Living with men

I just cleaned my new roommate’s whiskers from our bathroom sink. I knew somewhere deep inside he had made some sort of mess in the bathroom, either because I’m an Operating Thetan level III (that’s an obscure Scientology joke implying I’m telepathic), or someone just told me he did. \nLiving with men isn’t my favorite thing, though the ones I’ve lived with are of that brother/father archetype, whatever that means, and their messiness might not be indicative of the entire gender. And besides the occasional but horrific instances of a clogged toilet, guys are almost tolerable. Except all the male friends I have and their bathrooms that I can barely enter without gagging. Think campground latrine. Then jump into that unwelcoming pit. It’s exactly like that. \nSo, like most of those returning this fall, I’m settling into the give and take of living with a roommate of the male persuasion. I clean sheared whiskers from sink; he makes the DVD player work. Who knew the cables plugged into the front of the TV weren’t supposed to be plugged into the back too? Clearly, our slightly incestuous TV cords were a cry for a sense of completion in this world of yearly move-ins and changing schedules. \nCertainly there are some things to be aware of when living with a guy. For one, they have no concept of changing the toilet paper roll. Since they are not required to sit down for all bathroom visits, guys lack a toilet seat frame of reference where the roll is of utmost importance. Then there’s the issue of what we call “happy time” over here at the Sympathy house, when I’m barred from entering my roommate’s room. I may get invited to the Jane Fonda work-out sessions, but “happy time” is a solo affair – which I totally respect. Unfortunately, it results in the convenient placement of Vaseline on his bed that my dad so aptly pointed out last week.\nThere are also the culinary improvisations, where your round cake pan becomes a baking dish for a submerged shank of beef. \nBut beyond the general passive aggressiveness of living with a new person, (apparently, continually pulling the shower curtain closed after his showers doesn’t seem to be the best way of telling him I hate exposed tubs), there’s that eventual realization about the people you’ve left – friends back home, graduated but unemployed boyfriends and garden variety hangers-on. So despite a new living situation, there’s still a past that has a silly way of reappearing. \nWe’re afforded a lot of beginnings in college and chances not to make bad Scientology jokes. Still, there’s always an end to tie up, hold on to or let go of. Not everything gets strung along. Deal with the fraying ends before getting wound up in a new semester. Just don’t clip them into the sink.