Open letter to my roommate

Dear roommate-for-whom-I-might-break-the-law,

            I know that we were friends before you moved in, but I was still pretty nervous. I've had a number of mortifying housing situations and was scared that you would turn out to be crazy. You are crazy, but by that I mean crazy-awesome. You are, as it turns out, the best thing since sprouted whole grain bread. You are the coolest thing since Ben & Jerry's. You are so awesome that you have driven me to think of a list of ways that I might kidnap you so that when it comes time for me to move, you are in the back of my car, next to my keyboard. Unfortunately, I have yet to come up with a plan of action that I think would succeed and besides that I think it's probably illegal or something, hence the part about breaking the law. I know I'd be violating your autonomy in some major way and I don't think I could bring myself to do that. I just want you to know that, out of my love for you, I have thought about it. Often.

             Anyhow. I'd like to thank you for putting up with a few things that might have been slightly, if not extremely, irritating:

•  I've posted several facebook statuses about things that you've said and I've never even asked for permission. You should know that I only do this because you are awesome and the world needs to know; posting a facebook status is about as close as I can get to announcing something to the entire world. 
• I know I'm a morning person and I sometimes clatter whilst baking in the kitchen pre-sunrise or else shout a chipper greeting at you as soon as you emerge from your room. I just wanted to put some joy into your mornings and I'm sorry if this ever had the opposite effect. 
•  I realize that you're not much of a "hugger", so thanks for all those times you let me hug you when I was having a bad day. Or more recently, as I've been forcing long embraces every time I think about the fact that we will soon be parting.
• Lastly, I'm sorry for that month where I blasted the Tarzan soundtrack from my room almost every day. It's just that one day last fall, I realized that Phil Collins was life-changing. I couldn't stop listening to it, which I'm sure you remember well. I hope that you will always think of me when you listen to Phil Collins as I will always think you whenever I hear this. I also hope that, one day, you experience the joy of Phil Collins.

               Although we will be going separate ways in less than a month, you will always be in my heart, and yes, yes I did steal that line from Tarzan. But I meant it 100%. I am sad, but I know that we'll keep in touch. If you do not keep in touch, I will send you a skull in the mail. OK. It will most likely be a poorly-drawn picture of a skull, but it will look threatening and will be accompanied by a really sappy poem. So keep in touch, ok?

You are the apple to my peanut butter, or something like that, and I love you.

N

         

      

Video of the week

This song did not strike me the first time I heard it, but like most songs I become I obsessed with, I fell in love with it several listens later. The video is pretty cool as well.

Is this real life?

            Since my mom is a chef I grew up spending a lot of time in various grocery and produce stores. It didn't take long before I was familiar with the layout of each store and my mom was able to send me out to find paprika or garlic or whatever it was that she needed. It only took until I was 15 for all of the creepers in these stores to notice my existence. It wasn't a constant thing, but I started to notice men staring at me sometimes. I thought I was imagining things, but one day a man in the produce store approached my mom. "Is that your daughter?" He indicated towards me and smiled. "Yes," my mom said. "That's my daughter." "She is very beautiful," he said and nodded in my direction. I suppose that if, maybe every once in a while, a friend wanted to tell me I was beautiful, that would be cool. Somehow though, when a complete stranger decides to tell my mom that he's attracted to me, I have an urge to immediately cover myself with a potato sack. Whenever things like this happen to me, I always question what I'm wearing. To my dismay, however, I am usually not in a dress or wearing any makeup at all. So naturally, wearing a potato sack is the first idea that comes to mind.
             I guess that nothing like this had happened to me for a while, so I was feeling pretty safe, pretty invisible. I was driving by Goodwill and I decided to stop in to look at books.  I just wanted to look at books. I had only been standing in the aisle for about 10 seconds when the man next to me started talking to me. He wasn't saying anything rude, so I talked to him a little bit, hoping that the conversation would soon be cut short.  I would give quick replies and turn away from him, angling myself so that I was facing the books so as to cut off the conversation. He kept talking, however, and proceeded to tell me everything about his family that I never wanted to know. I continued to smile, because I could only think of one escape response. "Hi...I, uh, I have to go ignore you now." I didn't think that I could say this, so I stared at the books while continuing the awkward small talk. Apparently he must have thought we really bonded over our shared preference for warmer weather, so he asked me for my number. All I could think was, is this really happening right now? "Um...no. No, I don't really give out my number to strangers." He said that he understood, but then he proceeded to ask me out on a date. I stood for a second and waited for something intelligent to come to mind, but instead I continued to stutter."Uh. I, uh...No!! Uh, no." He continued to ask me, even saying please over and over. I told him that I really didn't know him at all and wouldn't feel comfortable giving him my number, which is when he told me the location of each of his family members. I'm not entirely sure why he thought this would help. Was he expecting this to change my mind? "Hold up. Your uncle lives in New York? This changes everything." I said 'no' once again. He then told me that he wanted to be "more than friends." "But, we're not friends," I was quick to point out. In the middle of Goodwill, for crying out loud. I told him that I would say "hi" if I ever saw him again and fled the store.
            He looked hopeful at this, so I'm pretty sure that I said the wrong things. I just wasn't sure how to get out of it without literally running away. It's not as though the situation seemed drastic enough for me start yelling or to use pepper spray or something. I didn't have pepper spray with me and I also wondered if I could get into trouble for spraying someone just because he asked me for my number. Is that allowed? If it is, it certainly seems drastic. Could I get reported for something like that?
            Officer: "So...tell me what happened."
            Me: "Well, he started telling me about his dad and I was like whoa! T.M.I., man!"
          
            I don't really know, but all of this only serves to confirm my fear that I attract only creepers.

            PS-If my mom or any of my mom's friends are reading this-do not fear! Although I am hoping that there will not be a next time where I am bothered by such a creepster, I have thoughts of alternative plans of action.
            Alternative plan #1: Next time I will be sure to cause an upheaval and bolt out of the building at the first hello, shoving everything in sight out of my way. I think I'd yell 'fire' on the way out. Oh, wait, except I think that's illegal.
            Alternative plan #2: I will bring a real or else imagined boyfriend with me and keep him close in all public places, sort of like a bodyguard. Of course, this would mean that I would have to bribe a friend or else become a social butterfly immediately so as to persuade someone. There's also the fact that I don't really want anyone to follow me around in public 24/7, which brings me to my final plan.
            Alternative plan #3: I will obtain and save a number from the next creeper and give it out whenever any other creepers decide to ask for my number. This way, they can creep on each other.