Fatboy Slim is fucking in heaven

I got back from Albany at 6:00 this morning.

Unfortunately, this does not mean that anything particularly newsworthy took place. I went with M, as usual. I got hit on more than usual, though, so that was... um... refreshing, maybe? One guy, who I had met several weeks ago as a friend of M's, kept hanging on me all night, telling me how cute I was, and insisting that M and I crash at his place so that he and I could make out all night. I couldn't help but smile, this guy is pretty cute and has what seems to be a good personality, but I'm still not one to ever do anything like that. Ever. Another guy came up to me to ask about my piercings (really, they're not that special or even rare). This led to an on-again off-again conversation about everything from careers, hometowns, and college life. He was a nice guy (from Boston) but I made it clear early on that I wasn't from the area, so at the end of the night, we shook hands and agreed that it was good talking to one another. Not a bad night, in my opinion.

So yeah, I got M and I back to town around 6:00, dropped him off at his apartment, and was lifeless in bed by 6:15. Didn't wake up until after 2:00 this afternoon, which is very unlike me. I usually at least wake up in the late morning and go back to sleep, but not today.

Apparently I either live with lying thieves or live in a haunted house, because weird shit keeps happening around here. Our washer and dryer are in the basement, for instance. I'm not one to be easily creeped out by basements, but as basements go, the one in this house is really unpleasant. Needless to say, my roommates and I only go down there to do laundry, and nothing else. The washer and dryer are located next to a utility sink down there, which has two deep basins, a faucet, and all that crap. Several weeks ago, I went downstairs to take my clothes out of the washer and found two jugs of detergent (we each have our own) lying in the middle of the floor, about 5 feet away from the washer and dryer. Interesting. Later that afternoon, I asked my roommate who had been down there why she'd thrown them on the floor. She replied, "I put them both on the back ledge of the sink." Okay, that just doesn't make sense. Even if the washer had gotten out of balance and vibrated up against the sink, causing the jugs to fall off the back, they would have both landed *in* the sink. The sink is up against the wall, so they couldn't have fallen behind the sink and rolled out onto the floor. The sink is way too deep for them to have bounced out. Somehow each jug jumped from the back of the sink, over the basins, and landed about 5-10 feet away on the floor. Odd? You betcha.

Our upstairs bathroom, which I share with two of my roommates, is also bizarre. The sink is located in the middle of one wall, with the toilet to the right of it. There is nothing to the left of the sink, so we have our trashcan there. My roommate likes to carry a boom box into the bathroom when she showers, so she plugs it in over the sink and sits it on the tank of the toilet. She claims that, on more than one occasion, the stereo falls off the toilet. The tank lid is flat, so it doesn't make sense to begin with, but she says that when she gets out of the shower, it's always to the *left* of the sink. Yes, the stereo somehow jumps from the toilet tank, over the sink, and onto the floor on the opposite side. What the fuck is going on here?

Food also magically disappears from the fridge, but I'm willing to bet that has more to do with dirty liars who say it wasn't them than ghosts and goblins.

Seriously. I could go for an explanation or two right about now. Funk soul brotha, check it out now....

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