Living Arrangements

In March 2011, I moved back to the U.S. from an Exotic Asian Country after over four years away. To save money and to ease back into being American, I lived with my mom. This worked fine at first. I spent a month training for a half marathon then jetted off to an Exotic South American country. When I got back in mid-May, I was broke and jobless and grateful to live with her. Fast forward to August. I was ready to stab the pope in the face if it meant I could move out.

Enter Tilda.

I’ve known Tilda for many, many, many years. I believe we first met at mutual friend’s 7th birthday party but really became friends in the 6th grade. Tilda had been in San Francisco since finishing school and she was one of the first hipsters, before the word even existed. For the past couple of years, she had been living in an apartment in FillPacJap (intersection of the Fillmore, lower Pac Heights, and Japantown), and her flatmate just moved to L.A. She was looking for someone to move in and was I interested? Oh yes, I was interested. I gave my mom notice (“Peace the eff out, this little birdie is flying from the nest!”) and moved in on the first of September.

We’re nearly a year in and it has been magical. We have no boundaries and will do disgusting things such as poop with the door open, announce our farts, and call each other unrepeatable slurs. There is something incredibly liberating about living with someone who has known you for so long and can remember embarrassing shit you did in the 8th grade.

Our apartment is technically a one-bedroom but we sacrificed a sitting room for cheaper rent. Tilda lives in that space and as she has no door, it can get awkward if she has a gentleman caller. I have weird control issues about the kitchen and have been told to “Shut the fuck UUUUPPPP!!!” when I try to offer too much constructive criticism. It can be tough living in such close quarters but we make of it what we can. There are some benefits, like sharing make up and hair products, hoarding our food together, and pretty much always having someone we can bitch to. It’s a good living arrangement.