Friday, June 6, 2014

Thank you, Ann

Do you remember that 90s TV show Dharma and Greg?

Where two opposite personalities dated and lived together and Greg would have to clean up after, and reign in, crazy, free-spirited Dharma?

Hi. I’m Dharma.

My former roommate Ann? She’s Greg.

No, we didn’t date each other, but almost everything else about our home life in New Orleans was like the show, including how I would get the benefit of having everything in our apartment be clean, tidy and pretty while she had the benefit of witnessing all the various pickles I got myself into.

And knowing where the next ridiculous New Orleans party was going to be held.

Or who on my kickball team was an A-hole.

(she never cared, haha)

During my three-year stint in New Orleans, Ann was my roommate the entire time, even when we moved apartments and she could have very well gotten out of our living arrangement.

(My proudest moment to date haha)

I like to think we were a Ying-Yang match, me lighting incense and having my crazy friends come over unannounced, her showing me how to work the DVR and trying to teach me how to have less clutter in my life.

I don’t think I’ve met anyone who is as level-headed and self-assured as Ann. Neurotic only about wiping the countertops, not about how EVERYONE hates me or how I look like a BOY in every single photo (um, for example.)

Ann and I knew each other in high school in New Orleans, but didn’t keep in touch until I moved back ten years later and needed a roommate, and she needed to move out of her one-bedroom apartment because of a stalker/creeper who lived next door.

We found a suitable 2-bedroom apartment in Mid-City and plopped our lives down together right by the bayou.

And, ya’ll….for the last three years, I’ve been spoiled.


Spoiled by my grown-up friend and her grown-up furniture and grown-up decorating skills.

Spoiled by the fact that the plates in the kitchen are in the correct place and that all the frying pans are in a place by themselves, away from the pots.

…Which are away from the baking dishes.

(You know, in case one day I decide to bake something.)

It was a busy three years for me in New Orleans. I had seven jobs in three years (and for an entire year, I had three different jobs simultaneously) and a hefty social life and I would regularly crash and burn (like the NON-grown up I am) and Ann was always there to make everything better as I face-planted onto the couch.

She’d laugh at my pickles.

She’d put things into perspective.

She knew that putting on episodes of The Office always made me feel better.

I always looked forward to walking into our apartment, which was always clean and organized and smelled good. And when I would sheepishly thank her for doing all that, she’d wave her hand away at me like it was no big deal.

I miss that.

She’s going to be a good wife one day.

When I asked her if she missed living with me, she replied that she misses “seeing blonde hair in the drain.”



But I miss living with Ann. I miss our French Quarter adventures, I miss dancing at French Quarter Fest (to Latin music). I miss how fancy Ann is and exclusively drinks champagne. I miss borrowing her clothes which were always hanging in her closet in their correct spot (what a concept!)

I even miss how serious she is about LSU football, turning the sound almost completely off while sitting a foot away from the TV with her head covered by a blanket haha.

(Is that how grown-ups do it??)

In her honor, I re-organized my entire kitchen when I moved back to South Carolina.


I’ve taken her life skills and have tried to channel her life attitude whenever I feel overwhelmed by nothing and everything all at once.

She’s made me a better person.

Not quite a grown up.

But a better person.

You know, when I’m face-planted on my own couch.



(Ann, standing among a likeness of my bedroom floor.)


1 comment:

  1. Over a year old and I still love it.


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