... please do give details about the roommate. Roommates are intensely blog-worthy.Sure.
The roommate, or TR as he's been called elsewhere here (I swear, I'll wrap that story up) is one of my very dearest friends. When I used to go to Lake Placid? That was to see TR. We've known each other at least somewhat since 1993, been close friends since a few years after that. We have seen each other through lots of crap, TR and I, and I love him very much.
But I suck at living with people now. I have lived alone for so long that I seem to have kind of a few control issues about my space. TR's old roommate from Lake Placid (who we will call DS) (the D is for Dreamy) came to visit a few weeks back, and before TR got home from work, DS and I had a beer on the deck.
"Will you miss having TR as a roommate?" he asked.
"Nope," I said, too fast. I quickly amended that: "I mean, I'll miss having him around, like I always do. But I won't miss having someone else living here."
DS made the next leap even quicker than I would have: "What if you someday get involved with someone?"
I went on at some length about how that wasn't going to be the same, if it ever happened, because there'd be some incentive to make living together work. With TR, there's just incentive to keep the friendship alive through five weeks. (It did not occur to me until much later, and by "much later," I mean, "yesterday," that maybe the actual answer is that I can't live with someone I'm involved with and I just don't know it because I haven't tried yet.)
And alive the friendship has remained, even through last week, when we had a million houseguests (and by "houseguests," I mean "members of my extended family") for a whole week.
Here's the kind of guy TR is:
- When my city-dwelling houseguests (see above) locked him out, and he came home at 3 in the morning, rather than disrupt my (or their) sleep by calling to be let in, he slept in his car.
- When I bought ingredients to make Lisa's meatballs so we could eat them together and then forgot about it until the last night he was going to be here, he agreed to spend his last night in town as a meatball guinea pig. (I'll let you know how they are after we eat 'em.)
- When he was looking for activity to procrastinate packing, knowing that he was leaving town, he did not spend that procrastinatey time on the Internet or watching Star Trek. He spent it making home repairs to my house.