2002-11-26

Things at Casa Robin have taken an interesting turn. My roommate/sister and her boyfriend had a huge fight yesterday and broke up, causing Boyfriend to pack up his things and flee the scene. Boyfriend and I have been at loggerheads for some time (according to my sister, he says I'm "antisocial," which I'm fairly positive is a euphemism for "a complete fucking bitch"); and as much as I won't miss the soothing musical stylings of Snoop Dogg wafting through the apartment in the wee hours and the frat-house-style Mountain O' Empties in the kitchen, his abrupt departure does leave me in a bit of a bind. Specifically, I have to come up with an extra couple hundred bucks for rent - my sister is temporarily (I hope) unemployed, and can't afford to cover Boyfriend's share. Boyfriend and Sister were planning to move out on their own in a few months anyway - I don't seem to deal well with other human beings in my living space, go figure - but I wasn't anticipating having to cough up the extra rent quite so soon. Combine that with the usual ridiculous Christmas expenses, and the fact that I've planned to go to Toronto in a few weeks to visit my best friend (Hi, Best Friend!), and it looks like I'll be doing my laundry in the bathtub for the next month and surviving on carpet lint and happy thoughts. So be sure and send me lots of that last item, because I'm running a bit short (although the thought of my stereo never again being defiled by the likes of Nickleback does make me all warm and fuzzy inside). I could dip into my travel fund to cover these extra expenses, but, yeah, that's not going to happen. A girl's got to have priorities. At least I'll be fashionably Biafran when I make my way to the UK.

Along with happy thoughts, I am currently graciously accepting any spare food stamps, beer vouchers, and, um, muscular Swedish Nationals my beloved readers may have lying around (what?). E-mail me and I'll tell you where to post them.