10 Reasons Why I Love My Roommate

10 Reasons Why I Love My Roommate

I love living with one of my roommates and best friends, Lauren; I can't wait to live with her another year!

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We've had so many good times and bad times, so here are the reasons I love her and am glad to have lived with her!

1. We can talk about pretty much anything.

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From cats to politics to old-school references, we can talk about anything and everything.

2. She can finesse the fridge pretty well.

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One of the most skilled fridge organizers I know who can turn a nightmare into an orderly stack of containers.

3. She is truly caring.

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Even if it's just asking if I'm okay or how my day was, I know Lauren truly cares about me and my well-being.

4. She always offers me food.

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Just today I was sad that I didn't have any Mochi ice cream left, so she offered me one of her ice cream bars.

5. She is stronger than she knows, and makes me stronger, too.

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It may sound cheesy, but we do make each other stronger by sharing our experiences and thoughts with each other.

6. We always get up to the weirdest shenanigans.

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We never fail to have some weird times together, but that's a unique bond we share!

7. She always tries to include me in activities.

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One time, I told her I was going to alone Labor Day weekend a few years ago, and she invited me to eat with her family (whens she didn't have to).

8. She will randomly come home with gifts.

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One day in the fall, she showed up with candy corn flavored kettle corn because I had expressed that I enjoyed candy corn. Take notes, ladies and gents.

9. She knows me very well, and can recognize when I'm having a bad day.

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If I seem down or not talkative, she will ask what happened and try to make me feel better.

10. We have a similar sense of humor.

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We tend to want to make the other laugh, and enjoy the same type of jokes and pranks.

Nothing but a long listicle for the queen of listicles! I'm excited to continue our amazing friendship!

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On June 22nd I Celebrated My 22nd

*Insert cliche Taylor Swift song "22"*

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It's about time I turn 22. I've been told that after your 21st birthday, the years begin to fly past you in a blur. I don't know if I agree, but I can definitely say that I don't feel 22. Sometimes I look around at all the people who are freshmen in college, or juniors in high school, and I begin to reminisce about when I was their age. One thing getting older does do is make you a skeptical, cynical person.

I've thought a lot about my birthday as another day that I get to eat cake because let's face it, I'm not really here for anything else, except maybe a shot. I remember celebrating my birthday when I was younger was much different from what it turned into after I turned 20. Back in the day, I would celebrate my birthday with a pool party. Pizza, chips, cake, and soda. A few balloons and candles and that was it. I'd only invite my closest friends and we'd have so much fun.

I miss that kind of birthday. The kind you pick out an outfit for days prior, the kind you get so excited for and can't sleep, the kind that makes you feel special. It doesn't feel like that anymore. What it feels like now is, "welp, there goes another year." This line is also applicable to New Year's Eve, but we'll cross that bridge six months from now.

My birthday is pretty uneventful. It feels like the spark is gone, the excitement is gone. I wish I could feel happy that I'm turning 22, but I also know that it's just a reality that we all get older and things like birthdays begin to feel strange. You're faced to realize that you're supposed to have gained another year of experience and intelligence in the aspects of life, but it's almost like you feel the same.

It's safe to say that this has been a bit of an existential-crisis-themed birthday, but I'm just a little scared of getting older. I think we all reach a point where you realize you aren't invincible anymore. It's time to see what's in store for the future, what your career goals are, where you plan to move to after graduation, how to eat better, and how to feel like you've reached your full potential. It's a bittersweet moment in my life, but I'm ready to see what's next.

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Poetry On Odyssey: The Light That Is Manhattan

A poem about anticipation.

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Almost there.

The subway station is cold and narrow

But the staircase is just ahead.

No more corners, maps, or the like,

Just the light at the top of the stairs.


They say this city is filled with dreams.

Desires that may not even exist yet.

Dreams that have yet to be achieved,

or so the glow in front of me says.


The wonder builds as the ambiguous light at the top of the

Subway station stairs get brighter.

These steps are a two way street of

Excitement up

Fulfillment down.


May this light soon turn into

Roaring streets

Calm corners

Tranquil parks, and

dreams obtained.


The bright light I see in front of me is the glow of the city.

32 steps and I'm home.

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