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Also you are agreeing that you and your roommates will be held solely responsible for any and all damages to hotel property.
Matthew Davis 2/24/2016 Moving and then Moving Again but a Shorter Distance the Second Time When people talk about moving away from home, they usually act like it’s one of the hardest things to do in life,but the most challenging part of moving away is living in a new place and adapting to a scary and unfamiliar lifestyle.I moved from “upstate” (really more like lower th middle state) New York to Greenwich Village, Manhattan on August 29 2015 to enroll at NYU, and I was able to avoid any of the challenges an actual migrant would face. I drove down with my parents in an expensive car, played video games on my phone the whole way, and my biggest worry was whether my roommate whom I harassed on Facebook before we moved in would be mean to me when we finally met in real life. I didn’t have to worry about food or a safe place to stay, as my parents wrote out a check and all I had to do was show up. NYU would take care of everything from there. My “residence hall” came with a dining room, two lounges, and 24 hour public safety officers in the lobby to ensure the shadier characters of Manhattan couldn’t accidentally find themselves mingling with the heirs and debutantes of New York University’s Hayden Hall. Even though I had everything I needed here, I still felt overwhelmingly sad at the idea of leaving my family, and this was the closest thing to a difficult part about moving away from th home. On Friday September 4 I realized I could go home whenever I wanted for 16 dollars, and this revelation made the entire thing much easier for everyone. When I was home, I felt eager, even anxious, to get back to school in New York. At NYU, I was free to spend my parents’ money, and write obnoxious essays about the vastness of my privilege. After I got back from the trip home I had to take after 6 whole days of living on my own, something was different about my room. This “something” was so egregious that I really had no idea how to handle it. This was by far the most traumatic thing I had ever been forced to endure in my 18 pathetic years on this Earth. I came into my room and I saw my good friend and roommate “Ricky” had hung up Christmas lights. Aesthetics notwithstanding, Christmas lights were a distraction. They produced unnecessary light in garish colors at inappropriate times. There was no reason for an adult to have them, especially not in September. But Ricky’s passion for Christmas lights went further, as he insisted on leaving them on for most of the night. Sometimes he would come in at 2 in the morning to turn the Christmas lights on and inexplicably leave me to sleep with a blinding reminder of an event from 2000 years ago, or the holiday commemorating it that was still 3 months away. I tried to formulate possible reasons for leaving Christmas lights on late at night. Maybe he was afraid of the dark, maybe he was practicing for one of his NYU Tisch lighting classes, or maybe he did it to offend me personally, not realizing I’m only half Jewish. No matter how I looked at it, the Christmas lights were a problem, and when I asked him if I could turn them off one night, he insisted that he needed them to “see” at night. The obtuseness of this answer puzzled me briefly, and then I immediately ordered a light‐blocking sleep mask on Amazon to be delivered the next morning. For the next few weeks I made sure to passive aggressively draw great attention to my nightly ritual of preparing and donning my sleep mask, making sure Ricky understood that I had to wear protective nightwear to shield myself from the blinding rays of his “cute” and “hip” décor. I wasn’t happy here, I didn’t enjoy being disrespected by Christmas lights. That and Ricky and I would go days without saying anything to each other. I’m not sure if he didn’t like me, but it was a decidedly awkward living situation. The most we ever talked was one night when I saw Ricky outside smoking and drinking, a state in which he was eager to talk about how I “stare” at him at night (from what he described I think he meant my habit of lifting up my sleep mask to see if his Christmas lights were still on).This encounter was bizarre, and as I listened to him drunkenly rant about me, I realized I had to change the dynamic of my living situation into something less abusive. For the sake of brevity, I won’t go into the finer details, but in the th following weeks I arranged a four way room trade that involved me moving to the 8 floor of the same building into a triple room in exchange for $150 and a pair of sneakers designed by Kanye West. To be clear, I was the one getting the money and the coveted sneakers. When I tell this story people usually think I had to pay to get out of a bad situation, but no, I really got very lucky, and as far as Ricky’s “punishment” goes? The Urban Outfitters on 6th Avenue just went out of business. This brings us to where I am right now, in room 801 of NYU’s Hayden Hall. I like this room a lot better but it’s still pretty bad. Because I insisted on trading outside of the algorithmically sorted roommate pool, I now live in filth. That’s fine, I don’t mind cleaning up, but some of the filthy pigs I live with are also mean filthy pigs. My one roommate, whom I’ll try not to name (in the likely event that this essay is published within the next 3 months and he gets offended reading it and beats me up in my sleep), eats every meal in the room, showers with the curtain open, wears dirty boots into the room after I’ve cleaned it, stays up late playing video games and clicking manically, and also steals from me constantly. Describing his behavior this bluntly and omitting the nuance of his acrimony does tremendous justice to the reality of living with him. When he eats in the room, he gets the smelliest foods like stewed meats and broiled vegetables from the dining hall, and instead of throwing the box out in the hallway (like a normal disgusting person who eats in his bedroom) he leaves the box on his desk (like a really disgusting person who eats in his bedroom). When he showers with the curtain open, he steps outside of the shower with his wet body to get the soaps and Chinese shampoos he forgets to bring in with him at first, getting water all over the floor and sink. When he wears boots into the room he steps in the bathroom and onto the bath mat leaving piles of dirt for me to clean and towels for me to wash. When I come back after a weekend at home, and find my food, money, hangers, and prescription pills missing, he looks at me and groans indignantly at the idea of me being disappointed that he steals my things. When he stays up late playing video games, he insists “just one more round” even though it’s already 4 AM on the morning of my Calculus 3 midterm. This is a disaster, and I am under considerable abuse. The good news is he’s galvanized a number of latent obsessive compulsive tendencies in me, and now I have the “good” kind of OCD, meaning I’m obsessively organized and neat but in a “constructive” way according to my psychiatrist. At this point I alternate between pitying him as socially inept and unaware of how rude he’s being, and bitterly resenting him for being a mad genius, capable of scamming me out of my mental health. Before I moved away from home, I never had to deal with rude roommates or personal accountability or sleep masks, but it’s fine, it really is. As I type this, my RA, suitemates and I are planning an intervention with my roommate. He eagerly responded “yes” to an email about a meeting to create a new living agreement, probably not realizing he is the sole villain of this story. That’s okay, let him have a few more days of feeling bitter towards me for asking him to be slightly less inconsiderate sometimes. Listen, sure I’m being abused, but I really don’t mind; I’m becoming a more responsible adult, learning to have patience with children, and most importantly, my new shoes are really cool.
$50 Bookstore Gift Certificate Choice of a Hoodie Choice of a Tee Shirt or Hat One prize per roommate will be awarded for double occupancy rooms where both roommates have assisted with door decorations.
Unix/Terminal ● Developed a roommate compatibility application “Roommates” with a technical group of two others.
I could use some help with the rent.” And now, the number of roommates you have is reaching unsustainable levels.
Room assignments for summer residents Summer residents will be assigned to a room (whether in the townhouses or residence halls) and roommates by the Student Life Office.
I thank everyone who lived in my old home, the Frog Dog House, for being such amazing roommates and being so supportive of me even when I was ensconced in my studies—Andrew Pannell, Anika Tobiason, Sam Szabo, Eileen Chavez, Emelia Jarnot, Ariel Hawkins, Jamie Cree, Hannah Mizar.
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