NOOOOOO

MY ROOMMATE IS DRUNK. FOR ONCE. AND NOOOOOWWW HE TELLING ME ABOUT THE GIRL HE DID NOT, YES NO SURPRISE, DID NOT HOOK UP WITH. NO

HES TELLING ME

HYDRATION ON.

oh yes, now he's using the lords name in vain

because that makes him SOOOOO cool.

So lame.

" I'M NOT DRUNK"

OH GOD, I was so proud, he was finally drunk. Now he's getting lame, again, I knew it was just a matter of time.

He wants to brush his teeth,

LORDS NAME IN VAIN AGAIn

OH the girl he wanted to hook up with was in BAND, and she REJECTED HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH'

NOW i don't even care. Now he's just rambling. AGAIN. HYDRATION ON!!!

YOU DONT NEED TO BE SO LAME!!!!!

UPDATE: MORE WATER!!! He's afraid he's dehyrated!?! HAHHAH

UPDATE UPDATE: He just said hydration is better than BBQ. What does he know about BBQ? He's a New Yorker, AND a ginger!

Roaches

So the "apartment" I'm living in through my college, is disgusting.

When I signed up to live here, I was told that this section of housing was "Newly Renovated!" How naive I was! What would have been more accurate is that SOME of the apartments have been renovated . . . roughly a third.

Now because my College is putting all of its energy in renovating some of the dorms, they don't even bother to keep up the older ones, ERGO mine is falling apart.

A five-star shit hole.

The shower leaks water all over the floor, and apparently has been doing this for decades because not only was mold growing under the tiles, but it had come through the wall and covered the floor, chair and wall.

The pipes leak (onto the fuse box), The hot water heater barly works, the oven doesn't, and there are no overhead lights. The only light switch in the bedrooms turns off the power in the ENTIRE room, which you know, is real convent, if you like resetting your clock every day.

It also doesn't help that I'm living with college guys, who are not the cleanest people in the world, especially when living in a place that has been inhabited by college guys for the past 30 years.

It's Disgusting.

And always with disgusting living places, there are cockroaches.

Now I hate roaches as much as, well everyone —but that doesn't mean I freak out every time I see one.

So I come home the other day and my roommate, as usual, is at his desk doing his homework.

He turns around, looks at me awkwardly and says "sorry—

I look down

Apparently he had no choice but to use my really nice shoes because he "has kind of a phobia of roaches"

Who DOESN'T have "kind of" a phobia of roaches?

No one likes them! The word "Icky" was actually coined when Queen Victoria saw a roach in her carriage!

(I made that last bit up)

He definitely did not "have" to use my shoes. I look over to his side of the room and he has three, yes THREE pairs of shoes just sitting by his desk! One pair were his old running shoes that he also wears sailing. He should have used those to kill the roach, and then throw them out, because those smelly grimy things need to go. And he also had another pair that were rubber flip-flops which, if you were not aware, are the most perfect roach squishing shoes of all time!

Now usually I don't care if my shoes are used for killing insects, and I guess I really don't care that much now either. But you can clean the squished bug and blood of my nice shoes and put them back where you found them, or in the very least, don't leave the dead cockroach on the floor.

He could have at least extended me these courtesies, especially considering he really had no excuse to use my shoes when he had plenty of perfect roach-killing-objects at his disposal.

Annoying ginger roommate, "Y U NO BE NORMAL!?!"

Gingers≠Blondes

Let me clarify this once and for all:

Gingers are NOT Blondes.

I'm bringing this up because my ginger roommate insists that he's blond. He came into the room today, as I lay hungover/somewhat still drunk in my bed, and starts talking about what bad sunburn he got from sailing. Granted it was bad. He's head was burnt in an downwards triangle that pointed towards his chin, and his ghost pale legs had odd red stripes on them. I don't know how he got such odd marks, but I digress.

I'd feel sorry for the guy if he didn't follow up the tale with "I guess you know what I mean, us guys with blonde hair and blue eyes always get burned"

. . .

Did he just imply that I look like him? A ginger?

Not acceptable.

My annoyance would have been forgotten if he didn't wander into my study corner later, sit down and say "can I ask you a question?"

I thought"This is wierd"

"Wow this is awkward to ask."

"Where is he going with this? Granted he's usually awkward, he just doesn't admit it"

"I might be interning in New York this summer, and I was thinking maybe if you're ok with it, since I'm not 21 yet . .

I catch on, and am eased that its not some more awkward question. I started thinking, hmm, maybe giving him my license would be good for him, it might get him out more. I need to get a new one anyway, mine still has "UNDER 21" written on it several times. But then he had to ruin it.

" You know, since we look so similar: blonde hair, blue eyes"

"WHAT?!?"

I bit my tongue. Hard. Not only did he again claim that we both had blonde hair, he implied that I looked like him, a ginger!! We do NOT resemble each other in the least. But there he was, for the second time that day, calling me, in essence, a ginger look-a-like.

And for the record I do not have blue eyes, they're pale green (though they were a really cool yellow, yes, yellow color in high school, but then they changed back. . .)

Now not all red-heads are gingers. To be a ginger you must posses the glowing red hair, pale clammy skin, overabundance of freckles, and generally creepiness that reflects the fact that you don't have a soul.

My school's debating society has debated on several occasions whether or not gingers should have the same civil rights as normal people.

The resolution was defeated.

There is no way I'm giving him my license now. Especially when he asks like that. He would just let it go to waste anyway. Its not like he even goes to parties now. He often puts homework ahead of going out on the weekend, I can't imagine how awkward he would be in a New York club.

Actually I can

I also don't want the kid wondering around the Big Apple with my identity. And signature.

He looses stuff constantly.

So a hint to all gingers. If you are asking a really big favor from a non-ginger. Do not compare yourselves to the person in question.

You can't complement someone by saying they don't have a soul.

Post Script: The word "blonde" for those of you not brushed up on you're blonde vocabulary, is one of the few words in the english language that still has a gender. e.g. He is blond and January Jones is also blonde.

Ahh, January Jones . . .

Scratch and Sniff.

My roommate has questionable hygiene.

I assume he showers every day, but that is an assumption, which means I might be giving him too much credit. I occasionally see him take showers in the afternoon, and sometimes when I'm not here I know he has taken a shower earlier because I'll find large puddles of water around our apartment. Seriously puddles, he just doesn't drip water, he leaves puddles behind like a fucking sea creature. I don't know how he can carry that much water with him out of the shower, but he does. Of course I don't know how much water retention gingers have in comparisons with real human beings.

I just know he doesn't takes showers in the morning. This is nice because the one time he did take one in the morning during fall finals he bitched and complained that there wasn't any hot water.

Really? You mean there wasn't any more hot water for the third shower in a row? Wow, thats surprising considering the school just bought our water heater 35 years ago!

But the thing that REALLY grosses me out the most, is his habit of sniffing his clothes. Anytime he picks up clothes to change into, he sniffs them. And not just a slight silent sniff. A loud I-can-hear-you-in-the-next-room kind of sniff.

This worst part is, he has YET to reject any of his clothes after sniffing them. Not that dirty running sock, or that red sweater he wore everyday for a week, not even that shirt that was drenched in sweat the other week and has beeb lying in the floor since.

Each time a hear a loud sniff in my apartment, I cringe at the though of what he might be putting back on. . . .eguh.

Party for new members

For out debating society we have a semester in which newly added member need to fill a number of requirements to become a regular member of the society.

Don't worry, it isn't hazing. But still it can be rough. You have a number of requirements to fill, including the presentation which every new member must give and pass to become a regular member at the end of the semester.

Anyway, today was our new member party. Me being on the Ways and Means Committee, had to help organize this festive event today. Which was kind of exciting for me because it is the first time I bought a Keg by myself.

It feels like a right of passage.

Though I better be reimbursed. Just saying. Its bad enough I had to put the deposit on the tap under my name, on my credit card (which my parents pay for). But, anyway, I'm writing this drunk so it might not make that much sense. Thought as I walked back I realized that I didn't have my key.

Damnit.

I never forget my key this late.

So I called my roommate. No answer. Then I call him about 3 more times. Anytime he a phone rings whiles he's trying to sleep he gets all pissy, thought usually its his phone, and then after he gets mad at me, he feels guilty and mumbles sorry before going back to sleep.

But he ignored my calls tonight.

Douche.

So I ended up walking around our building and banging on our window with my Gatorade bottle (because I'm a responsible drunk, ELECTROLYTES!!!) screaming his name, and finally, he did respond, and I got in.

Thats what you get for ignoring me.

Open the damn door. I'd do it for you!

Something smells fishy, ok maybe it just smells like a fart

My roommate farts a lot.

Usually he only does it when he's alone in the room. I know this because I always brace myself before I enter the room like I'm defusing a bomb that might go off at any minute.

But tonight, maybe its because he's having a laid back conversation with me and the suitemate (albeit awkwardly) he was apparently so excited he didn't feel like containing himself.

I'm sitting here trying to keep composure, while trying to forget about the smell. Granted, writing a blog post about it doesn't keep my mind off the smell, but venting about it makes me feel better.

Ha, venting.

I wish.

UPDATE: Roommate leaves to go get laundry. Suit-mate moves over to take his seat. "EUGH! Why is this so warm?!?" I probably should have warned him.

Hydration on

So I just spent the first weekend night of the semester without going out. My roommate on the other hand spent is first weekend night of the semester out of the apartment. AND past his early bed time!!!

The Universe is trippin'

I realized today —with an upcoming hell week staring me back in the face — that maybe going out Tuesday, Thursday and Friday wasn't the best idea. Of course it's not that I regret going out, or that I wouldn't do it again if I had a chance, but again, not the best idea.

I'll be fine with my work, as I always am, so that's not a problem. I just had to spend most of my night catching up with readings etc.

My roommate on the other hand —after doing extra Accounting exercises— decided to go out because, being bid night, he knew someone who new someone who could get him into a party.

Apparently not a very hard feat on bid night.

He came back in a smiley fashion to brag about his exploits.

"I ended up going to FIVE frat parties tonight!"

"Impressive" I reply as I try to continue enjoying my night cheese

Nothing says going hard like switching between 5 different parties in a two hour span.

It takes a great deal of timing to be able to wait in line, get a beer, drink it, and then go to the next party.

I'm surprised he could stand.

(If you haven't taken notice yet *hint read the above* I love sarcastic humor)

My semi-buzzed but "stumbling" roommate then proceeded to use some outdate 90's catch phrases, and told me that it was time "to get his hydration on"

I kid you not.

He fills up his glass, drinks it, then goes into our room, closes the door for a few minutes, and then comes back out to do the process again. And again. . . and again.

. . . and again.

I'm glad he knows to drink water after "drinking" but a light buzz does not necessitate 5 full glasses of water before going to bed. It was kind of endearing though. Like watching the bird in a cuckoo clock come out its little door to chirp at every hour. . . except over and over again in rapid secession.

Hydration off.

Do SOMETHING interesting

It's Friday night. I just got back from being out. My roommate is asleep.

This wouldn't be annoying if this happened occasionally, but my roommate is ALWAYS asleep before I get home. Now, I know he doesn't have much to do, or many people to do it with. He's always desperate to do anything with anyone. I can understand this, I did this a lot my freshman year, but that does not mean that you have to go to bed early.

Watch TV, find a movie on netflix, play a videogame, I don't care. Do SOMETHING other than going to bed.

He goes to bed at the same time he does during the week. Find something more interesting to do! It's depressing. A week of school is more interesting for him than a weekend.

I remember one of the first weekends back. I helped him get into a frat party. We got booze. I leave him for as second to go meet two chicks. One for me and one for him (I choose the cuter one of course) I turn back around.

He's gone.

That was probably the most exciting weekend the poor awkward kid has had this year.

I'm glad I always have something to do and someone to do it with on Fridays, and if I had enough of that, at least I can watch Netflix. This "go to bed at 11" thing is really depressing.

CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR!

So I'm sitting here, thinking about me and the other 500 million people who blog and how special and unique we are, and then I start hearing my roommate peeing.

SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!

I'm not some person who freaks out over regular bodily functions (though the word "bodily" is kind of icky) but I do feel like plugging my ears and humming really loudly to drown out the sound. Why doesn't he take a half millisecond to close the door? If you're going to slightly close the door, why not do it all the way?

Talk about half-assing it.