However, often the most diverse experiences only compound my fears of an actual inflexibility towards sharing small spaces. My brother will attest to this as we were forced to find separate living arrangements in Amsterdam after our roommies were toking up in our hostel room. You can imagine the response I received from the front desk when I demanded a new sleeping space because of the smell of smoke. They sort of confirmed a suspicion I have about not being laid back enough to be a true backpacker. But then, who wants to sleep in a smelly room? Ah well...
There's one area that highlights a particular need for aesthetic control: music.
I will admit it. I am a music snob. Not for me, are today's hits and yesterday's favorites. Top 40 makes it on my playlist only for irony's sake. (Except for Fergie who has fueled me through many a treadmill workout.) Unless the band is known only by a select few of indie scenesters, characterized by their unwillingness to dance or outwardly enjoy it, I don't want to listen to it. You can only imagine the struggles I am facing getting used to the newest members of my tiny dorm room: Boyz II Men.
My roommate keeps their 1994 prom anthem, "I'll Make Love to You" on near constant repeat. These melodious interludes are interrupted with Mary Chapin Carpenter's "He Thinks He'll Keep Her" and "I Want it That Way" by the aforementioned Backstreet Boys. All of these are repeated, usually three or four times a day. I was trying to imagine if the music could possibly get worse. Then Celine Dion started pumping. I am now convinced this can't get any worse.
The plus side is that I'm starting to re-evaluate my stance on terrible pop music. I really like my roommate and don't want to offend her, so I think it's not a bad idea to try to be more flexible towards her love of mid-90s treacly radio-manufactured pop. In reality it's the worst music of my culture (except Celine) sprouting back at me from thousands of miles (and nearly two decades) away. Irony, indeed.
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