Craigslist Crazies

During my most extended period of flux, I was under the delusion that signing a lease for an apartment in New York would ruin my life. It would hold me hostage, weigh me down, and become the kind of situation it would be impossible to extricate myself from. I'd never be able to get back to my parents (4.5 hours away) if Dad had another emergency. I'd never get home to London if I was saddled with a New York apartment!

Long story short, for whatever reason, I was delusional. And it led to me living for at least a month (or at least meeting with) with every freakshow and nutjob that Craigslist could pony up under the guise of "Short Term Sublet."

I'm not sure what led me down this path of insanity. I'd had such a wonderful roommate for my first 2 years (as previously mentioned) that you'd think I would just find another good friend to live with. But by the time I was back in NY, most of my friends had their lives and apartments sorted out. I crashed on couches (such. generous. friends) for quite some time, but when it came to my situation, permanence was the furthest thing from reach. So I ended up sharing my precious space, and wasting my precious time with a revolving door of crazy. Some of the best? Keep reading...

Hall of Famers:
* 2 girls and a French Weirdo: This apartment was so odd, because there was one nice bedroom, and 2 storage closets that she rented out to desperate people like me....and Pierre. Pierre, who couldn't really speak English, stayed out all night, and didn't understand the concept of personal space. It was a miserable month of sleeping on an air mattress and shouting "Pierre! Please shut up!" through the thin wall that separated our closet living spaces. The culmination? I got locked out at 3am the day I was due to move out and STILL had to pay $200 for a locksmith to get back into the apartment.

*Banker Girl: This was undoubtedly the swankiest apartment I ever stayed in, on the 21st floor of a swishy building near Times Square. My roommate was an air-headed young lady who worked high up for Bank of America, yet had no common sense (I'm pretty sure she shares a large responsibility for the economic collapse). The most uncomfortable thing ever was when she flaunted bringing home a man who was not her boyfriend (who had been so sweet in helping her move in). When they came out of her bedroom the next morning, it was all I could do to not smack her in the face. Stupid AND a cheater? Damn, I can pick 'em.

* The Couch Potato: I lived in this apartment for 2 months. The teacher with whom I lived was firmly planted on the couch for the majority of that duration. Morning and night I would open the door to find her there. I understand teachers work really REALLY hard during the school year, but to spend the whole summer on the couch watching Bravo is a giant waste of your life.

* Drama Club: I couldn't live with this girl. She was like if Miley Cyrus and Anne Hathaway had been cross-bred in a horrible experiment to produce the most hyper drama club nerd of all time. She started singing within 5 minutes of meeting me. Deal Breaker.

* Stoner McBro: I couldn't live with him either. Because he introduced himself....and then his bong, which sat on the kitchen table next to the Frosted Flakes.

* Religious Zealots: I lived with two intense church-goers for a few months while my play was in production. They were unfortunately the kind of church-goers who don't really follow the teachings of the Bible. You know. They're full of judgement, and hypocrisy (I actually told off the young man, for referring to something he saw on TV as "super faggy.") I truly think he might have been gay, and bashing things that he was scared he saw in himself. Ideas beyond their own understanding of the world were outright sneered at. I eventually started to (and I know, this was immature on my part) come home later and louder. I was their "artist subletter" regarded with the same fear as a wild animal. They would be playing cards with their church friends, and I would come in, with lots of makeup and stories of a crazy night. The men were goggle-eyed, the women scowled and pulled them closer. It was too easy. But I was tired of judgement. Weren't they supposed to leave that to Revelations?

* Cat sitting: This was actually a wonderful sublet...watch over a beautiful studio apartment, complete with piano, and take care of a snuggly, neurotic cat. Done and Done! This was during my relationship with P, the last place I lived before he and I moved in together. That apartment was like our trial home. Most nights, I'd cook dinner, and he'd play songs for me on the piano, then we'd snuggle up with the cat in front of the TV. It was like playing perfect house, in someone else's home.

I guess the lesson that came out of the experience is to really treasure those with whom I spend my time. Home isn't where your rump rests (thanks Pumbaa, I need to stop taking my life lessons from The Lion King) but a culmination of comfort and happiness in your surroundings. My current roommate is an amazing woman, and we really love spending time together in our home. We do all the fun silly things girls do....drink margaritas, watch Downton Abbey, talk about boys, and drink more margaritas.