houseguests

growing up, i was a huge fan of staying at other people's houses. i always felt like everyone else's house was more exciting than mine, and usually warmer; my parents' house is super drafty, tiled on the entire first floor, and inhabited by a man who refuses to turn the heat on at all until nov. 1 and even then cringes when the thermostat goes above 60. by the time high school rolled around, my house became the cool place to hang out, mostly because my parents went to bed at sundown and fell into some sort of comatose state that seemed to prevent them from noticing all the stuff that was happening in other parts of the house. a friend of mine lived with us for a couple of months when she was having trouble with her parents and we would lay in my waterbed (!) for hours, doing ridiculous things like synching up wizard of oz with pink floyd's dark side of the moon and crafting bongs out of water bottles and aluminum foil. lord help me.

anyway, working where i have for the past four years, i've had the (sometimes) pleasure of having tons and tons of houseguests. i was without a roommate for a couple of months in a big 2br apartment in somerville my first year on staff, and i hosted a rotating cast of characters -- some people i've never talked to since, and at least one who remains one of my best friends. the girl who hired me told me she'd quit and was leaving the next day at the kitchen table there. a craigslist roommate (a massuese!) moved in eventually and never got an actual bed. she slept on a yoga mat on the hardwood floor of her bedroom. she went to england for awhile to visit some dude she'd met while studying massage in thailand and a college friend and a girl she was (sort of) dating at the time were i think the only houseguests to ever experience the yoga mat... romantic. i walked into the room after a long night of drinking and they had turned on the AC full blast while leaving the window open.

when i moved to a different place in boston (the aforementioned 9 hall), i lived with two other people from work so the guests increased exponentially as all three of us promised spots to different friends in town for trainings and meetings. this was the period where i would occasionally stumble out of my bedroom in the morning only to find a stranger (or two) in sleeping bags semi-blocking the door. once i was standing in the kitchen and my roommate came flying out of her bedroom shrieking because she'd heard a knock on her window; turns out it was just the houseguest who had scaled the porch to our second floor apartment because the doorbell didn't work and there was some cell phone malfunction. the hot water heater busted on the morning four of us had to get up at 5am for an event. we spent most sundays cooking extravagant brunches for 6-10 people and drinking dozens of bottles of champagne mixed with weird flavors of nectar from the spanish market down the street. i could probably count on one hand the number of times i was alone in that apartment for even a single night.

my college friend of the ill advised AC blasting was my first houseguest in denver. my cousin came for thanksgiving and the two of us plus my roommate cooked a thanksgiving feast. i still insist on patronizing the liquor store in the safeway parking lot down the street because they were the only booze sellers open late that night when we really needed it. i finally had to flee that house after no fewer than four people settled in for extended stays during the fall election season of 08.

now that i live in a studio apartment, i usually just hand things over to whoever needs a place to stay and sleep at tate's. i endure a lot of comments about my empty fridge and slowly accumulate proper drinking vessels. this morning i bought a plunger at the creepy little market across the street ($2.99) to fix the damage left by the most recent round. i tried out the conditioner someone left in my shower last month and dried off with a blue towel i acquired from someone else in somerville way back when. i try to take the good with the bad.