Some more moist blogs

Moist blogging, April 22, 2006 12:23pm

Rick was amazing as ever the other night, funny, loving, a joy to be around. Malow was there, too. I should have known that he was going to be there but I didn't think of it. He told he joke about being an astronomer on the day shift; "What is that, a cloud? Can I name it? Rynn." Made me feel even more special than I did already. Malow's that way, he always incorporates me into a joke if possible.

There was a super drunk chick in the front row who wouldn't shut up, and kept doing the hand sign for devil, it was embarrassing. When Malow got on stage he said, "Ma'am," four times and then said, "Listen, bitch." And it made her cry. Finally the bitch and her date were asked to leave. After the show Brian was standing by the door saying, "I'm sorry if I made you cry," to every woman as they left. It was very funny. There was even a batchlorette party in the back that was better behaved than the drunk chick down front.

Last night I caught my room mate taking a leak off the side of the patio. There's a WC, or half bath if you prefer, right off the living room. What the hell was he doing taking a piss out there? Does that strike anyone else as beyond white trash? He didn't see me so I backed up and re-entered the room talking loudly. He acted like there was nothing going on, so I let it drop - I don't know him well enough to confront him about "marking his territory."

I do have to say that he did come up, knock on my door and invited me down to the living room to smoke me out. I sat in the living room and he tried to explain everything about poker and golf while I quietly tried to make him stop. He just kept talking and talking and played some Black Sabbath trying to make me understand who he was and why there the video games he played were to teach him to become a better poker dealer and golfer. I tried to make jokes but he was intent on making sure I understood that it wasn't anything to joke about.

He has a video golf game and I asked what would happen if he hit the ball into the trees - I wanted to know how far the code writers had written off to the sides - he couldn't understand why I would want to screw up my score so badly just to find out - I couldn't understand why he wasn't curious. I used to do stuff like that when I played those old driving video games; how far off the road could I drive? What would happen if I just didn't leave the start of the race or stop in the middle. I even did that with an exercise bike that had video display - can I leave the trail, and if so could I just coast down a grassy hill and not pedal?

I don't know how this is going to work out; he tossed a CD at me last night, it didn't hit me but if it had it would have drawn blood. He said that he wasn't thinking and apologized but it seems to me, that if your gut reaction to showing someone a CD is to fling it at them across the room then you might have some issues.

I was tired anyway but the weed really knocked me for a loop so I came up stairs, locked my door, and went to sleep. He wanted to me to see Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, but I couldn't do it, he pouted about it, like he couldn't watch it if I wasn't there. I think I'm going to get a lock for my door, better than the one I have now. I'm also wondering if I might keep some of the boxes I emptied just in case I have to leave in a hurry.

I don't see how I can live here for very long, I've been here a week and I just want him to go out and not be here. I'm so not a good room mate. I'm so selfish about my privacy, I don't want to be part of a community, where there are house meetings and chore wheels, I want to be left alone.

I should be putting the rest of my stuff away rather than bitching about the fact that I have a place to live.


Moist Blogging April 28, 06

I lived in downtown San Francisco for about 20 years and I haven't seen as much drama in those years as I have in the two weeks since moving to this townhouse complex. There was a fist fight in the parking lot (it was out of sight around the garage but the indistinct shouts and sudden silences was worse than actually seeing it,) two visits to the next door neighbors from the Concord Police, my phone line, (which is active from the street, but not within the complex,) won't be active inside until Monday, and I realized last night that one of the many scraps of paper held in place on the refrigerator by one of the multiple magnates from the same pizza delivery place is an extensive AA meeting list put there by my "at the least a six pack a night" roommate.

I'm free floating, here. Every time I leave my room I feel like I'm entering a forbidden zone; like I have to tread softly. I'm so used to living alone having a roommate is like having a jailer. I feel guilty for turning on the air conditioning when my room is like an oven. My things are pushed aside and put in the bottom of inconvenient cabinets, when I ask for something to be left where it is, I come back to find it has been put on a high shelf, out of my reach. I don't know how to communicate any better than that. I just want some respect, but it's hard to know how to ask for it when I'm being laughed at and treated like a "dumb girl." Maybe it's the attitude of the place, I get the idea that this is a red neck town. There's only one bus that runs on this street, on Saturdays it runs about every 2 hours and it doesn't run on Sundays.

"Have a car or walk your ass," the city of Concord seems to be saying.

I still have unpacking to do, which I should be doing now instead of bitching and moaning on a blog entry that I can't even post.

Shit.