So, the latest with my flatmate.

My friend, Sarah, came over the other day, and in the course of the evening, we had beverages. Offering beverages is just one of those things you do with guests.

When she left, the house was again spotless, although somewhere or other I had missed the beverage mugs. This is pretty normal for me--after guests leave, I generally find, like two weeks later, some kind of thing, like a water bottle under the bed, or a mug on my dresser, or whatever.

So anyway, my flatmate came by last night, and walked up to me and asked, "So, what's the deal with the mugs?" I realised that he must mean because a couple of them were missing from the cupboard, so I said, "Oh, I had guests over the other day, and it usually takes a couple of days for me to notice that I missed a mug or whatever."

"Well," he said, "from now on you should tell your guests that they are only allowed to place things in one small spot."

"Oh, yeah, I'll really keep them that way," I responded.

This guy can be such an idiot.

Yes, he actually does complain if a mug is misplaced somewhere in the house. I'm not even talking about something out of place in the kitchen. I'm talking about, Sarah left a mug in my bedroom.

I think he made up a story about a mouse the other day. He said that he saw a mouse in the house. I am 98% sure that this is because I had left a loaf of bread on the counter--in the breadbasket. You know, where it belongs. But he prefers it if the house looks like nobody lives there. So he said that he saw a mouse, and that "we" have to be very careful about not leaving food out.

I swear, some people should just not have flatmates. I mean, if you cannot handle having a person who keeps the house as well as I do, then you honestly cannot handle having a flatmate at all.

The thing is, I will fully cop to having been a slob at times when I was living alone. But I was conscious of having a flatmate, and so I've been keeping all common areas spotless, and my room relatively spotless. You know, always made bed, things generally put away unless I've been terribly busy, that kind of thing.

This guy is a freak.

VERY BRIEF UPDATE

So I haven't been writing here lately, mostly because I've been exhausted out of my head. I'm conflicted in life in general, and being tired is starting to make me depressed.

I want to move back home, and work to get George W. Bush out of office. Campaign for decent healthcare. That sort of thing. Work for social change.

I want to see more of Europe.

I want to ship a Mini to Boston, and then drive it to Oakland.

I want to stay away from men.

I want to fall in love.

No, scratch that. I definitely don't want to fall in love. I just want other people to fall in love with me, and possibly give me presents, or at least compose odes to, I don't know, my hair or something.

I want to never have to work again.

I want to lie down, go to sleep, and never wake up.

I want to spend my mornings working in a garden. Maybe reading newspapers.

I don't want to fight any more. I don't want to want things I can't have.

Anyway.

I went for sushi last Friday and had the following conversation:

Me: ...and two Tako Nigiri.

Sushi Chef: Octopus?

Me: Yes. Tako Nigiri?

SC: Octopus?

Me: Yes, octopus.

SC: You want octopus?

Me: Yees...?

SC: Japanese people like octopus very much. White people no like octopus.

Me: I like octopus very much.

SC: Where have you had octopus?

Me: I'm from California....

SC: AAaaahh!

Yes, it's true. Anyone thinks you're weird, all you have to do is say that you're from California, and they just accept it. Eat puppies for breakfast? Oh. California. Why didn't you say so?

I had this kind of ominous feeling the other day, of..."and so it starts." It was when my flatmate started talking to me about these new "Oyster cards." They're basically transit passes, but you buy them in advance, and you give them all of your personal information, and they track your movements.

They sell these by saying that they are far, far, cheaper than paying for a weekly transit pass, which in turn is cheaper than a daily pass. But they track your movements. And I realised that possibly for the first time in my life, I am making the active decision to go with the more expensive alternative simply because I don't want to give up my personal information and have someone track my movements.

It just felt really ominous. Like the beginning of something. And what was even weirder was listening to my flatmate say, "yes, they track you, oooOOOoooo." This bothered him, and yet he bought it anyway, to save a few quid. It just amazes me how cheaply we will sell our freedom.