Now that I had the topic squared away, I needed a title for the series. Something catchy (Joanna’s series is aptly titled “Motherhood Mondays”). “My Roaring 20s” sounded fun but also made it sound like I live a life like Beyonce’s — all glamorous and private planes and mini bar indulgences — so I toned it down a little to make it more accurate. And there you have it: the whole story on how this little series came to be. For my first post, I’d like to talk about living with boys and having a platonic boy roommate, which I did my senior year of college.
In my senior year of college, for a few reasons that left me without a place to live a few weeks before school began, I found myself living with three boys named John, Lawrence, and Keith in a spacious (relatively speaking) 2-bedroom apartment. Keith and I shared a room and Lawrence and John shared the other. If you were to ask me today if I could share a room with a boy with whom I had a non-romantic relationship, I’d probably say I couldn’t. That I liked to be in my underwear too much and all that kind of stuff. But back then, it didn’t feel weird at all to be sharing a room with a guy I barely knew. This could have either been because they were all in the engineering department (Keith was even in a fraternity named Triangle) or because they were just really nice guys. It was probably a little bit of both.
Our schedules were such that we often made dinner together. Keith would make one of the four things within his repertoire — bean and cheese burritos, pasta, a bowl of cereal, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich — while I would make one of the three things within my repertoire — frozen pad thai from Trader Joe’s, soy tacos, or a bowl of cereal — and then we’d sit down to eat while discussing all of life’s greatest matters. He would tell me about how much he liked his girlfriend, and I would tell him about the incredible nap I took in the library between classes. Sometimes I’d ask his opinion on the current boy I was dating, and he’d always tell me honestly if he thought they were duds (most of them were).
I wasn’t as close to the other boys in the apartment, but we still got along well. Sometimes we’d all go to Triangle’s frat parties as a sort of roommate bonding event where we would drink keg beer and solve differential equations. (Just kidding. About the beer.)
It was a different dynamic than when I’d lived with girls, and each situation had its own pros and cons. In some ways, living with the boys felt like less of a competitive environment, and I never heard any of them calling any of the other guys fat (which, sadly, I witnessed one of my previous girl roommates do), but I still missed having women around and getting their perspective on my thoughts and ideas. I wonder if I didn’t live with Alan now if I’d choose to live with boys, girls, or a mix? Or maybe alone?
Who do you live with and do you have a preference?