Furry Roommates

Bandit has to be a Momma's boy... he has his
own car seat!
(Photo: Jamie Sullivan)

Who doesn’t love puppies and kittens? Every child has that moment with their parents where they’re standing with a small furry animal in their hands and plead to their parents to take it home. I had that same look in the 7^th grade at Easter when my cousin brought a litter of puppies his dog recently had to our family gathering. And now, Bandit’s a part of the family and a total Momma’s boy. You’re welcome, Mom.

But that moment definitely takes some convincing:

“I promise I’ll take it out!”

“This could be my best friend.”

“BUT MOMMMM, LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS…”

“Dad, he’s hypoallergenic, no excuses.”

And sometimes they just look at you like you’re crazy and shut you down, crushing your hopes and dreams. So when we move out of our parents’ houses we have the ability to expand our responsibilities and possibly even add a four-legged friend to the mix.

The Austin Humane Society
(Photo: Jamie Sullivan)

When I moved into my apartment, a common piece of advice I received was that I should get a pet. It’s companionship, it makes sense. But this wasn’t something I was going to do on a whim, because getting a pet is also a pretty big responsibility. So, I decided to go to the Austin Humane Society to do some research and look at some adoption possibilities.

I talked to one of the volunteers, Alexa about what she thought about adopting a pet when you’re living alone, and about whether a dog or cat would suit me better.

“Cats are a lot less work,” she said. “I find it easier when you’re a college student to have a cat because they’re a lot more independent than dogs.”

This made a lot of sense to me, seeing as how my schedule isn’t always concrete and I’m out of the apartment for multiple hours at a time during the day. Alexa then started promoting the idea of an older cat for adoption.

“Older cats just want a bed to hide under,” she said. “They don’t ask for much but are always up for cuddling. Dogs need attention and can get depressed if they’re left alone for long periods of time and can develop anxiety issues. Apartments are more ideal for cats.”

Me and Biggs, a male cat up for adoption at
the Humane Society. He was so friendly!
(Photo: Jamie Sullivan)

Perfect! That’s really all I want (and can handle): something to be happy to see me when I come home and curl up on my lap, but not be sad and lonely while I’m away.

I tossed the idea around with my parents and we actually came up with the perfect solution: Stella.


Stella Luna is my outdoor family cat back home. When we first found her as a kitten she stayed inside for a few months before my dad’s allergies couldn’t handle it any longer. Now, she’s 9 years old, and has a sort of vendetta against my family. When we got Bandit a year after her, she would stand at the back door and look confused as to why he was allowed inside while she wasn’t. Needless to say, she’s constantly trying to sneak into the house to reclaim her territory.

She’s older, relaxed, and familiar with me. On top of that, I know she’ll worship me for giving her an entire apartment to claim as her own. So, this weekend after Easter at home, I’ll be coming back with my new furry roommate in tow!

Stella, my soon-to-be new roommate!
(Photo: Kathy Sullivan)

A Safe Haven

So how do you prevent yourself from being lonely when you’re primarily alone? This has been my biggest trial since I moved in to my new apartment over 3 months ago.

Generally, I’m a highly social person. I love going out and spending time with my friends, and finding any excuse to get out really. Now, however, I find it to be a different dynamic now that I’m living alone. I started to feel lonely… often.

Initially, it seemed like all my friends and their moms (literally) were concerned about my living condition. They didn’t want me to get depressed and were constantly checking in on me and asking me to go out. Obviously, the swell would end after they were confident that I wasn’t about to become a hoarder and sink into a bout of depression. So there was a month lull where the calls stopped coming in as often, and I realized I was spending more and more time alone in my apartment.

A common outing spot for me and my friends, Wahoo's,
 has delicious chicken!
(Photo: Jamie Sullivan)

Finally, one day, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I made a vow to myself that I wouldn’t be a recluse and I’d put an end to my depressing loneliness. I realized that I was easier to forget now that I didn’t have a roommate whose mind I could constantly be around or interacting with. I decided to take on a proactive outlook instead of having the mentality of “no one wants to play with me.”

If you want to make things happen, then the only person who can make them happen is you. I started to take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to be considerate of anyone in my apartment but me.

If a friend is visiting from out of town, crash at my place! Need to get away from your roommate who’s driving you crazy? Just drop on by, I’ll listen to your complaints. I’ve allowed my friends to transform and use my place as their own safe haven.

This past award season, my apartment became host to all the viewing parties that major television had to offer. My friends and I laughed at the Super Bowl blackout and commercials, and drooled over Beyonce’s performance. We cried during the Oscar speeches, and sang along during the Grammy’s. I opened my apartment up for communal gatherings and adopted an open door policy, and my friends came strolling in.

We all gasped when Jennifer Lawrence tripped on her
way to accept her Best Actress Oscar
(Photo:www.news.com.au)

This last Sunday, I finally decided to have my first little dinner party. After spring break, I came home fully stocked with groceries thanks to my adoring parents who think I survive off of fast food, which I don’t.

Well, usually.

So I laid out a spread of salmon and cheeses and sausage and invited over some friends. Add some wine into the mix, and this apartment of mine fully enveloped the communal haven I’ve been striving for. We vented, laughed, gave advice, and of course gossiped until we ran out of things to talk about and our bellies were full.

The lovely spread I put out for my small dinner party
(Photo: Jamie Sullivan)

It may have taken a while, but was once just my apartment is finally starting to feel like my home.

From Five, to One, to None

How do I start this? I guess I should start at the beginning. A year ago from this day, I lived in a wonderful 4 bedroom with 5 other girls. Go back 6 months from today and I lived in a lovely 2 bedroom with only one roommate, my brother. And today, I still live in the same area, only now I fly solo in a 1 bedroom. 

So now that I live on my own, I’ve decided to write about my journey as a student at The University of Texas at Austin who has found themselves roommate-less. But, I find it only fair that I give a little background as to how I got into this situation.

After all, I don’t want people to think that I’m a sociopathic leper.

At first there were five, six including myself, at Hula Hut 

for dinner. 

Jan. 2012

Photo by: Jamie Sullivan

When 6 girls are confined to one apartment things tend to become… cramped. Personal space becomes almost nonexistent. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my experience with those girls for the world, but I wouldn’t ever want to be trapped around that much estrogen again in my life.

I lived in one of the extra-large bedrooms with my best friend, Natashia. We shared floor space, a TV, and whatever sanity was lying around. If she wasn’t my soul mate, I probably would have smothered her in her sleep. Unfortunately, my relationship with other girls in the apartment wasn’t as unconditional.

Me and my roommate, Natashia, in our generally

 avoided living room (and yes, we're wearing

matching wedges).
(Photo by: Jamie Sullivan)

There was tension. And dirty dishes. And a snarky thermostat that seemed to mysteriously change its own temperature (we know it was you, Glenda). It got to the point that Natashia and I would avoid the common area and kitchen for fear of being caught up in meaningless conversation that we’d already heard from another roommate. It was exhausting.

When it came time to find a new living situation I knew that I wanted to downsize. That’s where my older brother, Shelby, comes in. This also requires some background knowledge in order for my progression to make sense.

My first semester at UT was also when my brother, also a UT student, first went off to rehab for opiate addiction. Over the next three years, there was disenrollment, relapses, reenrollment, etc. Needless to say, my college career has been riddled with emotional stress stemming from my brother’s substance abuse. And then, last summer, my brother spent 5 months in Maine in a sober home getting healthy and ready for school in the fall. 

However, he needed a new apartment. My parents saw it as an all-around win. They only have to pay one rent, Shelby gets a support system and a healthy environment, and we both get a place to live.

Unfortunately, my living with my brother only lasted two months. Early in October, I came home from the library one night and my brother had overdosed on heroin. It was too late by the time the ambulance got to our apartment. He was 24 years old. 

To two: me and my brother Shelby.

(Photo by: Jamie Sullivan)

Now, I’m not trying to elaborate on the emotional turmoil I went through, and am still going through due to the loss of my brother, but it does play an obvious dynamic as to how I’m living now.

So, the search for a new apartment was on. I have to admit, finding a new apartment in the middle of the semester wasn’t easy. It was slim pickings out there in West Campus. I wasn’t able to move until January, but thankfully I didn’t have to settle for a place that was infested with cockroaches or had a creepy stairwell that I would have inevitably broken my neck traversing.

So I went from 5 roommates, to 1 roommate, to none. It’s just me, and I have to say I haven’t completely gotten used to it. There’s no one to come home to, but there’salso no one to clean up after. There are many pros and cons, and it’s an even bigger adjustment for me because I didn’t choose to be in this situation.

 I’m not a sociopath, I’m not a leper, I live in a one bedroom because life throws curveballs and sometimes the universe doesn’t make sense.

To one: Now I'm on my own, but I can still

make colorful cookies for Christmas!

(Photo by: Miki Goetsch)

How am I dealing with this new territory? Well, that’s what I intend to elaborate upon in my future postings. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride... but at least there are no dirty dishes, right?