This Is The End

If you could go to YouTube and find the 10 minute long version of The End by The Doors, it would definitely be a nice accompaniment to this post as I am somewhat sad to say that this chapter of my life is officially over. Yes, M came today to get her security deposit back from the landlords and washed her hands of this place! People have asked me if I am sad about her departure and I can say, without a doubt, that I am completely ecstatic that I never have to wake up another day with the most pathetic human being I’ve ever encountered, in my fucking house. That aside, her leaving and thus the blog ending, is extremely bittersweet. I’ve decided to take this time to say a few things and answer a few questions that I’ve been asked throughout the life of The Room-Mate Chronicles.


“Holy shit, did this/that/and the other thing really happen???”
Every single thing that you have read in this blog is the complete truth. I know that many of the ridiculous stunts or comments that M has made (eg. Thinking eggs and pasta are one in the same, self-prescribing a neck brace, hot-wiring her own car) seem to be unfathomable but I kid you not, they happened. In fact, I have left out certain ridiculous things because I’ve questioned their validity. Sadly, M really is that dumb. I promise.


What are you going to do now?
Well I am going to enjoy peace and quiet, good smelling food, and clean dishes! I would love to start a new blog in the future but I am undecided at the moment about what to write on. This will be my last official post here at RC but I may or may not post in the future if something incredible happens. Any future posts will be strictly for my own records though, and I don’t expect any of your to check back (I am quite anal, you know.)


Why did you start this blog?
I started this blog for two reasons. The first reason being: release. Living with someone you despise can be extremely taxing on your mental well being. I felt on the verge of implosion! I had to somehow externalize my feelings and outrage and so I decided to write it all down. The second reason is really the most important: this shit NEEDS to be documented. While living with M, even I was startled at some of the events that transpired. I mean, they were like pinch-yourself moments where you feel that what is happening can’t possibly be real. My only regret is that I didn’t start the blog the very day we moved in together. So many wonderful and equally absurd things happened before the blog’s creation, though none nearly as tragic as say, her not going to work for 5 days. For the sake of nostalgia, I will share one with you now:

I was sitting on the couch watching TV one rainy weekday when M walks in the door completely soaked and miserable. Assuming she got fired, I begrudgingly asked her how she was.

“Oh, just great! I got HIT BY A CAR.”

This got my attention, of course, and I asked her what the damage was (this was back when she had her original red golf).

She replied, “No no, I got hit by a car. Me. My body.”

Trying to hold back laughter, I pretended that my chuckle and huge grin was due to my utter disbelief, rather than my glee. She then continues to explain that she was travelling down a hill when the car ahead of her hit a cyclist. The cyclist flew to the side of the road and M ran over his bike, entirely. Yes, I know. It gets even better. A police officer was across the road by chance and so after M backed her car off of the guy’s bike, the officer took everyone’s statements. When M was crossing the road to go back to her car, another car hit her side and she flew to the muddy ground. I then asked what the people said who hit her, and she told me that they just kept driving. So she’s writhing on the ground, just struck by a civic, and they didn’t even stop? I think this is an actual metaphor for her life. She fucks shit up which causes her to be fucked up and in the end, no one fucking cares.


My rant to the haters: I’ve received some flack here and there from people who think I am exploiting M despite her being so mentally downtrodden. “A good person would help her, not just laugh at her!” Fuck. You. You tell me that after you wake up every day seeing her acne-riddled face. You tell me that after you do everything in your power to drag her out of bed and get her to go into work. You tell me that after you clean up her hair off the bathroom floor. You tell me that after she cooks a fucking frozen lasagna in the microwave for 25 minutes. You tell me that after she buys an “electric ice scraper” and suggests you and her share it. You tell me that after you watch her dance like goddess bunny in her round toed Steve fucking Maddens. You tell me that after you watch her drive her own damn car into her grandfather’s garage door. You tell me that after you listen to her talk about how sexy her “bootay” is or how she’s going for a java, or how much she fucking LOVES Starbucks, her gay friends, jell-o, ichiban, puppies, her stupid broken Jetta. I HATE HER. Despite the immense joy I get out of watching a train wreck bigger than Britney, I truly do hate that bitch!


Phewf. Now I feel better. I want to give a huge thanks to my partner in crime, B. She has helped me gather priceless information for this blog when my eyes have not been present, and most importantly, she both understands and somewhat shares my complete thirst for everything M-related. She knows that I thrive off of every tidbit of new information that I can get and now that I don’t have the immense displeasure of seeing M every day, I will be relying on her more and more to give me the news of M’s next tragedy.


I also want to thank you, the reader of this glorious blog. I’m very thankful for the kind words and support that I’ve been given over the course of this. I know many people who have started reading the blog and then finished it one or two sittings. I also know people who witnessed the birth of this blog and still message me daily asking when the new post will be up. I’m grateful to know that I am not alone in my obsession and that I am also not alone in finding these antics to be newsworthy. This is the only blog that I’ve taken part in that has had a clear beginning and end and I am proud of myself for sticking with it. This would have been a tragedy in itself if this blog just petered away, without any of us knowing M’s fate.


Now, I better go before I get all misty-eyed. Again, a thousand times: thank you for sharing this with me!

The Big Move

In true M fashion, she has left everything to the last minute. I read her twitter this morning which was updated at 8am and said she was at work cleaning up puke. This is hilarious for two reasons: 1. This means she is at work, and not moving on her last day possible to move and 2. She is cleaning up someone’s vomit. Why is it hilarious that she isn’t moving? Well, I get to beat her down, obviously.

Update:
Much to my surprise, it is 3pm and she is moving all of her belongings out as I type! She sent me a text saying that she is going to be completely done moving and cleaning at 5pm. I told her to give the landlords the key, which she did! She is coming back tomorrow to talk to them about receiving her half of the damage deposit and then she disappears in a puff of lethal gas to dissipate out of my life for good.

Two Days

She has two days until she must officially be out. She hasn’t been here since her “big move” of last Wednesday when she took a whopping ONE item from her room. I can’t wait to charge her storage when she doesn’t get all her crap out on time. B asked if she could come over near midnight on Thursday and even if M is moving her shit out, she said she’ll grab it out of her hands and throw it outside on the lawn. I second this and I’m almost hoping she doesn’t get out on time now.