Everyone likes to gossip. If you say you don't, you're lying. Come on: Nothing is more exciting than news about other people. It's like intellectual people-watching. We let loose and judge people, laughing and sneering at our friends and, sometimes, family.
And it's one thing my female housemates do very well. What's more, they each have certain idiosyncrasies that become more apparent when engaging in this sinful pastime. One of my female housemates gets louder and louder with ironic anger as she voices juicy jeers. Another starts to quiver with hidden excitement and curls her lips into cute, curved smiles. And yet another keeps her cool and just raises her eyebrows at every turning point in the succulent piece of defamation.
It's an interesting contrast to monotone guy-gossip, which is mostly packed with self-appreciative chuckling and bragging. There's the big difference. My guy friends gossip about themselves. My girl friends gossip about other people.
The girls' uncontrollable alter-egos can create a symphony of noise in my kitchen and living room. There, the Yeller, Smiley and Miss Smooth, respectively named, spit out people news, the stuff of tabloids and melodramatic soap operas. The Yeller raises her arms in subdued faux-anger as Miss Smooth furrows her brow in cute faux-opposition. Smiley giggles in her sundress.
When I join in the conversation, I have to preface it with false hesitance. I stutter. I make it sound as though this is hard to say. "I ... eh ... well ... I know I shouldn't say this, but it's just you guys..."
There's no real hesitation. I love gossiping, but it's looked down upon, and I want to be in the right.
Sometimes the Yeller will come into my room late at night, lie next to me in bed and taunt me with some new piece of meaty secrecy. And although it's usually past 2 a.m., she won't turn down her volume.
Miss Smooth will usually give a personal anecdote that relates to the gossip, never mentioning the names of our victims. She directs the conversation and can find solace in the fact that she never utters the name of our sacrificial lamb.
Smiley will spontaneously start in with her boy troubles and how the awkward tension of an unlabeled relationship can sometimes destroy the whole thing. She seems frustrated, and she lets us in on some details most guys would probably prefer remain secret. But it's just the girls and me.
Last week Miss Smooth referred to me as "just another one of the girls." I didn't mind. I took it as a compliment. We're all comfortable with each other. That's all it meant. Right?
I know gossip is bad. I hate to hear other people doing it, but love taking part in it. Hypocritical you say? Perhaps.
I will never write about something too private. It discourages me a bit that, as I become further entrenched in the lives of my eight female housemates, all conversations might become secretive. As friends begin to learn more about the new house dynamic, they begin to question relationships and strain that ideal synergy that keeps the house runing smoothly.
One of my housemates told me she's starting to watch what she says, since it's all fair game for my column. That upset me. I have some tact, and I know that some things should remain between the gossiper and the gossipee.
But in the meantime, I'll enjoy this bonding. We laugh, we cry, we shout and scream. It's a fun, seemingly harmless exercise. I just don't want it to sneak up on us and create more problems than it solves.
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Griffin Pepper is a senior majoring in political science. He can be reached at Griffin.Pepper@tufts.edu.
