(no subject)

Moar Wikipedia learnin'.

The president of Turkmenistan's name is Gurbanguly Mälikgulyýewiç Berdimuhammedow.

Woah.

And when I get my Wikipedia article about me, you all have to work to make sure I stay classified as "Category:Possibly living people".

(no subject)

I have been mucho pissy all day. And I know the exact reason. Dumb ass cohab types who've decided that my room is the place to hang out now. I mean seriously. I related the conversation from last night about how everybody could just keep hanging out in here playing loud YouTube videos because she only had dance in the morning. I got maybe 3 hours of sleep. On top of a similar amount the night before. And now I'm ready to bite someone everyone's head off.

Doesn't help that at my genetics lab today, my "lab partner" just sat there and looked dumb for the entire thing. She'd only do something when I explicitly gave her instructions/handed her the micropipette and said "Suck. Drop." And of course, somehow even that got screwed up, because our titrations were not the right color. Too much of the serum added, we think. (Guess who did the micropipetting for that part? Not me, let's say.)

But I ran back to the room in my 30 minute gap or so before my non-West Wing class (we're finally starting to watch it next week, he says), and Chelsea's in there taking a nap. I was fucking furious. I really wanted to be a bitch and "accidentally" wake her up, but that thought only occurred to me after I'd left. She keeps me up all hours of the night (okay, not past 1 really, but kept me from getting any work done for those same hours, so I had to force myself to stay up even later for homework), saying that it's okay because she doesn't have classes, and then has the nerve to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon. When, of course, when I want to take a nap after being in class from 8 until 4, no such luck because the freaking party's back in my room.

Add that to the fact that when I got in today, she accosts me about there somehow being some of my hair on the edge of her bed. Umm, yeah. Because I decided to pull out some of my hair by the roots and rub my feet along the carpet until I'd amassed enough static cling to maliciously place the hair right there on the edge of her bed. WTF? What does she expect me to respond to that? "Umm, sorry?" is what she got. You know what, whatever. Maybe she'd get a different response if it wasn't her fault I've had maybe 7 hours of sleep over the past two days she'd get more. . . idk, sympathy (though prolly not), but for now? Fuck you, ma'am. It's not like there's even any purpose to you or your cronies (currently Breanna, one of our suitemates) being in here atm--you're not even talking to each other really, just looking at people's Facebooks. Don't you have homework? God knows I do, and I can't fucking get any of it done when I'm having to live my life by your goddamned social schedule. I knew I loved it when she left for the weekend like she's done twice so far, but I didn't really realize how much until she came back this week. It's pretty obvious the roommate honeymoon has worn off.

Must remember to bring my gym class pre-test lab worksheet by the grad student teacher guy's mailbox, as I'm losing points for forgetting it on Wednesday. I meant to bring it by that day, but didn't. I've still got to find the thing, actualmente.

Stupid weightgainage means mucho leg pains of late. Hips, mostly. And now my left pinky, though probably unrelated--it only started when I began typing this, so I think I'm just holding it strangely.

(no subject)

OMG. And this is fucking it. I'm about to cry, I'm so goddamned pissed off. She manages to find the time to go around and make these little index cards in the kitchen with multicolored sharpies that say things like "The ice bowl is for ICE. Don't put other things in there." And have a bunch of dishes out on the counter and with one that points to some of them and complains that they weren't washed out properly and another that bitches about how some other weren't dried properly, and are now molding.

Admittedly, I'm in a pissy mood. So I'm taking this as an attack a lot more than I probably should, because one would hope that this isn't directed at me. But I can't help but think that it is, because Chelsea went all buddy-buddy with the other two and the three of them have pretty much just ignored me except to make me miserable this entire almost-month. So it feels like I'm getting ganged up on for no reason. Wanna know why no reason? A) I don't use any of those dishes that she had out on the counter. They were these tupperware things that somebody brought, and though I've used items from the set on occasion, I use the same two containers of a totally different size, one of which was in my room still because I hadn't had the chance to wash it out yet from last night and I didn't want to stick it out in the sink because things in the sink piss me off (as then you can't use the sink) and I'd just get bitched at for leaving dirty dishes. B) Any mold that's around is because nobody else in the house knows how to wash dishes, and some idiot put the sponge in their cutsey little holder when it was still full of water. The sponge is freaking disgusting with that nasty mold smell--that's what's molding the dishes, not a failure to dry.

And then there was a list of "missing" kitchen stuff. Okay. . . it's not like they're gone forever. I've got one of the plates, the bowls are still in the other room because they had popcorn in them one of those nights they were keeping me up, and the silverware. . . yeah, idk about that. I've got a spoon along with the aforementioned plastic container I had cereal in yesterday, but that's all I can come up with on my part. Still, it's around. There was really no need to write something out to call everybody out on it, because that's both annoyingly passive-aggressive and far more mountain-out-of-molehill than was called for.

And the first little sign? There was a ziplock bag full of ice in the ice bowl. From when Breanna cut her foot in the dining hall and subsequently passed out and scraped her face. In-fucking-considerate much? If it pisses you off that much to have something in the ice bowl (that I'm the only one who ever refills the trays for), just take it out. Don't make a thing. And especially don't take the bag of ice out of the freezer and set it on the goddamned table, you idiot. Seriously, how can you be that fucking stupid?

But the thing that really got me? I nicked a bunch of veggies from the dining hall and put them in plastic bags. The others eat them, which again pisses me off to no end, but that's not the issue. Somehow, one of the bags (that I didn't finish, because I immediately wash out the baggies that I empty and then usually fill them up again, and this still had cauliflower remnants in it) got stuck in my one (yeah, another thing--they staked out the entire kitchen before I got there, so out of the 8 or so cabinets and 5ish drawers, I get one) little drawer. It wasn't there last night, which means I'm pretty sure bitchface stuck it in there during her little cleaning spree this afternoon. And the amount of nasty it had in it (the remaining cauliflower bits plus accumulated moisture had gone bad) meant that it was well past the point where most people would just throw it away by the time she did so. Even if she thought I'd left it wherever she found it, what kind of miserable, tiny little excuse for a person would toss a moldy plastic bag into the drawer where I keep my food?

Other random incidence of hate: she's going up to St. Louis for a baby shower/birth/something of a friend weekend after next. And not once has she asked if I wanted to tag along. Even though I've sort of prodded a bit ("So where in St. Louis are you going, exactly?" type things). Which is funny, because when she was smarming up to my parents during move-in weekend, she specifically mentioned to them that she's got family up there too, so she'd probably be back and forth. The implication of her mentioning it to my parents being that I could come along, right? She wasn't just offering herself up for visits on her trips up near my home, was she?

It's not like I can just go to my RA or anything, because it's been pretty obvious that said RA really took a liking to the other three pretty quickly--they're the peppy, school spirit-y, go have a Cinderella dinner with the guys on the other side of the hall types like she is. Plus, RA = annoying fail! lab partner. Who chose Chelsea for floor president before even talking to any of the other people that said they were interested, but still made us all go in and talk to her while she pretended she hadn't already given the job away after the first interview. Yeah, doesn't work so much when she's my roommate and came back and told me immediately because she didn't know I wanted it as well. I really wanted to just blow of the meeting with the RA after that, as it was pretty much pointless, but I didn't want to piss her off, as I'm pretty sure she can make the rest of my year here a living hell. Even though I'm carrying her through my human genetics lab (actually, that's mostly why I'm still doing so without making snarky comments about why she's so useless in there).

So I'm in the stairwell on the roof landing atm, just to get away from them because I'm so fed up. I'm pretty sure she and Breanna were talking about me when I came in too (which would explain why they were acting so pointless when I was writing the first half of this post in there), so I hope they're having fun going back to that. I have no internets here, though, so I'll have to remember to hit post when I get back into the room. Which prolly won't be until my battery dies and I'm absolutely forced to. Except I have to pee, so maybe slightly before that.

Hate. This whole situation really sucks. Even though I'm really just starting to bitch about it now, it's been going on the entire time I've been here, just that little honeymoon phase was sort of making it not seem as bad. Now it's bad.