for those following my plight...

Frank is now completely gone from the apartment!
And, if you live in the greater tri-state area and want to go with me to Ikea next week to get a couch let me know. Last time it was so bad that my friend left all the shit he had picked out in the middle of the store, out of being overwhelmed. So I need the support.
I'm getting Extorp; I already have it picked out.
My apartment is going to be so less shitty! Maybe I will feel comfortable enough to have people over besides one night stands.

On that note, there is apparently a blog called I Bang The Worst Dudes....um hasn't that been my blog for like a year??
The Jezebel people think that perhaps it is a joke....but given that I think every scenario excluding the ones with STDs has happened to me, I'm inclined to think it is not.
Anyway, what an auspicious week: Worst President Ever=gone! Worst Roommate Ever=gone!

Hope lives on in Clinton Hill.

the good news

Frank told me today that he is moving out because he got a job in D.C. He will be out by Feb 1 at the latest. For me, this means:
A complete elimination of snapping, clapping and laughing excessively at tv shows.
A 50% reduction in smoking inside.
A 50% reduction of poop stains in my toilet.
A 25% reduction in dirty dishes left in the sink for an excessive amount of time.
A complete elimination of football and ESPN watching.
A 25% increase in household cleanliness.
A complete elimination of my-milk-drinking.
A 25% reduction in awkward common area silences.
A complete elimination of loud nose blowing.
A 50% reduction in smoker's cough.

And, unfortunately, a 25% reduction in blog material.



I am going to head the steering committee on finding a roommate that I actually like. I am pretty sure that Asperger's and Stoner don't give a shit.

Hopefully this will work towards alleviating my crushing depression.

In other news, my episode of Judge Karen re-ran on Thursday. So my parents and my sister finally got to see it. Unfortunately, my friend Alex in Eugene who was the only person I knew for sure could figure out how to put it on the internets drunked out and forgot to DVR it. He did write me an email saying he was sorry...but that doesn't bring Judge Karen back, does it Alex?!?! Anyway, that's the sad news for those of you to whom I keep making empty promises of an internet showing. My mom thinks she may be able to do it...we'll see.
ALSO someone came to my blog after googling "judge karen bedbugs". How awesome is that? They saw my episode and were curious to learn more about this case. Fortunately for them my blog is a wealth of material on both bedbugs AND Judge Karen. I'm on my way to the big time, friends.

what is it i must do to pay for all my crimes

My junior year in college I lived in a "suite" with 3 other girls that I had transferred in with in the second semester of my sophomore year. A suite was 4 individual rooms, kind of separate from the rest of the dorm hallway, with a shared bathroom and a shared little hallway. Well, it turned out that the only thing any of us had in common was that we had transferred at the same time, and by fall break things were starting to get kind of miserable.
So one night I was smoking pot in my room with a couple of friends, and the most uptight of my roommates burst through the door. Now, the marijuana has apparently impeded my memory formation so I don't remember if she had asked me before to not smoke or what. All I remember is her standing in my doorway yelling something about me sleeping my life away and threatening to go to the dean of students, and me pretty much just laughing in her face. I am pretty sure I did not quit smoking pot in my room after that though.

The other night Stoner and her friend Bo were standing in the kitchen, which is right outside my room, talking very loudly at about 3 am. The babies and I had been sleeping, and Lucy stretched and shook her head which made the tag on her collar tinkle a little. Then I hear stoner saying to her friend, "Oh, are you looking for a kitty?". So I'm in bed thinking, "Um, is he looking into my room..because that's not cool." Her friend replies that he "heard a little jingle jangle." And I guess he decided that a little jingle jangle is how fat cats say hi, because he took some keys and jangled them outside my door. And jangled some more. Then sighed and said "no kitties". But, just in case, he gave the keys a few more jangles.

It is again 3 am. I woke up because someone was buzzing on the intercom. Twice. Frank ended up getting up and going to the intercom and what do you know, it's Jingle Jangle, come to see Stoner. Frank knocks on Stoner's door, but she doesn't answer and I guess Frank went downstairs and told J.J. to go away or something. Stoner came out of her room about a minute after Frank had gone back into his roo,m, so obviously had woken up during this whole thing. I imagined her reclining in a fainting chaise, "oh just send him away! I can't be bothered."

So I am sitting here thinking about what I could have possibly done to deserve this. What kind of karmic retribution am I paying...

And then I remembered that incident my junior year. Karma comes back three fold, bitch.

there's a mouse about the house; or, you're a real dude's dude

I woke up in the middle of the night on Wednesday to the squeaking of a terrified mouse that was cornered by Linus "Killer" and Lucy "The Sundance Kid" McFurry-VonMeowerton behind the tv in my room. I really hate that this always seems to happen in the middle of the night, because while I would generally be content to fall asleep and deal with a mouse corpse in the morning, I am afraid that I will in fact wake up to my cats' Thanksgiving feast on my pillow. Several restless hours later I did wake up to clean up the dead mouse in the living room. Fortunately the carnage is limited because once the mouse is dead it no longer holds their interest.

In the morning I mentioned to Frank that the cats had killed a mouse and we talked about it for awhile. Not long after that conversation, Lucy is nosing around in the corner of the living room and sure enough brings a little still alive mouse and drops it at Frank's feet.
Turns out Frank is terrified of mice. And this was a little guy, probably about the same size as the mousie pictured. Frank was crawling up the back of the couch away from this tiny mouserson. I got a dustpan and the little guy just marched up onto it and I set the dustpan on the coffee table.
"Don't leave it there!!" Frank squealed as he went to get the garbage can, into which I dumped the still live mouse. I actually felt really bad about this, but I can't be the one to kill it directly. I learned that what it takes for Frank to actually take out the garbage is a live rodent inside of it. Note to self.
So then today Frank asks me if I have some measuring tape. He explains that he is measuring newspaper. "Oh, are you framing a sports win?" I joked. He looked at me blankly. "Yes. The Giants won the Superbowl" Obviously.
"It's funny," I said, "that I don't really know you very well, but that I guessed that"
"Oh...yeah" Frank said dismissively, "Typical dude stuff."

Yeah, Frank, until you get a baby mouse in front of you, you're a real dude's dude.

this apartment is starving for an argument

I am pretty much a misanthrope in general, but recently I just want to walk down the street swinging my arms and kicking my legs and god help anyone who gets in my way.

Stoner and Frank had broken windows in their rooms and it has been this whole process trying to get them fixed. And for whatever reason, window guys were scheduled to come on Saturday...at a time when both of them would be working. They asked me if I would be around, and I said I might be but I didn't want to commit to it in case I wouldn't be. So on Saturday as I was getting ready to go run some errands, the window guys came. So because I am a nice person I did not say "Oh, actually, this isn't my problem and I want to go to the fabric store" I stayed for two hours while they fixed the windows.

So when Frank and Hannah come home, obviously they see that their windows are fixed....obviously they weren't there for the window guys...must've been Caitlin. No "Thank you". Nothing. No acknowledgement whatsoever. I am so over it. Like, I know they are inconsiderate, but I guess I keep hoping that because I am the best person ever that maybe it will rub off, but no.

Frank's parents sent him a thanksgiving card. I am going to get their address from the envelope and write a letter asking why they did not teach him any manners. I haven't really seen stoner since her window was fixed, so I am not as rageful at her. But I have a feeling that my loathing might be palpable and I haven't spoken to Frank in days even though our paths cross often.

Then yesterday at the gym it was really crowded and I was waiting for a treadmill. And there is a 30 minute limit on machines when people are waiting. There were a ton of people waiting and a ton of people who were way over the time limit. So after getting no help from the staff at enforcing the rule I tapped one woman on the shoulder who had been on for 55 minutes. She didn't get off. So then another girl who had been on for about 40 minutes saw me do that. Meanwhile, her treadmill is directly in front of the sign saying there is a time limit. So I look pointedly at her and at the sign. Nothing. So then a dude next to her got off and I got on his machine.
So whatever, you wanna be an asshole and hog the machine. Fine. Next time you want a machine someone else will be hogging it because you're an asshole.

But, when this bitch saw that she wasn't going to have to give up her machine, she smirked at me!! That just put me over the edge. I said, "Bitch, you think rules don't apply to you?!!?" But she just kept smirking. Oh man.

Well, I didn't want her to know that I am tubby and can't really run very fast or for very long. So I put the speed way up and was putting all of my anger into this workout. And the whole time I am pushing through by weighing the pros and cons of pulling the emergency stop cord which is so tantalizingly hanging in easy reach. I was in full on cartoon devil and angel on the shoulder mode.
Devil:"Well, I could always join another gym when I get banned because of this"
Angel: "But what if things get out of hand"
Angel "New York Sports Club is $30 more a month, that'll add up"
Devil: "but maybe it's a nicer gym...and you get a discount from your job.....and it's right next door to work"
Angel: "But you would never go on a weekend. What if she punches you and you are a weakling?"
Devil: "What if you have all of these untapped beat-down powers?"

Ok, so my angel conscience mostly cares about paying more for the gym and looking stupid, but it won out in the end. And to be honest, I'm kind of bummed. There are a million gyms in the city, but when am I ever going to get another chance to topple some smug bitch?

Roommate Live Blog

So when I first moved in here my roommate liaison was Frank and he was the one I talked to the most. And then I learned that he is a huge huge slob (with the exception of coaster, natch). And I thought maybe he and I would be friendly. But then I felt like every time I talked he was completely tuned out and then he would talk about himself and zone out while I was talking. So I got kind of tired of it and quit really interacting with him, and at this point I think I am actually more social with Asperger's.
Well, Frank has what appears to be a date over. Seriously I am sitting across the kitchen table from her writing about her. I am such an asshole. But, really, he shows pretty much the same disinterest in her as he shows in conversations with me.
This is actually really hilarious. I want to live blog all of his dates. Obviously he is interested because he just asked her to a movie on Sunday.
But then she was like, oh well I might have to go to this open house on Sunday.
So then he's like...um...oh yeah, that's cool...I was just...you know...asking...
haha. I love observing awkwardness so much.

Anyway, now I feel bad that I wrote Frank off and I feel like there is all this tension every time we are in the same room because we don't interact at all. And also I am usually seething with bitterness that Lucy loves him more than she loves me. Obviously that's just how he is all the time. Maybe he really wanted to be friends at first and then I wrote him off because he has poor social skills and I thought he didn't want to talk.
He is really a boring person. He probably falls on the autism spectrum too. He speaks in a serious monotone. I should make him talk to me when I have insomnia.

Man I wish I had a webcam for this date. Haha...it's kind of painful.
They're sitting across the room from each other.
I can't tell how she feels about him since she pretty much denied his sunday movie invite.

I should really live blog, like minute by minute. There's just silence right now.

Still silence.

A slight chuckle from Frank because he has ESPN on because he is apparently a jerk. Who keeps ESPN on during their date?

Now the girl just nodded at nothing. She talks really fast but I don't know if it's because that's how she always is or she is just so nervous in Frank's awesome presence. Or maybe she feels like she's being observed, which she is.

Ok, enough of my creepiness for now.

Silence.

America and Caitlin love cultural diversity

This post is basically just a series of my thoughts from the last 12 hours. I swear it's all connected.

I got the cats this litter that I don't like recently. It seriously sucks...doesn't clump, really emphasizes the ammonia odor quality of feline urine...no good. I like arm and hammer super scoop. So today I went to go get some arm and hammer super scoop. I went to the Pioneer, which is remodeling and obnoxious to go into. No super scoop. C-Town. No super scoop. The weird store next to C-Town that smells weird. No super scoop. The bodega on the corner. No super scoop. Family Dollar. No super scoop. So as I was wandering around to every store within two blocks of my apartment, I was thinking, goddammit this is what I hate about New York. I can't get my fucking cat litter. In other normal cities where they have huge grocery stores within 5 minutes of anywhere, I would be able to get all the different varieties of super scoop - multi-cat AND odor control. I ended up getting Cat's Pride...which is ok, but it's no super scoop.

Anyway, then I was leaving the gym this evening and I said goodnight to the security guard because I am polite and I was putting on my sweatshirt and he motioned me over. He was pointing at the tattoo on my ankle, which I got my senior year in college, of an Om. Pictured above. Mine is red. It's kind of awesome. I am actually always a little wary when an Indian or Hindu person notices my tattoo because I feel like I can't speak articulately about why I have it. It's really more representative of my made up snake and salamander religion, which I also can't speak very articulately about....but, like, I'm not Christian and I would never have a tattoo of a cross. Anyways, the security guard had an om tattooed on his arm. Fortunately, he didn't call me out on being a Hindu fraud and instead talked about how a lot of white people are into Hinduism and he thinks it's just great. Here are some other things I learned about him:
He is from Surinam by way of Holland
Holland is nice
Surinam is nice. There aren't a lot of people.
There aren't a lot of people from Surinam in New York.
He came here in 2002.
His daughter lives in Holland.
Holland takes care of its people better than America.
English is hard to learn.
His nephew may or may not speak good english.

Then I was thinking how much I love new york and the different kinds of people. Sometimes. Sometimes I miss homogeneity. So THEN I was all filled with naive pride for America and opportunities and black men as president. And then I was remembering election night and how it was kind of awesome to be in my neighborhood.
Living in a poor black neighborhood, across the street from the projects, basically guarantees an Obama landslide on my block. And when they called it, the streets were filled with people cheering, honking their horns, shouting, white people hugging black people and general elation. That shit didn't happen in eugene, I imagine....at least not where either my parents or my sister live.
The election also brought me and asperger's together because we watched the returns. I offered her some ice cream. She offered me some beer. And I was reminded of another time when I crossed cultural boundaries. When I worked at the nursing home in Harlem and everyone hated me because I was white, especially this girl I had to share the computer/janitor's closet with. But I noticed that she always read People. And then Anna Nicole Smith died. So I asked her if she had heard anything about why she died. And she offered me a twizzler.
Anna Nicole Smith and Barack Obama aren't so far apart as you might think. They both have united a country. Or, at least me with people who don't especially like me.
Yesterday Asperger's and I watched a documentary about these autistic savant twins. Which 1. was awesome. and 2. was very meta.

Also, I was reading a thing about racist jokes that people had heard since the election, and one of them was that the white house was going to replace the rose garden with a watermelon patch. And my first thought was that they were going to do that for purely gardening purposes. Because I just listened to this episode of Fresh Air with the guy who wrote In Defense of Food, and he wrote an open letter to McCain and Obama encouraging whoever would be in the white house next to replace the lawn with like a vegetable garden. Anyway. I am kind of pleased that that was my first assumption.

Like coming off the pill that you take to stay happy

I am a full two weeks back on anti-depressants, and it pisses me off to tell you that they are working.
Goddamn mental stability!
It pisses me off mostly at myself for thinking that I could stop them, when it was a particularly bad time to try to do so. It pisses me off because I feel like I wasted my summer being depressed because I was too stubborn to take medication.
This summer was the longest I've been off anti-depressants since I started taking them over 10 years ago. And I'm not sure that my life will ever be stable enough for me to go off them again....not like I plan on being some vagabond for the rest of my life, but we always have stuff going on that can be hard and it turns out I can't deal.
I have certainly been depressed while on anti-depressants...usually then I just change the meds or change the dose or whatever. But being on anti-depressants doesn't make me happy. I think I have written before about how much I hate it when people call prozac a "happy pill". I am not an especially happy person. I will never be a happy person. Prozac lets me funtion. Depression is a little cocoon for me. It's actually comforting. On anti-depressants I can actually feel myself coming out of my little depression nest....it's like getting out of bed. There are days when being curled up in bed is pleasant and relaxing, and forcing yourself to throw those covers off and expose yourself to the air makes you feel vulnerable. I really feel like I don't have a blanket over me when I'm not depressed.

Anyway, it's making my life a lot better. Things are going better at my job and it feels more manageable. I get less frustrated with my supervisor, and I don't cry every time I am frustrated.

My roommates make me laugh more than anything. Stoner and her dyke friend were having a burping contest yesterday. That was awesome to listen to.

I threw away another empty bag of cheese that someone left in the fridge.

Tomorrow I am buying toilet paper to keep in my room because I have bought a substantial amount-at least 9 rolls-twice in a row. We are now down to the last roll and someone has brought in a single roll of Scott. Fuck that shit. Charmin's in my room, bitches.

Asperger's has these really short shorts she likes to wear around the house. Like you can see the bottom part of her ass when she wears them. But it's getting cold and we don't have heat. Some people, like myself, stop wearing their around-the-house shorts when it gets that cold. But not Asperger's. She apparently can't give up those fucking shorts. The other day she comes barrelling out of her room like she does and she is wearing the short shorts and what could best be described as thigh-high gym socks. The kind with a couple horizontal stripes around the top except the top part is at the top of her thigh instead of, say, the lower part of a calf. So she stomps through the living room with her asperger's gait and it's: short shorts, little bit of ass, and then thigh high gym sock on down.
I laughed as she was walking by. Fortunately her disorder prevents her from paying attention to her surroundings. She and I watched two episodes of the new duggar show today. I have a lot to say about the Duggars, but that is for next time.

Small Items

I caved and quit OCM. My forehead looks like a rash broke out on it, it's pretty intense. And some people wrote things on message boards about how they should have quit when that happened because it just got worse.

I went to the doctor today because I am going to go back on anti-depressants. Apparently I will be mentally ill for the rest of my life. I'm bummed because I really wanted to quit them...but I also need to be able to get out of bed in the morning and that's not really happening so much recently. So back on we go.

It doesn't help that my living situation continues to blow. Add to the list of items in my fridge that shouldn't be there: empty carton of milk AND a mailing envelope.

Or that my job continues to suck.

I am looking for jobs in Oregon. I probably will move in January if I can.

My internet is super inconsistent here.

I really hate living here. A lot. It's fine when no one is around but stoner roommate was smoking weed and watching tv very loudly with her friends in the middle of the night and my sink is full of dishes.

I waited for the doctor for over an hour. He met with me for literally 5 minutes. I just told him what prescriptions I used to be on and wanted to be back on. And then he wrote them for me. If I had known that it was going to be like that I would have thought of something fun I wanted to be on.

My internet disconnected while I was writing that last paragraph. Hate it here.

On the plus side, since I can't watch the shows I wanted to since two roommates are watching baseball (let the snapping begin!) I think I am going to go to the gym and I wasn't going to.

Dating Disaster # 5: Don't take No for an answer

I met this Dating Disaster at a bar the same night as my date with Awkward Sexual Innuendo Guy. I abandoned ASI guy to meet my friends at the bar. However, they were all kind of talking to people so I was just sitting around. In my experience this is actually the best way to meet dudes at bars, if you're so inclined to want to do that. You're casually social with your friends, enjoying yourself, you don't look grumpy and depressed slumped at the bar by yourself and you're open game.

So this dude and I, David, started talking about the new taco truck they had put in at the bar and just kept chatting. Things were going well and he didn't come off as a douche and I was feeling pretty positive about the whole thing. However, after my disastrous date and a few other recent mishaps I had just decided earlier that day that I was going to go on a hiatus from dating. And if not from dating as a whole, certainly from one night stands and other doomed from the start dating endeavors. Which is why when David invited me back to his place I politely declined. And, because I am more open than anyone needs to be, I actually let him know that unfortunately, just that very day, I had decided not to sleep with people that I don't know.

"Oh nonono!" David said. "I didn't mean it like that...I just want to spend more time with you outside of the bar. I don't want to have sex. Of course not! I'll just sleep on the couch and you can sleep in the bed...I just wanted to get to know you better!"

Ok, ok, so I know this was a line, and I knew it was a line then...but I have the self control of a toddler so of course I ended up going home with him.

This is not actually where the disaster is. The sexy time, the next morning, all of that was really good as far as dudes from bars goes. In fact, I was actually feeling really positively about the whole experience and I had enjoyed spending time with this guy.

About a week later he called me. Another good sign. Even though I am stuck in The Rules 1995 and feel that 3 days should be the timeframe, my standards are low enough at this point that I'll accept a week. So he was at a local bar with some friends and wanted me to come out. This was more points in his favor as I think it's a bad sign when a dude won't introduce you to his friends.

So, still...no disasters here. All in all things were going well at the bar. I was having a nice time with his friends. He was being really sweet. I was feeling really good about everything.
But then we get to the time where he is thinking that maybe we should go back to his place. But I just really didn't want to.

A lot of my DDandCC's happen because I have sex with people way before I should. As sex positive as I am, I do believe that it leads dudes to have less respect for me and it doesn't really bode well for a strong relationship. So I told David that I really liked him and for that reason I did not want to go home with him.

"Oh! Nononono!" David said. "I didn't mean it like that! Of course we don't have to have sex. I just wanted to get something to eat! Why don't we just go back to my place and I'll make some pasta! No sex at all! Just a midnight snack!" (Edit: I was just re-reading this and realized I wrote "sex" instead of "snack". Oh, Freud)

Of course, I know that this is a line. But I'm really, really working on my self control and I explain to him my reasoning and insist that I just really don't want to go back to his place.

Meanwhile we had met this random girl and her mom (the girl was about our age) who were really funny and we had been talking with them. So we talk with them for a while and periodically David would bring up wanting to go back to his place and I would decline.

Eventually I am talking with the women alone and they asked me if David and I were a couple because we were so cute together. I was pretty excited about this because, even if he was being kind of obnoxious about getting me to go back to his place, I felt that it was another good sign.
So I joked, just as David re-entered the conversation, that we were not a couple and had just met recently and that he was trying to get me to go home with him but I wasn't going to because I was a respectable woman.

I thought David would get the joke since obviously he knew that we had already had sex. Boy was I wrong. We left the bar and he flipped the fuck out.

As we're standing out on the sidewalk David starts yelling at me, saying I made him look like an asshole and what did I think I was doing.
I was completely blindsided and I still don't understand why he was mad.
"You were trying to get me to go home with you," I explained. "Plus, you don't know those women and you'll never see them again. What do you care?"
He blustered something about it not being like that and that he just wanted to get something to eat and blah blah stuff I don't remember because I was kind of drunk.
Finally he calmed down, "Let's go get some pizza."

So we went to the pizza place and we're ordering when David realizes he doesn't have any cash.
"Let's just go back to my place and I'll get some cash", he suggested.
"Aaaah! I don't want to go home with you!"
He blustered some more about that he needed to get cash or whatever. Which was total bullshit, obviously, because there are ATMs on every corner in that neighborhood.
We mumbled some apologies as I left.
"Listen." I said. "I date a lot of assholes, and I don't need it from you."
"That's just it! I'm not an asshole!"
"Ok. Well. We're both drunk. Let's talk when we're not."

Predictably, we never spoke again. At first I was hurt, because I actually probably would have hung out with him again. But that just goes back to all of my self respect issues. Because, bottom line, he was an asshole. A not-asshole would take me at face value when I say I don't want to have sex, without an explanation. A moderate asshole would take it after an explanation. But he just wouldn't let it go. Even after we get into a huge fight about it he comes up with some nonsense to get me back to his place.
Ridiculous. It's too bad though because he worked for MAC and totes could have hooked me up. Oh well.

In OCM news: I think I am in the end phases of the purging stage. Not so sure how I feel about it, because I have a ton of red marks. Hoping they go away soon. I've been using the apple cider vinegar toner, which is recommended for the red marks.

In roommate news: I have had maybe 3 conversations with Asperger's. Two of them involved her wanting to be in on cookies I had made and the third is a combination of passing remarks I have made. Today she noted that I do not like local news. Which is true. And I must have mentioned that in conversation number 3. They DO care about me!

You can live the life you like

I think because my life is so the opposite of what I would like it to be right now, I have turned to blogs that have nothing to do with anything relevant to my current life.
Here is a secret about me...I live in Brooklyn, but I am not really cut out for urban living. What I want, really, is the American cliche. I want a garden. I want to bake my own bread. I want to eat food made from scratch and not delivered by an Asian dude on a bike. I want to sew clothes for my children and experiment with gluten free diets. I want to live alone...with space and cute decor. I want to become a luddite.
In reality, I live in the largest metropolitan area in the US. I am all but tied to my laptop and my DVR. I shop at Target weekly. I have shootings on my doorstep and dead cockroaches in my hallway. I live in a frat house with three other people who don't talk to me. Sure, I try to insert little bits of my fantasy life into my real life. The recent introduction of the OCM is an example. I try to bake bread, but only succeed in making hard tack. I bake my little heart out...and then in my depression binge eat my product. I shop at the farmer's market. I made my own pesto! Using farmer's market basil! I nearly chopped off my finger when I turned on the chopper while I was using my finger to clean it out. Because I am a moron. But it's not enough, so I take refuge in blogs.
My current favorite is Hillbilly Housewife. But there are others. Basically these blogs have a few things in common. Usually they are written by very Christian women. They always have several children. They homeschool. They live frugally. They sew.
The frugal living is what usually draws me in in the first place because I come across these blogs when I am looking for tips for leaving on the cheap. But I don't know what it is that appeals to me that I keep coming back. I think part of it is that these women seem to have it together in a way that really appeals to me. They are organized enough to home school, keep a clean and organized home (all I want!), bake healthy homemade meals AND blog. I can't even manage to blog on regular basis. They clip coupons and know how to shop for deals. They would never impulse buy a $7 half gallon of Edy's American Idol birthday cake ice cream. They would make their own for 50 cents! They buy things in bulk. They use powdered milk.
And obviously I don't want my life to be like that either. One of the blogs I read, the woman covers her hair and "dresses modestly" because of her religious beliefs. And I'm not sure I could ever get on board with powdered milk. I think I would die if I had to homeschool children....not to mention they would all end up with the personality of Asperger's roommate. But I think extreme opposite of what my life is like now somehow becomes desireable...at least to read about, if not live.

Speaking of creating awkward children, I decided to google Asperger's roommate. My original motivation was because I had heard her talking, like almost normally, with stoner roommate. So I became concerned that she actually she hates me specifically, and that it was because she had found my facebook or my blog. Part of the reason I have felt comfortable writing about them on facebook (i.e. status messages that say "I hate my roommates") and in my blog is because they have all shown so little interest in me that I assumed they would never decide to look me up. But what if?
So first I found Asperger's Xanga (people still keep Xangas?). Where she has some angsty entries and song lyrics that are soooo meaningful. She also has a picture of herself- check it out She's all bright and cheery homecoming queen with beautiful hair. She does NOT look like that now. And she does not look like the face of Asperger's in that picture. She walks with a stompy Asperger's gait, ignores people, has short brown hair, bad skin and in general just slouches around.
And here is my favorite part. When she was in college, she auditioned to be in Playboy. Here is the link to the article. Apparently Playboy came to Arizona State where she went to college.

Claire [redacted], a 20-year-old UA student, said her history with modeling and theater prompted her interest in auditioning for Playboy. "It's a good experience," she said. "It's something you can look back on and say, 'I did that.' It's something to be proud of."

Previous modeling experience? If I didn't know that this is where she had gone to school, I would assume it was just another girl with the same name. Because that is not the girl I live with who shuts herself up in her room for hours a day. What happened to her?

In OCM news - so far I'm a big fan. Obviously in 3 days my face isn't completely clear, but I have noticed some differences. 1: My forehead felt like I had buckshot embedded under the skin, and that has dramtically improved already. Sebum plugs to the surface FTW! I can totally feel them coming up when I do it. 2: For the past several weeks I have probably had at least one new pimple every day, and I haven't had any in the 3 days I've been doing it. 3. My skin had been very oily. I would wash my face around 8 am and by 11 am I was already breaking out the oil blotting papers and I would use two and still feel like my skin was greasy. Since I've been doing OCM my skin has been significantly less oily. I used one blotting paper one day and it wasn't nearly as bad.
I've been doing the OCM at night. Some people in the morning just splash their face with water. The one day I did that was the day that I used the blotting paper. So I have been using a neutrogena cleanser in the morning and a little tea tree oil on the spots that are still there and that keeps my face in good shape all day. Today I made a toner from Apple Cider Vinegar and tea. It's supposed to help reduce red marks. I'll report back.
The downside is that it's definitely a commitment. The whole process takes about 15 minutes because I steam my face to make sure the oil really gets out. But otherwise I am a fan.

So that's it for now. I'm going to go back to my embroidery.

La-la-la-Linoleum (and other L words)

So, stoner roommate has her big dyke friend over. Recently, however, she has had an awkward dude staying here. Leading to more confusion about her sexuality, which, ultimately has zero impact on my life.

They made a frozen pizza which they decided they did not want. So I ate it. In my L word t-shirt that I got for free after I went to a season finale party. While blogging about a one night stand with a dude on my computer which has a human rights campaign sticker on it.

Leading them, I'm sure, to wonder about my sexuality. Which is fluid. The frozen pizza makes it more gay, obv.

in between the place you want to be and where you are

Ok, So I really didn't want my blog to turn into just a bunch of venting about my stupid roommates. But, there are a lot of things I don't want. For instance, I don't want to...live in this apartment any more. I don't want...the binge eating problem I appear to be developing. I don't want....Sarah Palin as vice president. Unfortunately I seem to have no control over any of these issues. So here it goes.
Last time I bought milk, I thought that it seemed that it had gone empty before I thought it should. And i wasn't sure if I had used it up and forgot, or if someone else had used it. So, next time I bought milk I wrote a little "CJ" on the cap, to avoid any milk mixups. Today I went to look at my milks, like you do, and discovered that there was maybe 2 tablespoons left in each the soy milk and regular milk. I do not leave small amounts like that in my milks because it annoys me. You know who does that? Slobs. You know who I live with? Slobs.
But still, I was like, well, maaaybe I used the milk. But then I realized. There are 4 boxes of cereal on top of the fridge (none of them are mine. I can't buy cereal because of aforementioned binge eating problem). There is NO other milk inside fridge. And, come to think of it, I'm not even sure I've ever seen any other milk in the fridge.
And, as in other areas of my life, I see that other people are not buying their own cows, but using my milk for free.

I learn a lot in my new apartment. Like problem solving. there are always several solutions to every problem. For instance, flies are a problem. And, unsurprisingly, a problem in my apartment.
One solution is to sit on the couch and watch football for 6 and a half hours straight with a can of raid at your side. When you see a fly, you get up and spray it.
Another solution is to do your goddamn dishes and eliminate the source of the problem.
Guess which is the preferred solution in my apartment.

Finally I am going to be starting a segment called, "Things in my fridge that shouldn't be there"
So far:
Empty bag of cheese.
Melon in produce drawer that has been there since i moved in and is developing a spotted pattern
Grocery store receipt.

Amish Friendship Bread

Does anyone remember amish friendship bread? Circa 1993?
I've been thinking about it recently and how maybe I'd like to make it. Even though making the starter involves using yeast, and last time I tried to make something using yeast I just made hardtack. If only I were on a merchant ship! Or a slave ship. Anything trans-atantic really. Pair that with some salted pork....you've got some fab scurvy dining.
Well, here is an article from the "Albany News Miner", about why I should not make amish friendship bread. now or ever.
My favorite parts:
The loaf of Amish friendship bread your co-worker brought to work tasted most excellent, so you complimented the chef.

Big mistake.

The following morning you arrived at work to discover a large Ziploc bag of bile-colored goo slouching on your desk. Along with it, a sheet of paper filled, top to bottom, with detailed instructions on how to care for and cultivate the goo, destined to sit and sour on your counter for 10 days as you take turns mushing it, ignoring it, squeezing out built-up-fumes and adding various ingredients — milk, sugar, flour — before the final baking.

I had forgotten about "burping the bag" which is sick. I really can't handle disgusting bodily functions being attributed to inanimate objects. Sick.
Also they don't put that you add in pudding! That's the best part.

“This is the chain letter of food,” said Linda Picarazzi, a baker who lives in South Bethlehem, N.Y. “This stuff requires daily care. So don’t even think about going away for the weekend.”

Since instructions warn bakers to keep a bag of starter for themselves (since it allegedly can’t be made from scratch), and that freezing’s a no-no, law-abiding friendship bread bakers are therefore condemned to an seemingly endless cycle.

I love that you are forced to eat AFB in this Sisyphean baking hell of delicious pudding cinnamon sugar fermented ziploc bag bread. You can't ever stop! It's kind of how I feel about my podcast and blog subscriptions, but with food.

Bottom line, I will not be attempting to start an AFB ring, but I secretly want someone to offer me the baggie. That is also how I feel about cocaine.

OK, so I don't want my blog to just become about my roommates, which is why there haven't been many posts. But there are many mysteries to be solved in this apartment such as: why would someone be willing to live with a cabinet full of mouse poop and dishes in the sink for days BUT use a coaster EVERY TIME he puts down a glass?!
Will awkward roommate ever be not-awkward? Given that she appears to fall on the autism spectrum, I'm guessing no.
Will stoner roommate ever offer up some of her weed? Isn't that the stoner code? Is she a lesbian? If not, why do I see the biggest, butchest dyke (who does not live here) every morning on her way to the shower?
If I paint the living room, will anyone notice? Or care? What about if I take in foster kittens? Haitian refugees?


P.S. Thanks to everyone who supported my goal of making my episode of Judge Karen the highest rated. Now someone get it on the internets so i can email it to my mom (who screwed up the dvr-ing of it).

Roommate Fail

I don't know if I've ever lived anywhere before where the roommates absolutely failed at taking care of biznass related to, you know, being on top of shit.

This is the roommate breakdown:
Roommate 1: Unemployed, getting PhD in forensic psych (finishing dissertation), looking for job as waiter. Roommate with whom I have had the most contact. Has lived here 1 year.
Roommate 2.: Grad student, socially awkward, have only seen for 5 mins since moving here. Also has lived here 1 year.
Roommate 3. Moved in a month ago. Stoner. Chill. Only person so far to acknowledge unfortunate bathroom sitch (see below).

I don't know if I mentioned it in my last post, but it bears repeating. The apartment smells kind of bad -possibly due to a mouse infestation, which I cleaned up a ton of mouse poop the other day from under the sink and filled up a black garbage bag with other plastic bags so as not to continue to leave a nice little habitat for mousersons. The other odor problem is a broken toilet. There are two bathrooms, which means less inclination to get said broken toilet fixed. But, as roommate 3 said, the toilet is STANK. It is so nasty. I don't know what it was like before...but I think my mover may have peed in the broken toilet. Thus, there has been piss just sitting in the toilet for a week.

So whatev, I have some issues with the roommates in general because they just don't really care about stuff. They had to have known about the mouse, but they just don't deal with it.

So then I was looking at the mail that is around and saw a bill from the electric company and noticed that they had missed a month. Roommate #2 is responsible for bills. So I was like, well I would prefer that bills were paid on time, but everyone forgets a month now and then and it's not in my name so I don't care.

Then I was looking at mail on the kitchen table today and saw a notice from the gas company. Apparently they owe $500 and they are going to shut off the gas.

Fabulous. These are all adults here, but absolutely nothing gets taken care of. It's ridiculous. And I was actually looking for bills to find the cable bill because I think I will take it upon myself to order us DVR. Given that Roommate #1 said he had been thinking about getting DVR since they moved in - 1 year- I'm just gonna go ahead and assume that this place is a DIY kind of deal.

On a positive note I cannot recommend highly enough DiscountContactLenses.com. I was reluctant to order online b/c I wanted contacts right away. But I went to a place by my work to pick some up and they were charging $35 a box. DCL.com was $13 a box. I put in my order and they emailed me 2 hours later (record time!) to say it had shipped. I ordered the expedited shipping (making the total per box about $16...still way cheaper), and they came today! And I ordered Weds!
Total fan.
Also, the new TJ's is opening up like 4 blocks from my work.

D-d-d-d-downgrade

I am moving tomorrow. I am really nervous about this apartment because there are 3 other roommates. I don't actually like other people, so this is kind of a lot for me. Plus, I think they may have been a little disingenuous about how clean they are.
But there it is.
And, basically, I can never move again, because in the 4 years that I have been an actual grown up, my quality of living has just disintegrated.
The first place I ever lived on my own was 2 bedrooms, 1.5 baths, with a garage, dishwasher, garbage disposal (there's another small pleasure. How great is it to not have to fish crap out of the sink. Ugh it makes me nauseous just thinking about it.), washer and dryer!, etc. for which I paid $450 a month.
This place will be 3 other people, a room that is smaller than I thought it was when I first saw it, and of course none of the modern conveniences that I would like to be a part of my life. Someday soon we will be reunited, washer and dryer....dishwasher, you can come too.
However, I will have cable again, which means I can quit watching Everybody Loves Raymond. AND i will have cable in my room, which I have not had since that first place 4 years ago....and if there's anything I love, it's living the life of a recluse. Just me on my bed with my cats watching tv.
Blah blah blah I know that was in Oregon and now I'm in New York and it's different...but it has just been a steady decline since then.
Anyway, I should be packing, which is why so many updates.

Fair warning

This is the kind of post no one ever likes to read, because it's about how I'm bummed/stressed/depressed/annoyed I am.
But whatever, my blog views have reduced significantly now that the novelty of my tv appearance has worn off. Clearly all of you are just interested in riding the coattails of my fame.
My blog readers:Me::Aidnan Ghalib:Britney Spears.

Anyway, I am moving tomorrow. I found a sublet in Williamsburg that is really cute. I couldn't find a permanent place, but that's ok because this will give me a lot of time to find somewhere really great. Plus, the girl is excited about having cats, which is important to me.
Moving is stressful in the best of circumstances and I'm in a little bout of depression right now, so everything seems super overwhelming. I have to put some of my stuff in storage, and the storage place was supposed to provide movers but no one was available. And it turns out finding movers is hard when you wait until the last minute at the end of the month, and they are kind of expensive.
I had rented a "large capacity" car and a couple people are supposed to be helping me out (bless their souls) so we'll see how it all pans out. Right now it's torrential downpour and I think it's supposed to be similar tomorrow afternoon. I am gonna owe a couple people my first born child.

While I'm stressed about moving, I'm also ready to be done with this neighborhood and done with my roommate. I was telling her about my moving concerns and as per usual she just has to shit all over everything I say or do....she's super critical, but I don't think she thinks she is...which just makes it worse. So then when I told her that her negativity wasn't helpful she called me ridiculous and walked out.
So over it.

I'm also over the job search. I went to a job interview last week and the director never introduced herself to me (even though she was interviewing me) AND she checked her blackberry during the interview. Awesome. Needless to say, I won't be taking a position if offered one.
The job I have basically been offered sounds great, unfortunately the supervisor is on vacation until July 10....and I would really like to get things moving sooner than that. Super frustrating.

Meh. I'm just done with everything. I am planning on sequestering myself in my new place and playing online solitaire until September.

Basically, everything that has been going on has really made me question whether staying here was really the right choice for me.
Things will be better once I am done moving, have cut off contact with assholes in my life and get a job.
The secret is being hard to implement right now.

Real World: Bed-Stuy - The make-up

My roommate emailed me earlier today to say she wanted to talk about all this drama plus "a couple other things". So I spent all day fretting about what else I could possibly have done.
By the time she came home, she and I had already had about 20 imaginary fights. So it was pretty anticlimactic when we had a mature, calm discussion about her concerns, my sympathetic response to her concerns and then a friendly discussion about the last week's happenings.
I guess it shouldn't really come as a surprise that we fought and made up.
Here is a transcript of a conversation she and I had a while ago:
A: *something something* and then you get mad and slam your door
C: What? When have I ever slammed my door?
A: We got in a fight once and you slammed the door.
C: No I didn't. What fight?
A: Well I don't want to bring it up again.
C: Was it the time we got in a fight about the dairy industry?
A: No.
C: That time you were so mean about me going on a detox diet?
A: No.
C: That time I said the Bushes might be a nice family and you got so mad?
A: No.
C: That time I accidentally invited Nelson over for dinner? (Nelson is a neighborhood crazy. He didn't come for dinner.)
A: No.
C: That time I thought a moth was a cockroach and you called me a fucking idiot?
A: No.
C: That time I said Paris Hilton shouldn't have been in solitary confinement?
A: No.
C: That time we got in a fight about the shroud of turin?
A: No.
C: That time you were going to move out without giving any notice and then Sam turned off our power?
A: No. But you might have that time, too.
C: No I didn't. I give up, when did I slam my door?
A: It was right before our party when you said that you were throwing me a party.
C: OMG!! That time you got so irrationally pissed off because I misspoke. God, you're such an asshole.

Well, so ends another weekend here in Bed-Stuy. All is calm, the cats are looking out the window and I am going to get myself some ice cream.

Real World: Bed-Stuy

The roommate situation hasn't gotten any better as she is now giving me the silent treatment and sending me emails worthy of passive aggressive notes.com. On Thursday night she sent me an email from the next room letting me know that she had transferred money into my bank account for the rent. I emailed her back to let her know that I wasn't going to do the passive aggressive email bullshit. I realized after the fact that sending that as an email was actually just doing that. But in my defense, I rarely see her any more AND she is giving me the silent treatment, so what else am I to do. She wrote me back a hilarious and ridiculous email, which I am going to go ahead and passive aggressively cut and paste here.
"it's the same situation as if one of us were cockroach breeders and one day they all got out, and we expected the landlord to cover it."
this was my favorite part of the email because it doesn't even make sense. Was I breeding bedbugs? Did I do something specifically to warrant having bedbugs? I know she blames me, but I don't know why. Plus it's just a bad argument, if I was breeding bedbugs I certainly wouldn't want them exterminated. She's just not thinking like a breeder and that's where her argument loses power.
"i don't believe that this is about the money for you. it's just another story for you to tell, and it's at the expense of our friendship."
This was actually kind of hurtful, because it makes it seem like I actually have to go out of my way to contrive situations that are worthy of a story. I think we can all agree that I naturally make enough terrible decisions that I shouldn't have to go the lengths of suing someone just to get a good story. That's why the blog is named A Horrible Warning! The story is just a positive benefit of the lawsuit. And her irrational rage at me just makes the story better.
In a later email she tells me that she is angry because she needs the security deposit to move. I think this was her first ever real apartment, so I suppose she can be forgiven for not realizing that you never get the security deposit before you move. But I don't know why someone has not told her that, assuming she has been ranting to others that I am ruining her ability to move b/c we will not be getting back the deposit.
It's also interesting that she is so angry at me about that. I have a right to sue my landlord, and if he wants to do something illegal like vindictively withhold our security then that is a decision that he is making and I can't be responsible for. In general I just don't get her rage.
In sad news, she took our barbecue off the fire escape. I guess that means she's anticipating that we won't get beyond this during barbecue season. Too bad because it's my favorite part of summer.