Needless to say, since we're all a little rusty playing "slumber party," perhaps some of you are a little worried that you'll get on each others' nerves or something. Personally, I'm pretty unflappable when it comes to sharing spaces with people. Thanks to my perpetual state of "brokedom", I've always had multiple housemates and I've spent more than enough road trips crammed into a tiny hotel room with six stinky dudes. Or girls. But usually I end up with dudes. Huh, I might need to revisit that revelation.
So, yeah, after spending a couple of evenings watching a bunch of guys wandering around in their underwear, farting and doing things I don't even want to think, much less tell, you about, I'm pretty sure that I can handle just about anything. I mean, as long as someone doesn't stick my toothbrush up their butt, defile my clothing, or pee in my shampoo bottle, I'm all good.
However, this didn't stop me from being a tad nervous when STY and agreed to shared not just a room, but a bed (thanks to our usual better-late-than-never planning skillz) during BlogHer. STY and I are totally tight--two peas in a pod, if you will--but we had never, ever spent the night together (Hey! It's not like we know we each other in the biblical sense, you dirty cooches!!).
We talked about our little quirks here and there but in the end, mainly because Snarkier Than You did not stick my toothbrush into any of her orifices or poop in my suitcase, everything went swimmingly.
There was one thing I forgot to mention to STY and I probably should have because, like I said, I can pretty much handle anything but, fortheloveofallthatisholy DO NOT WAKE ME UP. **
Because I will fucking kill you. Promise.
No, seriously, I want to fuck people up in the morning. It's like I go from "dead-asleep-to-apoplectic-motherfucking-rage" in one little beeeeeep of the alarm clock. So, who wants to stay in our room??
I am not a morning person and never have been. My parents used to flip coins to see who had to venture into my room to wake me up as a teenager; it was THAT much of a shitshow. In general, the first thing I think every single morning is "fuuuuuuuck." [Note from STY: JJ was two-for-two during our short residence at the Hilton and three-for-three if I add in the "fuuuuck!" that was texted to me the morning we headed to the conference at the ass-crack of dawn.]
When our wake-up call came in at 7 am that Saturday morning, I rolled over, grabbed the phone, growled "fuck you" at the recording and slammed it down into the receiver to resume sleeping.
Nope, definitely not a morning person.
Want to know how STY managed to not only take this picture but then tweet it to the masses without me killing her? Because I was asleep, people. She's lucky I love her.
STY, on the hand, appears to be. Or maybe she really is a vampire and doesn't actually sleep because I have no idea how someone can be... that awake, that early. And I mean like really awake, not just eyes-open-staring-off-into-space awake... We're talking actually functional and ready to chat. It's fucking inhuman.
I don't know how long she was lying there, probably willing me to wake up, but the moment I moved STY began talking, all chipper and shit. I swear to OME that I was almost expecting songbirds to pull back our curtains or something, she was that cheery. There she is lying in the bed next to me, chatting animatedly while I was curled up in the sheets and wondering which method of murdering her would use up the least amount of my energy.
STY: Oh mah gahd, I'm so blah blah blah awake! I mean, blah blabahdy blah blah, it's like this flip has been switched on in my brain and that's IT. You know?? I'm UP. I just can't fall back asleep.Needless to say, on Sunday morning poor STY was kind of creeping around the hotel room and I woke up to a big ol' cup of Starbucks coffee (and banana bread!) as a peace offering before she raced into the bathroom and slammed the door. That woman learns fast, seriously. [note from STY: I have a healthy fear of death.]
Me: [trying not to snarl] I can.
STY: [pause] Is that a hint?
So you see, there's always a bit of a learning curve when you share a room with someone you haven't before. The best thing to do is actually talk to one another. Does your roommate turn into a chainsaw with tits the second she hits her REM cycle? Invest in ear plugs or maybe a taser. Prone to sleepwalking? Maybe your roommate has Bella-esque worthy bouts of bellowing and screaming in her sleep!
Just come prepared with duct tape and a ball gag. You'll get along great!!
**Latchkey Wife's note - You may have mentioned this little tidbit of info at one point or another and this is why, when visiting you, I quietly got up at my regular time, took a shit and a shower, and went back to my room until I heard Mrs. Grumpy Pants stir... and only then did I dare show my face!