well as our youngest brother; we all live together at the moment because we all moved to Northern Ireland at the same time, and figured we would be better off sharing a property thus saving rent and utility costs until we are all settled, etc.) …
Moving on… my very generous parents invited a friend of theirs to come and live with us during his transition since he has moved here as well (in his case, from Germany). So far so good… it is important to note that I am not here to vent, or point fingers or slag anyone… I just wish to explore the oddity that arrises when you live with someone whom you think you know; you realize that you don’t actually know them as well as you think you do.
For example, this new room mate of ours seems to lack, what I would best describe as basic social graces. He won’t come to dinner when invited, but will then rather rudely interject when he realizes others have subsequently chosen to eat without inviting him. This is just the tip of the iceberg, but as I said, no venting… This whole thing just reminds me of when I first moved in with Derek and his friends that he was living with at the time. There were habits I could live with (such as our roommates having messy bedrooms as long as there was no mould growing in there) and others that I could not. (Roommates who took their dirty man-socks off anywhere and everywhere for me pick up after.) On the same token, I am pretty sure the guys who were happily living in their bachelor pad, minding their own business, were not particularly thrilled to have a neat freak girl with a cleaning problem, move into their space, chasing all the skillfully cultivated dustbunnies out of the artistically structured tin-can cities in which they lived, with million dollar views over the mountains of McPizzaWaste.
Anyways… moving in with friends, lovers and family, is something that we should always consider carefully before just leaping in and thinking that it’ll be “oh so much fun”, since sometimes it can cause unforeseeable, and often times irrevocable damage to valued relationships. Do you like singing along to your music while you do dishes at 9 am? The guy who worked the night shift won’t thank you for it… okay, 10 pm then… oops, now you’re treading on the gentle toes of those with regular 9 – 5 schedules.. Living with roommates is great, really, you’re never alone, you can share costs, meals and have a great laugh but only if your lifestyles (Vegan vs. Carnivorous) and schedules (Students with part time DJ jobs vs. young professional with office responsibilities) match up.
I don’t think that I have much of a point to make really, at least not without thoroughly investigating past experiences and maybe even measuring them up to those of a few others… but given that right now another dear relationships is suffering the bombardment of misunderstanding and varying social expectations, I just wanted to pose my musings here.
Have any of you ever had great or bad (or both?) types of roommate experiences? Please let me know!
Take care. xoxo