From Guest Writer Elaine Ryan: TTI had a horrifying roommate (TW Ed Sheeran).
Freshman year—what a time to be alive. For many, including myself, it’s your first time living with a roommate. Everyone expects their first-year roommate to become their best friend. You’ll do everything together: go to class, get falafel and rice at the Halal cart, and walk in Riverside park. I’m sad to say this wasn’t the case for me. Looking back, my roommate was definitely not a good match. Barnard usually does a fantastic job of pairing you with someone you’d get along with. However, mine was insane. This is the story of the time I had a terrible roommate.
The first week was great. We bonded over our shared name and style. We dyed our hair red. We gossiped about crushes. We complained about NSOP. She seemed great. She seemed normal. Boy, was I wrong.
Constantly blasting music, this girl never gave me peace. I begged her to be quiet. Even worse, she left the room constantly smelling of wax. She was really into making wax sculptures, Madame Tussaud style. You could smell our room down the hall. The wax, oh the wax. Beeswax has a specific and pungent smell that I personally am not a fan of. Apparently, she was. One day I asked her what she was making and she was super secretive about it. Later when I was swiffering our room, I found it: a miniature wax sculpture of myself. I was terrified. Who does this girl think she is to make a sculpture of me without asking? I guess I must have a fan on Brooks floor 7!
Furthermore, this girl could not decorate for her life. She flung up poster after poster, and photo after photo in an attempt to make her room look aesthetic. She did not succeed. Someone needs to teach her a valuable lesson in color theory as every item of décor was a different color and pointed to a different style. Her side of the room was appalling. I tried to make our room look the best it could, but how can you make up for a Peanuts wall full of Snoopy and Charlie Brown and a Zayn Malik shrine? I don’t think it’s possible to be as obsessed with Zayn Malik as this girl was. She put photo after photo of him up, the most notable was a photo of him holding a dog that she had front and center in our dorm. What made it worse was the One Direction pillowcase she had where she crossed out every other member’s face and just left Zayn. I would wake up in the middle of the night and see the eyes of Zayn Malik staring directly into my soul. It was hard to get any sleep with that man looking at me all night. No matter how many vines and fairy lights you add to a wall, some design choices can’t be fixed.
Now moving on to what I deem the worst aspect of living with her (TW Ed Sheeran): she was a sheerio. I’m not kidding. She had a multiply (X) flag hanging on her wall that she must have gotten at a concert when she was younger. When she would study, she would play “Galway Girl” on repeat. That was the real sign that made me think there is something deeply wrong with her. Who listens to Ed Sheeran? Why would you listen to Ed Sheeran? What purpose does that man serve in anyone’s life? It was so difficult to sleep when the muffled sounds of “Don’t”—which is surprisingly written about Niall Horan—blasted from the other side of the room.
I genuinely doubt anyone had it worse than me. Actually, no, no one had it worse than me. Friends would complain to me about roommates who never left or never cleaned. You’re really going to compare that to an Ed Sheeran fan? No. Nothing could be worse than that. She was absolutely insufferable to be around and I couldn’t stand her presence.
Now that we’re back on campus I catch a glimpse of her every day, reminding me of my first year. I’ve even seen her in the bathroom and when I pass in front of a window. I wish I never had to see her again, but how can you avoid your own reflection? So if you think you had it rough in a quad, imagine how it was to live in a single.
No Love for Sheeran, with Brooks Hall via Barnard and Ed Sheeran via Wikimedia Commons