Tuesday, August 15, 2006

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

I wrote this two weeks ago, but I never got around to posting it...

Every summer my roommate (and her boyfriend) leave and I get a sublet who rents out their room for some jacked up price that gives them enough extra money to finance a mortgage on a second home while I'm left wondering if the stranger sleeping in the next room over has the potential to snap and kill me in a drug infused delirious rage. Essentially, they could give a shit less who lives with me as long as they aren't held financially responsible. Some of these sublettors really suck. Some rock. Some have even become my friends. This one happens to be 10 years younger than me. I'm trying people, but I can't help but feel like I'm raising her.

Despite the major hurdles, like when she locked me out of the apartment by putting the security lock on the door and passing out drunk within ear shot and not answering her annoying phone that was ringing "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira at 4 in the morning that I called 20 times while I'm screamed into the crack of the doorway, "Open the damn door now!!!!" to no avail (I looked like Jack Nicholson in The Shining), or when the News reported Boy George had to do community service for his drug charges and she asked, "Who is Boy George?", she really is a sweetheart. Really. (I apologize for the run on sentence; I couldn't resist.) But I should send her parents a bill because I am doing some ground work here that they really should have taken care of a few years ago, preferably before they sent her out into the world (and into my apartment).

Here are some lessons I've tried to instill in New York City's finest intern and sublettor:


-cheez-it's, papa john's, and easy mac go straight to your ass once you hit 25.

-Being able to carry on a conversation about something pertinent will make you appear interesting. It will also take the focus away from the big butt you got watching "Laguna Beach" and bingeing on Ho-Ho's.


-If you put your clothes away instead of leaving them on the floor, boys will think you know how to "keep house", and the other people that come by to visit your roommate will never figure out that you and the bartender you picked up in the village are sloppy shagging in your room. By learning to not shed your clothes in the living room because you couldn't make it the extra six feet to your bedroom to snog, you actually end up looking classy.

-They are smart enough to know you lost the wallet, drunkard.

So that is my community service for the summer. My apartment is an actual Habitat for Humanity. I really am making the world a better place...one wide-eyed college student at a time.

This is a sad update that I feel compelled to share:

On Saturday night my sublet was coming home at one thirty in the morning and she was sexually assaulted in our building. She was smart and she fought back (with words and with her strength) She was violated but will survive, both physically and spiritually. Her attacker wanted to bring her upstairs to continue assaulting her, but she was afraid that if she brought him upstairs he would kill us both. She took him on herself with strength and courage that I don't know if I myself posses. I don't know if anyone has done so much for me ever. I always have something witty to say, but when it comes to this, I am at a complete loss. My heart is breaking with gratitude and pain all at the same time. I can't stop crying when I look at her and feeling so responsible. I remained safe and I still feel so scared. I can't even begin to imagine how she feels.

This situation could have been avoided if my landlord had replaced the burned out lights in the hallway, that I, along with several other residents have repeatedly complained about. I want him to pay financially and with his soul. "Louisiana" shouldn't have had this happen. My landlord doesn't care about anything except his money. We asked for help and he didn't have the decency to return our calls. I believe in Karma, and I feel bad for him because he will eventually have to answer for his actions in this life. With sadness , Louisiana is going home on Thursday. I hope the city hasn't gotten the best of her...

I have included a picture of the view from my apartment. Gadget took the picture on my roof the last time he came to visit. This view was my own slice of heaven. I always thought the city lights shined for no one but me. I look at this picture and I know everything has changed. Things will never be the same here in this little apartment. I don't know how much longer I can live here and not be terrified by every creak in the floorboard or every thump of footsteps as they make their way up the stairs. I cry because Louisiana will never feel the joy that has filled my heart when I have stood on this roof , soaked in this view, and felt free.

Best Wishes Louisiana. You will be missed. I will forever be sorry.


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