Now, you may think I'm being sarcastic. I do not admit to such a thing. I will let you interpret the repetition of the L-word in your own way. But, do not expect me to blog about my roommates. I owe them their privacy, and apparently I also owe them a good sink scrub.
So, now that I've found myself in this unlikely debacle (since when do I give a shit who I blog about?), I've decided to put myself on their end of the stick. What would it be like to room with Natasha...
"My new roommate is a fucking freak. ALL she wears is black. I'm serious. That's it. Look in her closet. The entire thing is black. Black. On black. On black. You can't even tell there are clothes in there; it just looks like an empty closet. Her bed sheets are black. Her towels are black. Her fingernails are black. So, you'd think she's be all "dark and emo", ya know? But then, you look at all the movies she brought, and it's like, "Austin Powers," and "Ace Ventura" and "Powerpuff Girls Season One." What gothic wannabe watches "Coneheads?" And she walks around with her iPod and dances. Like, she was making coffee, and dancing while she did it. She spun over to the trash can and back. Then dropped her iPod. And started laughing. To herself. Like a psycho. And she brought, like fifteen of all these little tiny dolls with adjustable heads of like, Dracula and Frankenstein and shit. And she faces them towards her bed, like, what? If I woke up in the middle of the night and a 3-inch Wolfman was looking at me I'd piss my pants. Oh! And then, when she was unpacking, she, like, took out these bottles of pills. And so I'm thinking...okay, that's weird...and she goes, "I'm an insomniac. Don't be freaked out if I'm like sitting in the living room in the middle of the night; I do that. I won't turn on the TV or the lights or anything." What the fuck! I don't want to wake up at 2am to get a drink and there's my roommate sitting in there! In the dark! Staring into space! CREEPY SHIT, MAN! Oh god and then, we go grocery shopping, right? And we all decide to split the cost. And she's like, "Yeah yeah yeah," but then when we all get a cart, she's like, "I'm just gonna get my own food," and we're like, "I thought we were splitting the cost..." and she's like, "Well...I eat weird food." So I'm like..."Like, what?" I mean come ON! "Weird food?" What does that even mean! And she goes, "Uhhh...bags of cheese." and then runs off with her cart. At first I thought she was just making that up so she could be cheap then mooch off of our shit, but then she comes back and her cart has SIX bags of shredded cheese in it, and that's it. There wasn't even variety; it was all mozzarella. ALL OF IT. Then she randomly gets a thing of orange Tic-Tacs. Okay, and another thing, she's always on the balcony. She's never inside. Yesterday I went out there, and she is LYING DOWN on our balcony with a pillow. It's like, wouldn't that be more comfortable in bed? Where your pillow is supposed to go? I mean she's lying on SOLID CONCRETE. And like, people will pass by on the sidewalk and look up at her and she'll be like, "HEY!" and scare the shit out of them, but then whenever the 4 guys who live next door to us come up and say hi to her, she looks at them, grabs her pillow, and walks inside. She doesn't say one word to them. Like, what? RUDE, THAT'S WHAT. And! She goes on and on about how retarded frat boys are and how she hates them and how all guys are horny bastards then at night she's like, "Bye! Going to a frat party!" Hypocrite! She never cleans her dishes, she throws her clothes all over her floor, and yesterday she was supposed to clean the bathroom and all I saw her do was grab a 4-pack of toilet paper and throw it through the door. She didn't open it, she didn't put a roll on the holder-thingy, she just chucks the whole thing in there. It landed in the bathtub. And no, she didn't go pick it up. She just laughed to herself IN THAT CREEPY FUCKIN WAY SHE DID BEFORE and walks off. Like, thanks for helping out, FREAK! I'm telling you, she's a fuckin' weirdo."
Of course, that's just my humble opinion. I'm lucky enough to have roommates who keep all comments about one another to themselves. Because I'm sure there are many.
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