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October 16, 2003 - Image 17

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The Michigan Daily, 2003-10-16

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12B - The Michigan Daily - Weekend Maazine --Thursday, October 16, 2003

The Michigan Daily - Weekend Malta

Continued from Page 7B
may not be a desirable roommate, and
you should not feel obligated to accept
them into your future home simply
because your friend insists on it.
Take caution when someone is
described as being "just like you."
While similar interests and living
styles can provide for an enjoyable liv-
ing experience, it can also backfire. Do
you really want someone "just like
you" to always be around and make
you constantly analyze your habits and
Think "Single White Female" - it
makes individuality worthy of patenting.

This is can be a win-win situation. In
many cases, men and women who live
together often teach each other about the
lifestyles of the other sex.
Jamie Binder, an LSA junior, lives
with two of her female friends and four
men she did not know coming into the
school year. So far, she says there have
been no problems and she has made
plans to live with another guy in an
apartment for next year.
"Girls can be catty, guys are not
into that," she said. "They are more
relaxed, but also cleaner than the girls
... It's a good diversity. They answer
our questions about guys, and we help

each other. Before we go out, we
always ask: 'Do I look okay?' It's the
best of both worlds."
In addition to learning about the
opposite sex, sexual tension can peak
in this situation, especially if the other
roommates are attractive. While it
doesn't hurt to have eye-candy walking
around the house in a towel, hooking
up with a roommate can bedangerous.
If you submit to your hedonistic
desires, you risk a looming awkward-
ness that could hang around for the
remainder of the school year. Jealousy
could also ensue if the hot roommate
has an annoying significant other that
sleeps over all the time. That said, stick
to the roommate's hot friends.



When it comes to finding housing in Ann Arbor, many students feel like they have
more questions than answers.
2 housing
roller coaster ride

live in a rather unique and wonderful
setting this semester, and I've been
positively dying to write about it
since the realization first hit me.
My home lies nestled in Kerrytown, on
the fantastically mellow north side of the
city. Following the trend of Ann Arbor's
lovable slumlords, my leasing company
is shamelessly esurient and delinquent
with its responsibilities. Somehow, it
feels it appropriate to compete with
Manhattan's property costs since the
building I live in is a "historic home."
(With its glamorously boarded-up win-
dows and poor lighting schemes, yes, it
might have indeed been a booming crack
den in its heyday.) But I digress; one
needs to rage against the real estate
machine when the opportunity arises.
Through some cosmic stroke of prov-
idence, 418 E. Kingsley St. has become
my sanctuary, due to the fine gentlemen
who share this residence with me. So,
without further ado, allow me to intro-
duce my exceptionally fascinating
Roast Beef, a.k.a. London Broil: As
the latter moniker suggests, he comes to
Ace Deuce from across the pond. His
cultural identity, however, is not so clear.
Roast Beef is an Anglo-Franco-
American, complete with three different
accents, and three sets of personas:
Limey (at the pub), Frog (with the ladies)
and crazy Yank (watching Michigan
football). Ethnically, he is a whore, and

by far, the most eccentric personality in
the house. R.B. is 418's social organizer,
preparer of haute cuisine and entertain-
ment after numerous shots of vodka.
Raspberry Danish: Hailing from
Copenhagen, he can drink more than any
human I know. He's exceptionally fond
of Danish drinking songs, cold
Carlsbergs and romantic walks along the
beaches of the North Sea. Raspberry is
in his element when reciting cheap "erot-
ica" from pornographic magazines (it's a
Scandinavian thing). This Great Dane
epitomizes the expression "chill." He can
definitely kick your ass, but probably
won't unless your bash his homeland's
soccer team.
LiP Pooper: While I only just recent-
ly became acquainted with Roast Beef
and Raspberry Danish, domestically
bred Pooper and I go way back to our
merry old underclassmen days of deviant
mischief fueled by binge drinking. Our
scatological hijinx are well documented
in several circles, as is our ability to
adopt the maturity levels of toddlers
when we are in the same room. Lil'
Pooper is great because he has this tattoo
on his chest that he has absolutely no
memory of getting (Tijuana ... classic).
Someday, this Southern gentleman will
be a part of this nation's Special Forces,
but he'll still giggle uncontrollably if you
casually mention the word "poo."
That's the lineup: Three white engi-
neers (the dirty Europeans are working

on their doctorates) and one lowly liber-
al arts student. When they begin to work
on applied physics, I pull out my Rizlas
and lazily ponder metaphysics. But the
arrangement works remarkably well. So,
now let me explain why my house rules
and yours does not: Hedonism is King
on Kingsley Street. There is absolutely
no drama between us, just plain fun -
and a very marked absence of political
correctness. Consider our typical
Saturday morning banter:
Pooper: Hey, you guys should check
out the little goody I left in the bathroom!
Me: Hehe, it's a good one.
Raspberry: Oh, man! You Americans
are crazy!
Beef: Alright, boys, we're throwing an
impromptu party tonight. Start calling
people, Pig Vomit (that's me).
Me: Ugh, I'm still drunk. Whoa, our
house is trashed ...
Beef: I only want cool girls at this
thing. Why are American girls so diffi-
cult and conservative?
Raspberry: Yeah, they're lame.
Dudes, we have to make a porno.
Pooper: Holy shit, can you smell that?
Our house is just a lot of fun, and free
from the criticisms of squares - the
kind of people we despise and actively
exclude from our social functions. I'll
admit it - we are elitist; but our only
screening criterion is a genuine willing-

ness to enjoy life. I love my housema
because they fully espouse the sai
mentality that I do. The sad part is t
we've all concluded that not many pe
ple on campus do. Our gatherings a
smallish, but far more decadent than 1
average Ann Arbor party; accompan
by sublime trance anthems, women ro
tinely make out in our living room. Ev
our Thursday night dinners are bacc]
nalian affairs.
I suppose this column is simply
salute to the lads I live with.sThey're
ones who make our parties great,o
meals memorable and studying tolerat
I would have never thought I would lea
anything from three guys who can't wi
a full sentence, but these gentlemen ha
offered many valuable insights. O
many an Ashley's pint, we've trac
advice on women, enjoyed magnific
political conversations and just be
happy to temporarily escape the inh
ently puritanical trappings of Amerit
I entered my present living situati
blind and lucked out in a very big w<
Now, I just can't wait to have more gr
times in the rickety house that I initia
thought I would hate. My house is b
liant, and if you're chic enough to be
part of the zeitgeist, perhaps yoi
receive an e-mail invitation to our n
debauched event.
- Neal can be reached

By Ellen McGarity
Daily Arts Writer
OcrOBER 2002
A year ago, I made what I thought
would be one of the best decisions of my
college career: I renewed the lease on
my house.
If you knew my house, I bet you
would have wanted to live in it for a sec-
ond year too.
It's nearly at the corner of East Madi-
son and South Fifth - five minutes
from the Michigan Union, five minutes
from the Student Publications Building
(where I spend many evenings), five
minutes from the stadium and about a
five-minute drive for the delivery peo-
ple at Pizza House. It's gray with white
trim and has a nice roomy porch which
we furnished with a comfy couch (only
$35 at a recycled stuff store in Ann
Arbor!). My best friend and I decorated
the inside a la Target's Todd Oldham
college collection. And my room - did
I mention all seven of us have our own
room? -has eight windows.
All this made it easier to lend an
ear and a shoulder to my less fortu-
nate friends as they cried to me about
their sad housing dilemmas. I listened
when they complained about uncoop-
erative landlords who charged high
rents. And I listened when they
mourned the house that some other
group of girls had signed for first.
But I always inwardly smiled to
myself because I didn't have to deal
with any of it.
DEcEMBR 2002
When I went home for Christmas
break, my mother asked, "Are you sure
you want to stay in that old house
again?" (My mom has hardly ever set
foot inside my house because she is con-
vinced that rats and other such rodents
must be hiding in the kitchen cupboards
and in the basement).

And the more I explained it to her, the
more I really did want to stay in my
house. I would not have to move all my
stuff out for two weeks in the summer,
then move it all into a new house. I
would not have to deal with subletters or
conflicting leases. I would get to keep
my wonderful landlord who always
drops what he's doing to come fix the
faulty washer in the basement. I would-
n't even have to adjust the time it takes
for me to walk to East Hall, where most
of my classes are.
I was most excited about my room-
mates. Returning were my best friend
Jia-En (Ern), who is from Singapore,
Kate, a friend from the dorms freshman
year, Kate's sister Elly and Sarah, my
friend who graciously agreed to live in
the basement room for the second year
in a row. The two new roommates were
to be Paul and Te Chung (or TC, he's
from Taiwan), friends of Ern's.
APRIL 2003
As the second semester came to a
close, Ern and I talked about how we
would all hang out together the next
year: Paul would cook us yummy dishes
on the grill (which he promised to buy),
we would fix up the basement, we
would all go to Kate and Elly's farm in
Chelsea and we would have more par-
ties than the year before (note, that the
first year in my house we only had one
party at which our keg was stolen by our
neighbors). When I said good bye to Ern
in April, she said, "Don't be sad. I'll be
back in four months."
OcTOER 2003
Now it's been nearly six months, and I
still have not seen Ern. I have not heard
from Paul. Sarah is moving out after
Christmas. Karen and Begum now
reside in place of my "missing" room-
mates. What happened? Yeah, what hap-
pened! Let me backtrack ...

ome take a iood look
125 Bennett Street, Atlanta, Georgia 30309.
Call 1.800.255.3169 x19. www.portfoiiocenter.com
Your parents expected you to go to college, so
you went. They expected you to get a degree, and you
did. You got your degree in English, Communications,
Art History, Philosophy, Art... Now they're expecting you
to get a nice nine-to-five with a boss who wears wing
tips and a receptionist named Alma. Maybe it's time to
do the unexpected. Portfolio Center is the school for
college graduates who won't be content to doodle on
their spreadsheets. (we won't tell your mom you called
On Campus October 22nd
The Grad Fair 11-3
1 f Greatstudents, great work.

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