Going away to college opens you up to many new experiences. Living in a box with a stranger from who knows where is like being in the Real World without the cameras.

Roommates are an enigma, you never know what you're in for.

This story takes place in the third floor of East Hall, Summer B 2000.

So youíre really leaving? My mom said as she turned red with shock to know I was serious about going to UF. Never in a million years did I picture myself leaving the comfort of my home. I had it made there. Not only did I not have to work, but my mom did everything for me. From cooking, to cleaning, to even doing my laundry--ironing it and folding it! I guess that was main reason I went away. I never had the need to do anything because before I could even make my way to sink to wash my dirty dish, my mom had beat me to it! Being babied constantly can be soooo annoying! Picture It

Where was I going to live and with who? Originally four of us from high school planned to live in the new dorms--Lakeside. But itís never good to plan too much in advance. That fell through and I was left with a RANDOM roommate and a dorm room the size of my closet. Picture It

The Encounter The moment I received my information for Summer B I called the stranger (the soon to be rommie) to know what to expect when I got there. Dawn warned me of her messy habits, but she forgot to mention that showers were NOT in her daily routine. I remember her coming late at night from "studying" with the boy downstairs and crashing in bed without showering once the WHOLE day. Let me remind you that Gainesville in the summer is like a desert. Well...Dawnís classes weren't exactly around the corner, they were both in Little Hall and by the time she got back she was shiny with sweat and looked like a butterball. Every time I grabbed the shower bucket sheíd say, "How many times a day are you going to shower? Three? Thatís too much. Youíre skin's gonna fall off!"
Shower = Clean, Right? Apperantly she never learned that. Showering for her was, "If I can fit it in my schedule, Iíll do it," and thatís exactly what she told me when I asked her why she didnít shower daily. Who knows, maybe she was scared of water. Not only did she never "find" time to shower, but she didnít think doing laundry was important either. In the 6 weeks I lived with her she did laundry ONCE, and thatís because I "inspired her." Picture It

Bras, Panties, clean ones and dirty ones, clothes (all of it), comb, paper balls, towels, and the list goes on forever. A pigpen was probably cleaner than Dawnís side of the cage. Dawn didnít believe clothes belonged in closets or drawers. According to her, the mountain of junk in front of her bed was "to break the landing" from her raised bunk (where she kept more crap beneath). I almost forgot to mention the crusty dried oatmeal bowl that sat on her desk for a week. Picture It

The FIGHT No doubt the Maginot Line ran down the middle of our tiny room. There was 2 weeks left before I was released from the dungeon of chaos. According to Dawn, she was putting her junk away, but every time I entered the room I saw double the mess. I got so fet up with her! I went off on her..."I pay for this room the same way you do...I'm about to start climbing the wall over here...bla bla bla." I had no problem telling her how disgusting I thought she was. Of course, it went in one ear and out the other. Boy am I glad that was only 6 weeks! She was such an OINKER (a.k.a pig)!!!