The Closed Off Clean Freak


Note: I love these cleaning wipes from The Dollar Tree. If you’re ever like, hmm…what should I give Kendra for her birthday – it’s these. Lord knows how I’d react if I ever got the brand name ones.

You’d think someone who isn’t comfortable around most would quickly opt for a cabin in the middle of the forest where her only companions were the sounds Mother Nature decided to toss about. Ironically enough I like living with people. Well, person. More than one creates tension and really is a burden on the balance of good and evil when trying to split the bills, house duties and space. Since leaving that trailer out in  Cabazon, I’ve lived with 20 different people (give or take); including a family of four, college roommates and that one time I rented a room in a house with what I know weren’t vampires – but their sleep schedules and active hours could’ve fooled an outsider.

Realistically, I had to make a list to count those up and in all honesty, I knew only a handful of their names because I’m not the kind of person who thinks everyone they come across in life has some meaning and needs to be bookmarked for a future wedding invitation. Cohabitating isn’t an invitation to communicate on a deeper level to me. Yeah, we should be cordial because no one wants to live with a bitch, but do I need to know what motivates you in life and vice-versa? No, sometimes we just need a place to rest our head and keep our shit. Remember, home is more a state of mind than a physical address. I really can’t remember 99% of my college roommates’ names. They’re as memorable as college itself.

In spite of all that, I’ve found living with one person is what suits me. Outside of college I’ve lived with more than one a full two times, and neither of them were for me. So yeah, one-bedroom for two please. Yes, that’s been my reality since leaving college because I’m not sure if you’ve seen the rent prices in LA, but you’d have to be making some major bank to afford privacy in this city. Which is something me and my roommate of what seems like 25 years never really needed for a long time.

We met when she was merely 17, and before you call Chris Hansen – we didn’t live together until she was in college. We came across one another in line for a show and a year or so later we roomed together in the dorms for half a semester. Then the summer after college came (that period in your 20’s where you’re either set, or you’re screaming WHAT DO I WITH MY LIFE? – I am currently still screaming and a little hoarse) and I knew I didn’t want to live in the desert forever – so I think it was on a trip to see Limp Bizkit (for free so don’t judge but I have since paid to see them in LA…by myself, so go ahead and laugh at that one) in Vegas that we decided I’d move back to the big city and find a place with her so she could avoid the dorms she loathed more than men in New Balances.

*Shows means concert in our world and we met at Gym Class Heroes at The Knitting Factory. RIP great venue, RIP.

*Shows means concert in our world and we met at Gym Class Heroes at The Knitting Factory. RIP great venue, RIP.

I was never one for opening up about my day or asking others conversational cliches, so over time I knew I had to be a social burden. This is likely due to never having that exchange growing up. We didn’t race home from our days, sit around the dinner table and share. We came home, went to our respective rooms and watched TV – visiting one another once in awhile during commercial breaks. While I can’t say I am the perfect person to come home to if you’re into talking about your day (I’m more a listener than a responder anyways), I must pat myself on the back for being one of the tidiest people you’ll ever room with.

Some may say I have a lot of stuff, but I didn’t get to keep a room back at my mom’s. A shrine was not kept in my honor as I went off to fight the higher educational war, so whatever was left behind took shelter in a shed and the rest was packed up and taken to the valley. Unlike the one in Land Before Time, this one is far less green. All that aside, despite the amount I am quite neat with it all. Everything has a place and Hoarders is a show I could never be on because organization gives me life. I will even organize a stranger’s home if left there alone too long.

Closed off but a clean freak, I am not perfect roommate material in the sense that life with me will not be like an episode of Friends. However, in reality I am like Monica because things will always be kept, but like The Big Bang Theory’s Sheldon Cooper, I will often never have more than a blunt response to relay because social cues for socialization aren’t listed on my resume under the “Skills” section – but hey, I love doing dishes. No really, after years of hating doing them growing up…it’s now my favorite household chore. I bet my mom wishes that realization would’ve come a lot sooner, sorry mom! But I do wash them every time I visit now, so that’s got to count for something.


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