Goodbye, Roommate #2

It is the last night Melanie will spend in this house, with us, Gamma Gamma Gimmel, the Jewish sorority.

I am sad.

Anyone who has read my books knows I have a very hard time saying goodbye. My sentimental side rears its ugly head, and I dissolve into a weepy, nostalgic mess. It seems like just yesterday that she came back from New York temporarily and dropped the bomb, “Susan, can I come back and live here?”

And my response: “Hell no!”

“What?” she asked at the time, somewhere around last spring. “You didn’t think I was a good roommate? I turned the lights off when I left the room. I mean, when I remembered.”

And I had told her, “Dude, there’s just not enough room. There’s already three people living here and four cats. We’re cramped as it is.” How could I give up my spare room to a former roommate, coming back into town, who has the gall to ask if she could move back in?

But I did.

And for the last year, Claudia, Melanie and I have been GGG, our euphemism for the Jewish sorority house. (There’s a reason why it’s GGG, but I can’t reveal it here. Sorority rules.)

And so the house moves into a new era, where such phrases as, “There’s panties in there” and “Are you gonna eat the rest of that?” were coined. It’s not even as fun to make out with my boyfriend anymore right in front of the windows, because there will be no one to say “Ew!” anymore.

I know change is supposed to be good, and I guess I have to accept that.

But like a typical New York Jew, (which I’m not, but Melanie has her ways of influence), I live in the past and not the present.

Tomorrow starts our road trip, S & M in the USA.

Mental note: Bring CDs, laptop charger, and tissues.