Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Roommate


I'm a very lucky girl.  For various reasons, but one of the most important - my Freshman year roommate was normal.  All I really knew about college (besides from "Legally Blonde" and "Animal House" - both excellent examples) I learned from my mom.  Her best friend is still her college roommate.  Maybe I was naive in expecting my first college roommate to fulfill the expectation that she might very well be a best friend, but the stars aligned and God said IT SHALL BE SO (<---- in a deep loud booming voice, probably with thunder and lightning).
Documentation of God choosing my best friend
Not everyone was as lucky as I was.  I would actually argue that most people either hated their roommate, or reached the unspoken agreement that while they inhabited the same space, they were in no way friends.  Well, pretty much since the first day, Lauren and I became best friends.  We went to meals together, watched Food Network in our beds, ordered takeout, went to Frat parties (wah scary!), drove to Walmart, and held each others hair back.  Ultimate friendship test.  We didn't always get along of course, but I obviously got over her breaking my hair straightener and she got over me never cleaning my side of the room (I also never washed my sheets- a slight exaggeration).  We lived with each other every semester through graduation.  I posted about my other best friends here and here, all of whom I met the first week of school (except my cousin).  I'm either really lucky, or God got lightning rod happy and granted my wish tri-fold.  Thanks God, you're the man.

We like to dance
 
We look good dancing

My arms are always above my head

Sometimes we... mix it up?
And sometimes we match
And sometimes its because I have pink eye

We also both love Weezy, Paula Deen, CB4 (look it up), piano bars, and Woodchuck Cider.  We are also excellent gift givers.  She never forgets a birthday.  I have a hard time remembering if its Tuesday or Thursday.  She came to visit for a night last week while in town for a conference meeting, and squeezed in a few hours to spend with me on a Monday night after her company dinner.  We ended up at a bar where she paid the piano man $20 for me to sing Patsy Cline "Crazy".  I only knew the first line.  It was awesome.


Shockingly, we don't appear like we're 6 cocktails deep.  Also, this was taken by one of our new Australian friends.  All of them were older than our dads.

Funny things going on here:  I don't know the words.  That shot of tequila was my bribe for the piano man.  He doesn't drink.  My mom says I look like her here (good to know I start resembling my mom after one too many).

Love you Kleiner!

xo,
Ludge

P.S. - Don't try to understand any part of that.

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