It has been a pretty good week for me, no real special reasons just a good week. And heck, it’s only Wednesday. Is my last post I have been bouncing things around in my head as to what I wanted to write about next. I have a post that is about 60 pct completed in my brain where I talk about stock car racing and my love for it. I have another post written in my head about music I love, which was caused because a friend shared a music video with me, which I in turn shared with some of you. I have yet another working story purely based on a telephone conversation I had with Cari. Then there is the leftover aspect of my recent post about the college kids visiting on weekends, where I am going to drop a dime on Allison and her wonderful roommates for being the slobs they were (at least during their college days). I have also considered writing a post about some of my military time, about what a 6 or 8 month long cruise was like in the early 70’s for an enlisted man, mainly me LOL. From the darker reaches of my mind I want to share how it is to never really feel good, how my disease has robbed me of that simple pleasure (but I am not in the mood to write that), so you are being spared for the time being. I also have in the works (mentally incomplete) posts regarding my childhood and my brothers and sister. Of course I have thoughts about posts where the thought doesn’t even exist yet. Strange how my mind works sometimes, isn’t it.
I thought about a post where I wrote a sentence or two about one subject, then would write a sentence about a different subject, then jump back to the original thought for a paragraph, only to switch again to a third subject. But even trying to explain the concept is too hard. So I will spare you all that. And while I have been rambling along I have decided to write today about my daughter’s dorm room. By the way this has not been cleared by my Daughter, she would almost deny she was ever a slob, and that would be her right, even though she was wrong.
I LOVE my daughter; I love her with all of my heart. But that doesn’t change the fact that she was a slob back in the day. Note to Cari, I don’t care what your mom tells you, she was a slob when she was your age. Just a few examples of her slobness, she would hide (or dispose of) the cokes she drank by putting the empty can under her bed, or the couch, or wherever she was at the moment she was done with it. It wouldn‘t matter if there was a trash can 8 feet away, under the couch it went. Sometimes dirty cloths ended up on the floor of the closet rather than the laundry hamper. None of this really changed even when she went off to college. Sidebar note: being a slob seems to be a generational thing, already Cari (my granddaughter) seems to be showing signs of neatness. I don’t know if it is a show she puts on for grandpa, but so far so good.
Which brings me to the post for today; my daughter lied on her college application when she claimed to be neat. But she was extremely lucky. In my post last week I talked about the 2 fine young women that became her best friends in life, by 1st being dorm room mates. During that post I said something along the lines that college rooming offices must have a BS detector went it comes to evaluating housing applications. How the three of them ended up together is one of God’s little miracles. They truly have complimented each other. And they truly suited each other and lived well together. And they all must have told the same lies on their applications.
They shared a room slightly larger than what 2 students would share. And they shared a bathroom with another room (so 5 girls sharing one bathroom, I am sure there is a story there, but thank GOD I don’t know it). The neatest that room was the entire time they shared it was the day before any of the three of them moved in. PLEASE understand I don’t have a neatness fetish, I am not a germaphobic, but I was in the navy for 9 years, and the military requires a high level of personal neatness. You have very limited space, and you had a ton of crap you had to neatly place in this limited space. The work spaces were treated the same way. It was a way of life, that even after 35 plus years I am still relatively neat and orderly, I fold my underwear as taught by the Navy, my shirts and pants hang in the same direction, one might suspect I am anal about something’s LOL
The girls were lucky in that their room was on the 2nd floor, and there was no elevator in the building. At the time this was going on I was about to have my 1st of 2 knee replacement surgeries, and I didn’t climb stairs unnecessarily. Steph and I help her get into the room; we meet her roommates and their parents, and bid the kids good luck. Over the school year Steph and I would drive down and visit, take Allison and her roommates (whoever was there) out to dinner, and then go home. After the 1st couple such visits, I mentioned that the room could be picked up a bit. Sometimes at dinner I may have made more of it that was appropriate. Who knows? But the place looked like a pig pin, well that’s not really fair to the pigs. The dorm room just wasn’t the neat and orderly environment I was used to. The girls took me real seriously, and my gripping about their room became a standing joke. They were laughing and I wasn’t. But it was easily resolved, I just waited in the dorm lobby for them to come down, that way I didn’t need to see the mess, and because of the ongoing issues with my knees I wasn’t expected to climb the stairs to visit their room.
But from time to time, I would suck it up, and do the manly thing and climb those damn stairs. On one such occasion I found that the girls had made a major concession to me and my need for neatness and order. They had collectively gotten together and created a clean space for me. In the middle of their dorm room, they and taped off a 2 ft. by 2 ft. square, and marked it “Mr. Hamilton’s Spot.” There in the middle of all the normal dorm room chaos, the shell shocked residue of a 3rd world country, was my spot, clean rug and all, I believe the girls signed their names to the masking tape they used to mark this spot. Of course there wasn’t enough room for a chair, but it was still my spot, in an otherwise cluttered world. Through the remainder of the time these three lovely young women shared a room, there was always a clean spot for me. Yes they would laugh and giggle about it; they would tease me into visiting the room just so I could stand in my spot and view the carnage. I believe one time Steph stopped me at the door so my spot could be cleaned before I came in the room. So here ends the tale of my story about neatness in a college dorm room.
I hope you enjoyed the journey.
As always if you have comments, suggestions, or concerns please feel free to contact me. Take care, Bill