The day I got home from orientation I got my roommate notification and I was sooooo excited. My roommate "Karen" (think Dane Cook's standup) seemed sooo normal. We agreed to meet up and we really hit it off. We went shopping for stuff for the new room and we really bonded. When move-in came, we had by far the sweetest room. That night, Karen and I went out to a party along with her friend Oscar. Within a half hour I witnessed Karen get pretty trashed and really high. I was sober. She started acting annoying, making us jump from party to party really quickly. Thankfully, I ran into my friend Rachel, who I've known for years, and just went off with her and her friends.

Welcome Week continued like this for Karen. She'd go out and get smashed, I'd chill with close friends and maybe go to a good friend's party. Karen came back to the room less and less and chose to hang out with Oscar. For this reason I became good friends with a lot of the people on my floor while no one had a clue who my roomie even was.

A month went by and I pretty much had the room to myself. There had been no roomie bonding and at that point I was hanging out with Rachel and her friends as well as people from the floor so much that I didn't give a shit anymore. Then one day Karen and Oscar got in a fight. She stopped hanging out at his dorm and spent all her time here. She tagged along to lunch and everyone was so intrigued-- it was as if we had a new girl on the floor. Well, the fickle people I hung out with stopped even hanging out with me and flocked to Karen. The solid people on the floor and I hung out, while Karen had no clue who they were and still after a semester hasn't learned all their names.

Karen started to treat the room as just hers. She started moving my stuff when it was sitting on the futon (WHICH IS MINE). I once had to search for 10 minutes for my MCard because she threw it into my hamper. It got worse. If papers were on the futon she'd just toss them and so for a while I was missing some very important notes for classes. Karen took every opportunity to drink, and once had her cousin over and they finished a fifth of Captain's in the room in one night (I mean I like to drink now and then, but I don't do it in the dorm).

Then came the impersonal treatment. If any person she knew remotely walked into or past our room they got a huge "HIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!" from Karen. If I walked into the room I got a face that said "Oh, you again." Not that I wanted Karen to be my best friend, but I would have at least liked to have been treated like a HUMAN! Whenever she came back from classes I would say, "Hey, Karen. How was class?" Or "How are you?" (I had 8ams all semester so sometimes we didn't even actually see each other till 4, so these greetings were just a means to be friendly and catch up, which Karen didn't seem was necessary-- friendliness nor catching up). When she brought friends into the room it was expected that I say hello and possibly just leave. When I brought friends into the room, she'd look up, give them the same face she gave me when I walked in the room and MAYBE muster a "hi..." but the greeting was totally full of contempt and the expectation that we would leave in a minute. After a bit of uncomfortable silence and staring, either she'd leave or my friend, pretty uncomfortable at that point, would suggest that WE leave. It's to the point my friends now just call me and expect me to come over to their rooms and don't even bother coming to my room because she makes them feel that unwelcome.

Oh yeah, and Karen didn't even verbally wish me a Happy Birthday-- she wrote it on a post-it (I think that may be worse than Berger's post-it statement on Sex & the City). When I went home to celebrate with my family (first time I'd been home yet), I burst into tears because my roommate was just that mean to me. I was tired of it. And finally, when I came home for Thanksgiving, I made the decision I was going to move. I'd talked to my RA, I'd tried being really friendly, and I WAS DONE. My living situation was stressing me out and I physically and emotionally could not take it anymore. My mom, who was an RA for 3 years of college, even understood this need that she felt rarely was legitimate but that in this case was very much so.

The wait lists were closed, so I went to housing and asked to be placed in an all-girls dorm-- pretty much meaning I didn't need to explain anything because it seemed like a legitimate need. I am now moving to a lovely new dorm with a quiet roommate. I am trading a large room with a mean roommate for a small room with one who it seems possible to at least get along in a civil fashion.

Bottom Line: Most people do very well with whoever they are placed with. But once in a while you get Karen the Douchebag. It's alright. Try to work it out. But when it doesn't and it makes you dread even going home to sleep, know that it's ok to switch rooms. You shouldn't feel that way about the place you live and the person you live with. It's not normal, and it's not just you. I'm done being nice to someone who probably hopes for my death every Saturday night I go out. And I'm even more tired of living with that person. So give it a go, be nice, and get out if it makes you wanna cry once a day.

This post was originally written by E3
University of Michigan · Undecided · 16 Dec 2006