Blog .:. March 2005 3 Entries
When you come in the back garden gate, you pass two entries and go in the third. Similarly, when you enter the front garden gate, you pass two entries and go in the third. This is because you live in the third block and there are only five in the entire building.
This means that when you’re entering your block and you can see two more entryways in front of you, everything is perfectly normal. Stop wondering if you’re going in the wrong entryway. You’re not. There are only five to choose from. You have to pass two… you have to see two in front of you… are you getting this yet? There are five of them. You. Are. In. The. Middle.
It’s been like this since October. No one has built any new blocks. No one has chopped any blocks off.
Your brain would appreciate it if you could pound this through your thick skull because, really, double checking the entryways every single time you come home is getting old.
P.S. When you come in the main gate, this means your entry is the one between the two side paths. This has not changed either. Stop trying to go in the entry by the first side path. It’s not yours! It’s never been yours! Ever! You don’t even know anyone who lives in that block!
I think some of you have never lived in dorms before. Or houses with other people in them, for that matter. Ever. So here are some tips for you:
- Answer the phone and the door. Neither one of them is for me, because I’m anti-social and have no friends. The fact that the phone and the intercom are near my room does not make it my responsibility to answer them. If you are expecting a call or a friend to come over, and then the phone rings/door buzzes, it is probably your friend. Deal with it! I am not your butler.
- Tell your friends to go easy on the buzzer. Specifically: tell them to take their damn finger off it. We know they’re the friends of [someone in particular] and we have stopped answering the door for you because we are sick of the way you never, ever answer the door for anyone. And, also, we think your friends are rude for ringing the buzzer continuously for five minutes; we don’t want to let them in. You do it. Or at least tell them to ring the door like normal people, and then we wouldn’t know it was them and might let them in after all.
- If you make tea, the teaspoons you use are your dirty dishes. Wash them. They are not the responsibility of whoever comes along later.
- I cook dinner at 3 a.m. It’s what I do. Just because you cook dinner at 7 p.m. doesn’t mean you should get a clean kitchen while I should have to clean up all your dirty counters before I can cook my dinner. Clean the counters off.
- If I had to spend twenty minutes cleaning the kitchen before I could use it, and then I happen to leave a frying pan soaking on the stove until the next morning, don’t bitch about it. I’m the only one that uses that frying pan. I leave the counters clean, the sink unclogged, and the table crumbless. I wipe out the microwave. The pan will be cleaned when I get up around noon. This is more than can be said for your teaspoons.
- Stop eating my eggs. One day I am going to figure out how to hard boil them in a microwave, and then my pot-less cooking techniques will be golden. Until then, I’m enjoying my scrambled eggs. Or I was, until you started stealing them.
- No, I did not know that your hamper in the laundry room was “saving your place.” Your hamper was tucked in a corner and hidden behind a draped sheet. For all I knew, it was empty and just waiting to be filled up with dry clothes. I wasn’t going to open it to find out. If you’re trying to claim the washing machine, put the hamper in front of it. I’ll respect that.
- I do not have my eye glued to the peephole of my door. I have no idea how many times you climbed up the stairs trying to see if the washing machine was empty. Leave a note, saying you’d like it next. Leave your hamper there. Don’t give me dirty looks if I happen to beat you to it when it does finally open up. I didn’t even you wanted it.
- I do not run the washing machine at 2 a.m., even though I’m awake and that’s when I tend to think about laundry. I don’t vacuum at 2 a.m., either. So if you could not run the washing machine or vacuum at 6 a.m., I’d really appreciate it.
That is all.
I mean it about my eggs.
If I really wanted to see you, I’d come over to your house. We’d order pizza. We’d watch a movie. You could kick my ass at Scrabble, because nothing’s funnier than kicking the English major’s ass at Scrabble. But then I’d smoke you in Risk just to prove you don’t know everything about strategy.
And if I want to hear your voice, I’ll call you. I’ll kick back in my chair with a beer in hand and we can chat about the latest news. But don’t hold your breath. You know how often I call my mother? I’ve been in England for six months now and called her twice. On the same day. Because it was an emergency. Phones are evil. You can do everything online these days, including ordering pizza. The odds are, I really don’t want to talk to you on the phone.
So if I’m online chatting or emailing with you, we can assume it’s because I don’t want to see you or hear your voice. So the webcam you’re trying to shove down my broadband connection? Ain’t cool. Shut it off.
And those of you who insist on taking pictures with your webcam and emailing them to me? Buy a freaking digital camera! All these camera-perched-on-the-monitor shots from a weird angle in a badly lit room? What is wrong with you? Do you think you look good in these pictures? You look like a seventeen year old idiot or a sexual predator. And cheap! You look cheap!
Buy a real digital camera. Or find a friend with a camera you can borrow. Hell, you can even take pictures on regular cameras and develop them. The technology to do so still exists, you know. You don’t even have to have a scanner—they’ll save your photos to disk for you.
Nothing says “I think I understand digital culture, but I’m really just a poser” like webcam pictures. Or “I’m too cheap to buy a real camera, too embarrassed about what I’m doing to ask anyone to help me take a good picture, and too stupid to realize that this is completely transparent in this dumb webcam picture I’m using.”
Webcams. They were only cool when they were pointed at a coffee pot, and that was so long ago the coffee pot has moved and left no forwarding address. You are not a coffee pot and nobody cares what you look like while you’re typing on your computer.
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