Eat My Cherry

A birthday blog for a crazy roommate (and her birthday buddy, Jenn).

Do you know why there are so many birthdays around this time of year? Think about it for a minute, and then I will tell you. Valentine's Day. November is nine months after Valentine's Day. If you were born on the fourteenth (or a few days later especially) you can count on your conception being the result of rigid duty or careless romanticism. Nice. Those of you born before the fourteenth have it even worse--your parents couldn't wait.

That said, it is Amanda and Jenn's birthday today. Jenn always says that I have nothing worth saying about her. I would agree, but it's Wednesday. You know what that means. An ode to all things Jenn:

• Canadaopoly. No one else would ever play it with me. You saved me from myself after long, hard Mondays by keeping me company and playing that game.
• Mario Party. It was 3 AM. Neither of us could move. Neither of us would turn off that damned game.
• Doug. Most people are worth loving for their significant others. Doug is so a male you.
• Passing out in the stairwell. Did you think I'd forget? I thought you were going to die!
• Sidekicks. I always made yours for both of us. It was a sweet deal. I ate for free and you didn't have to learn how to boil water.
• Your limitless supply of everything. I'd walk into your room and you would open your top drawer and offer me every kind of snack under the sun. It always creeped me out because I reserve the top drawer for undies.
• The way you used to skulk near my half-opened door trying to decide if you should knock or leave me alone.
• The way the decision was usually based on what day of the week it was.
• You egg me on. There is no "I don't think that's such a good idea with you." As far as you're concerned, I should drink until I can't stand or draw hopscotch boards on the kitchen floor.
• Your fear of public transportation and all things "urban".
• Your English conversation group. Funniest thing I've ever heard you say: "I asked them what they thought 'the cop showed his badge' meant and they thought cop meant prostitute and badge meant bitch." Oh, Jennifer.
• Your taste in music. You were playing the song that Shane and I made fun of endlessly on our first date. Now you're listening to Smash Mouth...It's so random. It's so perfect.
• "Oh, you know..." Your signature phrase.
• Your rabbit stories. I'm really sorry Tuttles died...no, Tuttles's husband. My mistake.
• Whiskey. You make it sound like such a manly drink.
• Trips to Wendy's. How I had to fight with you for hours to take me...how you sat and watched me eat...how you called me fat and evil for making you drive...What fun.
• Your ongoing assumption that every word I say is tainted with bitterness and sarcasm.
• How often you are right.

And the roommate birthday bonanza doesn't end there...There is so much more. A moment, if you please, for all things Amanda. Here, my dear, is why I love you:

• You met me for lunch the day after you got your wisdom teeth taken out. You found out that I was into "all things foam" and took a trip with me to Michael's so that you could have foam fun too.
• Your foam finger says that you are number three. You adhere to all the rules of Weinism without understanding a single one of them.
• You make obscure family members read my blog.
• You tell obscure family members that I'm wasted when I write my blog.
• You spit all over me tonight and you are never going to live it down. I'm currently working on a master plan to replace your shower water with saliva from random people I meet on the street.
• When you say things like "eat my cherry" I can just walk away shaking my head. You know full well that I'm beyond laughing or trying to understand.
• Because tinsel is for life.
• You make me an alcoholic. Okay, for you skeptics out there, it really is Amanda's fault. Every time we want to have a drink and watch some tv, she tries to dump her drink. It's too strong. It tastes too bitter. It tastes too sweet. And you all know how I feel about wasting alcohol...so guess who drains it. Case and point: Tonight Amanda brought out a bottle of Peach wine to celebrate her birthday. No glasses. We don't need glasses. She puts it down in front of me. And that is the end of that.
• When I come home from a long day at school and don't take off my headphones because I have to pee more than I have to breathe, you think I'm mad at you.
• Every time you knock on my door and I tell you I'm naked you say, "Like that's ever stopped me before" and wait patiently for me to find my pants.
• Yahtzee.
• Ergo: (Latin) Bite me.
• You love your cat so much. Way more than me.
• You got so jealous when Shane bought me flowers.
• You hated the "book-a-month" plan, even though it was made to keep you free from looking at the flowers.
• Your ongoing belief that I have a valid opinion about what you should wear. Have you seen how I dress?
• Starbucks before the VPP meeting. I'm surprised we didn't cause a riot.
• Giggling in Lily's class. I'm not a giggler. What the hell?
• The way you hated me for playing Feather Pluckn when you wanted to listen to Lump. You are so sensitive. It's hilarious.

Alright, and if that isn't enough for you that's just too damn bad. I need to get to sleep. Exam at noon tomorrow. These personalized blogs are catching on...soon I'll have to start collecting commission. Tune in next time for some less directed hostility and bitterness--the way you like it best. Don't forget: everyone wants to be just like me--and you didn't believe me when I said that everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people. But I got the pistols. (No, I really don't.) Convert.