Dear Kenyon Community,
Let’s face it: roommates can be tough.
Not only are you forced to live with another human being, but you’re also expected to accommodate ALL of their lifestyle choices. Gross! Now, if you’re like me, you sometimes get frustrated by the things your roommate does. Also, if you’re like me, you’re currently sitting in the Kenyon College counseling office, waiting to face the consequences of plunging a No. 2 pencil into your roommate’s left breast.
Now, as I am currently (temporarily) barred from attending classes, the Kenyon Administration has given me ample time to reflect on my alleged mistakes. As such, I’m taking this opportunity to tell you all exactly why that one-tit-wonder had it coming.
Picture this: it is your first morning on The Hill. You’re tucked into your 200-thread-count Walmart sheets, probably dreaming of Peirce tacos or Sean Decatur’s comforting-yet-deeply-sensual voice. Then, at around 5:30 AM, you’re shaken from your slumber by a loud and unfamiliar noise. Is it a fire drill, you wonder? No, it’s just your roommate’s morning alarm, which is, of course, Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca.”
On your second day, you realize that your roommate is noticeably unvaccinated. I mean, honestly — for someone who spends upwards of 45 daily minutes perfecting her eyeliner, you’d expect her to at least notice that her body is literally covered in Buboes. You attempt to coax her into the health center, but she escapes from your grasp and scampers off into the woods.
A couple of days later, you meet your roommate’s communist boyfriend, who talks about the Chicago Bears and leaves crumbs in your bed. You begin locking your door.
Around a month in, you notice a pattern — in an effort to let the whole world know that she’s a radical feminist, your roommate begins and ends every one of her menstrual cycles with a reading from Gloria Steinem’s “My Life on the Road.” Thanks to this ritual, you discover that your roommate’s period occurs approximately three times a month.
At this point, you’ve had enough — your bags are packed, your forms are signed, and you’re ready to move into that Lewis Triple. Then, your roommate announces her plans to become a film major, and you decide to make a molehill out of a mountain, so to speak.
And that, Kenyon Community, is precisely why I am headed home with an arrest warrant and 300,000 dollars in emotional distress charges. While I still strongly believe that my actions were well within the Kenyon code of conduct—and that a truly ethical administration would absolve me of my sins—I have accepted my fate. Fellow students, I’ve made my bed, and now I must lie in it.
Hasta La Vista,