Open Thread

Midweek Musical Open Thread: Filthy Puppet Edition

Hey ladies, we’re hanging out on Avenue Q tonight. Pull up a chair and tell us how your week’s going. After all, what else is the Internet for if not kvetching? Oh, right”¦

By [E] Hillary

Hillary is a giant nerd and former Mathlete. She once read large swaths of "Why Evolution is True" and a geology book aloud to her infant daughter, in the hopes of a) instilling a love of science in her from a very young age and b) boring her to sleep. After escaping the wilds of Waco, Texas and spending the next decade in NYC, she currently lives in upstate New York, where she misses being able to get decent pizza and Chinese takeout delivered to her house. She lost on Jeopardy.

36 replies on “Midweek Musical Open Thread: Filthy Puppet Edition”

Having lived with a legitimate sociopath and a super passive aggressive Christ-y person (at the same time!), I feel your pain. I hate having 65% of my monthly income go to my rent but it’s worth it to live alone. Although money has been nearly non existent lately, so I can also feel your pain about the eeeeeep-ness.

Well, one of the roommates is lovely. Seriously. She’s the best.

The other is both confrontational and passive-aggressive, moved her boyfriend in (which is both a lease violation AND a good roommate violation), gets pissed if people use HER things that are in common areas, gets mad if anyone washes her dishes that have been in the sink for days, etc etc.

I would *love* to able to live alone, but I seriously can’t afford to. I can barely manage my rent as it is (much less buying groceries). Lovely Roomie and I are both trying to make the best of the situation, but Horrid Roomie…well.

The sociopath I lived ate ONLY couscous and hummus/salsa and would leave a giant pot of couscous sitting in the stove for days. Several times she fell asleep without turning the burner off. When confronted, she actually said she didn’t think it was a big deal because we (myself and the other girl) didn’t take out the trash enough.
She told the third roommate that she didn’t see the big deal if she ate our food (without replacing it) because “it’s only food and you’re being the biggest bitch in the universe about it”.
She would act like she had discovered the cure for cancer if she unloaded the dishwasher once every three months.
She would hoard all of the plates in her room until there was none left to use and we would have to go into her room, collect a weeks worth of dirty plates, and clean them if we wanted to use them. She started stealing the magazines that I subscribed to.
She put out mice poison despite myself and the 3rd roomie asking her not to, as we both had cats.
She eventually started dating one of the basketball coaches at the college we were all attending and would bring him over to have oddly noiseless sexy times. She was also possibly on steroids (she was on the crew team).

This went on for two years. It was such a toxic environment. Of course it was the midst of a pretty bad bout of depression so I was just completely miserable and terrified to leave our apartment lest she burn the place down with my cats inside. I had actually forgotten about half of the things I listed until right now and I have no idea how I survived living there.

Yikes. Yeah, it’s amazing how much a terrible roommate can make your life miserable, isn’t it? (I’ve been fighting off The Cranky at work all week because I’ve been tired and stressed out about the roommate situation.) I want it to be done, I want to pick the next person that I live with rather than it being a random match, and I want my apartment to be PEACEFUL.

Today’s event: Lovely roommate has the internet account. She always, always pays on time. I came home to no internet signal, because (even though she paid, and her account showed a zero balance) the provider decided to not notice that payment. I sent Lovely roommate a text when I noticed, ate dinner, and watched a few episodes of Buffy. I figured it was the provider being stupid again (seriously, they’ve done this twice before, plus we had a router die a month after the service began, and the service didn’t begin for three weeks AFTER we moved in even though they told her it would). She got home, asked me to bring up the page I saw when I got home (so she’d know what to tell them), and took her things to her room. She didn’t even get her door unlocked before Horrid roommate burst out, ranting about the internet being down and not letting her get more than two words out in explanation. Then she storms out, ranting on her phone, and comes back surly — at which point the internet is fixed, Lovely roommate is making her dinner, and she and I are chatting. Horrid roommate pushes past us, tosses her part of the internet payment on the counter (a week late), and slams her door. And it’s just Thursday. Nothing special or dramatic happened.

Speaking of puppets.

If any of y’all are going to be in Atlanta during the month of February (or close enough to visit!), the Center for Puppetry Arts is doing the Tales of Edgar Allen Poe. With creepy-ass puppets.

This is how I plan to spend my Valentine’s Day.

I managed to get back into Persephone this week! For some reason for the past month or so every time I tried to log in I would login then get reverted back to the home page, unlogged in :( Yesterday I realized it might be a cookie problem, so deleted them all. Low and behold: Success! Yay for being able to comment again. haha

My week is going ok. Nothing too out of the ordinary. I think I’ve settled on a tattoo design–still needs some tweaking and some input from a scholar–and I have plots to expand my last NaNoWriMo project into a trilogy. Other than that, things are quiet over here in the Emerald City.

It isn’t finalized yet as I still need to confer with an Old English expert, but you ought to be able to get the gist of it through the images. The text is taken from the gospel of John (chapter 1, verses 1 and 14) and is in Old English, based off a transcription I found from the Lindisfarne Gospels, which is an absolutely gorgeous illuminuted text from c. 900AD/CE.

At first, I was thinking of getting the verses tattooed in the original Greek, but then rethought it because I’m not a biblical scholar or a Greek aficionado, but I AM an English nerd. ;) The reason I chose these verses is because in English, they read, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. […] The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” I like the wordplay in the verses, especially how they relate to language. Since language and communication is important to me, these verses are a very meaningful way for me to embrace my faith and my passions.

The images I attached are those verses in Old English in a font based off of the first scribal hand for Beowulf, and the second is the opening page of John in the Lindisfarne manuscript. I want to use the “o” in “Johannes” as the first letter in the tattoo so it looks more like an old manuscript. However, I still need to double check spelling and diacritical marks, etc., with a former prof (my Old English expert) before I permanently ink anything.

This is probably way more info than you wanted about it, but I’m really excited about this design! :)

I want it on my foot, but my first tattoo is also there, so I want to make sure they won’t look weird together, and that the design won’t look odd when my foot is in different positions.
I haven’t heard anything bad about inner arms! The places I’ve been told hurt most are where there are a lot of nerve endings and not a lot of fat, so neck, hands, and feet.

You guys! I’m a Cheesemonger! (At least according to the P-Mag points system.) I’ve waited my whole life for this! Well, at least since I knew what a cheesemonger was.

Anyway, it’s negative ten billion degrees here, I haven’t been able to feel my toes all day, and I’m trying to figure out if hot cocoa will keep me awake. Caffeine never bothers me, but sugar sometimes does.

Interestingly enough, most swear words can be enhanced by adding “monger” to the end of them.
Example: “I can’t believe what a shitmonger that person was!”

It’s cold here too. Our heating is hella borked though so upstairs is sweltering, but downstairs is like an icemonger’s freezer.

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