Flatmates

I haven’t yet told you of my flat mate situation.  Now, it is generally a good one, but every barrel comes with a bad apple.  All I will say is that she is from Long Island (aka loud, self-centered, and has the audacity to spend Daddy’s money with not a single thought of frugality, and so leaves every light on and uses the drier and the heater without considering the poor nature of the rest of us) and goes to school at CU Boulder (which I don’t understand because you think they’d flat us with as many different people as possible, and I hate how small the world is because she has a friend right next door who I share a mutual friend with back home and who seems to know more about my love life in Colorado than I do.  Because they’re such gossips I’m sure everyone by now does too.  Shit.).  So yes, she’s from Long Island and goes to school in Boulder.  That’s all I said, right?  Well, despite our shared love for Colorado, we have little else in common.  I am, however, happy to be learning from her patience, acceptance, and a willingness to clean up after others so that our other people who didn’t make the mess don’t have to and we all have a comfortable living space. 

My other five flat mates seem to be doing the same.  They are all spectacular.  Mike is my Kiwi host whom I met while I was picking up my flat key.  The minute he walked in the office door and the receptionist said, “Oh, this is your Kiwi host right here,” I knew I might be in for some trouble.  Why did my Kiwi host have to be so darn cute?  Couldn’t he be someone else’s so that it wouldn’t be too devastating if I pursued him?  Well, since that pretty good first impression I have come to learn that he is one of the coolest, most generous, caring, and honest Kiwi hosts I could have been flatted with, which are all great, but we also lack some of the mutual lifestyle choices that I normally look for (and he has a girlfriend).  Thank goodness too or else I would’ve been swallowing a desire for him all semester.  Now, we are just friends and spend quite a bit of time together preparing our Friday night flat mate around-the-world meals and watching Friends. 

Then there’s Peter.  He’s a Swede doing physiological research that will only run through April, at which point he will leave us.  At first glance I noticed that he was a jacked gentle giant who stayed pretty quiet.  Since then, we have come to know each other better, and his sense of humor but also superb observational skills have emerged.  Every time I ask him a question about himself he also always starts the answer with “Yaw.  Vell…” which I find quite entertaining.  I will miss him when he leaves us.

Our third male is a toss up.  Is he gay?  Is he not gay?  No one really knows nor do we care.  Porter is a tall attractive ginger whose flamboyance, whether justifiable or not (he is from southern California and was raised by four sisters mind you), makes every night fun, and every moment alone with him comfortable (even though he’s rarely home as he is too busy spending time with the girls he road tripped to Dunedin with, one of which he proclaims he loves).  He also has enough spunk to stand up for me when grotesque guys at bars and clubs feel up my backside.  My hero.

Saving the best for last, Meaghann is a lifesaver and one of my favorite people I've met here.  I’m so lucky to have her as a flat mate.  She’s sarcastic and witty (which she uses to pick on Mike with to the amusement of the rest of us) and so easy to talk to one on one.  In social situations I find myself feeling guilty for not trying harder to include her because I am so chatty and want to meet new people, but she’s not much for talking right away around people she hasn’t gotten an estimate on yet.  I can’t blame her (as a lot of people around here aren’t always worth the breath), but I can only hope she doesn’t hold any of it against me.  She has no issues getting dirty with me though and willingly comes hiking, kickboxing, dancing, and almost anything else. 

And that’s my flat mate fam.  I wish you could have a piece on what they think of me just so the dynamic made a little more sense.  It’d probably be pretty bad, but the most I can say is, like I feel all international students and roommates in general should do, is I clean up after myself and others, try to say “Hi, how was your day?” and every once and a while do something thoughtful.  The key is for everyone to have a comfortable place they can come home to, even if that means you just have to ignore the smell of rotting apples. 

I'll post a picture when I get ahold of one.