It started off with a giggle. In the background. And then a cry of “Stop it!” while faint laughter leaked through my iPhone’s speakers. My man chuckled a little on his end of the line.
“What’s that?” I try to throw the words off nonchalantly.
You see, I’m trying hard to not appear ‘crazy’. ‘Crazy’ is the worst thing a girl can be! “That girl’s a bitch” is a compliment in comparison to “That girl is CRAZY.” It’s like code for “you can sleep with her but don’t try to talk to her,” “definitely stalker material,” “she’s desperate, lonely, low self-esteemed, and erratic… yeah, I slept with her but that’s it. Cuz she’s craaaaazy.”
“What?” he responds, a bit distracted.
“What’s that?” I try to purr, but even I note that a wonderfully strangled quality has entered the timbre of my voice.
“Ah, that’s just Shenandoah, my roommate. I threw something at her.” he returns to the phone, a little breathless.
Ah Shenandoah. She’s the HOT roommate. (Well, housemate, but roommate is an interchangeable term. Wait! IS it????) She’s the sassy blond with to-die-for legs and the cooking skills of the Food Network at her fingertips. Oh fiddlisticks! He’s roommates with a real-life Giada de Laurentiis!
I’m trying hard to control the crazy monster.
“You know what they’re doing right now right?” Crazy monster says to me. “He’s slapping her ass!” I squeeze my eyes closed at the thought. Yes! He must be slapping her ass! She’s slapping his! They do this all the time!
“You know they like to go into the sauna… together…. NAKED,” Crazy monster is taunting.
I try to close my ears! I try to reason with Crazy monster, “It’s because they’re…. they’re…. EUROPEAN! It’s a very European thing to do! Look at the beaches in France! It’s nothing! It’s absolutely nothing! Americans are just uptight! We should be applauding them! And it’s not ‘naked’, it’s… um… nude! It’s classy!” I argue.
“You know he’s kissing her on the lips!” Crazy monster insinuates. Crazy monster is right! I’ve seen them! “Hello hon!” “Hello roomie!” “Good morning!” “I’m leaving for work.” “I’ll see you later.” “Oh look you’re home!” “I made dinner for you!” “Oh you shouldn’t have!” “I thought you’d need it. You’ve been looking tired.” “I really appreciate it.” “I know. I can read your thoughts.” “Oh ho! You make me laugh when I’m so blue.” “Well, you’re the best roommate ever.” “You’re my best friend.” “No, you’re MY best friend.” “Stop it.” “YOU stop it!” KISS, KISS, SMACK ON THE ASS, LUNGE AT THE TICKLE SPOT, LIFT HER UP IN THE AIR, SHE LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY, THEY HAVE A HUGE TICKLE FIGHT, HER BLOND HAIR IS TOSSING GRACEFULLY IN SLOW MOTION AS THEY’RE ROLLING ON THE FLOOR, HE PINS HER DOWN, THEY’RE PANTING AND STARING DEEPLY INTO EACH OTHER’S EYES WHILE “I’VE HAD THE TIME OF MY LIFE” IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND……all while I’m on the phone, trying to NOT sound crazy saying, “What’s that?”
“Hello? Hello?” my phone is urgently trying to get my attention. Oh, it’s my man.
“Where’d you go there?” he tries to lighten the mood because apparently, my tone of “What’s that?” had hints of pending PMS-EXPLOSION.
I am now full of imaginary scenarios -complete with soundtracks!- in my head. I just watched an entire new version of When Harry Met Sally starring my man and his roommate.. ALL IN MY HEAD. And somehow, I’m not even a supporting character IN MY OWN FILM?!?! How is this possible?!?!
I’m losing it. If I open my mouth, crazy talk will come out. “You don’t love me! Love me! Come back! I want to play Sally! I’m the Sally in the movie! ME! ME!!! I’m YOUR Sally! Whaaaaaaaa!”
A light goes off in my head. “Hon, I have to go.” I say brightly. Of course, it’s the best way! If I don’t talk, he won’t KNOW I’m crazy! I shoo Crazy monster away.
“Okaaaay… what’s going on?” he questions.
“Nothing! I just.. need to go!” I say again, bright and furry and bushy-tailed full of artificial sunshine. “Yup. Gotta go. Gotta… clean the kitty litter. So long! Bye! Farewell! That’s a song from Sound of Music, you know.. hahaha! Okay, I’m going now. I mean it! Have a good night! Byyyyyyyyyyye!” I laugh to cover up the fact that my throat is constricted. I’m trying to be emotionally stable dammit!!! Whaaaa!
I hang up. Exhausted from all the thoughts running in my head. I’m sad too, since it’s work to collect such random thinking. I bet if I was the hot roommate I would’ve figured out the solution. (Yeah, she’s wicked smart too.) Sigh. She’s PERFECT!
My phone announces a text. “I love you.” it reads. It’s from the man. My man loves a crazy woman. Crazy boy.