anything but boring

Well, I really thought that since I am student teaching, my life would be completely boring. Well, not really boring, but pretty uneventful. I was expecting to go to school, come home, and go to sleep, and then do it all over again. Don't get me wrong. I do do that... and I love it. Like right now, I have nothing really to do. Heavy duty teaching doesn't come for a little while, so all I do when I come home from school is relax or goof off on the computer... I know, if I have so much time to "goof off on the computer," one would think I would blog more. Nope. I am usually pretty tired. Today, I am tired, but I'm also dressed really nice. So instead of getting out of my nice clothes and hopping into the bed, I'm just sitting around looking good. It's retarded, but oh well.

But as I said, life has been anything but boring. Let's see where it starts...

Well, last Friday morning, I checked my e-mail to find that the editor of the Editorials section of The Tiger was bringing my attention to a letter sent in that was going to be puclished in that week's edition. At first, I was really nervous. But, it turns out, it was just some lame old prude construction science professor talking about how unwise I was being and about how terrible my colmuns were. I loved it... nothing like whining from some old coot to fuel my fire. I really didn't think I was THAT controversial... I guess I am. I feel like Rush Limbaugh, and it's awesome. Mr. George Bunch is getting a big slap in the face this Friday though. I win. I always do.

Then Friday night, I got little brother #3, grand little #2, and GREAT grand little #1! Michael Hubbard is my new little, Megan Wade is my new grand little, and Deborah Threadgill is my new great grand little. "From forth the loins of [me] has come a small community!!!" That is what the minister said at my great grandmother's funeral... LOL. Unfortunately, the number of great grand children and great-great grand children were incorrect. So, scratch small community and replace it with small cul-de-sac.

Friday and Saturday, I got to se my fabulous brothers from UGA. I really missed being so close to them. Spending Saturday night with them was great. Saturday night was SO AWESOME... despite one of the douchebags that lives in building 104 of the Reserve. Actually, I think that douchebag made the night even better. Our party ended up being tons better than his anyway... and I am saying it was HIS because the other 3 guys in his apartment are band members, and he didn't intend on having a sketchy band party. Well, his non-band party sucked. But the sketchy band members really enjoyed his PJ.

Now the fun ends... and the pain starts. It was Sunday when I realized something was terribly wrong. A bladder/kidney infection... Yeah. Well, here's some news for everyone. I don't really talk about it at all, 'cause I don't want people to think about it and worry about me too much. But, I have chronic renal failure. It means that my kidneys are going to quit working eventually. Right now, they don't work well all the time... which is why every year or so I get a REALLY painful and miserable infection. I'm not going to talk about all of the pain. But I will say that part of it is your back hurting because your kidneys are spazzing the hell out. It isn't fun at all. The past few days have been horrible. Just today I began seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. It isn't completely done with, but it's getting there. Seriously, the worse pain I have ever been in. I wouldn't wish it on ANYONE.

Yeah. So, that's that. Now I have updated the world on my life... and it isn't as boring as one would imagine from my lack of postings. I am really enjoying student teaching... and this new schedule I'm on. I'm also loving the fact that I have my own bathroom and there are only 3 of us living here. It's really nice. Things are going well... if you don't count my stupid kidneys.

I guess I'll succumb to taking this nice outfit off and get in the bed. LOL.

welcome, mr. parks!

That is what the board said all day in Mrs. Stephens' class at Code Elementary. And I really did feel welcome. All I can say is that Code Elementary is everything that Central Elementary is not. I knew that the first time I went there it was significantly different, I just couldn't explain why. Now, I STILL can't explain why. All I can say is that my 4th graders and my cooperating teacher, Mrs. Stephens help make it tons better.

Like I said, I felt incredibly welcome. Mrs. Stephens had a desk set up for me in the back of the classroom, as well as a first day snack! She is so awesome. My friend Christy teaches right next door to Mrs. Stephens, so she had prepared the entire 4th grade for my arrival. They all knew my name before they even got into homeroom. I got tons of "Hey, Mr. Parks!" and "It's nice to meet you." Not to compare them to my kids from Central, but they definitely showed A LOT of hospitality. One of Mrs. Stephens' students showed me around, and another talked me to death about everything from the C.O.D.E. of conduct to the 3 cats that live in the school courtyard. I also got gifts from a few students. The one that gave me a tour gave me a candy cane (which I am scared to eat, since Christmas was almost a month ago), the one that told me about the cats drew me a picture of one of them so I wouldn't get her mixed up with one of her kittens, and another student gave me a Dwyane Wade basketball card.

And even today, I did more than I normally did at Central. I graded papers, cut out laminated name tags, got something laminated, placed new nametags on desks, watched 3 students who stayed in at recess, and assisted students during enrichment time.

Today was just an all around great day. I am sure that I am going to really enjoy working at Code. The teachers, students, staff, and even environment are so condusive to learning and enjoyment.

I can't WAIT to go back tomorrow...

as depression sets in...

Don't worry. It's not serious depression. I was just on campus today... and it was a highly novel experience. Last semester, if I wasn't over at the Brooks Center for band, I was getting off of the CAT bus at the Trustee House and going to Tillman. I hadn't been on the other side of Brackett since this summer. Today I walked behind there again... delivering recommendation letters for grad school. Everyone was rushing to get to their classes. That is when it hit me... I don't have any more classes. I might as well not be a college student. I feel so old and distant from everyone. I know it's all cool and all not to have to report to class and have assignments due... but honestly, I feel as if I am not on the same level as my friends... don't get me wrong. I don't think I am any BETTER than they are... I just feel old and archaic now.

On top of that, Jenee and I had a really deep discussion just about an hour ago. It was way too deep and intense to put in here... but it's got my head swimming. It's a good thing I don't have anything productive to do tomorrow, 'cause this is gonna have me in deep contemplation for a while...

To him that o'ercometh, God giveth a crown...

carri's wedding

My friend, Carri Rowan (McDonald) from high school got married today... It's so hard to believe that she is married... I mean, it seems like only yesterday we were in concert choir goofing off and then at Pizza Hut barely working. Good lord... definitely a sign of growing up.

Her wedding was only the second of my peers that I have attended, however, this year there are TONS more... Alan and Misty, Racheal and Brandon, Heather and Nate, Allyson and the famous major league baseball player Landon Powell (that is just fabulous... my Ally really hit it big time)... and I just found out at Carri's wedding that my friend Meredith from high school is getting married in December!

It's all really exciting... and scary. It's like, all these people are not going to be kids anymore. It's kinda like regardless of how old you are, if you are single, you are still in a way "growing up." No offense to older people who aren't married or even young people who are. Beth and Jeff don't seem incredibly grown up... well, I mean, they do have a house and very god jobs, so they are definitely "socially mature," but I dunno. It's like the whole marriage ceremony is some sort of rite of passage in a way. There's just something about a daughter leaving the arms of her father and entering into the arms of another man, and a son leaving the watch of his mother only to enter into union with another female... It's all very tender.

I believe this is why engagements that come in less than a year are looked down on so much. Yes, yes, I know there are people who have parents and friends who got engaged after like a month and they have been married for years and years, but lets be serious. Can TRUE love really be found in a couple weeks? Marriage is more than just a prolonged date. Marriage is for life.

Today at the wedding, Ericka mentioned that Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt "broke up." I was like, "Um, isn't that called a divorce?" It's like celebrities are exempt from using the same terms as we common folk are. And what made it even funnier was that Carri's husband Mark was standing right behind us when I said the word "divorce" and in a panic he was like, "What?!" It was kinda weird to be talking about divorce on the day of a wedding.

I truly hope that Carri and Mark last for the rest of time... them and all my other friends getting married. I just hope that they are all "grown up" enough to take this big step.

Congratulations, Carri and Mark!

the biggest double-edged sword ever

My mother has gone completely beserk.

And let this be documented as the first time I have bloggged so quickly after waking up.

Okay. Today was my last day at work... thank God. My last day to wake up at 5 am to go and work at the tragic store known from now until the end of the month as "Rich's-Macy*s." I was tired this afternoon. Yes... even though we got done really early and I got off early. On top of that, tomorrow, I have to go and take the Praxis II exam in GREENWOOD, which is like at least an hour away... and I have to be there at 7:30. So, pretty much, it's 5 am tomorrow as well.

Well, apparently, sometime between now and after I fell asleep this afternoon, my dad called. I know that he called, and I know he said something along the lines of, "I'm stuck and I'm going to call your mother." He seemed very okay with this... from what I can remember. Now granted, I was asleep, and when people are asleep, things don't work all the time... You don't always hear everything that is going on, and you don't always know the seriousness of something unless someone is screaming, jumping up and down, or throwing things at you. This calm and somewhat unclear statement from my father did not wake me in the least. And from what I can remember, he never said, "Come and get me." He didn't even ask if I was sleeping I don't think... then again, I don't remember.

Well, I fell back asleep, or rather drifted back into a deeper sleep, and was just awoken when I realized that no one was here and the phone kept ringing constantly. My mom was on the other end saying, "So tell me why it was more important for you to sleep than to go get your father." I was like, "WHAT?" Somehow she had been under the impression that I told my dad, "No. I will not come pick you up, because I am indulging in some much needed sleep... scalawag." Yeah right. If I had needed to go do it (and this is what I said, VERBATUM) "As upset as I would be to get awoken out of my sleep, I would do it." Then she proceeds to tell me how disturbing to hear that I said, 'as upset as I would be.' She was like even if it was in the middle of the night and someone she cared for needed a ride, she would not be upset, but worried about that individual. WHATEVER. No one is going to sit there and tell me that if they get woken up, they are going to immediately jump to doing ANYTHING without waking up cranky and a little disturbed. If you were asleep, your sleep was DISRUPTED. Dictionary.com defines disrupted as "To interrupt or impede the progress, movement, or procedure of." Does that sound pleasant? Would you really be okay with anything you enjoy being interrupted? No.

Well, then I start getting frustrated at how insanely literal she is taking me and how holier than thou she is trying to be... like there is nothing in the world that could make her upset from waking up in the middle of the night to do something... oh, but there IS, apparently. I try to rebut my statement by saying that it is only human nature to be cranky when one is wakened from sleep. I then tried to tell her that there have been times when I have been woken up in the middle of the night only to go and retrieve someone who is too drunk to drive themselves home... THEN, she says the unimaginable... "Well, yes, I WOULD be 'upset' if I had to wake up and go get someone because they were irresponsible and were too drunk to handle themselves! THEN, I would be upset!"

How in the world does that make sense?! I am supposed to jump to the aid of my father who is stuck on the bad side of town in a nice outfit, but when someone is stranded and the only way they can get home is to put their life or someone else's life in danger, I have a right to be upset and angry?! That is the biggest double standard ever. My mom has become so pious, that even helping someone who is doing something inappropriate is not warranted, even when their life is in danger.

I hate it. I absolutely hate it. I now have a stomach ache, and want to leave this house immediately. What kind of house do I live in? It's so bad that I am afraid to admit that I like the movie Saved! If being the son of a preacher wasn't bad enough, I am now the son of a pious preacher's wife.

Someone do me a favor... someone next week, get really drunk... call me and get me to come pick you up. I just want to do it... and NOT get an attitude about it, just so I can spite my mother...

let's talk about inventory...

This job is the worst, most boring, most lame, most terrible job I have ever had. I am so serious. This morning and yesterday morning, I got up at 5 am DREADING what was ahead of me. However, this morning, I dreaded it more than yesterday, because I knew what was in store. Yesterday, I was not happy, but I think most of that was due to the fact that it was 5 in the morning... I don't even get up that early to go teach at school! Ridiculous.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of spending 5 hours in a little tiny stock room with 4 other people. Talk about torture. The room was small, cramped, and hot. Several times I felt nauseous and like I was going to pass out. And it was so monotonous... Shoot the laser thing at the merchandise and go. As much as I like the idea of killing the merchandise, it was so boring... and there was SO much of it! If those 5 hours in the housewares stock room wasn't enough, I was sent to the textiles stock room for my last hour of work.

This hour was terrible for 2 reasons. First of all, my arms were so sore from lifting things and reaching high above my head in the first stock room, that it took all my strength to lift little packs of bedding from eye level. I mean, my arms and shoulders never hurt like that, even after conducting Tiger Band. The second reason this stock room sucked more was because of the lady in charge. Her name was Candace. You know those people who will say your name just 'cause they see it on your nametag? Well, to me, that's kinda like "getting to someone." It's kinda like, I know your name, and you don't know mine, so I got something on you. And, this lady OBVIOUSLY didn't know who my dad was (yes, sometimes that association comes in handy). So, I immediately didn't like this lady... and sure enough, today, I didn't like her even more.

Well, at 6 o'clock today, things were a little better. Instead of being in the housewares stockroom, I was on the floor in housewares. Still offended by the sight of dishes, I began scanning over in the corner by myself. I enjoyed this a lot more and the time seemed to pass a lot quicker. I don't warm up to people incredibly fast... especially old people, and especially people who act like, they got it all goin' on. That is what surrounded me at "Rich's-Macy*s" (I wish they would just call it friggin' Rich's until they make the final switch... geez). A lot of the older people there were just like me--people who didn't work at... RICH'S... just hired help for inventory. But because they are OLD and have been around the sun a few more times than even the people in charge, they tell everyone what to do. Ol' biddies and coots! So annoying! This one man next to me was trying to tell the manager what to do... THE MANAGER! The next time someone tells me to mind my elders, I'm gonna need my elders to mind people who are MORE QUALIFIED.

Anyway, I don't just dislike old people. After I got done on one side of housewares, I started counting behind people on the other side. This 21 year old guy told me to partner up with him because he worked so fast... Well you know why he worked so fast? 'Cause he was doing it the COMPLETELY WRONG WAY! They showed us a video that said if you have 5 of the same thing, DO NOT scan one thing 5 times, but scan each thing individually. Well, this genius was doing EXACTLY what the video said not to do. So yes, he was making haste with his inventory. To make matters worse, he was trying to hit on this 40 year old British Indian woman. Seriously. Okay, she didn't look like she was 40, but she told him that she was. He was all intrigued with her accent and she was like, "I'm from Britain." Then this guy goes, "Well, you look Indian." YOU CAN BE INDIAN AND BE FROM BRITAIN, EINSTEIN! UGH.

Thankfully, I was relieved from working with him... but I had to go back to textiles, with Candace, the stuck up troll. Since I was on the floor in textiles, I took advantage of a display bed while Candace ran around due to her own lack of comprehension. Apparently, she didn't prep for the day, so people were coming to work in her department from getting done in housewares, and she had nothing for them to do. I was one of them. So, I sat my happy behind on that Tommy Hilfiger bed and proceeded to earn $2 for those 20 minutes I sat there. Finally, she put me to work. I ended up working as a counter for this girl... I feel so bad, 'cause I don't know her name at all, and we spent like 2 hours together. She was really funny... and we got a lot of work done and passed a lot of time. We kept making comments about the ridiculously overpriced pillows and bedspreads that we were counting up. I also helped out this older woman whose earlier counter had screwed up. She kept talking about the girl and how stupid of a mistake she made. The lady was really nice to me. She told me all about how inventory was her only means of money since she had gotten laid off. She asked me how long I had been without work and I told her I was in college. She said she was "so proud" of me. And then she said something I will ALWAYS remember: "This job makes you wanna work hard in school doesn't it?" AMEN, SISTA! That is my whole problem with this job...

First of all, I don't enjoy it. I would NEVER work a job that I don't enjoy. What is the point of doing something day in and day out when you don't like it. REGARDLESS of how much money you need/want. You are doing yourself a huge injustice by staying in an occupation you don't enjoy... which is WHY people go to college and major in the area that they WANT to work in.

Secondly, you don't need any sort of education to do this job. I know there are some people who don't have an education. Either they couldn't get a good one, or they messed up somewhere on their own. Then a job like that is fine for people like that. I am not one of those people. I am not going to work in a job like retail, when I have the education to work in a job that I have recieved an education for.

Thirdly, it's people like Candace who make me not want to work in a job like that. Those people... who act like they are big and bad and know everything, talk down to other people, micromanage, and do not contribute to a healthy work environment... AND THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE ALL THEIR ISH TOGETHER! Candace... ooh. I couldn't work with her constantly... I'd make her cry.

ANYWAY. That is the horror known as inventory at "Rich's-Macy*s." I HATE IT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT. AND I WILL NEVER EVER EVER DO IT AGAIN... except tomorrow. :(

that first nap of the day...

...let's just say I was asleep from the time I finished that entry to 6 pm. I'm telling you, the life of a hermit is not fun in the least. But, I guess I should appreciate it while I have it. I woke up to my mom welcoming me into the land of the living and saying, "Well, I guess you'll be up all night! Why don't you paint your room while you are at home?" Thank you, mother, for giving me the go ahead to paint my room now that I have no more free time this break.

She and my dad are on this HUGE renovating campaign. It started with Centex repairing what they screwed up when they built the house 8 years ago... then they just got new hardwood floors. Thursday, we are getting the foyer and family room painted COLORS... not just white. It's going to be dramatic.

My mom has me SO involved in this. I guess it's... nice... but honestly, the color of our house doesn't mean much to me anymore. I'm more concerned with the color of MY house... whenever that will come. I'm ready for it.

My mom asked me that today... if I am ready to be an adult... SSHHHYEEEAH! I am MORE than ready for responsibility and being grown... being responsible for myself and when people see me they will be like, "That is Hamilton," not "That is Toney's son." I HATE THAT. Seriously, I hate that more than anyone will know. Well, Jenee probably understands, seeing how her dad is an idol to Clemson football fans everywhere. It's kinda like all my life, I have lived in the shadow of my dad. He's well known and well respected, which is great and all, but i want to be known for me.

That's why I pride myself in the things I have accomplished... like all my titles and awards in high school... being a drum major at Clemson. It's nice to be known for your own good qualities, not those of the people you are associated with. I could never say that to my dad because it would seem like some sort of slap in the face to him... like, I don't want to be associated with him. But not really... I just don't want to have to hang on to his coattails, that's all. I can hold my own...

...And this is why I am not looking forward to work this week. My dad used to work at Rich's. unfortunately, he hasn't been gone long enough for other people to leave and there be completely new employees there. As soon as I walked in the door, "My, you have grown up a lot!" WELL, HELL! Do they expect me to be 12 for the rest of my life? Ugh.

Believe it or not, I'm feeling tired again... maybe I'm not really tired. It's just that I have nothing else to write and the good TV doesn't come on for another hour. Nap time, part deux?

king congruence lite!

After that confusing entry about anti-resolutions last night, I decided I couldn't let my orgy-tainted apartment or my lack of new years spirit get in the way of commemorating the end of 2004 and the beginning of 2005... so, I changed the template of my blog.

Yeah, it's nice. The only thing is that there is nowhere for Smouse to leave comments. I really look forward to what good ol' Smousy-poo has to say. So, I think I'll put a link to my e-mail over in the links... Smouse, that is expecially for you!

By the way, Smouse, I have this new device on my blog that checks the IP address of everyone that visits, so I know where you live... I think. Just throw me a frikkin' bone here and give me at least a hint of who you are. It's driving me INSANE.

Okay, actually, it wasn't bugging me until you popped back up with that Happy New Years comment you left me. You had been MIA for a while. But I'm glad you're back.

In other news, rent is due today, and I am not in Clemson. Yay. It is also Patrick's 21st birthday (DOWNTOWN IS GOING TO BE SO MUCH FUN NOW)! Today is my last full day of freedom as I have training for inventory tomorrow. Big boo.

I suppose it's time for the first nap of the day...

prollems

I'm having prollems tonight. Yes--prollems. They are worse than just problems. However, things are looking up... two episodes of Roseanne are coming on.

Anyway, the beginning of another year has come, and while it's commencement was marred with he sight of my atrocious apartment, I still can't help but be a little cynical about these first few days of the year. Everyone always make resolutions as to what they are or are not going to do for the year. By Martin Luther King, Jr. day, everyone messes up--it's a long weekend, so there's reason to eat lots and have a wild weekend getting drunk. Then by Valentines Day, people are having crazy go nuts sex again, so seriously, what's the point in making a resolution?

Making resolutions is pretty cliche for me. I mean, it doesn't even have to be the beginning of a year for me to make some proclamation for what I am not going to do but then end up doing within a matter of days. So, my "resolution" is not to make one... no. I'm not going to resolve not to make a resolution, 'cause that would just be defeating the purpose of not making one. Dammit, I'm just not going to do anything. Or is that a resolution in it self as well?

Oh, forget it. What I'm trying to say is that there is no reason to promulgate what I am going to be or not be. Even for the Ham Rules... forget those. I haven't even referred to them in a long time... what's the point? What I have found out is that binding myself to a set of rules is stupid. I have been so-called doing that for the past 2 years and it hasn't gotten me anywhere. If anything, I have set myself up for an outcome that isn't coming.

I really don't know what I am trying to say. Like I said, I am having prollems tonight. these prollems go far beyond things like my dirty roommate, or having to work this week. These are issues that I'm sure will not be resolved by the end of this week either. I guess that's why they suck so much... there is no resolution in sight.

And maybe that's why people resolve to do things for the new year. They are attempting to resolve something on their own that they in essence cannot really do (okay, I am finally getting somewhere now). History has proven that there are some things that they just can't really handle... so at the beginning of the year (when people think that for some reason they have a clean slate), they say, "Not this year... Things are going to be different, this year." Hmmm... I'm not quite that gullible to believe it. Some things are the way they are because that is they way they are meant to be. Yes, it's a possibility that someone is meant to be an alcoholic. It's a possibility that someone is meant to make failing grades. It is a possibility that someone's marriage is not supposed to last. There are reasons for all of these seemingly terrible things. That alcoholic may have a child who witnesses their behavior and vows to never drink and live a completely sober and alcohol-free life. That person with failing grades might have to become an enterpreneur and make his own living, which eventually builds into a huge multi-million dollar corporation. That individual that gets a divorce might end up in a better, more healthy relationship with an individual they truly belong with.

So I guess there are reasons for the prollems we have in our lives. And maybe there really is no reason to try to resolve them. Maybe our prollems are roadblocks that make us stronger, or little illnesses that have to run their course. You can't go around the roadblock, but through it... and you can't just take medicine to get rid of the illness, but you have to cough and sneeze a little bit...

All that being said, they still suck pretty bad.

filthy

Happy New Year.

Now that that is out of the way, it's time for some serious bitching. First of all, lemme pose this question... If 4 people live in an apartment, but each person has their own room, then doesn't that mean that while the individual rooms can be fit to the individual occupant's liking, the common area that everyone shares must be suitable and confortable for everyone?

The answer is yes. Whether you agree to it or not. The bedroom is one's personal space--fit for doing any and everything that the person who sleeps there wants to do. If they want to keep it dirty, that is their perogative. If they want to keep it clean, that is their perogative. You will never hear me complain about how dirty someone's room is other than my own. That is their business.

But when my (as well as others') bathroom, kitchen, and living room is trashed by one person, then it's my business... someone else's shit, but my business.

Let me tell you how my apartment looked on the last day of the year 2004: I walk into my apartment already worried... One the phone while I have been at home, Jenee asked me several times if I had been back to the apartment or if Nick had. I kept saying no and kept asking her why she was asking. She kept saying, "Just wondering." Then there was also the fact that it was a college apartment complex and most college students go home for the holidays, so I was thinking that maybe a burglary could have happened. Oh no... It wasn't that. Neither my own twisted mind nor Jenee's questioning could have prepared me for what I saw there in my apartment...

Now remember, when I left, I made sure everything was neat and in its place. Nick even came to clean out all of the perishable stuff from the refrigerator. We both secured things and turned fans and the heat off.

Well, sometime between then and last night, someone had been back at the apartment and just doing things in a completely self centered and inconsiderate way... as if he were the only person (or he and his friends were the only PEOPLE) living at the apartment. The futon (which was broken and couldn't really go all the way flat) was laid out in the DEAD CENTER of the living room. It was turned so it met up with the sofa... so it looked as if someone was trying to make a huge king sized bed type thing. Patrick's sheet was off of it and thrown on the floor (thankfully, 'cause it looked like dirty things were done in that make shift king sized bed). Patrick's blanket was not so lucky. It was in a mess of dirty sheets on the futon. This futon was not made, mind you--the sheets were just sitting on it sloppily... like someone had SLOPPILY rolled around in them. Anyway, there were clothes strewn all over the place. In one corner, shirts... in another, socks... in another, A BRA. WTF? Our high table and stools were pushed way up against a corner and all over the table were sheets and packets of black feathers. Most of the packets were empty--cause the feathers were just lying all over the place. There were also pencils and glue. It looked as if someone was trying to make a drag costume (I mean there was already a bra on the floor). Then, in the kitchen, there were dishes in the sink... and not just a few dishes. There were at least like 5 cups in there... WHO ALL HAD BEEN HANGING OUT IN THE APARTMENT? AND WHY DID ONE OF THOSE BITCHES LEAVE HER DAMN BRA?

Over in the bathroom area (the one that I share, not Patrick and Nick's--lucky them), my side of the counter and my sink were messy. I made sure that I cleaned MY sink and MY mirror before I left. I ended up cleaning the bathroom ALL SEMESTER LONG, so I wasn't going to clean the other side of the sink and mirror this time. When I did that, you shoulda seen it... it looked like a Windex or 409 commercial, where they show the before and after sides. My side was so clean and neat. And the other side had water spots and toothpaste and smudges all over the mirror... Well, when I came back yesterday, I had water spots and toothpaste and smudges all over MY mirror! Someone had been using my sink! It just made me feel for those poor 3 bears when that Goldilocks ho came into their house. The toilet (that I had cleaned just before leaving for the holidays--and that I had cleaned in November... and October... and September) had junk in it. Not even the decency to flush the damn toilet!

I have no idea what the hell happened in that apartment. All I know is when I walked in, followed by Missy and Kiki, I was so thoroughly embarrassed. We immediately got to work on a cleaning campaign that included returning the furniture to the correct spots, discarding all the sketchy and random clothing/drag materials/underwear to the perptrator's room, washing the dishes, wiping down MY SIDE of the sink area in the bathroom, and washing Patrick's poor blanket... 'cause people were supposed to be coming over to help ring in the new year within the half hour.

So once again, I pose the question: If 4 people live in an apartment, but each person has their own room, then doesn't that mean that while the individual rooms can be fit to the individual occupant's liking, the common area that everyone shares must be suitable and confortable for everyone? EVEN IF IT IS WINTER BREAK, ALL THE ROOMMATES HAVE KEYS, AND TWO OF WHICH LIVE IN VERY CLOSE PROXIMITY?

There is no excuse for the mess that was 101-A last night. But frankly, I wasn't incredibly surprised. Like I said, I have been the cleaner of the bathroom for the past semester, and Patrick, Nick, and I have been the cleaners of pretty much ALL the dishes all semester. I guess the thing that took me aback the most was the sketchiness of it all... it seriously looked like kinky feather sex had been had in our living room.