I left work early today. I was tired. Up all night. If you don't know why, see the previous two postings. At some point my back started hurting. I walk into my room to find my roommate smoking and watching Friends on his computer. I comment on the smoke, as we've discussed it before. Besides his having decided to quit because I was complaining and his girlfriend was complaining and his body was insufficiently strong enough to kick a certain bacterial infection in his lungs (Doc to roommate: "By any chance, are you a smoker?"), I have never allowed him to smoke in the room. Trust me, he has. Oh, and whenever he couldn't find an ash tray, he just used one of mine. Bear in mind, I don't smoke. But to my roommate, any concave thing I own suffices as an ash tray. After commenting on the smoke and opening the door and windows, I come over to my desk and see that my cd binder is open. I think, "Huh, I don't recall watching anything last night." And I close it up and replace it. My roommate, by this point, had made his way into the shower. He showers a lot. I think he uses showering as a defense mechanism. Or he's jerking off a lot. And while I was cleaning, it hit me that he would have had to download Friends to watch it and he's an extremely lazy person and he knows that I have most of them burned on to cd's. So, I moseyed on over to his computer and opened the cd drive and, lo and behold, one of my cd's. I paused. I reflected as I looked at our small, dorm studio. I noticed the table which, after talking to him only a few days ago, he'd said, "Fine, that half is your half, this half is my half, and I won't put anything on your side" (I explained that I would not be able to support his behavior this past term in the next one because not having a place to study in my room definitely affected my performance), was covered in books and papers and crap. In fact, it was that way only hours after he decided to draw a virtual line down the table. I noticed that his clothes were, again, all over the couch. As they have been for weeks. I reflected on the smell coming from the kitchen. Wondering thatward, I meditated over the fact that he'd eaten my bread because the end piece was missing and anyone with any sense knows you save the ends to the end (no pun intended) to keep the loaf fresh. Of course, spoiled rich brats are famous for lacking sense. And I flipped. And I waited. And when he emerged, sopping wet from the shower (having covered the entire bathroom floor in at least half an inch of water [I'm convinced he showers with the curtain drawn back]) I started. I opened with, "I'm done." That's getting to be my mantra. I explained to him how he is a completely inadequate person. That he's selfish and self-centered and disgusting. That the worst part about is that he claims to be a good person. The first time we had this talk, months ago, I said he has a compulsion -- to take without thinking. Or rather, to only think "Me! Need! Take!" He said that was offensive. And here we are, months later, and I'm still finding food gone, things out of place, things reeking of smoke (like the new scarf I started a few days ago). You would think he'd at least not eat my food knowing that I'm working two jobs to make ends meet an whenever he needs money he can just call daddy in Dubai. And like the useless, immature, loathsome creature he is, he couldn't handle the truth. He didn't defend himself. He just covered his ears and paced back and forth. Which only enraged me further. And then I went onto his upbringing. I wanted to think that maybe it's just him. His girlfriend is also well off and Indian, but she's wonderful. She deserves much better, which shouldn't be hard to achieve considering what she has. And then there was the chip incident. Remember? Chips I found on my keyboard when I opened my laptop. When I finally asked him about it, he told me it must have been his sister. Who uses the laptop of someone they do not know and have never met and then leaves tortilla chips on the keyboard and closes it? Someone with absolutely no regard for others and others' property. Which is precisely what her brother has done all along. So it must have been the way they were raised. This I pointed out and finally my good ol' roommate grew a spine and stood up. Saying that I shouldn't say things about his sister or his parents. Maybe I shouldn't, but I don't care. The two of them are like this, they had to get it from somewhere. And when daddy tells him to get a job for the first time in his life to learn the value of a dollar, but then gives him money whenever he asks for it, and then doesn't seem to care at all when the boy gets fired from that job for rarely showing up and fucking up when he did, I have to think the parents didn't quite do their job right. And then he said that he could say things about me... and my family and clearly how they raised me. Let's make it crystal: I was not raised well. At all. And I let him know this. Said that he could say whatever he wants about me to me because I don't care, because I am a decent person who knows how to treat other people... or I have some idea at the very least. I went onto say that what's most amazing to me is how he doesn't see it. He will demand his girlfriend be quiet because he needs to study, and then will be bothered when she won't go do something with him because she needs to work on her paper. He will whine like a petulant child because she won't bring him something when she comes over, but if she asks him to go get something for her he's tired or has a lot of work to do. He dodges his mother's phone calls for weeks because she wants him to come home, but he's only now decided to go home because he's bored here having nothing to do all day. And in all of this he said that I can't say anything about his sister because she didn't do it, he did it. No, first he said he had no idea who could have done it. And so then I asked, "You mean to tell me that someone broke into our room, came over to my computer, opened it up, ate chips and left some on the keyboard, closed it, and then thought it best to leave evidence behind and put their plastic bag that you later admitted to having purchased in the garbage for us to find and then left without taking anything?!?" And then he said that it was him. I don't believe. But it makes him a liar either way. And he said, "Fine. I'm leaving tonight for Dubai, and I'll get a room change." First, he's too lazy to do anything. If it weren't for me, his paychecks would still be in the drawer at work. Secondly, room transfers were already done. The students have all already scrambled. I don't know that he can get out. But oh how I want him to. And then he started to say things to me, but at that point I decided best to be immature and said that I wanted nothing more to do with him. And got on my phone and proceeded to make phone calls. And in all of this, what would it have been for him to say, "SWS2.1, you're right. I'm sorry. I am a bad person. You have very little, I have lots -- there's no excuse for me treating your stuff like this. And your asking me not to, is plenty of reason for me not to. And I was wrong to call you mean for not letting me use your coin jar lids for ash trays. And I will do better, and I will not use any more of your things," ? Apparently the world. Or very simple. Because, without the retraction of the "mean" comment, he's basically said that a few times before. Like I said, a compulsion. And he's been gone for hours. I suspect that his synapses may have finally landed a bull's eye: I think he knows not to come back until after 8.45 when I will be heading down to Adam's for the NYE festivities, which he heard me saying to a friend on the phone. That or he's cowering in a corner somewhere. Or trying to buy a gun. Luckily I'm sure he has no idea where to buy a gun and, moreover, who's going to sell a jittery kid who looks like he's from the Middle East (because he is) a gun in New York City? Thus concludes my rant.
I went to an Ivy League undergrad.
I go to a top NYC law school.
I date men (well...).
I live in Bed-Stuy.
I don't need more to say,
just more room to say it.
Etc.