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I'm pretty sure God is testing me...or maybe punishing me
There really is something about Paris in the springtime. Unfortunately, I'm so homesick at this point I would rather be back in Los Angeles stuck in traffic in a rainstorm (ha! rain in LA! hee!). Things wouldn't be so bad except for one little thing. One not-so-little person who is driving everyone else in the apartment absolutely batty. I've had, um, not great roommates in the past (and some fabulous roommates) but she unquestionably takes the cake. After three peaceful, noise free, stink free days while she was on vacation in the west of France within thirty minutes of her return she had me and the Poon hiding in our rooms with the doors shut and our earphones on. Why? you ask. Well, let me tell you. First there was the juice slurping. Not one accidental slurp in her overzealousness to quench her thirst, but a constant, repeated and LOUD "slurp, slurp, slurp" with every damn sip that she took. Shockingly the woman is 34 years old and not 3.4 years old. After she had finally finished slurping down two cups of juice she preceded to fill the entire apartment with the wretched stench of her fish and fried something or the other cooking. Nevermind that it was nearly midnight and the doors to the bedrooms were open. That's what led to cowering in the room with the doors shut. But you know what couldn't be blocked out by the paper thin doors? The singing. The off-key singing. The off-key singing of someone who clearly thinks their singing is not so bad and so they don't sing quietly to themselves but very much so out loud in such a way that they obviously think other people might want to hear them sing. That was not even what drove me and the Poon to earphones though, oh no, it gets better. The coup de grace? She paused in the middle of a song to talk to herself about how she was going to cook and then, and then, she SPELLED THE WORD COOKING. C-O-O-K-I-N-G. Thank you! You know, I almost forgot how it was spelled. But now I know. Now it will forever be committed to my memory. When I relayed this sad story to The Hubs he laughed and asked if she spells DUMP while on the toilet. Thankfully I'm not privy to that sort of information. (Although she has gotten in the habit of leaving the bathroom door open when she pees in the early mornings, ugh.) Labels: Annoyances, Homesick, Things that are gross
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