If you’re reading this, and you’re looking to steal my collection of old bobby pins, this is all you need to know: I HAVE SEVEN FOOTBALL PLAYER ROOMMATES AND THREE DOGS WHOSE FAVORITE GAME IS “WHO CAN BITE OFF THE MOST ARMS?!” If you are not a home-invader, carry on reading.
Last weekend I challenged myself and cooked coq au vin in honor of it being Julia Child’s birthday. A few conclusions I have drawn:
- It is hard to say ‘coq au vin’ and not feel comically pretentious unless you are 1) Julia Child, 2) a French person, or 3) joking.
- Raw chicken is a special kind of horrifying.
- When a recipe calls for you to ignite cognac in a pan, it would be nice to have a roommate.
I was afraid of catching on fire. I tend to flail around when everything is fine, so I don’t suspect I would do well when faced with a coq-au-vin-fire, otherwise known as le fire. A roommate could help me put out the fire. A roommate could flying-leap me out of the way when the flames got too big. A roommate could throw blankets at me and yell, “STOP, DROP AND ROLL! STOP, DROP AND ROLL!” Or, a roommate could point and laugh while I really smoothly and cooly yell at the fire to “STOPIT.”
Contrary to my introvert leanings, as someone who frequently and audibly relishes having a space of my very own, I have recognized a lot recently that there are moments when a partner in crime would be nice:
- A roommate calls you out and says, “NO! Don’t buy the skinny-jean-overalls online. They will be horrible, and you will hate yourself.”
- A roommate won’t lose the key to the mailbox. Not that I did, but…I totally did.
- A roommate will water the plants when you’re too tired and watching MASH and the plants are just too far away at their distance of 10 feet and “don’t all plants die anyway?”
- A roommate will cut your taking-out-the-trash, cleaning-the-kitchen, talking-to-the-neighbors rate in half.
- A roommate usually comes with at least one major kitchen appliance that you don’t have and now, don’t have to buy!
- A roommate can investigate the weird creaking from the other room that you’re pretty sure is robbers but is in fact, your jenga tower made of yogurt containers in your refrigerator finally falling over. BUT IF IT WAS ROBBERS, THANK GOODNESS FOR MY THREE VICIOUS ROBO-DOGS! (that’s right, they’re also robots. They’re terminator-dogs.)
I’ve had great roommates in the past. I’ve also had major duds. There was the roommate who waited until the first moment I opened my door to tell me the internet wasn’t working, and I “need to call Time Warner.” She had a phone! There was the roommate who put old food in the recycle bin, and then lectured me when I threw things away that could have been recycled. Clearly I did not understand her system. There was the roommate who told me I’d be attractive “if I didn’t wear such granny clothes.” Just because you don’t appreciate a cardigan doesn’t mean I’m a “granny.” It just means I’m not chilly at that moment, and I bet you are, dummy! At the prospect of getting a roommate, their faces flash through my mind and I am reminded that my apartment is a mess, but it’s my mess, and leave me alone about it! But sometimes, sometimes, I see the point of having one around.
*Draft #1 of the Friends theme song.