Let's Start at the Very Beginning

We call our house The Stumble Inn. Punny, right? We stumble in to the Stumble Inn? Our house also goes by the name The Midget Sex Store. WHAT? No, that is not a typo (we originally called ourselves The Bitches Next Door, but when someone misheard, the name changed right away). Anyway, these names probably give you some idea as to who we are. We are fun and crazy and love a good party. So we decided to throw one of these so called “good parties” when some of us moved in for the summer. And it was amazing. It was Kayla’s birthday party (Kayla lives in the Stumble Inn), and everyone had a great time playing beer pong and dancing on tables.

We thought when everyone left our house the party was over. But oh were we just so so wrong.

Three days after the party, the room mates and I (the girls living there for the summer) were minding our own business in our own rooms watching Netflix, studying, and plucking our eyebrows, when we heard a scream come from the upstairs bathroom. “AHHHHH COME QUICK!” It was Marlee. Marlee is deathly afraid of bugs, and almost peed her pants when she saw a centipede crawling around the bathroom floor. Kayla and I took care of the bug, and we thought the screams would end there.

But oh were we just so so wrong.

Just as the bug dilemma had passed, Ellen (who lives downstairs at the Stumble Inn) asked Marlee to bring her towels from our spare bedroom upstairs. Always willing to help, Marlee opened the door to the bedroom, grabbed the pile of towels, and revealed something hiding in the pile. Just then, chocolate cake rolled out of the towels and on to the floor. Chocolate cake? How did the birthday cake get in to our spare bedroom? We were trying to figure out how the chocolate cake made its way upstairs when we remembered that Kayla’s birthday cake was not chocolate. It was vanilla. We looked at each other, took a step backwards, and realized it was not cake we were looking at. It was human waste. Yes, someone used one of our bedrooms as a toilet. Marlee froze and screamed once more as she realized that the “chocolate cake” had hit her leg as it fell out of the pile of towels. We truly didn’t know what to do. What kind of person uses a bedroom as a toilet? What kind of people had been at our party? We weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. It was mostly laughs that would turn in to tears and then back to laughs. We knew we had to get the “chocolate cake” out of the house, so Marlee and Zoe took the lead (my hypochondriac self decided to stay out of the room while taking pictures and videos). They put the “chocolate cake” in a box, put some carpet cleaner on the stain (we ended up steam cleaning the carpet the next day), and took it out to the garbage can. And we thought that was that.

But oh were we just so so so wrong.

As we took the box of “chocolate cake” out to the garbage cans, we realized that it was garbage night, and the trash would be picked up in the morning. This is a good thing right? They would pick up the “chocolate cake” in a few short hours and it would be gone forever. That sounds easy, but as we walked outside to take the garbage cans to the curb, it was not only starting to thunderstorm, but our garbage cans were covered with maggots. Yes, covered from top to bottom in large, white, lumpy maggots. As it started to pour rain, we realized we had to take care of the maggots. So we stood in the rain, wiping maggots off of our garbage cans, still holding the box of “chocolate cake”. We removed the maggots from the cans, and Zoe ran the cans to the curb, screaming and crying and laughing and making a complete scene that was one of the funniest things Marlee must have ever seen, because right there in our backyard comes the grand finale of our story, and Marlee (who never actually went to the bathroom after seeing the bug) peed her pants. Right there. In the rain. And there was me, taking more pictures and laughing harder than I think I ever have.

And then it was finally over.

Thankfully, Marlee is a good sport, and found the whole story to be hilarious and an amazing memory maker.

So, that’s how it all started. This is how the Stumble Inn began its journey. This should give you an idea as to who we are and what college students are capable of. Just as a side note, every party we have hosted since the “chocolate cake” incident has been an outdoor party. Because we would rather pick up red cups from our backyard than “chocolate cake” from a bedroom any day.

Meet the Roomies: Zoe

My philosophy is that it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, but whom you’re with. I love people. I love meeting new people and hearing their stories and learning about where they come from and who they are. People I decide to keep close to me are people I trust and people that inspire me to be a better Cheyenne. So I would like to introduce you to the roomies of The Stumble Inn, so they can inspire you just like they have inspired me.

Meet Zoe. Zoe lived in the Stumble Inn during the summer, and although she won’t be a permanent roomie for the school year, she already has a drawer in my room for when she decides to spend the night.

Zoe is a junior in the honors college at the University of Michigan in the school of Organizational Studies with a minor in Philosophy. She is also on the executive board of her sorority, Alpha Delta Pi.

To be honest, Zoe is probably one of the most inspirational people I have ever met. She is genuinely interested in people; she loves trying new things, enjoys soaking up the sun, never puts down her ukulele, is fun loving, and knows how to turn your frown upside down. Zoe and I met only a few short months ago and we are already best friends. From long walks, to tanning on our roof, to ditching the bars to go to the ice cream shop, we have squeezed so much in to our short friendship.  We even had a combined birthday party in July!

The fact that Zoe and I clicked so quickly reminded me that people are the key to being content and satisfied with life. Best friends don't care what you're wearing, how frizzy your hair is or whether or not you put on mascara. They only care about the ways you can make them laugh and what flavor ice cream you have in the fridge for that night's movie. College life sometimes becomes so busy that we lose track of what's important. We lose track of the fact that although we are here for an education, we are also here to find our bridesmaids, our future spouses, and the people we want to be doing wheelies on our wheel chairs with when we are 90 years old. Parties and drinking and beer pong and tail gates are all really great, but how much fun are you really going to have if the people there aren't who you want to be spending your time with? 

Zoe is a person who will remind you that tomorrow is a new day, the sun will rise again, and no matter what you’ve been through, you have a friend waiting in the light at the end of the tunnel.

Extreme Makeover: Bathroom and Back Edition

Well before classes start in a few weeks, our shower here at the Stumble Inn and the rest of our bathroom will be receiving a makeover. Our landlord has decided it is time for a few renovations. Most importantly, we will be receiving a new shower. As of right now, our shower is not only stained, dirty, and probably holds mold and disease, but it is tiny. It is hard to move;  it is impossible to condition your hair without it being rinsed out immediately due to lack of space, and shaving your legs must take place outside of the shower. So here is a big shout out to Nick, our landlord, for deciding to give our house a facelift. Although our bathroom will be out of commission for a week or so, we are lucky that very few of us will be living in the house at that time. School starts in about three and a half weeks, so we are taking advantage of our short time of Freedom and squeezing in last minute trips, family dinners, and back surgeries. Wait, what? Yes, you read correctly. While I thought I would be soaking up the sun and spending time with my friends for the rest of my summer, I was proved wrong when I met with a doctor this past week.

Unfortunately, I have suffered from back problems since I was a baby. When I was ten, I started to experience excruciating pain in my back and down my legs, and when I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with two herniated disks in my lower back. The last ten years have consisted of lots of doctor appointments, different therapies, MRIs, CT scans, EEGs and mental disturbances. I have been able to cope with the pain, until I developed a third herniated disk this past March. It was not diagnosed until July, and has caused much discomfort. I am unable to walk or move without pain. I keep a smile on my face knowing that many people have it much worse, but sometimes this becomes difficult. Anyway, I met with a doctor this past week who explained to me that the most recent disk herniation is causing scoliosis and nerve damage. EEK! So he scheduled me for back surgery right away. Hopefully this will fix all of my problems, and I can finally be an average backed college student who can dance without pain and walk to class without needing a break halfway through.

With that being said, I will be out of the Stumble Inn until I have recovered from surgeons sticking needles and probes into my spine. I guess I will just have to wait to be able to use the new and improved shower. However, this won’t stop me from catching up with my roommates about the house and how things are going. And I am sure that I will have a story or two from my home in West Bloomfield. My sister is also receiving surgery next week. My sister is one year younger than me, and we are best friends. Our parents raised us as twins, but we couldn't be anymore different. I am sugar and she is spice. I am pale and she is tan. She is social and hot and sexy, and I am awkward and hide behind frizzy hair (I am social too but I think she is a little better at it). Despite our differences, we spend most of our time together and plan on being best friends forever. Anyway, she is having foot surgery, and will probably be walking in a boot for a little while. So that means my sister and I will be hobbling around town together during a post-operative period. I can’t even imagine the laughs, struggles, and stories that will accumulate. And I can’t wait to share.