Housemate meme

meme n : a cultural unit (an idea or value or pattern of behavior) that is passed from one generation to another by nongenetic means (as by imitation);

I’ve never done a meme on my blog, but this one is at the suggestion of BSharp (see April, 2005). Whether or not it's interesting to anyone is another matter (this is your cue to comment at end of this entry, especially if you read this from time to time and have never commented!!)

My first ever share house started out as a dream of cooperation and happiness, full of likeminded Post Grad students who didn’t want house matters to be a hassle. We pooled grocery shopping resources, and took it in turns to shop and cook. I realized later that no sharehouse would ever be so good. I had a reunion with 1) and 2) in Italy whilst traveling there in ’98, and am still in touch with 1) who is still with girlfriend plus gorgeous baby.

Sharehouse 1.1: Parkside Vunderhaus!!

1) Manfred: der lovesik (sic) Deutschlander!
Manfred was (is) adorable. Big, sturdy frame, gentle manner, and a round expressive face that I suspect made up for his sometimes lacking English. In an accident of visa applications, his long-term girlfriend Doris was not able to join him in Australia, and to make up for this, Manfred worked darn hard, so he could take a long holidays to Germany in the Australian winter, and Doris would stay here for a long visit over the German winter. In between, he cleaned the house, went on regular trips to Adelaide’s surrounding wine regions, worked late on his PhD (grapevines), held wine appreciation evenings, and cooked. Oh – the cooking… pizza, sourdough bread…(mmm) apple cake…(mm mmmm) cinnamonny scroll things called Scheckenudeln (mmmmmmmmmmmm!). He taught me everything I know about yeast cookery!

2) Sandra: the not so lovesick Italiano
Sandra’s long distance relationship with Luca in Italy whilst in Australia for a year was not so happy… many expressive and colourful conversations in Italian were overheard while she talked to him on the phone in the hallway. As well as being a good film and theatre buddy, Sandra taught me everything I know about making risotto, tortellini, minestrone, and the importance of using genuine Parmesan. Most impressive exploit was an after-hours lab-experiment with sparkling alcoholic tomato “wine”!

3) Nick, from The Mount
Nick was a regular, decent bloke from Mt Gambier, who liked footy, and was the only Australian resident I ever lived with in this house. He preferred meat and three veg, especially when cooked by his mum, and once his entire family came to visit from The Mount (Mum, Dad, and 2 brothers), which was an experience…

Sharehouse 1.2: Exit Italiano, enter the Quebecois

4) Karine was a proud, French-speaking Canadian, in Australia for a year of study. Her cooking exploits were less impressive than the other foreign housemates' (e.g. “special Canadian pie” which was basically Shepherd’s Pie but with added carrot), however, her Toblerone fondue was notable! Sadly the victim of a late night drunken pantsdown visit from Tim (see below).

Sharehouse 1.3: Exit Manfred, enter the Scot

5) Keith the Scot was always going to have a hard time living up to Manfred’s champion housemate standards. With Keith came a shift in household dynamic. Keith agreed to everything we said we wanted in the house, then promptly ignored it. Keith raised the level of household slobbishness, and brought into our lives such pleasures as: late night pissing outside my window after the pub had shut (unfortunately, I was in bed trying to sleep on the inside of the window); devouring a BBQ chicken late at night and throwing the bones around the kitchen for us to find in the morning; drunk friends who slept if off on the couch; whisky appreciation (the latter I’m actually grateful for). In the end, Keith revealed himself to be a nasty bully and I ended up having a big argument with him and moving out.

Sharehouse 1.4 Exit Karine, Enter Tim, Keith’s Uni Mate.

[I went overseas on a trip to Europe, and expressly asked that Nick and Keith find another female to move in when Karine went back to Quebec, and that I didn’t want Keith’s mate Tim to move in. Despite this, got back to find Tim had moved in… Keith’s explanation for the dark brown tide marks in the shower was that “we thought you were getting back tomorrow” and that I shouldn’t be so uptight about a bit of mess. However, my main reason for being “uptight” about my new living arrangements had more to do with this episode, a few months earlier…]

6) I woke up early one morning (5am), and got up to investigate a strange hiccupping noise. Karine’s door was wide open and slamming in the breeze… she wasn’t there but Tim (who didn’t live there) was, muttering “Where’s Keith? I can’t find Keith”. Keith was nowhere to be seen. Tim obviously wasn’t sober/straight. I went downstairs and found a very angry and upset Karine huddled on the couch. Tim (6 ft 4) had burst into her room when she was asleep. He’d knocked things over in the dark, and refused to leave her room then, to Karine’s horror, he took off his shoes and dropped his dacks, then flopped on her bean bag. She fled downstairs & feared for her safety all night, while I slept on with earplugs (had put them in earlier in night to block out drunk person noise).
Months later, Tim asked me what had happened that night - he'd had a convenient memory lapse. I refreshed his memory and he seemed appropriately horrified. Only actually lived with Tim for 2 weeks.

Sharehouse 2 – Grly house in Adelaide’s inner west
7) Moved in with a friend of a friend. She was a separatist-feminist, lesbian, vegan, catholic, far-leftist (SFLVCFL). She told me once that she reckoned she’d chosen a difficult life for herself. Had many interesting chats in the kitchen and back yard. Yeah – we were different on many levels, and things got a bit tense at times, but I learned a lot.

Sharehouse 3 – love nest(s)
8) Sooner after meeting than our grandparents would have approved, C-chan and I moved in together. No more house-mate “issues”. Hoorah! Then C-chan moved to Sidonee to get a job…

9) …for a while to be the charmingly attributed the name “Cupboard Boy” (see B-Sharp), while I stayed with my folks…

10) …then we moved into a damp, wobbly, expensive (by Adelaide standards) little town house backing onto a restaurant strip in Newtown (nb – never do this… higher than normal cockroach levels, bottle-collection noise, restaurant noise and smells, break-and-enters, and worst off all – regular visits from the putrid-smelling, gag-inducing grease collection truck). How did we last almost 3 years there? I attribute living there to my body developing a hypersensitivity to common allergens and food chemicals (seems to be subsiding a bit now, thank goodness).

11) Which brings us to our current place. Clean (except for our mess), well ventilated, and sans restaurant noise.