The shower is in use.
Roommate. His girlfriend. The shower has been in use for approximately the past hour.
An AIM conversation on the subject:
AzureLunatic: my shower has been invaded by the ravening pillaging hordes, so I'm sitting around saying "eeeh?" and looking dubiously at a mostly full bottle of peppermint schnapps.
kenshinnobaka: invaded by what?
AzureLunatic: my new roommate and his girlfriend.
kenshinnobaka: Ah, lol
kenshinnobaka: Just drink with moderation. Only one bottle an hour.
AzureLunatic: are you kidding? this one small bottle would put me on the floor if I drank one in a *day*!!!
kenshinnobaka: ah, can't hold your licur?
AzureLunatic: One bottle of beer gets me making passes at people that I should never in my right mind make passes at.
AzureLunatic: Not beer goggles per se, but ... beer brains.
kenshinnobaka: lol lol lol lol roflmao
AzureLunatic: I still know what they look like ... the fact that I'm as good as taken becomes suddenly less relevant.
kenshinnobaka: ah, okies
AzureLunatic: gawwwd, it tastes like mouthwash, only sweeter and better.
AzureLunatic: I happen to like peppermint schnapps.
AzureLunatic: hmm, I wonder what would happen if you added Mountain Dew.
kenshinnobaka: (are you male or female)
AzureLunatic: of course.
kenshinnobaka: ok, just a little braincramp
kenshinnobaka: now be a good little girl and drink it all down
kenshinnobaka: just wanted to word that statement corectly
AzureLunatic: drink what all down?
kenshinnobaka: the peppermint schnapps
AzureLunatic: you want me to have to barge into the room with the shower therein to blow chunks?
AzureLunatic: disrupting whatever happy games may have been going on within those confines?
AzureLunatic: I think not, my dear friend.
kenshinnobaka: now that would be priceless
kenshinnobaka: I'd want the video of that. lol
And the random thumping from the shower, audible over the water, continues... Sis and I giggle every time an especially loud noise is made.
No more commentage needed. Roommate emerges, semi-dressed. His gf still lurks within. We pretend there is nothing unusual going on... as nothing out of the ordinary is.
I'm on AIM and I'm slightly tipsy! Come watch, say hi to me, and watch me fall on my nose into the hot lava!
apparently I am not to put candy bars in the freezer. Sis was ticked.
But, chocolate ice cream with peppermint schnapps on top is good.
Hee hee. I love chocolate, I lvove pepepermient, i love sugar.
Drunk is just a frickn' bonus. hee hee.
I got hauled out into the living room, where I was informed without much preamble that Jack Lemon was dead. "Who?" I said, and kept repeating this phrase for the next three levels of clarifications. Dude got up from the couch and spanked me for not knowing this important bit of culture.
Who the fuck is Jack Lemon?
Sis made coffee cake. She dropped her plate, and the cake went spilling all over the couch and floor, causing her to curse. She picked up all the cake and threw it out (boo-hoo) but could not locate her utensil. "Where'd my fork go?" she wondered, then remembered that we'd been out of forks.
"There is no spoon!" she and I chorused at the same time, and cracked up.
Roommate popped out of the computer room with those cartoon question marks over his head.
Later, he sat back on the couch and found where I'd left my sword. Sis was irresistibly reminded of Yellowbeard ("He fell on it, I swear!") and cracked up.
Had a bit of a conflict today. Ended with me stomping off to my room and slamming the door. It was over writing. I get all hyped up over little bits of my writing that I have to get just perfect every here and there. Unfortunately, these little bits are usually the funny bits in a mostly serious piece, and Sis gets ticked when she thinks I'm treating a serious subject lightly.
The thing is, I don't have the world experience to write deep soul-searching articles about the Really Deep Shit like she does. I don't have the experience with anything but the shallow stuff. So I'm writing a mostly serious and very helpful article about the shallow crap, and she steams at me for treating the subject lightly, and I steam back that this is what I know, and if I tried to write deep articles about Deep Stuff then I'd look worse on paper than Silver Ravenwolf. (General apologies to anyone who likes her writing -- your taste in literature is your own business. Her writing is just not read in our house, except for fun, to make commentary and technical corrections. I'm sure she's a nice person; she just doesn't really make herself clear on paper.) I ended up stomping into my room and slamming the door.
I've been on edge these last two or three days. Usually I'd just sigh and give it up. Today I felt like making an issue out of it. And just now I got bonked on the shoulder with a duct-tape weapon and jumped upon he who did it, unfairly using my performance-trained lungs. Don't touch me when I don't see you and my ears are covered, especially while I'm writing, unless you're one specific person, that person being either Darkside, or Darkside's good alter ego Best Friend the Gentleman.
...is basically what I'm living. We have the frat house kid, even: nephew. The cat, the fish, the beer bottles...
...well, not too many beer bottles. What bottles we do collect are promptly used as candle holders, as we have more candles than we do beer bottles. And we've got computers, and a cat, and lots of candles, and someone who cooks, and someone who cleans, and someone who baby sits...
It's going to be a hell of a lot of fun.
Well, Sis took me to Castle Boutique today. For those who don't know, that is a chain of "adult novelty" shops that exist in the general Arizona area.
I've been in shops of the like before, but this one struck me as the Wal*Mart of sex shops, only without the blue-vested employees prowling the aisles. Sis said that this one is a small one.
I looked over the selection and was not particularly impressed. The shop I had been in back home in Alaska had possessed a better stock of, um, *stuff*. I wasn't impressed, in fact, until I saw the sticker, you know the oval type with a couple letters that are supposed to signify something important? You stick them on cars and stuff. Well, this one said "AZ" with the little rectangular-blocks rainbow below that.
Azz is my nickname, and it was my nickname before I even dreamed of moving to Arizona.
It was just perfect.
Unfortunately, they don't take checks, and my handful of change was too small to make any difference.
Ah well, someday.
I'm catching up on some online stuff and just sitting here at the computer in the peace of the quiet house. Dude is out with his girlfriend. Sis and nephew are asleep, and I assume Shammash might be as well.
I'm sitting here with old good music, the stickiest commercial candy known to mankind, and The Cat Who Walks Through Walls, seeing what's up in the world outside my four walls.
It's a beautiful night and the moon is nearing full. I'm not apprehensive, somehow, though I know I probably should be by all rights.
Since when is getting to know yourself better something that should be scary?
I am officially Kicked Out of the House tomorrow. I'm working a double shift at work, so this should be no problem to comply with. Sis's boyfriend, he who I have not yet met, is visiting. She's been in a tizzy all night, cleaning everything extra and getting everything else *just perfect*.
I've never seen this side of the "intent to seduce" bit of her personality. I know she borrowed my daisy dress the last time she went and visited him, and I had to spend about two hours helping her with her hair and makeup and everything, but ... oy.
Yeah, I'm glad I'm going to be out of the house. This doesn't look like something I need to see... or hear...
I did tell y'all about what happened with these sleazes, right?
So I ordered DSL on the fucking 14th, with their promise that I'd have the modem in my mailbox on the 27th.
I call on the 28th, and it turns out that it was never ordered for me in the first place, so I have to go through the rigamarole again, this time with much less grace, which got me the direct-dial number of the guy who placed the order for me this time, and the instructions to call him back, directly, should I have any more issues.
I hope not.
So I'll be getting my DSL modem on Friday the 13th, gods help us all.