the beach at Arbroath, Scotland

30 July 2004
ominous forshadowing

i know i've said this moving adventure has consumed my life. it has. it's literally all i'm doing these days, getting up obscenely early, going to work, coming home, packing, throwing stuff out, playing with boxes and tape and fat blue Sharpie markers, marking each box "KITCHEN", "BATHROOM" or "BEDROOM". preparing for my flight.

last week the basement flooded in a major way. it all started last Sunday night, when i went to wash up for bed. the bathtub was filled nearly to the brim and the entire bathroom smelled like stinky flowers. i could only guess that Kelly had taken her once-weekly shower, afterwards dousing herself in god knows what sort of nasty perfume (as a freakish side note, she also sprays tons of air freshener after she takes a shit). i went down to her room and suggested that she do something about it. then i went to bed.

i awoke at 2 or so to a knock. the entire downstairs is flooded, i could hear her say through my bedroom door. in my half-asleep state, i put my feet on the floor, fully expecting it to be wet. it only dawned on me then that by "downstairs" she meant the basement, where her bedroom is. her entire room was under a good inch of sewage water. and because she's a slob, the entire floor of her bedroom was covered with stuff - shoes, books, cds, papers, notebooks. all now ruined. the first thing i asked her was if she had renter's insurance. she said she didn't know.

i helped her clean up, this girl that i don't even like (and frequently loathe), for most of the night. i resisted commenting on the fact that, if all of her shit hadn't been on the floor, it might not have gotten ruined.

so the plumber, and then roto rooter guy came and went, saying the pipes had ruptured or something from tree roots. my landlord seems to be distancing herself from this problem as much as possible, as if poised to lay the blame on us. i suppose this is an easy thing to do all the way from North Carolina.

this house is literally falling apart around me. i am so glad i am leaving.

things are entirely packed now, all moved into the living room. i'm hoping Sunday will be as painless as possible, with no humidity and no rain, no pissed off parents and no twisted ankles. i can wish, right?

in an interesting "small world" moment: i called my landlord today to see when i could pick up my key. in the course of the conversation, he asked me if i knew the kid that was moving out of the apartment (also a Tyler student). i said the name sounded familiar.

"oh. because i told him your name and he thought your mom and his mom went to college together."

as soon as i got off the phone, i called my mom. turns out the kid who is moving out of my apartment is the son of one of her best friends from college. ha!

in other news, i have had another IKEA flare-up. i got the new catalogue in the mail this week. It is like my crack, i can't get enough. there's a new store in South Philly, so now i have two (count 'em, two) IKEAs to choose from. i need all manner of home furnishings, mostly because all the stuff i have now doesn't fit into my little hovel in East Oak Lane. i also need new silverware and plates, because the ones i have now are shot to shit by my ever so considerate roommates. i'm actually planning on making some large shallow bowls for myself (since i hate eating off flat plates). can you believe, all this time as a potter, and i've never made anything for myself?

so yes, another excursion to IKEA is in order. right now i'm trying to figure out the right person to ask to go with me. almost like a date, or a very short marriage that dissolves upon exit of the store. one must never go to IKEA alone, but instead must drag a (sometimes unwilling) second party with you, to share the joy of cheap, minimalist, Scandinavian home furnishings. one must walk through the showroom every single time, and sit for long lengths of time in the little room dioramas. one must have lunch at the restaurant, including that little dessert plate with those weird chocolate and marshmallow pastries. IKEA is like my religion, and it is time to make a pilgrimage.

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