Spinning Heads

In leiu of it being so long since my last entry, I decided today would be the perfect time to update my life blog. Well, lets see. I have moved, started a new job that I absolutely love, am experimenting with running, cooking up a storm and even catering a few events. I have also reverted back to one aspect of my college days...roommates. Now, keep in mind that I have lived in many different and even difficult arrangements that one may not picture me surviving in. Well, let me tell you; I can survive through the worst and come out on the better side even if it does include being punished for bringing boys upstairs, nearly killing a cat (RIP Jude), sleeping on an air mattress for 3 months, two summers in a row, and to put the cherry on top...a house full of 72 hormonally crazed, slightly catty and nearly neurotic sorority girls. God love 'em. I would tend to lump myself into a group of those elite who seem to keep their cool, see the good in what they have and when worst comes to worst, walk out of the room (...and bitch about it for weeks after to your best friend).

This brings us to my current story. After living by myself in a glorious 915 square foot second story apartment with my very own fireplace, balcony, kitchen and bathroom I have been thrust into a house with 2 boys. Ok, now don't you dare be thinking right now, "Oh, geez, what a baby she can't even live with boys?" I have lived with boys. Ohhhhh have I ever lived with boys. It couldn't get much worse than my brother's two friends who constantly nagged and irritated and teased me to no end while prancing around in their skivvies thinking they were making me extremely uncomfortable. Ha. If anyone should have been feeling awkward in that situation, it was them. Lord knows I may not have the perfect bod but you don't see me walking around in my delicates. 'Nuff said.

These particular boys are a slightly different story. It all started when I received a life changing phone call offering me the job of my dreams. And to move the next week. I had no place to live and not a moving truck in sight but I had heavenly karma and good luck on my side. My father has always told me that I lead a "charmed life". I like to think that everyone makes things happen for themself and I just happen to have made a lot of friends and some strong connections. Charm was on my side this time and some family friends' kids who happen to be right around my age just purchased a house and needed a 4th roommate. Perfect timing, right? Actually, yeah, it was perfect timing. I was in a pinch and needed a place to stay. They had a house equipped with my own bedroom, bathroom, living room, garage spot and even a pool in the back yard! What!! Too good to be true, right? Yep, you're right, definitely too good to be true.

So the last couple of months really haven't been that bad. Boys will be boys, I know that and I think that I have been an extremely awesome roommate. I do not bitch about their dirty friends who sleep on my counch. When I say dirty, I literally mean, dirty. Like he works in a dirty place and is covered with dirt and grease. And then he sleeps on my couch...without a sheet over it. I keep a spare bottle of Febreeze in my room for such special occasions. I clean up after them in the kitchen, cook them brownies and treats, pay all of my bills on time, take out the trash, amuse them by listening to their girl problems and stay out of their "man cave" upstairs. Did I mention that downstairs is the "girl cave" and is supposed to be reserved for myself and our girl roommate (whom I love dearly but she is gone for the summer, ahhh!!!). Well, yeah, it is. I know that my full size couch is more comfortable to sleep on than a halfie upstairs, but seriously, keep your dirty friends out of the clean girl zone. I may be coming off as a bit snooty and snobbish, but I really just like to be able to sit on a clean couch while enjoying some late night telly.

Fast forward to this morning. Monday...errrrrr. I was out of town for the weekend and wanted to extend my precious time off by driving home in the morning. I had to stop at home to change before heading to work and as I was driving into town I thought to myself, "Sarah, you can stick out living here for the rest of the summer. You can save up your pennies and dimes (since it is rather cost efficient) for that trip to Sweden you want to take in the spring. Sacrifices must be made." Then, I pulled into the garage. Smiled as I waltzed inside thinking of the Swedish adventure that awaited me and walked down to enter the girl cave. First thing I see: a case of beer sitting on my coffee table. Deep breath. Beer cans strewn on the window sill and next to the couch. Close my eyes. Enter my bedroom.

Holy Shit.

My bed has been knocked off of its risers. I cannot breathe. My lamp is knocked over. Fists clench. The bedside table is pushed against the wall. (it's called a bedside not a wallside for a reason) Bead of sweat drips down my forehead. My clothes are strewn around the room. Steam shoots out of my ears. Finally, the guilded framed picture of my best friends and I is knocked over. I catch my breath and release an unheard scream.

What.The.Fuck.

I'm pretty sure I blacked out and my head started spinning while I spewed green vomit in every direction. My head was a mess and I was fit to make my roommate's life a mess. Never have I been so angry, so fuming, so disrespected and so incredibly flabbergasted by the sheer stupidity of people. It was Monday morning for pete's sake. When did this happen? You would think that they at least would have attempted to clean this mess up!

I called my dear sweet mother and raged to ranted to her about my debacle. I have known for a while that I wanted to find a different living arrangement but this was seriously the last draw. I feel like I have been very patient, understanding and even a bit fun from time to time. Keeping in mind that some weeks I work over 75 hours, I would say I'm pretty laid back and let them have their fun without being their "mom". This was too much. I would rather live with those 72 hormonally enraged college girls again than stay in this place. To hell with the pool, to hell with the granite kitchen countertops and handy drawer cutting board (man I love that thing) I AM THREW! I AM OUTTA HERE! I AM FINISHED, KAPUT, ADIOS!!

Next week I start my search for an apartment. I actually started about 3 weeks ago (after hearing a tad more "intimate time" from one of the roommies than I cared for) and have a pretty good idea of where I want to go. Until then, I am staying the night at my Saint of a best friend's apartment until I cool down. I left a menacing note to the boys that they can stew on until I see them. I understand this is a passive agressive way to go about dealing with said situation, but I really just couldn't stand to be there another minute. Especially after thinking about what microorganisms could potentially be growing on my sheets.