All throughout my life, I had friends and family saying "You don't want to live with your friends, you'll all hate each other by the end of the year," or "Be careful, you may love them now, but if you live with them they'll annoy the ever-living crap out of you." Me, being the good person that I am, value my few friendships. I have handpicked them, and they have handpicked me to spend awesome times and gossip with.
By my sophomore year, it came time to move out of the old dorm room and find a new apartment. I had spent a lot of time pinning things on Pinterest trying to find cute ways to decorate the living room, my own bathroom, and cute kitchen supplies that I'll never use. I needed to find the roommate that would go along with these cute ideas, help me pick out paint, etc.
But as time went on, I realized that there is no point in spending oodles of money just to have to take it all down by the end of the year. I could be buying that new Kate Spade bag that will follow me to my first job, or that top from Anthropology that has been screaming my name ever since I saw it. So I posted in the ol' sorority Facebook group, saying I needed a roommate to live with me in my new three-bedroom apartment.
Little to nobody spoke up, and I was fine. I wasn't one to dwell on the fact that I may have to live with randoms, but that was part of the excitement. I knew of maybe one potential, but not enough to make me jump for joy. But then I found a sorority sister that was ready to make the transition and felt the same way as I did about decorating the living room. I was ecstatic. This friend was admirable, classy, and fun to hang around with all at the same time.
But I worried about our friendship. Would living together make or break us? We kept the tone neutral before moving in. "Let's not share kitchen utensils, we should buy our own and not have to worry about who's buying what"—which I highly suggest to everybody who is sharing a kitchen. It's much easier and saves time and arguments down the road.
I am happy to say that throughout the year, not a single argument about the apartment came up with my new favorite roomie. We helped each other battle an ant infestation, a flea infestation (I still shudder), water damage in the ceiling, our fridge cutting off and trying to save our groceries, clogged plumbing, and an adoration for a particular black cat.
My only word of advice is to keep an open mind. It's a new area, and you're both trying to figure out where you fit in with this tiny apartment. Make time for each other, whether it's venting after a sorority chapter meeting, gossiping about who's-dating-who, and even coming up with new romantic comedy ideas after watching "Legally Blonde." Before you know it, you guys are best friends. But give them space. If they have a designated laundry day, abide by it. Don't mess that up; they have a specific schedule and you help them stick to it. In return, they may pick up an extra loaf of bread for you in the middle of a snowstorm.
Living with my friend was one of the best decisions I could have ever made, and I would do it all over again (But she's off to bigger, better things at NC State). I would recommend it to anybody.
