i think it's come to this

today i feel: awesome possum
today i'm hearing: hellogoodbye--dear jamie, sincerely me
today i'm thinking: itunes should not start being a twat now

My apartment is currently a bit of a sty. Now, I do not feel terribly responsible for this in that I have not been here much at all recently and have not been the one making messes, but I do feel responsible in that I have not been here to clean said messes up. This cannot be healthy. Why should I be feeling responsible for the messes of others when I was always taught to clean up after yourself? Have I really turned into that much of a Jewish mother? These questions and more on next week's episode of Growing Up Goy!

I got the best night of sleep last night that I have gotten in ages. I slept the entire night through, not waking up for a second until morning. Now, this wasn't entirely appreciated by certain other people, but it was fantastic for me. I don't even remember the last time I slept the whole night through. Fucking brilliant.

I'm mildly irritated about something. And God made blogs. And I have one. So guess what's about to happen! Yay! Kiri's whining again! Woo ten! Feel free to skip to the inspirational quote at the end, because this could get seedy.

So there's this guy I live with. And he is NOT A BAD GUY. He's actually pretty cool most of the time. And my roommate really, really likes him for some reason (probably his HUGE ARSE), so I can't say too many things about him. But we have a very serious issue, this guy I live with and I. And he is still completely oblivious to just how big of an issue this is to me.

That issue is called Kitchen Etiquette.

Now, I was always taught that when you make a mess, you clean it up. There were some pretty serious repercusions in my house if you were silly enough to forget to do this. And it's become my habit to follow that as closely as I can, especially when doing so aids in keeping someplace as personal as a kitchen hygenic. I do not leave dishes sitting about for several days on the stove. That is icky. I do not approve. This guy I live with, however, was apparently raised on a different set of rules. And so I decided that, just this once, I would ignore this law of mine and I started cleaning up the kitchen that he trashed two days ago. And that was fine. Until I realised the true extent of his trashing of the kitchen. See, I haven't been home much due to work and boy and a couple of other things that aren't quite as prominent. So I was shocked and appaulled to find a pan festering in veal grease and cups of olive oil and dirty glasses in the cabinet and things like that. That's just gross, man! That's just gross. And so I called my da (because he really is the shit and I don't care who makes fun of me for saying that) and I found out the proper way to dispose of such things and I did and the only (only) complaint I made was a text message to said guy I live with stating, 'We need to talk, grease monkey'. Which was appropriate! Because there's grease everywhere!

I know I'm a chatch about this sort of thing. I understand that. There are much more important issues and concerns than the messy kitchen of my apartment. Like AIDS. And cancer research. Those are very important things. But it's very, very rude to leave a place a mess. And rudeness bothers me. Hence the blog rant.

And for everyone who skipped to the bottom to read the inspirational quote, I lied. I'm a chatch about inspirational quotes as well as kitchens. And I can't believe how much I'm saying 'chatch' today.