Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Inspection.

Food. Hair. Syringe Caps. Bobby Pins. Dishes. Nothing.

Those are the things that kept popping up today during our in-depth cleaning of our apartment. We have dorm inspection tomorrow and we have to be up to par or we'll be fined. So we all got together this afternoon and jumped in.

During the laughing, teasing and general fun, Spoon and I found that all of us leave something around the apartment.

"Good grief, I never realized how much of the food in the freezer is mine. Same for the fridge." Spoon said with surprise as she replaced it after her thorough scrub of the refrigerator.

"And the pantry and the cupboards." I thought. Spoon is definitely stocked. If only she were ever home to eat it.

"You know, we all leave something around the apartment. Dot has her hair that is everywhere. You (me) have those little caps (insulin syringe tops). And Hipster has her bobby pins." She pointed out.

"And Sarah has her dishes that are always in the sink. What about Twitch?" I asked.

We both sat for a sec thinking.

"She's not here enough to leave anything around." We decided.


I think having roommates is the best thing in the world. One thing I love about my roommates is our nicknames. Spoon, Dot, Lucky (me), Hipster, Truffle and Twitch.

There's a story behind each that we told when we first sat down and got to know each other. They're based on embarrassing stories, my unusual luck, a bum hip from last year, a commonly used user name on the net, the fact that one can't sit still.
We use them on our chore chart that sits in the living room. Almost every visitor, upon reading our chore board, asks the same question.

"Who the heck is Spoon?"
We point her out.
"WHY is her name Spoon?" They always ask in curiosity.
"Not gonna tell you." Is the pat reply.
"Oh come on. Who am I going to tell?" they'll whine.

"Sorry."

For some reason they can't take no for answer but they will always leave disappointed because none of us will ever tell the hilarious story. I mean, come on, first, we're friends. Second, who in their right mind would snitch on the person you live with? They know where you sleep. I don't want to be murdered in my sleep.

I love nicknames. I've accumulated a few. Stinky, Henry, Grace, Jess, Druggie, Lucky. I cherish them all and they all have memories to go alongside them. I know that I'll always remember my roommate's names with humor in my heart. Just like I'll always think of they, themselves, with humor. I couldn't have been blessed with better roommates.

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