Roomies

Having roommates can mean a lot of compromises in your daily routine. When you live with people, you might have to be a little quieter during the throes of passion, or a little more on top of cleaning the shower, but if you manage not to live with crazy people, it’s definitely worth it for the camaraderie, not to mention the tripled CD, book and DVD collections.

Everyone knows that the best part of living alone is that you can walk around naked after getting out of the shower for as long as you like, which is especially nice in the summer. I had lived alone ever since college, and I was pretty comfortable with my post-shower routine, so I was a little apprehensive about moving to New York and having roommates again. I really lucked out, as I’ve somehow happened upon the nicest people, people who will get you on the list for your favorite band’s show, people who will hang up birthday balloons while you sleep, people who will call you on the phone at work and when you say hello, they say, “What’s your favorite kind of cookie?” and then when you walk in the door a few hours later, there’s a whole batch of them fresh from the oven. I live with people who will let you taste test each recipe they’re submitting to the Pillsbury Bake-Off, people who have the good sense enough to select boyfriends who will bring home the Freaks & Geeks box set, people who will devise a way to spike the 100 juice boxes you bought for your party, and people who will drink said spiked juice boxes until they have to puke, puke, and never miss a beat in the conversation. I live with people who will come out to the show with you, enjoy the free Rheingold until it’s gone, hail a cab at 4 am, tuck you into your bed with a glass of water after helping you undress, and then compliment you on your underwear the next morning.

This weekend we’re losing one of those people to another city, and I’m so sad to see her go. Here’s to you, Laura Reese. A lovelier girl who can hold her liquor like a champion and yet never ever swears has never lived. Look alive, Chicago. You’re getting a real keeper.