Roommate
Totes lived with a girl like this in college.  (Photo credit: naraekim0801)

Anyone who has ever used Craigslist to find a new roommate or a new place to live knows that it’s a crapshoot. Once someone came to our interview saying she was really glad I had laundry machines, because “I just hate having to go to laundromats, because then all your clothes smell like a Mexican.”

Yikes.

With trepidation, I began pouring over the ads here in North Carolina. And people are indeed CRAZY. One place was covered in filth, including a dead cockroach on the floor, and laundry all over the living room. One girl was verrrry mellow….I think her recent ACL surgery and all the meds that come with it made for a pretty lowkey girl. She was kind – texted me before I came that she hadn’t showered in a week, so don’t judge – but the area was just a little sketch. There were also a few places my mom refused to get out of the car for, so…there was that. :)

my new place!!! <3
my new place!!! <3

But I found a delightful little spot in kinda-far-from-everything Durham (and sadly twenty minute drive from boyfriend)….the kind of place straight out of “The Notebook.” Kids get off the bus and run home, everyone waves at you from the car, wraparound decks, sweet tea and porch swings, and fireflies at night (for which I have specially purchased the ubiquitous mason jar, all the better to collect you with!).

My roommates are a 29 year old female nurse who seems bright and friendly, and an older man of indiscriminate age; a lawyer slash actor (my Gma said “isn’t that the same thing?”) who won me over with his enthusiasm for Shakespeare and composting.

My other two roommates are cats. Here is a video demonstrating Me and my ineptitude with the cats.

I believe the Lord sent me to this house to prove to me that I don’t like cats. There’s your wet food, the scratching at my window screens at night to let you in, the sneaking up on me with your silent paws. There’s the hair I find in the coffee grounds in the AM or in my wine at night. There’s worrying about you at night when you don’t come home, wondering what you’re thinking, and why you only want to be petted while I’m peeing.

These are fun to get.
These are fun to get.

But I love my neighborhood, and I get my own sweet room, light grey with white trim…and tons of wall holes graciously left by previous tenant (along with clumps of her weave and, I kid you not, a TOENAIL.) I have a huge walk-in closet AND, the one thing any girl ever wants, my own bathroom. :) There is nothing like being able to do your makeup, read US Weekly on the toilet, or curl your hair in absolute peace. I have to go upstairs and share the shower space with the male….but its relatively clean, and whenever I think to be bothered, I remember all the times I showered with cockroaches or crabs in Belize, or with a bucket over the ocean Panama, or in a lake that also served as a community toilet in Guatemala, and I am grateful for the occasional hair and moldy shower mat. Things I can deal with.

What can I say. I like trees.
What can I say. I like trees.

I’ve started decorating my room…a bed, lovely sheets, hung up my tree and lit candles of sage and lemongrass. And I’m just nesting. I sleep in, take long walks to the lake, read books, send off job applications, and eat a lot. Ross is pretty busy with school, I haven’t done much to make friends, and I can’t leave the house without using Siri to tell me where to go. It’s terrifying and I’ve cried almost every day, but I know that I will get to the good part soon. Until then, everyone in Durham is so friendly and in awe of the long drive I took for love to get here and I get a lot of “Weeeellcommmme!!! Gawd BLESS Youuuuu!” (everything has more syllables in North Carolina) from every sweet lady I meet.

Thanks to all those who have been so encouraging with the texts and thoughts and prayers and things. It is felt with more emotion than I can admit.

<3

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