I’m convinced my roommates’ cat Bullseye has a problem. They shrug it off as him eating to fast and throwing it up because he eats to fast. But this happens way too often that I begin to think you know what, if my cat did that I think I’d be like Houston! we have a problem take him to the veternarian! Anyone ever encounter a problem as such? Cat throws up after eating food…It’s annoying especially when they use your favorite mountain dew towel to clean up the puke and leave it to sit in a corner in the living room instead of washing it for you… which left it being no so salvagable.

Being home without roommates with a twelve pack of ice cream sandwiches and two twenty four packs of soda and still having almost a whole pack of both a few days later is awesome. This is what I love about living alone. From a financial standpoint I honestly wish I could some days I’d save a great deal of money is one thing. I’ve been indulging in falling asleep on the living room couch watching movies.

Kung Fu Panda – HILARIOUS. I just love love love jack black. (mental note- I want a boyfriend funny like him.) I’m a sucker for cartoon movies. Ice age, Chicken Little, Wall-e… I’m there. The jokes were there for both the young and older crowd. Somedays, you just want to lose yourself in something. me, it’s cartoons. Check this movie out if you have a chance.

The Eye – DISAPPOINTMENT! It took me a total of two days to see this movie in it’s entirety. I fell asleep a series of like five times watching this movie. Then I tried to watch it while I looked something quick up on the internet and BAM! I’m totally searching the net and had to rewind the film a few many more times because well, it bored me to tears. The whole plot was obvious it wasn’t scary more annoying than anything else in this world.

Tomorrow, I actually only have to wake up for one job for an hour and then I have the day to myself and no roommates in the house! hooray! My other boss was like don’t bother coming in we’re going to be dead. Sweet deal, huh? Of course, you know since I have no roommates home you know it’s a great time.

Dear roommate…

We’ve had this conversation several times before, I’ve asked you several times to reprimand your cat for things such as… teaching them right from wrong. But apparently, you don’t listen to me and it goes through one ear and out other. Your cat once again, shit in my bathtub obviously you’ve never taught your cat to go in the kitty box or it only does so when it wants to. And the solution to the problem is not to tell me to close my bathroom door. And anytime I have brought this problem up you have brushed it off or told me just close your door. Therefore, when your gone on your vacation this next week and a half. I’ll be the one to teach your cat something perhaps it’s not nice to pee, or crap on other people’s stuff or maybe I’ll just let him crap all over your things and see how you like it.

sincerely,

your roommate

Normally on any given day somebody else cooks I’m like “hooray!…yay! I don’t have to worry…” I usually love it when any of my roommates cook. Well, I’m making it a rule that under no circumstances should I ever eat anything Jen makes this only occurring to me after gagging on a few pieces of what I thought were chicken and really weren’t and still as of right now I have no idea what they were. I don’t care to know after two times of this happening I put the bowl down and deemed her food inedible or maybe I just get grossed out way too easily. Anybody else get super grossed out when you chew on pieces of what you think were chicken but in reality it was the fat from the chicken…or the skin?

There are two types of hogs in my point of view. The animal and then the animal who doesn’t like to share. My problem is the latter. The mammoth (Jen) is hogging the Xbox, and playing my game to boot. I figured eventually she would get exhausted from playing. No, she played straight through till midnight. I got home at 8:15pm from my second job and I would of thought that would be plenty of time to get some game playing out of her system. Fat Chance on my part. I think it’s funny how all the games they have are mine and how I never get to play any of them. I think the only game I’ve beat is Katamari, and I have fifty billion others I want to play, but nobody wants to let me.

You know what stinks, is when you manage to find what you think is a half drunk bottle of mountain dew and you get all excited in anticipation you rush into work at 6am thinking “mmm…caffeine..” that you shove it in the freezer waiting for it to become ice cold. I finally took a sip just now and was saddened to find it was water. WATER?! Yes, it’s water. Ice cold water. The anticipation of thinking it was an ice cold mountain dew makes me sad that it just wasn’t.

I get home from a long day at my second job. I’m exhausted and on the drive home Rob tells me, “Jen’s home..” No biggie, I think to myself that just means ignore her. Many people would ask why resort to this cruel and unusual way of dealing…Well, If I talk to her about 99% of what I say flushes itself out like diarrhea from Jen’s mouth at her place of employment (my old job). End result everybody knows my business without even a peep from myself. Hence, I don’t talk to woolly mammoth Jen.

Then Rob says, “she asked if I was cooking for us or if I was cooking for all of us. So, I told her, All of us”… I sigh out of frustration because this means beating her to the food, a race to my starvation or not. For further explanation let me tell you…eating with Jen is like eating with a clan of some indigenous tribe tasting mcdonalds for the first time. She will eat until she’s had at least three servings if she can scrounge that much, while everyone else is still on serving number one. The meaning of leftovers doesn’t exist in her vocabulary or dictionary. She could quite possibly put a all-you-can-eat buffet out of business if she wanted. That is exactly how much this girl can devour.

As we drive home, I kinda sigh out of frustration and just let it ride while forgetting about it.

Today, I decided to do the dishes at my house. They were piling up and the fact of the matter is when you can’t find a fork to save your life to eat your takeout because the delivery man or the person who packaged your food forgot your plastic utensils you get extremely frustrated or you get creative by eating with your hands. I decided to tackle this never ending mound of dishes that weren’t necessarily mine, but they were gross and I hate a gross kitchen.

As I’m sifting through the mess I find plastic cups(the fast-food kind), pieces of aluminum foil. I begin to wonder what the heck my roommates are on?! As in who got stoned enough to believe that this was the trashcan. I’m on a mad hunt for the sponge to tackle the never-ending pile, but I’m not encountering one single sponge. I know earlier on in the week there was in fact a sponge I bought it, I used it. I have one of those two sinks type deal. So I sift through the other pile and all I find is a rag, that smells like something left in the back of the fridge and dropped into a pile of sewage.

There is only one name that comes to mind, Jen. She’s done this three or four times. She throws out my sponge and begins to use a rag to wash the dishes, which is not even a rag to begin with, but in fact, a washcloth. It’s gross to me, and disgusting beyond belief. I’m more than grumpy at this point, and any notion of me cleaning the dishes to find a clean fork is out of the question, let me remind you the dishes weren’t mine but in fact hers from the previous night of her cooking and eating all this past week. It angers me my roommates don’t pick up after themselves. I beg the question, why on earth would you want to use a rag compared to a sponge? Maybe it’s just my opinion when it comes to rags and sponges. Anyways, back to my story…I throw all the dishes down not really caring if I broke one or not at this point.

in the end, I think I’m more pissed at the fact, she threw away something that’s mine.

I get home from a long day at my second job. I come home in search of something to quench my thirst. I walk into the kitchen and as I open the fridge I find something that even sesame street would say…

…”One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?”…

Of course, I have to call all three of my roommates over to say, “okay…now I’m not drunk or delirious what just doesn’t belong in here?” Of course, Rob is dumb-founded at the ridiculous-ness in the fridge. He knows, he sees. All of a sudden out of the corner of my sight I hear fits of giggles coming from my mammoth roommate Jen. Ah, ha! We have a winner. And for the people at home wondering…There was tuna in the fridge, now I don’t mean tuna that is just sitting in the fridge already made. I mean there is a can of tuna in the refrigerator. Not one, but two cans!!! Last I checked canned food goes into cupboards. Does anyone put cans of tuna in their fridge? because according to Jen everybody does it, and of course I had to say “Oh, really?” and ask the question here…

I use to think the stories you heard from friends of friends or the movies you saw about horror story roommates were all nothing but a bunch of b/s that is until I grew up to be twenty-four years old, decided to move out of mom and dad’s humble abode and get roommates to rent a house with. I lived with these people a year in a rented apartment where I lived in the living room on an inflatable bed with Rob, Andy and TC at one point by choice. I loved every minute of it. It was a freedom that as a 23 year old I dearly wanted, needed and craved. Eventually when the lease was up we decided to get a house. 1747 became my place of dwelling. In the time, I’ve lived with them I’ve learned a great deal and these are the misadventures in living with roommates.