Saturday, June 13, 2015

droopy boobs in a safe space

tonight's ledger
minus $80 for my share of cable bill  

I owe a lot to my roommate ELLEN, but specifically and right now I owe $80 for our cable bill.  I am a cinephile.  It's programmed in my biorhythm to go to the livingroom around 8pm, choose the best movie on television, and spend the evening drinking mugs of tea in front of the tube.  So I always feel like I must repay Ellen for cable as quickly as possible but, because I almost never have money, "quickly" in this case means about two months.  For this reason (and many more), I appreciate Ellen.  She is patient.  She's always willing to listen to the budget I've drawn up.  She always responds with, "OKAY.  Thanks for letting me know.  You'll get it to me."  And like I honestly wrote, there are other reasons I adore Ellen:  She surprises us and keeps domesticity lively, from sneezes that resound through the entire house to randomly inviting me to make dinner with her, and her dishes are tasty!  Ellen is a fantastic cook!

Then there is HEIDI who, over the past month, has selflessly purchased my share of the house's toilet paper - without uttering one annoyed word.  In a shared home, I know that is rare.  I am relieved to report that last wknd I purchased a family pack of t.p. but, until I could spend those few dollars, Heidi did not give me the cold shoulder; she did not stop talking to me; she didn't start talking behind my back.  In the past I've lived with really petty people who got upset over everything. Some real devils who would have yelled and slammed the bathroom door (literally) if toilet paper was not purchased for their spoiled butts.  So I guess those jerks, who made home life hellish, show me what an angel Heidi was for generously restocking the bathroom when it was my responsibility.

In almost every Broke Bridget blog, I rant about how much I love my home, and that has to do with appreciating the people I share this space with.  Satisfying symbiosis results when [1] everyday you see someone in an uncompromising yet endearing light - accidentally nude, stumbling and groggy after they've just woken up, quirky in ways that are normal to you although strange to others - but [2] you come to treasure those idiosyncratic humans more and more with every successive 24-hr cycle.  As much as I observe about my housemates, they observe about me.  These are the two "lucky" ladies acquainted with my frumpiest side and its crazy afro, droopy bra-less boobs, obsession with old timey jazz songs, and the too-loud laugh at a too-late hour.  Still, I would estimate that we have a 99.8% groovy group dynamic.  I am grateful to live with these two wonderful women, and


dwellings and homes and inhabitants, presented by the new yorker