the end of an era

My mom always says that, when something big changes. “Oh, it’s the end of an era,” followed by a sigh. Sometimes a mock sigh, but a sigh, nonetheless.

In any case, it is the end of an era — our Erik-as-roommate era. We had our last night at home with Erik last night. Monstro and I are very sad about the whole thing.

The night started after work. Kyle took us out for sushi, and we gorged. Anyone in Chico must run, not walk, to the newly reopened GenKai for Tamo and co’s outrageous sushi rolls. My favorite? It’s a tie between the Saturday Night Fever, which employs a blowtorch, and the Benson, which we ordered last time in tribute to my maiden name, and then learned it’s the best freakin’ roll ever created sans blowtorch. Instead of rice, they lay paper-thin red snapper over the top. Oh. My. Word.

After dinner we went back to the house and hung out on the porch for the hundredth-something time. I took a picture of Erik wrestling with the kitten. I honestly don’t know who will miss him more: Monstro, me, or Maxwell Hanes. They have a very avuncular (thanks, Julie) relationship. Max’ll be bummed to be stuck with Mom and Dad, I think.

“I know the picture I want of my roommates,” Erik said. “Monstro in his chair, smoking, with Motormouth behind and her arms around him.”

“Should I be holding my beer?” Monstro asked.

“Oh yeah,” Erik replied.

We got in position and Erik prepared to take the pic. “Monstro, look less gay, more Ethan Hawke.” Monstro puzzled over this until Erik clarified, “Ethan Hawke in ‘Gattaca,’ dude.” The picture was snapped. Erik went inside and I hijacked his camera and took a cleavage shot down my t-shirt. All the girls did this for Dusty at her graduation party, and it seemed like a fun tradition to continue.

Then we went inside, watched three episodes of “Family Guy” on DVD (Erik’s DVD), and at 11 I went to bed, after receiving a glasses-into-the-face hug from Erik.

Our consolation is, when we’re freezing our buns off in MA, Erik will be even colder in Aberdeen, Scotland. It’s a small consolation, but it’s something.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *