The Roommate Chronicles

Hello again,

I know it's been awhile since I posted dear readers/absolutely no readers (I know, I won't feign blog popularity, just dream of it). But I just got off the phone with my favorite person ever and totes bff and must post this so she can read it (hi Emily). Thus begins the roommates chronicles. I apologize in advance for my awful capitalization and maybe poor grammar.

So I found my roommate off craigslist (smart move, self...) and moved in. Building I wanted, big room, awesome view, pretty normal dude. Well...replace "normal" with "weirdo" and we have a more accurate description. In the following paragraphs we will tell two stories and then create a list. Let's begin, shall we?

Part One: Ummmm...can I, like, get the remote?

Let's begin somewhat at the beginning of my placement in this apartment. Its mid to late august...maybe september? the details are vague to me. I am attempting to bond with said roommate. We are watching tv in the living room, lounging.

*side note* we are watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Because this is what he likes to watch. Who watches that? Loyally? I can see maybe a random episode on tv and watching for 90's nostalgia...but who am I to talk, I am a faithful fan of My So Called Life.

Okay back to the topic at hand. Roommate grows tired of the television, proceeds to turn it off, walk in to his room and closed the door. I am still on the couch. As a tv enthusiast...I'm definitely not done watching tv yet. But like...who does that? At least give me the remote if you don't want to watch tv anymore. Why turn it off? Whatever. Isolated incident.

False. Not so isolated. This happened again that weekend, on a lovely saturday morning. We were watching West Wing, something we have in common but he definitely did the same thing. I just don't get it. I will chalk this up to a lack of social skills. I think he may be an only child, and rich ( I think he's rich because when I brought in my new 32" tv and was all excited my parents gave it to me cause they got a 52" and he said "oh that sucks". In what world does that SUCK??) It just weird.

Part Two: Dear _____, here's a list of annoying things you do

1. Showers during my morning shower time, thus making me late for work (yeah..shared bathroom)

2. leaves all the kitchen cabinet doors open when you open them

3. make stinky foods

4. do nothing but play video games

5. remarkable lack of friends from what I can tell (sad)

6. eat my food and then thinks its okay to replace it with ALMOST the same food (this would be okay if a. you asked and b. you replaced it with the same food. For instance, when you eat my butter popcorn, replace it with butter popcorn. Kettle corn is not the same, what kettle corn is...is disgusting.)

7. Asks me whats wrong when i'm in a bad mood. You would think this would be nice, but it just annoys me. If want to talk to you...I will. But I don't, and I sure don't know you well enough to talk to you about my bad mood. Thank goodness for doors.

8. I can't figure out if you're gay or not.

9. the tendency to leave fruit in the fruit bowl too long and then the following presence of fruit flies.

10. the inability to do dishes. This includes ruining my hand painted birthday wine glass.

11. Leaving the kitchen and living room a mess, then on weekends picking them up, putting all the dishes in the sink and then asking me to clean the bathroom and the dishes. Do I fucking look like cinderella? no, theres not bluebirds in my window and squirrels helping me get dressed. Do your own dishes and how about you clean the bathroom while I tidy the living room?

12. WEAR SOME FUCKING PANTS!!!!!! look bro, I hate pants too, but since I have a male roommate I don't know very well, I wear them. I'm so tired of looking at you in your weird underwear. They are like boxers...but small. But not so small they are boxer briefs. My summary: european boxers. you do not look good in them, you are not attractive. put on some damn pants.

13. your body has somehow timed its bathroom needs with mine. meaning that every time i have to pee so bad I could go in my pants, you go into the into the bathroom leaving me pondering my other options like the kitchen sink or patio. if you were a girl, you would have hopped on my cycle, i swear.

Thats all for now.

Part Three: The most inappropriate shit ever done

This is the last story and I think it really sums up the "why you should never have a random roommate or any roommate for that matter". It's a lovely friday evening, my friend Danny and I return from a lovely 3 mile run through Del Ray. we go upstairs to get some water. Danny knows he's weird. I am unlocking my door and Danny starts knocking on it.

me: why are you knocking? thats so unnecessary

danny: welll you never know.

We walk in and the lights are off, the tv is off, I assume no ones home, I walk to the left and what do I see? roommate. on the couch. in the dark. He's sitting with his knees to his chest. I do not make eye contact...I'm too busy trying to inconspicuously see if this dude is wearing underpants. Danny makes eye contact. We get water and immediately flee to my bedroom. I know now, that you dear reader, are curious....pants or no pants?

we have decided...NO PANTS

I'm sorry for the profanity in this post but WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!

I will leave what he was doing naked on the living room couch in the dark up to your imagination. I hope your imagination isn't stupid.

WHO DOES THAT???? It's not like I was supposed to be out of town. I live here. I could come home any time. THATS WHY YOU HAVE A ROOM. And I know you have touch-yourself-lotion in there because my friend used it once for a spot of dry skin.

I have since booby trapped my room to make sure he's not watching me sleep.

.fin.

It is past my bedtime, and I feel some acid reflux coming on (gross), and like you see above, I gotta booby trap my room for the night. I will leave you with two questions. the questions I shudder at because I don't want to know the answers:

1. what would have happened if danny DIDN'T knock on the door before we walked in?

2. what would have happened if danny wasn't there?

OMG...you did not.

Set scene...crowded bar on a Friday night (my personal favorite bar, might I add), friends all around, celebrating a friends new job. Music is playing, drinks are flowing, and the Creeper McCreeperson's of the world are out and about.

So there I am, minding my own business and debating with my friends whether or not to wear pants on Halloween. This is a really serious debate. I really dislike wearing pants, and kind of really want to be Wonder Woman for Halloween 2010. But this is off topic.

Two guys enter the bar. They observe us and head to the other side of bar. Excellent choice men, I don't want to talk to you. Well played. But then!!! Right in the middle of the "but will the wrist cuffs make my thighs look fat?" part of the Pants Debate...they're back. With awful breath. I mean it was rank. I had a coffee flavored shot and can guarantee you my breath didn't even smell that bad. Get a mint, bro. Or just a toothbrush. He butts in and asks a question. I answer, and then turn back to the conversation at hand.

They lurk. Whatever.

Now if there's one thing I love, its a booty bumpin jam. Current obsession, I will admit, is Usher's "OMG". Let me assure you it came on. So I'm bouncing a little on my barstool. I am sure you can picture it, everyone has seen a girl in a bar doing that. But I don't want to dance! If I did, I would.

Stinky-breath-lurk-boy comes at me from behind and has the nerve to pick me up off my seat and pull me on to the dance floor.

?!?seriously?!?

Who does that??? And why me??

but this is only the beginning. I like to think I'm pretty easy going, so whatever dude, I'll dance with you. My dancing resembles the infamous Elaine dance from Seinfeld. Nothing great. Its actually probably really entertaining to other people, I fear the day it appears on youtube. While dancing, he decides its a good idea to put his hand on my crotch and pull me closer to him. Dude, thats fucking gross. Don't ever do that. To anyone. As you can only imagine, my slightly inebriated self is not fucking happy. I take his hand, and remove it from my nether regions. Guess where he decides the new location for it should be? My ass. This kid with bad breath, bad hair, and clearly no social etiquette has entirely ruined my enjoyment of OMG. I leave the dance floor. Nuh uh, not cool.

Why, oh why, me?

I will end this with a quote from the super fabulous tooth missing rockstar Ke$ha. Yep, the dollar bill symbol in there is *really* necessary.

Get up and go, bro.

no-xoxo,

J.

Okay...don't get excited yet

This is just the beginning of what is going to be the greatest thing you've ever read. Also known as the ridiculous series of events that are gradually creating the debacle of my life.

for example:

A few days ago I was driving into work. Quite peacefully, because I was pretty much asleep while I did it. My ipod is playing some Ben Kweller, nothing too heavy. Good morning music! I should preface this with the fact that I have a tendency to listen to music..pretty loud. As I drive into the parking garage, windows down to swipe my key fob, my ipod decides to change songs. Since it is on shuffle, I'll give you three guesses to what came next:

1.

2.

3.

Wrong. You're wrong. Insanely wrong. My ipod began blasting "Alkoholic" by Xhibit. Seriously? GEN? What do I do first? Change it? See who can hear it? I try to do both at the same time. Disaster, I almost crash into a pillar. Song doesn't change. All I see is Senior Attorneys and Partners. Which is bullshit, because usually I only drive in next to people who don't know their left from their right. Its like Xhibit planned this...

Gotta love an ipod. And that song actually. I really ended up just rolling up the windows and rapping it out anyway...cause when I'm "too drunk to walk I rock the party on crutches".

What were your three guesses? Maybe I should just make this whole thing a guessing game...just kidding! That's entirely too complicated. I just want to make YOU (oh yeah...you) laugh while you're fucking bored out of your mind at work. While I'm fucking bored out of my mind at work. Wish me luck.

Oh, I also moved funky on my seat in the lunchroom today. Ensue large farting noise, followed by people looking at me. At this point...does blaming the chair help? Whatever, fart proud.

xoxo,

hopefully your favorite new blogger.