The night drolled on as the storm settled in loud and strong. I sat on the floor of my dorm room cutting paper dolls out of old magazine articles from last months Vogue. My roommate was off somewhere being a babbling idiot down in the cafeteria 3 floors down. She was that girl you go to collage with that everyone who lives on campus, and a few that don't, has a story of some kind starring her as the big drama to tell about years later. Which is fine if its just you and some friends kicking back and remembering those found little memories that will always give you a little chuckle when you tell it, mostly cause who ever is telling it as thankful that they are not "that girl". But when you live with that girl, those cute little stories you might want to share later suddenly become overwhelming and you find yourself slowly dissolving from who you stated the year off as and becoming " that girl's roommate"
The rain suddenly begins pounding loudly at my window and the room flashes brightly and rumbles loudly for a few seconds. I get up and pull the duck covered curtains aside and try to see if the lightening strike was anywhere near by. Nothing stands out but I can see the flashing Red lights and roaring siren go on and fly into motion on the other end of campus, so i know it hit something close.
I turn from the window and return to my perfect mess of Vogue paper dolls I'd been working on for this semesters Art final. It is my own personal interposition of how the entertainment industry wants to be defined as The Arts yet they allow the disillusions of immortality to define them with about same amount of value as my flimsy little paper people glued down around my essay some of which will pop up as the pages turn. I've been working on it all month and it is due in less than a week making half my grade in one fell swoop.
I begin cutting tiny dolls out of an advertisement for this years American Idol when I can hear hooting and hollowing slowly climbing the stairs and getting ready to spill onto my floor. This happens at least 3 or 4 times a week with no warning, especially when that girl is involved. I quickly finish cutting the idol dolls and place them in the folds of the pages to be secured later. Then in one large scoop that I have mastered of the months I pick everything up and bring it over to my bed for safe keeping from the endless night that is now approaching.
My roommate comes busting through the door with a huge smile on her face as she stumbles over to me. " HEY, Bec! You don't mind a small social gathering of friends here on the floor here to lift you into some good spirits now dooo ya???" she actually pokes me on the nose with the last word, leaving me with really no choice here. I can either agree and no harm done or I can tell her I do mind and have her make such a big huge scene over it all, everyday for the rest of the year, that I'll want to transfer schools next year. I look at her and give her my best I hate you smile and say, " Why Not."
She hops up and down like a little rabbit for a few seconds and then goes and flicks on her stereo good and loud. The sounds of the storm are washed away by the sudden screeches of the BG'ees Live in concert CD. I lean back against my bed and begin to plot my revenge for an entire year of me wanting dive out my own window. I push myself forward and walk into the hallway to see all of Amy's latest fake friends filling in all the empty spaces with the promise of drunken fun on the tips of their tongues. All of this probably wouldn't even bother me if the rolls were reversed and I was filling someone else's hallway ready to have fun and let loose on finals week. And there are other dorms doing the same thing right now I'm sure, but 2 weeks ago I went to a party to avoid the one happening where i live and came back to find my essay on contemporized art in music video in flames on my bed with my roommates sometimes boyfriend Chet singing a Bob Dylan songs and video taping the burning of my bed and Amy standing next to it making Somers.
Two long hours go by and Amy needs someone to help her go to the bath room. I figure this would be as good a time as any. I slip in our room and grab a small bag, tie my hair back and put on a baseball cap. I bring a different t-shirt with me and put a jacket on and go back into the hall to help her as she flails around though her best I throw the party now someone help me pee temper tantrum. I take her arm and guide her down the hall to the bathroom. I find and empty stall and help her in, sitting her down on the seat. She looks up and I give her my big I hate your smile again. " You, you look fimmillarrs. Do we know each other?" Amy asks me and I say nothing.
"WELL!" she shouts and I reach into my back and pull out the electric razor that Chet had left in our room last week and smile twice as big. "Woo" Amy says and sits up straighter. "That's my boyfriends!" It really doesn't surprise me that she would be able to recognize that before an actual human being. I Click it on and she just looks at me unsure as to what will happen next. I put it to the top of her hair line right in the center and watch as she looks up to see still saying nothing. So I do what ever any over tired feed up roommate would do, I begin at the top and go all the way around until there is no hair left. When I'm done I leave the electric razor at her feet in a pile of her hair and leave the stall, closing the door to it behind me. I take the shirt and jacket and stick them in the trash can along with the hat. I take my hair back down and put on my other t-shirt. From behind the door I see her reach down and pick up a handful of hair, the other hand picks up the Electric razor.
The door opens and a couple of girls stumble in. They notice all the hair on the floor give each other puzzling looks. Amy starts to play with the razor turning it on and off and giggling. The 2 girls push open the door and spit out a mouth full of laughter. " This is neat." Amy says and the 2 girls pick her up and take her to the mirror to show her what she has done. Amy stares in good and close and asks "who's shaved head is that?"
Satisfied I leave the bathroom and go back to my room to finish my final paper.