Like it’s going out of style…

I just found out something really not awesome.  Apparently, when you’re cooking in the kitchen (read: when my roommate boils cabbage and fries bologna like it’s going out of style), the smell reaches my bathroom first.  This means that my bathroom has acquired a permanant cabbbage & bologna smell.

How did I find this out?

I got in the shower and wondered if my apartment complex had started recycling sewage water.

It’s pretty nasty.

This is Getting Ridiculous

I wake up this morning to the following note:

Jos,

Please do something about the recycling in the dining room. It stresses me out! Plus, I want to have a friend over and it is embarrassing.  Sorry for bother.

Now, overlooking the fact that my name is misspelled, we have had this conversation multiple times.  She is fully capable of taking out the recycling if it bothers her that much, I even drew her a map to where the drop off place is.  And now, in a sick twist of fate, she’s stopped talking to me.

Why, oh why, do I always get the roommates who are completely nuts?

P.S. I have to spend this afternoon writing her a list of things she needs to take care of over break, things that I know she will forget.  Please see below.

Rent is due on Jan 1st.  The amount is $_______, and it needs to be sent to this address:______________.  I’ve left you a stamped envelope and a diagram of how the check needs to be written.  You can leave it in the bottom of the brass mailbox downstairs and it will get picked up.  Please try to leave it there around the 27th so it will get there on time.

Internet/Phone and Electric bills are sent to me via email.  I pay them online and email you the amount that you owe me.  Please have it when I get back next month.

This is the holiday season, which means it’s super important to lock the doors.  Several times this semester I’ve come home after midnight and you’ve been asleep  and the doors have not just been unlocked but wide open.  Please remember to close and lock them every night.

Because we live in the South, it isn’t that cold here over Christmas break.  This means we still get bugs (i.e. the giant spider Nick had to kill last week).  Putting all food away and taking out the trash will help keep this from happening.

I will be home on the 3rd or 4th, so I will see you then, I hope you have a great break!

She is going to be completely insulted at this note, so I’m choosing to email it to her and leave the additional materials on the table.  Yeah, I don’t feel like dealing with one more thing this semester.  I just want a freaking break from being her babysitter/counselor/punching bag.

Destination Unknown

Where can I go to get away from my life? Any suggestions/couches up for grabs/free plane tickets? Because I am in desperate need of a break!!

Le Chou

Le chou is causing some major problems for me right now.  To begin with, it’s one of those foods I can’t stand (unless prepared with corned beef by my Irish grandmother).  Then there’s the matter of how my house now reeks of retirement home.  Awesome!

Sorry, I’m extra annoyed right now because I have to finish these papers and I still don’t feel well.

Alright, back to work. Grumble.

My Most Insincere Gratitude

I finally went to urgent care on campus and was informed of the following:

1. Extreme pain that keeps me bedridden for 36 hours is all in my head

2. Extreme pain that keeps me bedridden for 36 hours is normal

3. Extreme pain that keeps me bedridden for 36 hours should be combated with 2 Advil and some herbal tea

…And then the nurse told me it wasn’t urgent and sent me home without even letting me see a doctor.

Personally, I think curling into the fetal position for a day and a half isn’t normal and can’t be fixed with tea.  But then, what do I know? Its only my body we’re talking about.

I’m pretty annoyed.

90 Minutes In…

7:15am: I wake up to let the cat out of my bedroom and go to the bathroom.

7:20am: I am unable to go back to sleep as I am mentally working on my paper that’s due tomorrow

7:30am: My alarm goes off so I will remember to get up and actually write down what’s going on in my head.

…Which of course means I get online and proceed to goof off for some time….

?:??am: I wander into the kitchen to boil water for my tea and oatmeal. Looking at the clock on the toaster over, I see that it claims the time to be 9:33am.  Panic ensues, I haven’t typed any of those brilliant ideas into a tangible virtual document, I haven’t eaten breakfast or showered and I’m going to have to venture into the cold world with wet hair.  I snag the teapot off the burner before it finishes boiling, pour water into my respective instant foods and run to my room.

…Which is where I notice the clock on my wall. 8:01am.

Grumpily, I turn to my roommate.

Me: (trying unsuccessfully not to sound completely bitchy) Why is the clock in the kitchen set 90 minutes fast?

Diana: So I’m not late.

Apparently this is a perfectly normal answer because she looks completely nonplussed.  Which, I have to point out, is ironic. Because she is late all the time.  I’m guessing it doesn’t matter what the clocks say, she’ll still think she can get from our house to her classroom to teach (please don’t comment on the idea of her teaching–I’m aware) in 5 minutes or less.  Never mind that it has taken her 15-20 minutes every day since September.  Never mind that it seems common knowledge that one cannot walk 1.5 miles with a backpack in 5 minutes.  And thus, the inability of geography to bend to her desires upsets her.  Every single day I’ve lived with her we’ve had the same conversation:

Diana: It takes me so long to get to campus.

Me: We only live 1.5 miles from Joe Brown, it takes like 12 minutes to walk there with traffic.

Diana: That’s so long! And when I take the bus I have to take 2 of them!

Me: But the one that stops on our street drops you at the corner where Joe Brown is.

Diana: It’s too far.

Me: Right.

Never mind reality, let’s just be ridiculous.

Why I Want to Move

Diana: (flinging my bedroom door open) We should swim today! I must exercise or I cannot write.

Me: (from the floor where I’m furiously typing a paper) I’m going running, you can come if you want.  I don’t feel like swimming though.

Diana: (looking insulted) Oh. Well. Let me know.

Me: Right. Sorry, I’m just really busy here. I’m trying to get this theory paper done.

Diana: I’m on fifth page. How are you?

Me: Still compiling my notes.

Diana: I’m further than you.

Me: Yes, I see that.

(several minutes pass before I walk to the kitchen to make tea)

Diana: (stamping on the floor with her feet) I have too much to do! There is just too much! How am I supposed to get it all done! It is impossible! Just impossible!

Me: (walking to the kitchen, unconcerned) You’ll get it done.

Diana: (grabbing the dolphin poster off her wall and throwing it across the room) No! Too much! Just too much! Just imagine, so much!

Me: (shielding my mug from debris, closing my bedroom door, and trying not to laugh) You’ll be fine.

Anyone have a spare couch? Apparently I’m living in an insane asylum.

The Million Dollar Question

Girl on TV: Why I did it? How the hell I’m supposed to know why I did it? Not like I sit here and analyze myself like some kinna freak.

Nick: How does she not?! I wish I was that lucky.

It’s the million dollar question, my dear.  I wish I could be that lucky for a day, too.

Tights Are Not Pants

Kelsey: I didn’t realize.
Blair: That tights are not pants?!?! Honestly!

Tights aren’t pants. Even Gossip Girl agrees.

Peachy Votes

I voted!  Some of you would approve of who I voted for.  Some of you would stop talking to me for who I voted for.  None of you will ever know.  That’s right, I’ve adopted an a-political stance.  I’m not discussing political particulars with anyone.  I am, however, still open to discussing political theory and/or history.  That means that I don’t mind conversing on Marxism or the Mayflower, but the moment we veer into socialized health care or Sarah Palin’s kids I’m out.  Keep on talking, that’s fine with me.  Politics just aren’t worth losing friends over.

To that end, allow me to make a request.  Please, if you hate America enough to bitch about it daily in my viscinity, allow me to remind you that no one is making you stay here.  I’m sure there are other countries out there in which you could reside.  I know China is always looking for English teachers.  And hey, Cuba has a blanket health care policy.  So does Canada for that matter.  Oh, and if you’re not actually from this country, you seriously have no room to complain.  If you really hate the U.S., you probably shouldn’t be waiting on pins and needles to get that Green Card so you don’t have to go back to [insert name of war-torn nation here] where you stand a fair chance of getting killed.  Yes, we, like every other nation in the history of the world, have problems.  Yes, we might not be able to fix them immediately.  Yes, you might not love it here.  If you don’t like it, fix it or find somewhere you like better.  And either way, pray for change in the future.

…And I’m off my soapbox for the day.

The Middle

A general message to everyone currently dragging me into their shit:

STOP.

I can’t sleep or keep food down as it is.  And this is getting old.

Oh, and by the way, thanks for this handy turn-around.  It’s awesome that you expect me to fix your lives, but when mine falls apart I get nothing.

Super.

If you’re not going to help, leave me the fuck alone.

Well That’s Just Disheartening

I just found out that one of my favorite authors is being all politically vocal.  This is a brief message to all those people with sway out there (authors, teachers, celebrities, etc.):  Stop telling us how to think and what to believe.  I’m sure every one of you has a soapbox of some sort, but try to keep it to yourself.

Cough. Bono. Cough.

Helluva

I woke up this morning determined that I was going to have a good day no matter what.  There have been a whole lot of “no matter whats” today.  This is turning out to be one hell of a day and I haven’t even made it to dinner yet.  Between class, homework, insane landlords, suicide attempts (not mine), and the lock situation…

Oh and also, I fould out that “helluva” is now in the dictionary.  Really?  Is nothing sacred?

I’d Like to Thank Vince…

In his defence, they really are...

There is nothing snarky enough for this one...

…and this is why you should at least look at your kid’s homework before you throw them on the bus.

Locked In

It may have been a quote-ish kind of morning, but its quickly turning into an annoying-ish day and now I have to change every lock in my new place.

Sometimes people just piss me off.