Welcome To My Bed

Living with stupid.

I'll be the first to admit that my living situation this year has been less than normal. I started out in a dorm lounge with a roommate I had not foreseen, but we ended up really good friends. Not a month later I moved to a different dorm, the top floor of its third building where there had recently been a flood caused by a faulty sprinkler system. And quick on the heels of this move came James, and I was basically living with him from the day we met. In January a couple of his housemates officially moved out, and then we could officially move in together. And thus has been my living situation ever since.

With all the early turbulence, it seems I should have known it wouldn't be smooth sailing for all of second semester once I settled down. And it took some time, but things are getting crazy again. Right around the time James and I started seeing each other, my best friend Grace started seeing our housemate Sam. Now, Sam is a nice enough guy, or so I thought, but at the age of twenty he has the social skills of someone in middle school and an external locus of control to end all. Nothing could possibly ever be his fault, in a million years. He even finds excuses for his dirty dishes. This relationship was doomed from the start, and mentally, I have been on edge about it from day 1. However, Grace is allowed to do what she wants, as is anyone. The relationship ran its course, yada yada yada, and now Grace and Sam are no longer. Though Sam claims the break-up was mutual, I know better than that.

And all of this explaining brings us to last night, where Sam sees fit to tell me that Grace, even though she and I were friends before we even knew this house existed in the world, was not allowed to come over anymore. He claims that with her here, or even seeing her in the vicinity of the house, that it is no longer a safe space for him. Mind you, she has come over three times since they broke up about a week ago, and two out of those three were when he asked her to come over so that he could either talk to her or immaturely give her back her stuff in a cardboard box as if we all existed on a television sitcom. But of course, it's my fault that he has to see her and deal with the pain that causes him.

I naturally told him he was being ridiculous, and that since I didn't spend any time with her in the common spaces, that he should get over himself. But apparently the threat of possibly passing her in a hallway (which could really happen to him anywhere on campus anyway) was too great, and so he hit me with the zinger of finding a new place to live for the fall. By so doing, he is screwing over his best friend Cassandra, my first roommate from my first room, who was going to share a room with me in the house for next year. I doubt he consulted her. I left her a message last night and hopefully she'll have it out with him sooner rather than later. And then I called Grace, who I will be living with instead. And that guarantees Sam will come nowhere near me. Thank god. Never will I live with such children again.

On a related note, James and I spent a little while last night talking about the mental age of many people we know. Mine is 20, but sometimes 18. And he says that his is 26, but didn't have any concrete evidence to back it up, just a claim that he has the mentality of someone who has been out of college for several years. We didn't discuss Sam's, though I'm sure it would be something far beyond "mentally unavailable".

I do not live in the OC, therefore I do not relish this kind of bullshit. Someone recast my life with better actors.