Due to circumstances beyond my control, there are some shelves in The Flatmates room.* There are four separate ones, two on each wall. Upon one of these shelves are some things which are mine. They are rather boring work-related things, but they do take up the whole shelf. At this point, I should like to mention that they take up one shelf. Just one. And it's the highest one. Pretty much out of reach, actually.
According to The Flatmate, however, this is A Problem.
The latest line I had, involving money again, was to the tone of; "well I'm paying for a room I can't even use, it's half taken up with your stuff!"
Oh sod off!!
When in the history of the world has "Half" been equal to "one shelf that you can't reach anyway". Maths my dear, maths.
I have taken the liberty to work out the volume of the room in litres. Well, not exactly, I've approximated, but it's close enough without getting into too much detail! If you filled the room with water it would contain 27500L. The shelf in question would contain 300 litres.
That makes it just slightly less than 1.1% of the room!!
So, ladies and gentlemen. Mathematics has been rewritten by my Frustrating Flatmate!
1/2 = 1.1%
My Dear Readers, I give you full permission to cite this entry as a reference when explaining to your own lovely landlords that, should any unforeseen circumstances arise requiring you to pay them half of the rent, you will actually only be paying them 0.01% of the total you owe!
Happy days!
*I shan't bother to bore you with the circumstances, suffice to say there's sod all I can do about the shelves being there for the time being.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Other Flatmate Blogs
It would appear this idea isn't new!
That comes as no surprise.
I'm sure there have been many frustrating flatmates in the past, and I don't doubt that there will be many more to come...
One blog in particular stood out to me when I was having a nosey around at other peoples Flatmate Blogs, and I link it for you here;
http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com/
...and I thought my flatmate was bad!!
It's wonderfully written, despite being peppered with some rather colourfull language. And it did make me laugh that the blogger has chosen such similar pictures to mine, must be a Frustrating Flatmate thing! Although I'm not so techy minded as to be able to put funny little slogans on mine. (Nor do I have a techy minded friend to rope in unfortunately.)
Bon Appetite!
ps. I shall pop up some other links soon to some of the other wonderful blogs I discovered.
That comes as no surprise.
I'm sure there have been many frustrating flatmates in the past, and I don't doubt that there will be many more to come...
One blog in particular stood out to me when I was having a nosey around at other peoples Flatmate Blogs, and I link it for you here;
http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com/
...and I thought my flatmate was bad!!
It's wonderfully written, despite being peppered with some rather colourfull language. And it did make me laugh that the blogger has chosen such similar pictures to mine, must be a Frustrating Flatmate thing! Although I'm not so techy minded as to be able to put funny little slogans on mine. (Nor do I have a techy minded friend to rope in unfortunately.)
Bon Appetite!
ps. I shall pop up some other links soon to some of the other wonderful blogs I discovered.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
The Flatmate’s Boyfriend Incident, well, sort of.
I have a very good friend. He and I have been friends for a long time now, in a rather profane Cruel Intentions sort of way. So when he took a fancy to The Flatmate I said, “ah, I wouldn’t. Once you’re done with her that could be a problem.” As usual, I was ignored.
To say the situation escalated is a bit like saying the Twin Towers sort of wobbled a bit…
Initially, all was rosy. The Friend and The Flatmate were spending an awful lot of time together indulging in a rather geeky TV-related hobby they both share. (Which I don’t share!) All was well. The Friend informed me he really was taking a shine to her and that there had been Cuddles. Just Cuddles mind you.
Now this is where it gets complicated. She would come home of a night, flop down on the sofa and inform me she’d been over to see “That bloody [-] again”. Then a lengthy discussion would ensue about how The Friend wasn’t getting the hint, and seemed to think they were in a relationship, even though she’d made it perfectly clear they were not, and they were “just mates”.
The next day, The Friend would pop over. And the story differed somewhat. According to him all was going well. She was giving him all the right signs, even telling him she had feelings for him. And of course there had been more Cuddles.
I told The Friend what The Flatmate had said. I couldn’t dream of doing otherwise, we’ve known each other far too long. Plus I was curious! Was he misreading the signs? Or was she talking rot?
Cut a long story short, turns out she was talking rot.
I did my best to dissuade The Friend, but unfortunately once his interest has been piqued, this is no mean feat! He wasn’t having any of it. He continued “the chase”. She, on the other hand, moaned to me. I told her her best bet is to tell him a straight No, Not Interested. Which she didn’t really do, she sort of tried, but skirted around the issue rather than coming straight to the point. And coming straight to the point in a blunt and forward manner is what is required with The Friend if you want to get anything through to him sometimes! Believe me, I know.
..and then enter The Inevitable Text Message.
The Flatmate had decided to go down the “ignore him and hope he goes away” route. Which I knew wasn’t going to work, but hey ho, I had tried to help and failed already. Then I got a message from The Friend;
“Why is [-] ignoring me?”
“Because she’s not interested mate”
“Well I wish she’d bloody tell me so herself”
“You don’t need her to, I’m telling you. Love ya! xx”
“I’m going to text her”
“Don’t”
…
“I sent her this: [-]”
And “This” was a lengthy and provoking rant about “her DVDs being left with Lydia and how not having the decency to even f*** message him to say goodbye after everything he’s done is disgusting” etc etc
I messaged him back;
“You’re a pratt”
The Flatmate came home that night in a foul mood. She immediately read out the aforementioned text message to me.
…And I laughed.
I couldn’t help it! It was just so funny! The message was clearly just a load of old nonsense designed to provoke a response. I thought she’d see through that. She didn’t however. And apparently laughing was inappropriate. She stormed off and slammed her door.
So I messaged The Friend;
“I’m going to strangle you for this one. You are a drama queen and a needy, incorrigible extrovert!!”
His reply?
“Take it she just got home then.”
Men!
To say the situation escalated is a bit like saying the Twin Towers sort of wobbled a bit…
Initially, all was rosy. The Friend and The Flatmate were spending an awful lot of time together indulging in a rather geeky TV-related hobby they both share. (Which I don’t share!) All was well. The Friend informed me he really was taking a shine to her and that there had been Cuddles. Just Cuddles mind you.
Now this is where it gets complicated. She would come home of a night, flop down on the sofa and inform me she’d been over to see “That bloody [-] again”. Then a lengthy discussion would ensue about how The Friend wasn’t getting the hint, and seemed to think they were in a relationship, even though she’d made it perfectly clear they were not, and they were “just mates”.
The next day, The Friend would pop over. And the story differed somewhat. According to him all was going well. She was giving him all the right signs, even telling him she had feelings for him. And of course there had been more Cuddles.
I told The Friend what The Flatmate had said. I couldn’t dream of doing otherwise, we’ve known each other far too long. Plus I was curious! Was he misreading the signs? Or was she talking rot?
Cut a long story short, turns out she was talking rot.
I did my best to dissuade The Friend, but unfortunately once his interest has been piqued, this is no mean feat! He wasn’t having any of it. He continued “the chase”. She, on the other hand, moaned to me. I told her her best bet is to tell him a straight No, Not Interested. Which she didn’t really do, she sort of tried, but skirted around the issue rather than coming straight to the point. And coming straight to the point in a blunt and forward manner is what is required with The Friend if you want to get anything through to him sometimes! Believe me, I know.
..and then enter The Inevitable Text Message.
The Flatmate had decided to go down the “ignore him and hope he goes away” route. Which I knew wasn’t going to work, but hey ho, I had tried to help and failed already. Then I got a message from The Friend;
“Why is [-] ignoring me?”
“Because she’s not interested mate”
“Well I wish she’d bloody tell me so herself”
“You don’t need her to, I’m telling you. Love ya! xx”
“I’m going to text her”
“Don’t”
…
“I sent her this: [-]”
And “This” was a lengthy and provoking rant about “her DVDs being left with Lydia and how not having the decency to even f*** message him to say goodbye after everything he’s done is disgusting” etc etc
I messaged him back;
“You’re a pratt”
The Flatmate came home that night in a foul mood. She immediately read out the aforementioned text message to me.
…And I laughed.
I couldn’t help it! It was just so funny! The message was clearly just a load of old nonsense designed to provoke a response. I thought she’d see through that. She didn’t however. And apparently laughing was inappropriate. She stormed off and slammed her door.
So I messaged The Friend;
“I’m going to strangle you for this one. You are a drama queen and a needy, incorrigible extrovert!!”
His reply?
“Take it she just got home then.”
Men!
Over 18s for this post please: That Little Pink Laptop
…belongs to me!!
However, when the flatmate moved in I said I didn’t mind her using it in the slightest if I wasn’t using it. This was because after she’d been living in my flat all of a week or two, her laptop bit the dust. Probably because its blue, not pink. Everyone knows blue ones are dodgy you know…
Anyhow, she uses my laptop an awful lot now. For the most part it doesn’t really bother me, or at least it didn’t until recently.
Because recently, I was trawling through the history on my browser for something I’d spotted and forgotten to bookmark.
And I came across porn.
I know it’s not The Boyfriend. He and I are perfectly open about such things, and when I asked him, his response was, “don’t be silly, I use private browsing. Wouldn’t want your flatmate finding anything!”
But it’s not just any old in-and-out boob wiggling porn, it’s rather, “extreme” porn. Now I know everyone’s tastes differ, and I’m not opposed to a little bit of bondage per se. But I find The Flatmate watching “lesbian electrocution porn” on my little pink laptop slightly creepy, to say the least.
I briefly considered installing a funny little Christian Porn Blocking app. It pops up a window warning you that by trying to access Redtube you are essentially crucifying Jesus again. However, I decided there’s not a lot of point. The Boyfriend would soon switch it off…
However, when the flatmate moved in I said I didn’t mind her using it in the slightest if I wasn’t using it. This was because after she’d been living in my flat all of a week or two, her laptop bit the dust. Probably because its blue, not pink. Everyone knows blue ones are dodgy you know…
Anyhow, she uses my laptop an awful lot now. For the most part it doesn’t really bother me, or at least it didn’t until recently.
Because recently, I was trawling through the history on my browser for something I’d spotted and forgotten to bookmark.
And I came across porn.
I know it’s not The Boyfriend. He and I are perfectly open about such things, and when I asked him, his response was, “don’t be silly, I use private browsing. Wouldn’t want your flatmate finding anything!”
But it’s not just any old in-and-out boob wiggling porn, it’s rather, “extreme” porn. Now I know everyone’s tastes differ, and I’m not opposed to a little bit of bondage per se. But I find The Flatmate watching “lesbian electrocution porn” on my little pink laptop slightly creepy, to say the least.
I briefly considered installing a funny little Christian Porn Blocking app. It pops up a window warning you that by trying to access Redtube you are essentially crucifying Jesus again. However, I decided there’s not a lot of point. The Boyfriend would soon switch it off…
My Lovely Fishes, or, "Don't B**** Me!"
I was sitting in the lounge recently minding my own business when The Flatmate came in. We were chatting away quite happily and she mentioned my new fish tanks. (Um, I now have 9…) What began as an innocent enough discussion on filters and lighting soon dwindled to Money.
Oh dear. The paper with the Queens Head on has reared it’s ugly head, mayhem and disorder shall ensue.
“Don’t they cost a ton to run?” she says.
I began by replying, “You’d be surprised, the filters on the tanks don’t cost that much to run at all…”
“Listen, I’m not being funny, but we share the electricity cost* and I don’t want to pay for your bloody fish. You say that, but I know it puts the electricity bill up and I don’t see why I should pay for them.”
“…its actually the lighting that costs the most out of the whole set up. What’s the electricity bill got to do with anything??”
“Oh, um, listen I’m going out in a bit, I’ll see you soon. Have a good evening”
Assume. It makes an ASS out of U and ME. Let people finish their sentences. Potential flatmates, take note.
*Translation: she pays a score a month, I foot the rest. Because I have 9 fish tanks, and they do cost a lot to run.
Oh dear. The paper with the Queens Head on has reared it’s ugly head, mayhem and disorder shall ensue.
“Don’t they cost a ton to run?” she says.
I began by replying, “You’d be surprised, the filters on the tanks don’t cost that much to run at all…”
“Listen, I’m not being funny, but we share the electricity cost* and I don’t want to pay for your bloody fish. You say that, but I know it puts the electricity bill up and I don’t see why I should pay for them.”
“…its actually the lighting that costs the most out of the whole set up. What’s the electricity bill got to do with anything??”
“Oh, um, listen I’m going out in a bit, I’ll see you soon. Have a good evening”
Assume. It makes an ASS out of U and ME. Let people finish their sentences. Potential flatmates, take note.
*Translation: she pays a score a month, I foot the rest. Because I have 9 fish tanks, and they do cost a lot to run.
The Sugar Incident
It’s the silliest of things. But that doesn’t make it any less irritating! The Flatmate drinks a lot of coffee, I drink a little. This in itself is no problem whatsoever. The problem arose when The Flatmate spilt a little sugar on the work surface. After The Boyfriend pointed it out, she, who I believe genuinely hadn’t’ noticed, wiped it up. Which again, isn’t a problem in itself. However, she left the spilt coffee next to it, “because she hadn’t spilt it”
Oh no, it has begun…
There will soon be little notes on the fridge about “my milk” and “my butter” and calculatedly washed up mugs alongside pointedly ignored dishes…
Someone shoot me now.
Oh no, it has begun…
There will soon be little notes on the fridge about “my milk” and “my butter” and calculatedly washed up mugs alongside pointedly ignored dishes…
Someone shoot me now.
How much do I owe you??
Such a familiar line, “how much?? Are you sure? It can’t be. Can it?”
Yes. It is. Just the same as it was last month I’m afraid.
When The Flatmate moved in, she and I had a good old scout around and worked out a price. We took into consideration a lot of factors. The going rate for a room of similar size in the area, the cost of the bills, the estimated extra cost of having another person, and the fact that the room was furnished. There was much pencil biting, calculator fiddling and illegible scribbling done. We checked, double checked and rechecked our maths and eventually settled on a figure we were both happy with. We also settled on payments being weekly and on a specific day each week. This, however, rather fell by the wayside. The payments became sporadic. I ignored this if I’m honest. As long as the payments materialised, I decided I wasn’t too fussed at which point in the month they appeared.
The irritating thing is the constant “are you sure” comments. I have a receipt book. The flatmate takes one copy and I keep the carbon copy. Each receipt details how much was paid and when and for which dates. As well as this, I note it on the calendar. On the payment day I make a note saying “this week paid” every time more money is handed over. It’s a fairly foolproof system. The figure stays the same week by week, and the records are ironclad.
Yet still, I get “are you sure??”
There are a few conclusions I can come to. Some not so pleasant. I can’t put it down to pure forgetfulness on the part of The Flatmate (unfortunately) because the “are you sure” is often accompanied by malicious “I’m sure I’ve paid you already” type comments.
So, it’s either;
1. Someone has done her for dosh in the past and she’s suspicious it will happen again. If so, they are bastards, but at least I can understand it.
2. She’s done someone for dosh in the past and is well aware that the best defence is a good offence. If so, she’s a bastard. Plus, it ain’t gonna work on me. I keep records.
3. She’s a secret agent and it’s part of her cover to make me believe she’s really a poor student. If so, it’s working wonderfully!
Either way, a monthly “how much” argument is a pain. It makes you feel guilty for daring to have the audacity to ask your flatmate to pay you the rent they rightfully owe you.
Shame it doesn’t work like that when the gas bill arrives…
Yes. It is. Just the same as it was last month I’m afraid.
When The Flatmate moved in, she and I had a good old scout around and worked out a price. We took into consideration a lot of factors. The going rate for a room of similar size in the area, the cost of the bills, the estimated extra cost of having another person, and the fact that the room was furnished. There was much pencil biting, calculator fiddling and illegible scribbling done. We checked, double checked and rechecked our maths and eventually settled on a figure we were both happy with. We also settled on payments being weekly and on a specific day each week. This, however, rather fell by the wayside. The payments became sporadic. I ignored this if I’m honest. As long as the payments materialised, I decided I wasn’t too fussed at which point in the month they appeared.
The irritating thing is the constant “are you sure” comments. I have a receipt book. The flatmate takes one copy and I keep the carbon copy. Each receipt details how much was paid and when and for which dates. As well as this, I note it on the calendar. On the payment day I make a note saying “this week paid” every time more money is handed over. It’s a fairly foolproof system. The figure stays the same week by week, and the records are ironclad.
Yet still, I get “are you sure??”
There are a few conclusions I can come to. Some not so pleasant. I can’t put it down to pure forgetfulness on the part of The Flatmate (unfortunately) because the “are you sure” is often accompanied by malicious “I’m sure I’ve paid you already” type comments.
So, it’s either;
1. Someone has done her for dosh in the past and she’s suspicious it will happen again. If so, they are bastards, but at least I can understand it.
2. She’s done someone for dosh in the past and is well aware that the best defence is a good offence. If so, she’s a bastard. Plus, it ain’t gonna work on me. I keep records.
3. She’s a secret agent and it’s part of her cover to make me believe she’s really a poor student. If so, it’s working wonderfully!
Either way, a monthly “how much” argument is a pain. It makes you feel guilty for daring to have the audacity to ask your flatmate to pay you the rent they rightfully owe you.
Shame it doesn’t work like that when the gas bill arrives…
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