The Big Move...Again

We finally got approved!

Matt and I have been looking for an apartment for ages now. I’ll spare you the monotonous details about what it took to get this place, but let’s just say by the end of it our new landlady already hates us.

Whenever I tell people I’m moving in with my boyfriend, they get all excited and let out their “Oooooooh!”s and the “Oh my God that’s such a huge step!”s and “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”s. But honestly, it’s really not a big deal. Of course I love the guy and want to take this next step, but really, I’d love to be anywhere but where I’ve been for the last five years.

In 2004, it was my first year in university and luckily my 83 per cent average in high school landed me a room in residence. “Dry rez”, since I was only 17, but I was just glad to be there. I made some good friends that year – some lasting friendships for sure – but I hated my roommate. The first few months were all right, but after we all came back from Christmas break, things went way downhill. She had her boyfriend over every night (keep in mind the rooms are about 13” by 14”…aka a shoe box) and were not shy to express their love while I was sleeping 5 feet away. Let’s just say I hate Kraft Dinner now. She stole my clothes and my food. She kept me up all night, knowing I had class early the next morning. I tried to spend as little time in my room as possible, so when April finally came around I was relieved.

The next year, I lived with three girlfriends. While this was probably the best year of the five, one friendship was destroyed. Moving in with friends can be an invitation for disaster. It started even before we moved in together – “J” demanded one of the bigger rooms merely because she thought she had the most stuff (bullshit). I spent the majority of the first month cleaning, painting, and buying house supplies all by myself (and mom). Did I get a thanks? Hahaha, riiiiight. All three of them were smokers. So, when winter came around, who was stuck getting ganged up on when I insisted they smoke outside? Sorry girls, but you know you did that. Someone’s mayonnaise went missing and for some reason it was blamed on me. It was that petty argument that convinced me that if we all stayed living together, we would end up hating each other. So while they all went home for the summer, I moved in with….wait for it…. My dad. Oops.

I love you, Dad, but living with you again SUCKED. He didn’t do anything specific, but kids, it’s exactly what you would think being free for almost three years then moving back in with a parent would be like. Yes I came home late last night. No I didn’t clean my room. Yes I had a bagel. I’m sorry, I forgot to clean my bowl. Yes I got off work early – would it kill you and Kim to keep the loving to the bedroom when your daughter could be home any minute???

So when my friend Stew told me there was a free room available in his place, I jumped at the chance. In January of 2007 I moved to where I’m living now. Stew left last May and I was stuck with my weird, creepy roommate and two strangers. This is by far the worst of them all. Take the last three years and combine them. I painted the place from a disgusting royal blue and puke yellow to “Distant Mountain” and “Misty Morning”. Not one thank you. I spent hours cleaning it every week, only to have it all messed up two days later from one of their frequent parties. I was up all night whenever “K”’s boyfriend was over. Thin walls, people! This is a co-op! Food and milk went missing. Passive aggressive notes went up. Once the weird roommate even walked right into my room when I had the door shut, saw me, and said, “Oh – you’re home…” and just backed out of the room and shut the door. WTF??? I can go on and on but this post is getting a little long.

Every time I’ve moved I’ve been so excited to go to the next place, only to have it be , well, not so exciting. This time, though, I’ll be vigilant. I’ve spent enough time with Matt to have an idea what he’ll be like as a roommate, and I’m not scared to tell him to smarten up if necessary. You can always change a man, right?