Psychotic Roommate

I know I've talked (complained, ranted, whatever...) to a few people about my psychotic roommate. But I promise, he really is nutso. To recap the highlights of my last year of living with him, here's a condensed version of the events:

• refusal to pay bills to the point I threatened to shut off electricity (and would have if the other roommate didn't step in and take it over);
• demanding immediate payment on his bills or he would "take further measures" (I waited 2 weeks to pay him once.)
• advising my other roommate and I to call the cable company ourselves to add more lines to his bill when he didn't want to put cable anywhere but his room and the living room (umm, what company would say "sure, i can add that to someone else's account!"?)
• eating my sole package of broccolli and cheese, denying it, then asking where he could buy more to replace it (if he had bought it in the first place, wouldn't you think he'd know where to find more?!)
• hiding the phone for the household phone line
• drinking all my wine the day after I opened the last bottle I had (nope, no replacement either!)

Here's the fun one, though! My roommate told me this, but it absolutely without a doubt paints the third roommate to a T:

M (the good roommate) comes downstairs to make waffles for herself one morning. She takes them from the freezer, pops them in the toaster oven, then decides to go back upstairs while they're cooking to get dressed. M comes back down 10 minutes later to find her waffles missing from the toaster. Knowing that only C (the psycho rooommate) is in town for the weekend, she goes to his bedroom door and knocks. C opens the door with his mouth full of waffles and asks what's up. M asks him if he ate her waffles. HE DENIES IT! M calls him out on it and asks him to replace them...

But what on earth!?!? Who takes someone else's food that they're cooking?!! He is deranged and completely inconsiderate!!!

I can't wait to get rid him from my life.

I'm an old broad already?!

I’m on a plane last weekend, sitting nicely in first class, thanks to upgrades the wonderful boy gave me, waiting for take off. In fabulous first-class-land, they offer you drinks before you take off, and I quickly accepted the offer, requesting a jack and coke. Although I would prefer them to carry Crown, I think I probably would sound very pompous if I made a fuss about it, so I’ll leave it at that. I digress…
So I request my jack and coke, and am ID’d. First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever been ID’d on a plane before. Not even when I was 20 (looking 12)! I pass over my ID, she checks it out, bends it a little looking for the hologram and whatnot, sees the date, and says, “Wow! You’re an old broad!”

I AM NOT KIDDING.
I’m not even 30 yet!!!! Since when does this qualify me as an “old broad”? No wonder women have issues when they turn 30!

A Baseball God touched me...

i.
met.
MANNY!

You remember that teenager feeling... The butterflies in the tummy. The inability to not ramble. The way your tongue felt like it was 200 times its normal size. I felt that. Manny Ramirez, the beloved Red Sox player, was on my flight. He's beautiful. He's not as big as he looks. He touched my arm. How giddy do I look?!

And I got a picture and 2 (count 'em) autographs!!!

A Rather Unseemly Habit

Its been a while since I've written anything down. I've had a lot roaming around in my head, and unfortunately, it is of the stuff that shant be written about in such a public forum. So I'm skipping all the good stuff (sorry!).

I learned to play golf this weekend. That's an exaggeration. That I learned to hit a golf ball harder than what is standard at mini-golf is a more accurate statement. Very exciting! My father will be very pleased with my attempt (though if I ever chose to show him my skills in person, I think I'd get laughed at!). My mother... well, my mother never got my dad's love of golf. She'll think I've gained a rather unseemly habit at best. Which is exactly why I only told my dad! I wish I had pictures of me in my Connecticut gear - slacks and polo shirt (I was totally missing the sun visor).

Does Hypnosis Work?

Memories should fade more effectively. Maybe I'm a forgetful person here and there, but its the stuff I want to forget that never seems to go away and can haunt indefinitely. If hypnotism worked on me, I think I'd be interested in figuring out how to filter out the good stuff for remembering.

I was so proud...

Work has sent me out traveling for a bit and I have to admit, I was more than a little proud of my brilliant packing abilities the night before I left New York. See, I was able to get over 2 weeks worth of clothes, spanning at least 3 different climates, packed into the nice 21-inch roll-aboard/carry-on suitcase I use, my only other bag being my laptop case since my little purse fit nicely inside one or the other. I was determined to both not be that American that carries around 2 million tons for a 3 day vacation, and also to be able to avoid waiting for luggage to come around the carousels by carrying it on board with me. (The UK now has a 2-bag carry-on allowance, recently changed from 1). I was sooo proud to accomplish this, I even took a picture of my 2 bags!

It worked fantastically out of NYC and into London last night. I even had a nice non-economy seat with a footrest. Pleased with my flight and my packing...

Then I got to the airport this morning in London to leave for Barcelona. Ugh! They wouldn't let me carry on my roll-aboard! Granted, the flight was short (2 hours), and the luggage was promt on the carousel, and my bag even one of the first ones out... but not exactly my plan. I'm disappointed now. I'm expecting to have to look forward to the same situation on my way back, and I don't even have a non-economy seat to console me. :(

Poor me! ;-)

And.... I'm out...

Once again, I was idiot enough to make a silly bet on my team. There are some that would kill me for this - but I did. I was feeling confident. Not cocky, just confident! Who would have even dared to put their bets on the Giants?! A comfortable 12.5 point spread. An undefeated season for the Pats. Brady. Moss. Welker. Stallworth. Faulk. ...Bellichick!

Ugh. But I did. Not money... just my pride. I'm to be forced to wear an Eli Manning jersey to my favorite Boston bar for an entire evening. Oy! Please do NOT mock me for this! I'm already feeling enough pain on my own.

Let's not discuss this further. I'm just glad I was fortunate enough to be out of town for the blasted parade in NYC.