Does Tilly Want a Roommate?

I don't know. Seriously. I mean, I liked my first experience with roommates. My family. For the most part. Besides the times that my older brother was gleaking on me to get the remote control. Or my parents were catching me coming home wasted. Or my younger brother was tormenting me about being adopted. All in all, they were pretty decent roommates. I moved around a lot growing up, but since I was the only girl, I usually got my own bathroom. Snap! And I always had my own room (after age 2). One time I even had my own entrance. Whoa. Big time.

My college roommates were pretty dope as well (after freshman year, that is. Sorry MC, but you were worse than my Mom with the "rules." So I basically moved into my boyfriend's dorm room.) Anyway. Again, we each got our own room, but I shared my bathroom with DB. She was clean enough and she didn't take too long in there. My favorite part of the bathroom was the stickers. See, at this time in my life I was what some may refer to as a "hippie." Fine. I said it. We used to wear small stickers just above the corner of our eyes. Every. Day. To class. Yeah. They were typically stars or small butterflies. Good times. But we would put them on the mirror as we de-stickered each evening and by the end of our two years there, the mirror sure was purty. A bitch to get off, but purty.

After college, I reverted to sharing not only a bedroom, but a bed with KB. [No, you cannot come over to WATCH US SLEEP(?)] Hey, rent was super cheap that way and our cute Colorado ski town was expensive. We never fought once, but mainly because we held opposite hours. She worked super early in the morning and just had to climb over my body on the floor in the morning, since, apparently, I "hadn't wanted to wake her." Fine, I passed out...in my work clothes (long underwear, ski pants, ski jacket, boots, etc.). What? Elevation, hello? Other times GoatBoy and I would sleep (read: pass out naked) on the pull-out couch. Good Morning KB!

Then I lived with GoatBoy in Boston during grad school. So-so roomie. When he left for greener (aka suckier educational) pastures, it was me and DB once again. But this time my "living room" was her "bedroom." The lumberjack lesbians lived upstairs and wrestled each Tuesday night. Must've been quite the competition, as it went on for hours. We shared a bathroom, although there were fewer stickers and more make-up. Hey, we were growing up!

Moved to be with GoatBoy, technically lived "alone," but we all know how that is. Officically moved in with GoatBoy again. Eh, not so much. Broke up with GoatBoy. Lived alone. LOVED living alone. Single and alone. My shit was my shit. I could watch 'Gilmore Girls' in peace. Hey, even 'One Tree Hill' or 'What I Like About You' if I so desired. New boys in and out. Whatever the hell I wanted.

Moved to Chicago. Live alone. Same thing...my shit, my choices, my independence, my cereal for dinner if I want, my bed, my bad decisions, my music, etc. etc. etc. But sometimes, you know, it's just kinda boring. With roommates comes more drama, more potentially awkward conversations, more people in and out, and more courteous behavior required. But with that, comes more excitement, more potentially interesting discussions, more people in and out, and more thoughtful behavior.

Which brings me to my question: Does Tilly want a roommate?

Yes, I think she does. I think she does indeed.