As a junior in college, I have not had the typical college experience of living with roommates. I only have second-hand stories of nightmare roommates, which include but are not limited to chugging a gallon of milk in the shower, then throwing up, shitting in the sink, and general uncleanliness. So, needless to say, I have never really felt the desire to venture out of my typical commuting comfort zone. But, easily influenced by literature, I read Anthony Bourdain’s ‘Kitchen Confidential’ last semester and decided I too needed to travel abroad, and thus I ended up with 5 roommates in a flat in London.
Outside of the state I’ve lived in for my entire life, for the very first time, I met a group of five girls with vastly different backgrounds, amazingly unique from my own. One from Upper East New York, two from different parts of Arizona, and another from the gated communities of California. I quickly found my own close friend within the bunch, and we have done everything from visiting Wales together to going out to almost every club in London.
However, having roommates isn’t as perfect as I had hoped, despite my adoration for most roommates in the flat itself. I have a hard time with differing opinions of cleanliness, how often you have to be in close proximity to others, and I often had to go to a coffee shop to get some clarity. Not to mention, the homesickness that inevitably hit me that I thought I was immune to, in combination with all of these feelings, was definitely a tough couple of weeks for me in the city for the first time.
But I think I am slowly learning to love it. The girls from my program with whom I’ve had many nights out and know will be friends with for life, the locally owned coffee shop I frequent (matcha with vanilla and strawberry always), the beautiful architecture found in alleyways, and the Wetherspoons I find myself in nearly every week.