Thursday, September 17, 2009

Till Laundry Do Us Part

I’ve decided that if I ever want to get married, there are many things I am going to have to hide about myself. I do not possess any of the typical traits of a “good wife,” nor do I possess any traits of personal hygiene. (I mean, I bathe, people, come on. I brush my teeth and flush the toilet and all that jazz. Just let me finish before you jump to the conclusion that I walk around like that little kid from the Peanuts who always has a dirt cloud around him. Though, if you haven’t noticed, no one seems to give a shit. Not even Charlie Brown who has some serious depression problems.) So, for hypothetical purposes, let’s pretend that I am engaged.

Things My Potential Hubby Can Never Do

walk into my room.

See, this already is a problem. I’m about to marry a guy who can’t walk into my room? Closet Freak is bad enough, but Room Freak? What if I have to get something out of my room?

“Hey, let me grab something real quick.”

“I’ll help.”

“NOOOOOOO!”

(Door slams in his face and the click of the lock is heard, then the twisting of the knob three or four times to make sure it’s really locked, then a heavy sigh of relief on the other side of the door from yours truly. If a guy sticks around after I do this, we have bigger problems than the room.)

You’re wondering, what’s so wrong with Natasha’s room? Is it that messy? Look, people, “mess” is an under-the-deepest-darkest-sea-where-Ursula-dwells-statement. (Understatement, if that was hard to follow.) Yeah, clothes do not ever enter the realm of the closet; I can’t see my floor; I step on things that break and then I’m bleeding all over the clothes that are on the floor because something is sticking out of the bottom of my foot and then blood gets on my bed when I go to sleep with my bleeding foot and he'll see blood on my bed and that's gross enough and weirdly mysterious and not in a good way all because I didn't see the fucking tac or pin or giant knife or whatever it was on the floor because the CLOTHES are on the floor and I didn't see because I don’t walk with my head down because I used to do that and everyone would be like “Awww Natashaaaa why are you so sadddd...” and I’d be like, “Awwww why don’t you go FUCK YOURSELF,” but the floor of my room is irrelevant. My mess goes beyond the norm. I picked up some construction paper to write on and then realized I was writing on a dried up piece of balogna. I thought there was a cup of pudding on my dresser until it hit me that I don’t eat pudding. Whatever it is continues to mold and I don’t plan on halting the process. I found cat shit in my room a week ago and it’s still there.

expect to eat

I don’t cook. I make scrambled eggs and that’s it. I put cheese on these eggs...I’ve burned the cheese to a crisp so many times making my scrambled-eggs-concoction that now I absolutely love the taste of dried-up-brown-mozzarella. It’s delicious. I don’t go grocery shopping. There are better things to spend my money on, like Mad Monster Party bobbleheads. Isn’t that supposed to be a man’s dream? A wife who can cook him some good meals!

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Honey! Let me give you a kiss!”

“Look babe, we’ll kiss later. Where the fuck is my lasagna.”

See, in my home, there would not be lasagna. There would be eggs. If even that. My husband would not only have incredibly high cholesterol, but---no, that’s it actually. High cholesterol. And that won’t fly if we plan on growing old together.

walk into my closet

Now, I don’t actually think that someone’s closet is a regular place for people to walk into. It’s small and dark and that would be incredibly bizarre if you brought a boy over and he either:

asks to look in your closet

“Can I look in your closet?”

“What? No. That’s weird.”

strolls on into your closet

“Potential Hubby? Where are you?”

“I’MMMM INNNN YOURRR CLOOOOOSETTTT...”

“What?”

“I’MMMM INNNN YOURRR CLOOOOSETTTT...”

“Well get the fuck out!”

opens the door of your closet then closes it

“Why did you just do that?”

“Do what?”

“You just looked into my closet.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So that’s weird.”

“I was just looking.”

“At what?”

“Your closet.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“This conversation is going nowhere. Leave.”

“Before I go...can I go in your closet?”

“NO YOU FREAK.”

So if someone future-groom of mine came over, he would either see an empty hamper or a hamper full of clothes. Though these are two complete opposites, they mean exactly the same thing: I don’t do laundry. The fact that I don’t do laundry would make him wonder if my clothes are dirty...meaning ALL my clothes...meaning the clothes UNDERNEATH my clothes...and he would think that is gross. And he would leave. And I would have no groom and no clean clothes.

(Look, just to clear things up, I have plenty of clothes to survive for months without washing a single article. And I have been to known to occasionally use a washer and dryer, just not as often as most. I have better things to do than wash my clothes, people. Like wear my clothes.)

See? I'm screwed.



Saturday, September 5, 2009

How To Lose A Roommate In Ten Days

It's only my third week in Dorm Life and I already feel complete and utter SUCCESS in my Ultimate Quest To Piss Off My Roommates, also known as, How To Lose A Roommate In Ten Days, also known as, What I Do Instead of Homework, also known as, I'm Immature So What Fuck Off.

Luckily, there are 4 of us total, and luckily, one of them shares my unexplained impulses to make other people feel incredibly uncomfortable in their very own home. Sure, you could do the typical things, like play loud music, leave your trash everywhere, bring a boy back and make loud noises with him till the wee hours of the morning, bring ten boys back and make ten times the noise till the wee hours of the morning, but none of these things quite spark my interest. My Partner in Crime and I (it has struck me that you must have a partner in crime when it comes to these things; otherwise, it's just "majority rules" and you lose) have together come up with not five, but SIX creative but easy ways to make your roommates want to smother you in your sleep that, yes, we have in fact put to the test. Enjoy.

1. When your roommates spend 4 whole days decorating the living room with color-coordinated couch cushions and have hung on the walls black and white photographs as well as paintings, tell them you want to help decorate. This alone will freak them out. Watch their facial expressions significantly change when you say you're going to go to Dollar General to buy the stuff you think would look great. Come back with a giant Jeff Gordon poster and stick it right next to the Painting of Tulips.

2. Blow up one or two condoms and tape them to the walls. At first, your roommates will think you have just been hiding a secret talent for making balloon animals. Then, when they realize they cannot figure out what animal you have made, (is it a worm? a caterpillar? a maggot?), they will most likely move in closer and then see that it is just an inflated Trojan. Magnum-sized. You may wake up the next morning to find that your strategically placed rubbers are now strategically placed in the trash can. But this is why you bought a pack of condoms, not just one.

3. As soon as Autumn rolls around, suggest that you decorate your dorm with "Autumn-like" things. Knowing that Jeff Gordon has nothing to do with the season of Fall, your roommates will be ecstatic. Trek it back to Dollar General and come back with an innocent little scarecrow to hang on the front door. When your roommates have left, cut a hole in the scarecrow's pants and glue one of his hands in there. Then, splash a few dollops of white-out onto his pants. Now, not only will he scare away the crows, he will scare away your roommates. All with gizz in his pants.

4. Purchase a brand new set of chalk. Colored, preferably, though white chalk will do just fine. When your roommates walk out the front door, be seated on your balcony with newly purchased chalk and be drawing girly things, like flowers, or ponies, or ponies in flowers. As soon as they are out of sight, begin to draw giant penises right outside your front door. Don't have them all look the same, try changing up the size, shape, or action the giant penis is partaking in. It may be tempting to just write the word 'PENISSSSS.' Do not do this. Please remember that a picture speaks a thousand words.

5. There will be a time where one of you will get sick. It is likely that once one of you gets sick, all of you will. Put on a smile and offer to buy everyone cough drops. Return with bags and bags of cough drops. Also return with rolls and rolls of double-sided tape. Stick one-inch strips of tape onto walls, cupboards, cabinets, and your roommate's bananas. Carefully smack a cough drop onto each strip. Voila! Feng shui and on-the-go throat lozenges.

6. Go buy a kitten. Do not consult your roomies about this, just go do it. Come home with kitten. When Roommates tell you that you cannot keep this kitten because you could all get expelled since pets are against school policy, tell them to fuck off.

Now, keep in mind that you must do all of these things in the middle of the night while your roommates are sleeping. Then, the next day, do not mention any of these things you have done. Just act like nothing happened. Nonchalantly grab a cough drop off of the milk in the fridge, don't even look at the scarecrow jacking off, and continue to change your new kitten's litter box. It's much more satisfying that way, I assure you.