I have had some crazy dreams lately.

A few days ago I dreamed that I witnessed a plane crash that took of the top of the place where I am living, but left my own apartment unharmed, where everything else around me looked like a place of disaster.

Didn’t analyze that dream.

So last night I had one that felt so real, that I almost had to recheck where I were when I woke up.

This time it were some rather familiar settings, because I dreamed about the last day – or one of – in San Francisco where I took both my bachelor and masters, and still miss my time or rather the city and life I had there at that time.

With the exception of the first month, then I shared apartments with other female students, straight, lesbian and everything in-between, and that was one of my crazier periods of my life – In a good way I mean.

It’s not that I am one of these who always wish that they could go back to uni, well, okay maybe some part of me do once in a blue moon, but I am where I am now and I am for most parts quite happy about my life now. But it could be fun to revisit if you had a time machine to spare.

The last two years were shared with 3 other lesbian women – or rather young women, compared with today, who at the same time had their minds set for the future, and I think that I learned more about life,  myself and simply being a woman with them, than with any other in that period of my life.

Living with them who by far were smarter than me, or at least more outspoken, argumentative and weren’t shy to stand up for what they believed in, often doing all that while farting on the toilet – yes guys. Women tend to do that too!

I don’t know why, but when I think back to the last year, I always tend to remember one of us yelling from the toilet, with the door fully open, continuing whatever conversation that we had with each other and I guess that was quite typical in our small group. No one wanted to miss a thing or a conversation, so doors were kept open almost all the time. Well, with the exception of bedrooms while sleeping – or doing hmm “other” things.

We had plenty of drama and loud verbal arguments with each other too, where one or more for a few days refused to speak to each other, but most of the time, or at least the way I recall it, then there were more good days and periods than bad – and we did stay together for almost two years.

It was quite a change from the first year where I shared a place with a mixed Taiwanese / Japanese girl who were all “must study hard” business, and who had no time for fun or getting to know the city. I don’t know what happened to her, because I lost contact with her the moment I moved out, and did have the feeling that she didn’t like me much either.

But maybe I weren’t that good a roommate either at that time. My mom had cut me of, and demanded that no one in the family supported me, so dad through my sister and brother helped me out in secret, but in constant fear that she found out about that he helped me. My dad being twice my moms size (in both ways) could get awful scared of mom. The support ban lasted almost the first whole year, and only ended when my brother casually told my mom a lie and said to her that I had to do stripping to support myself because of her. I think everyone in Singapore could hear a “Gaah!” that day.

So everything from trying to learn a new city to be on my own and getting things stretched far enough to live by, then I guess that as a roommate, then I weren’t the perfect ideal for someone who had their things together and focused on what they wanted.

The time between the first roommate and then the last group were a mix of all races and sexual interests, that in many ways were fun, interesting and heartwarming. Or at least that is how I choose to recall it.

I were never that hard set on studying, because compared to what I was used to from back in Singapore among other, then studying in California could be done with a blind eye and still get good grades. Besides, one of my earlier teachers said this “You don’t learn about life and your place in it while studying it. Live your life and then study it.”. I guess I took that rather literal.

Back to my group here. Moving in with them were to say it politely, an earth shattering and mental experience to me. I were up until that day, rather hmm, wouldn’t call it shy, but maybe more “private” who needed a lot of personal space, at least the one who got to see any part of my body outside a beach were lovers or would be lovers.

To experience other women who openly shared the morning toilet, and could walk around in only a bra or topless in the kitchen in the morning, were to me mind blowing – in a nonsexual way. There were nothing sexual about it in any way whatsoever and I were a person who would not leave my bedroom without being fully clothed – or close to it. Exposing anything to anyone were not on my mind at all. So I did have an OMG-what-kind-of-place-is-this out of the body experience when I first move in.

That is until the day, about a week after I moved in, where “L”, said “Sweetie, you know it is not okay to occupy the toilet in the morning. There is only one, so we need to share for all of us to make it”.

One morning, a few days after, I dared myself to not lock the toilet door while peeing, and lo and behold. Who is walking in with a toothbrush in her mouth? “L”, and began to exploring her zits in the bathroom mirror while I were trying to finish so I could get out in a hurry. I don’t know about you, but I am not able to pee when I tense up, so all I could do were to sit there while trying to hide in my hair.

The first months with them were a rather steep learning curve in personal development for me, but over time I got used to what they found normal – I am not sure many other did – and even managed to get comfortable in it all. So yea, my period with them is in many ways greatly missed because despite the thousands of arguments and close to hair pulling fights there were there, then I loved living at that place with them all and their occasional girlfriends.

Besides I would not have known a fraction of San Francisco without them.

Where are my roommates now? One of them is a typical Noe Valley stay at home (lesbian) soccer mom, who until recently did PR for a rather large IT company that you *hm* know quite well. Another is in jail for drug possession of some sort. She never got an internship or a job where she wanted. That is actually interesting because of the four of us, she were the one with the best grades and the one we all thought who would make it big. The last one and maybe the most normal and balanced of us, is doing everything right and doing it quite well professionally in NYC while balancing the difficult task of 2 adoring children and managing a career in a predominantly male oriented job. So good for her. Well, and then there are me.


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