The Shower at Shiloh.

"Well, back into the torture chamber..."
-Ross Cantrell

Our shower is the greatest shower in existence. The above quote is in reference to our shower's unfailing quality of having the force of a jet engine firing knives of burning lava at your person.

let's start with the basics. hot showers rule. I got love for people who dig the cold shower, but it's not my thing. I like to start out with reasonably warm water and gradually, over the course of the next 20 minutes, turn the dial up until the heat makes it humanly impossible to survive. by the end of any normal shower I can expect to be exhausted from being tested by fire and proving my worth. so I love hot showers.


which brings us to Shiloh. The hot water is SO. HOT. it doesn't make sense. our shower uses the two-dial approach for temperature adjustments, so you have to get the correct setting between the Hot and Cold Dials in order to have a successful experience. however, this is impossible. this is because the dials are SUPER sensitive, and any adjustment whatsoever is either going to leave you a rotting corpse of ashes as you are instantly burned alive, or frozen solid as liquid ice (yes. LIQUID. ICE.) rains down, fusing your body with the tub in the blink of an eye. the reason all of this could hypothetically happen is that the sheer amount of water that comes from this showerhead defies the imagination. seriously, go ahead. turn it on. try it. as soon as you turn that dial, your life as you know it is over. water comes out of the showerhead so fast that five minutes' exposure of water to the opposing wall would likely cause massive erosion and threaten extinction of seventeen species of whale, including the narwhal which is endangered.

So the procedure for taking an effective shower at Shiloh is as follows:

1. Prepare psychologically. this is something you will not be ready for, and you need to be able to face the consequences if you suffer 3rd degree burns to the back or stomach.
2. map out the fastest way to the hospital, taking into consideration the time of day and present traffic conditions in the Fairfax area.
3. put on Biosuit.
4. have a bucket of cold water on hand in case a fire breaks out from the lava spewing from the showerhead.
5. fill out an emergency contact form and give it to one of the Shiloh Residents.
6. take out a ruler and turn the Hot dial 2cm to the left
7. take the same ruler and turn the Cold dial 1.5cm to the right
8. RUN.

In conclusion, messing with the Shiloh Shower is like messing with a grizzly bear.

now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

The Taming of the Sink

When I first moved into Shiloh the sink in the kitchen was a violent beast. It would spray water everywhere, and doing the dishes for the first time was definitely a helter-skelter endeavor, with water spewing haphazardly in a plethora of direction. By the end I was covered in water, along with the floor and the surrounding areas. I was fed up and refused to use it, even coming to the point of buying paper plates and plastic utensils. Most of the time we do not bother to choose the Grace of learning to love what frustrates us, and instead choose to avoid it entirely.

One day I fortuitously observed Nathan washing his cereal bowl, water splattering everywhere. Nathan churlishly hit the water faucet several times until a steady stream of water came pouring out. Without question I followed suit and began to mimic this technique. For the next several days I became proficient with this approach, and instinctively did it everytime. Most of the time we do not bother to know how something works, but simply that it does.

A few days later I was in the kitchen and once again observed Nathan crassly swatting the sink to work. Jon looked at him befuddled and walked over to the sink, gently pulled the spout out, and produced the same effect resulting in a consistent peaceful stream of water. All we had to do was learn how the sink worked to know how to treat it. Most of the time we do not realize that there is always a higher way of doing things, other than the way we do it.

The higher way is often a painful blow to us because we can be just as unruly and obstinate as the sink in our kitchen. We treat knowledge of the alternatives as the swatting of a hand to our face, and when we do eventually come to the point of a consistent stream, it is because we have been boorishly beaten into submission.

Most of us have heard the phrase "experience is the best teacher," taking to heart its erroneous claim. Benjamin Franklin wisely states the higher alternative, "Experience keeps a dear school, yet fools learn in no other." What this knowingly implies is that the best teacher is not your experience, even though good lessons are learned, but instead the experiences of others should be the seed of knowledge and the applicability will be the fruit. The best teacher is the experiences of others who have already done it.

When you allow yourself to be open to the gentle taming of the Divine, you are able to follow an example higher than your own and be like a consistent stream of water without the swatting of a hand across your face. Gentle guidance is only earned through consistent example. If you are living it right, then you are being observed by others, testing to see what way works and what way does not. But if you are living it righteous, then you are not just being observed and tested for flaws, you are being followed, because the way you learned not only works, but is contagious. The swatting of the faucet does not tame the sink, it destroys it, and will only work if you are there to beat it. The taming of the sink comes from the Grace of a gentle pull.


"This year, or this month, or, more likely, this very day, we have failed to practise ourselves the kind of behaviour we expect from other people."

C. S. Lewis


-Sher

Our Sink Employs the "Get water on everything except what you're aiming for" Method of Working

From gchat:
me:what should I write about today

Sherwin: maybe we should write about something from your perspective

and then my perspective

Sherwin: the violence of the sink

or the purple rugs that need to die already

me: that would be so tight

I'll write about the sink

yeah!

Sherwin: itll be like Vantage Point except not horrible

Our sink sucks.

As many of you know we don't have the cleanest sink. don't worry we had a roommate meeting (and by roommate meeting I mean we talked about photography and took pictures of random things in the kitchen for 45 minutes, discovered snow outside, and proceeded to drive around and do emergency-brake turns all through our neighborhood for an hour, then came back and went to sleep) and we're working on it. so if you're thinking of moving in, it's great! :)

When we first came to Shiloh I remember going over to the sink to get a glass of water. I was expecting a typical easy flow of water, but when I turned the sink on, fiery evil knives of water came shooting out in all directions. there was no "stream" or "tap" of water, but only a vicious "CHRREAAKKKKK" followed by "WHOOSH" and finally me yelling, "GAHH!!" as water got all over everything. the dishes, the table around the sink, my shirt, the floor, and I'm pretty sure water even hit my glasses. either that or it rained. only on my glasses. inside.

so we tried different techniques of getting around this problem, and tried to turn it on slow. but then water only drips from the edge of the spout, which is annoying. So one day I decided to smack it with my fist, and a perfect "shower-style" water pattern dripped elegantly into the sink. I of course flipped out and ran and told Sherwin how our sink finally works now, all you have to do is hit it! About a week later I'm in the kitchen with Jon, probably eating cereal and talking about how ironic it is that he was eating English Muffins, when I picked up my cereal bowl and took it over to the sink, turned it on, and slammed my fist down on the spigot, with rejoicing. Jon then looked at me puzzled and walked over next to me, turned off the sink, turned it back on, and gently pulled the spout, producing the very same result. perfect stream of water. then he laughed at me and I went into my room and cried and listened to Thursday. Just kidding. but that would've been pretty funny.

We had conquered the sink. It no longer had power over us. We could actually aim it at things in the sink and clean them!

at least, that's what we thought. one day, for no reason, the sink's spout reverted back to its true nature, and never returned from the Dark Side. Water spews in all directions now, and no amount of tugging, pulling, or slamming of fists alleviates our situation. it's virtually impossible to clean dishes with because it's so inaccurate. it defies physics. like, water comes out at 360 degrees. I can't explain it. in fact if you want to get a glass of water you have to put the cup literally over the spigot in order to have any hope of filling it up. It's pretty funny, and pretty annoying. Another thing that makes Shiloh the greatest house EVER!!

in other Shiloh-related NEWS (presented in sound byte form): Sherwin and I both had incredible weekends, Liz is funny, Nate Morris is SUPER geeky and sucks at life but is good at WoW, I find out that I'm an even bigger douche than I realized, Ross turns out to be a pretty good photographer, and we're all abstaining from seeing the Watchmen until Vinny comes in to town on Friday the 13th.

See ya!

Look. See. Feel. Do.

Every morning I usually walk from Metro Center to my building in Gallery Place. It's like clockwork the way I walk down F Street and make a left at 6th, that most times I don't even think about it. Today I was stopped by a friendly older gentleman who was late for a job interview and he needed directions to a building that was near my office. I offered to walk with him.

He initiated a conversation with me about my usual commute and my occupation. He would sometimes stop in mid conversation to point out something he noticed. He would say something about the colors of buildings, or of street names, and he had a funny way of saying good morning or smiling at everyone that crossed our path. After I had walked him to his building I began to realize how many things I did not notice about my familiar walk, or even how many people I pass every morning.

Boredom of the familiar does not come from a fullness of knowledge, it comes from an overabundance of pride. This results in stagnant growth and the selfish pursuit of greener grasses. When pride closes your eyes you see nothing but your own superiority and your disdain for the unfamiliar grows, simply because it would be an insult for you to not know it. Only when you turn your head upward and open your eyes do you see the entirety of the ever expanding unfamiliar. You are precisely placed for purposes higher than conventional reason, so look around.

-Sher

People Seriously Need to CHILL OUT on the Metro

Yesterday Sherwin and I rode the Metro. This is normal. Every morning we wake up and drive to the metro together. I stop at macpherson square, he gets of at metro center.

What was not normal was tuesday morning's events that created a perfect storm

of passive-aggressive metro douchiness that few humans have the pleasure of witnessing in their pitiful, frail lifetimes.

Allow me to begin. Sherwin and I's conversation on the metro every morning consists of me trying to avoid silence by being as loud as possible, and Sherwin just going along with it because you can't stop me. I hate it when people are stupid and quiet on the metro so I just counteract it by practically yelling. try it sometime, it's fun! Anyway we got on the train at Vienna and sat down in the chairs in the center of the seating area, which are the ones that are back-to-back with each other. We were having our normal, loud conversation. I think this time we were talking about how great The Watchmen is going to be and how we need to read the book before we see the movie next weekend. Then we started talking about how late we were every morning, and Sherwin said something to the effect of, "you should wake up early so you can...READ A BOOK or READ THE PAPER..." and I despised that comment because I perceive that as a yuppie trait that I refuse to take part in, so I said even louder than I had been talking before, "DON'T YOU PUT THAT ON ME SHERWIN, DON'T YOU EVER PUT THAT ON ME!" obviously I was joking but a woman in the seat directly behind us reared her passive aggressive head around and gave us a really long, exasperated "SHHHHHHHHHHH."

Sherwin and I lost it. We started laughing hysterically. Sherwin then proceeded to say, so that she could hear, "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?" and then "DOES THAT MEAN I HAVE TO BE QUIET OR JUST YOU?" and we tried to get a little louder as the train ride progressed. People started crowding. West Falls Church Station was jammed with people trying to get onto our train, so it filled up quickly. As many of you know, when a metro train gets filled to the brim, people start crowding the door, and inevitably some idiot doesn't realize their backpack is preventing the doors from closing, and Metro trains don't move if the doors can't close, so you have to sit there at the station waiting for this ridiculous person to realize how he's quickly ruining everyone's day by holding up the train, and the metro operator gets on the loudspeaker and says something like, "PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS." and flicks the doors closing sound a bunch of times until the train starts moving again.

but the best kind of Metro operator, the kind we had that fateful day, is the "teaching" metro operator. Here is a transcription of what the metro operator said:

"PLEASE STAND CLEAR OF THE DOORS. CUSTOMERS ON THE PLATFORM, PLEASE DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO THE SCREEN AND YOU WILL SEE THAT THERE IS ANOTHER ORANGE LINE TRAIN ONE MINUTE BEHIND THIS TRAIN. ONE MINUTE. CUSTOMERS ON THE TRAIN, THIS TRAIN WILL NOT MOVE UNTIL ALL THE DOORS ARE CLOSED, IF I CANNOT GET THE DOORS CLOSED I WILL HAVE TO OFFLOAD THIS TRAIN."

it was great, it was like watching a dad scold his child. I was so happy.

By the time we arrived at Rosslyn Station the train was PACKED full of people. Rosslyn is where a lot of people get on and a lot of people get off, and since no one talks on the metro, this is always a tricky station to overcome. so on this particular morning, on a particularly packed train, people were particularly pissed. As the train came to a stop, one of the ladies that was sitting behind us got up and yelled--literally yelled, "EXCUSE ME I NEED TO GET OUT, GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR PEOPLE. EXCUSE ME!" There was this guy in the door but he wasn't really in the way, and the chick who shhh'd us earlier mumbled under her breath, "he probably doesn't speak english" At this point sherwin whipped out the douchiest and most awesome comment I've ever heard in awhile: "it's okay, she was fat. she was really, really fat. I understand." Geez sherwin I didn't know you had it in ya. but for all you people who think sherwin sucks now you're wrong. I mean this woman was not small, and the dude wasn't really in the way.

That was our morning metro ride. but the fun didn't stop there.

on the way back I was by myself in another cramped car, just trying to make it home. it was a long day and I was ready for chillin. and this dude definitely let a huge fart go right before he got off the train. directly next to me. I mean it was lit up. I was actually impressed. but he's still a jerk.

Emcee MC

Flatlined

Last night Luke Rabin and I went to Buffalo Wing Factory in Chantilly to partake in their famous Flatliner challenge. These wings are made with a mixture of scotch bonnet peppers and mace. They are largely inedible, apart from the context of this challenge and no one without a proven resume of spicy eating should even attempt to eat these for fun. You will be humbled.

Luke and I along with my friend Janelle arived around 9PM where we met my other friends Scott and Adam. We sat down and a waiter stopped by to take our order. Luke immediately announced in proud declaration "I am doing the flatliner challenge. Can I have some milk and water" The waiter came back a few minute later and apologized for the restaurant running out of milk. Things looked grim but we trudged foward. I settled for water. Luke quickly got up and told the table "I need to get dressed." and the table responded with looks of puzzled confusion.

Luke comes back a few minutes later in a red bandanna and trucker style muscle shirt. The clearly jaded wait staff is not amused. Our waitress comes back with our orders and she puts down the Flatliners before our eyes, and immediately the smell hits...and hits. We winced in pain.

To the naked eye they look like any other restaurant hot wing entree. But to the open nostril they reek of death and descruction. My entire life flashed before my very eyes and I suddenly realized that I had not achieved everything I wanted to do with my life. This was the smell of life assessing contemplation, which is the best kind. It reaches far beyond supercilious notions of self awareness, and moves you to a place of self sacrifice and brings you one step closer to the grandeur of the sublime. If Luke and I could get through 10 wings, our lives would be changed forever. We started our journey.

The first bite is not so bad, even the second and third. "These aren't so bad," Luke commented.
It's when the scotch bonnet peppers and mace are introduced to your body and are invited to its innermost sanctums, given a drink and a leather chair and a leather bound book and then allowed to settle in, that is when chaos hits. When chaos hits your body, the first result is knowledge of pain, then the pain intensifies, and the aftermath is usually fear. This is what separates the brave, from the cowardly, and proves the genuineness of the desire of the targeted goal. Do you want it? We wanted it.

After wing 4# Luke and I were ready to call it quits. Our bodies were screaming mutiny and our own sweat was starting to burn our skin. My vision was blurred from the tears that burned out of my eyes. My mouth felt like I had just gargled with tiny needles and then swallowed. Luke fared no better and paced around the restaurant, unable to sit still. The wait staff looked at us in horror. They brought a trashcan and put it beside Luke's chair in the event of vomiting.

This is where Luke and I diverged on wildly different paths. Luke chose to go outside and finish his meal by a trashcan outside, unable to keep down 1 out of every 3 bites. I have run marathons and was on the crew team for almost two years. I know pain. And I know that it can be overcome most times by denial. You focus on a goal, and you deny the pain until it is completed, and you deal with the repurrcussions later. I chose to get it over with and eat the rest in quick succession. The last bite felt like a mixture of relief and the realization that the pain had only just begun. Victory was mine, but the results made it hollow. The goal was completed, yet the results had to catch up. I immediately began shaking in cold sweat and was unable to stop for the next few minutes.

Meanwhile Luke was inching towards the goal, barely able to maintain or swallow the food. Frustration and anger set in, but his determination only grew. He soon finished and we returned to the horror of the wait staff. The materialism of our self awareness returned and we acquiesced. Our selfish epiphanies drowned in a lake of fire, self sacrifice turned into survival. And we realized we couldn't save the world and that we were needy. We were exactly where we were suppose to be, and that we just needed to keep on moving. To be consistent through the pain, because someday, if you live it right, others will depend on you when they are needy. And if we let it, we can move out of denial towards the embrace of assurance, that pain is only a season, but the glory of the sublime will heal your wounds forever. We drank our water with joy.

-Sher

*Luke only puked once if you count a series of pukes in succession one puke.

Shiloh's Cereal Bowls are Absurd

I am a huge cereal fan.

oh yes, it's no secret. I love cereal! In fact, I eat so much cereal (between two and five bowls per sitting) that if I were to average out my cereal consumption, it would likely come to about two bowls of cereal for every day I have been living on This Green Earth. When I eat cereal I like to concurrently indulge in fine reading. I know what you're thinking. The only example of fine reading you can come up with is Calvin and Hobbes, supplemented solely by The Far Side Gallery 4, which is precisely what I read when I eat cereal! The Calvin and Hobbes/cereal combo is unstoppable. I mostly eat the classics: Pops, Golden Grahams, Frosted Flakes, Trix, and my personal favorite, Fruity Pebbles. But (and this is a verifiable fact) I cannot physically resist getting the newest cereals:

*at Safeway*
Jon: hey Nathan c'mon let's go you've been standing in the cereal aisle for 10 minutes, we've gotta pay for this stuff and get back to Shiloh.
Nathan: Well why don't YOU try to make a decision when you're faced with Lucky Charms or the New Golden Frosted Flakes! This is hard!!
Jon: guh. *walks away shaking head*

So anyway, it stands to reason that, enjoying the experience of eating cereal as much as I do, I'd need the hardware to match my consumption. You have to start thinking not only about WHAT you're eating, but HOW you're eating it. I'll give an example. When you eat Frosted Mini-Wheats, you don't need a deep spoon, because Frosted Mini-Wheats soaks up a ton of milk. The mini-wheat itself is the milk reservoir. if you use a deep spoon you're going to have too much milk per spoonful, resulting in an unpleasant cereal-eating experience. The cereal bowl similarly needs to fit certain criteria. If your bowl is too shallow, you won't be able to add enough milk, if it's too deep you'll get too much milk, and if the circumference is below a certain threshold, you won't be able to pour enough cereal to have a decent meal.

so tell me, why am I dealing with THIS------>
every day?

I don't know if you can tell from the picture or not, but this bowl has the walls of Jericho. That's right, I can't see over the edge, that's how high these bowls are. Impossible to eat cereal out of. you can never be quite sure whether or not you've put in too much milk or too much cereal. These are the Bowls of Shiloh, just another reason this house rules so much!! We have about 50 of these things. They look great, they feel nice, but they pretty much suck for eating cereal out of. And there's no decent alternative, so until I get off my lazy butt and pick up a few cool bowls from the local thrift store, I'll have to subject myself to these oversized chinese teacups. guh.

At this point I know what you're thinking: "Nathan stop complaining; at least you have cool spoons to eat cereal with." Oh, really? Have you been over here? Do you even know who I am? Have you looked at your misshapen bowl of cereal, wondering how it could get any worse, only to realize that
THESE THINGS---->
are all you have to work with?

I'm not sure if you can tell, but this spoon is flat. 100%. Flat. Imagine trying to eat cereal out of a bowl thats main purpose is grinding herbs, struggling against all odds to get any inkling of milk to water the parched tongue, only to realize you're using an undersized aluminum spatula. It's like in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie when the turtles are all in April's antique store getting the crap kicked out of them by the Foot when suddenly Master Tatsu flips on the light switch and rolls in with like 100 more Foot Clan with axes. "Someone should tell them...we're the good guys." That's the level of frustration we're dealing with here.

I'd like to close with some wisdom I've picked up over the years.
1.) Spend money on the things and people you appreciate.
2.) Devote time to learning all you can.
3.) Stop being so lazy and effing do something with your life.
4.) Hang out with people.
5.) Jesus is the reason I am alive right now, and if you knew what I knew, you would want to know him too.
6.) Cereal is awesome.

My last request is this: if anyone reading this gets the chance to throw down on some Lucky Charms anytime soon, do it, because I sure as H E double-chopsticks won't be able to.

with love, wishing I could sit down and eat some effing cereal,
Emcee Mission Control

The Mysterious Force

Let's talk about this morning, shall we, Sherwin?


So it's 7:20 AM, and I look through the window to a cloudy morning. Looking forward to a nice shower. I know I've got a big day ahead, and for a lot of reasons it's important that I smell decent. So I hop in the shower, wash my hair, make absolutely sure there is no stank about me. I hop out, dry off, brush my teeth, shave, and really make sure everything's ship-shape. Toss on some deodorant, throw on some of my best cologne, and walk out of the bathroom.

hold up.

something smelled nasty. like, really rank. I kept trying to walk away from it but it kept following me and I'm like what the H is going on? So I'm walking around gathering what I need for the day. Things like my backpack, jacket, things like that. all the while I can't figure out what smells so disgusting. Sherwin was pretty much ready to roll, just waiting for me to get my crap together so we could drive over to the metro. I decided not to eat anything before we left since we were already late; we walked to the car and started driving.

but the stench was still following me.

The whole ride to the metro I would only get casual whiffs of it...nothing really in my face, so I figured that whatever it was couldn't have been coming from the front side of me. I figured maybe I had stepped in something, but it didn't smell like dog poop or anything like that; what it smelled like was unshowered gross human feet. My shoes were on and tied tight and while I'm not the most hygienic person, I would say that my feet probably smelled great. So I pretty much ruled out my feet. Sherwin's feet seemed alright, I mean he had shoes on. So I kinda looked around the car a little bit but then remembered how I smelled it at Shiloh, not just in the car.

basically, I was baffled. And I was kinda freaked out, because I mean I needed to not smell gross today, and this was like an unknown biological terrorist strike to my person. Freaky.

So we parked at the metro parking deck and walked down to the station. All the while I'm trying to figure the freaking crap out. we went through the turnstile or whatever they call those metro things and grab a window and an aisle seat on the metro. we both put our bags on our laps. I notice that I'm carrying a backpack and sherwin is carrying his work bag.

immediately the stench returned. What follows is the conversation that occurred directly after we sat down:

Nathan: Sherwin, what is that smell?!
Sherwin: What smell?
Nathan: what do you mean what smell?! the smell that has been following us since Shiloh!!
Sherwin: I don't smell anything.
Nathan: no way dude, I'm going crazy. something is definitely after us. I am going to figure this out.

...

Nathan: ...sherwin what's in your bag?
Sherwin: oh you mean pandora?
Nathan: pandora? your bag's name is PANDORA?
Sherwin: dude you don't want to open that.
Nathan: YES, I DO WANT TO EFFING OPEN IT.
Sherwin: ooookayyyy...*opens the bag*
Nathan: SHERWIN, WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN THERE??
Sherwin: oh, just my workout clothes. *looks around in the bag, finds a couple of shirts and running shoes*
Nathan: your running shoes are in there?!?! holy CRAP that is FOUL dude!! close that bag!
Sherwin: I told you...
Nathan: wait a second. open the bag again... ...SHERWIN I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.
Sherwin: what?
Nathan: is that the NIKON CAMERA I LET YOU BORROW THAT'S NOT EVEN MINE??
Sherwin: I wrapped it in a clean t-shirt!
Nathan: SHERWIN!! YOU CAN'T PUT A CAMERA LIKE THAT IN A BAG WITH THAT MUCH STENCH!!! IT'S NOT EVEN MINE!!
Sherwin: I mean...
Nathan: why am I even letting you borrow it??
Sherwin: ...it's fine.
Nathan: gross, Sherwin. freaking get a new bag. that is so foul, I want to throw up. you're never taking that camera in that bag again. I will be in so much trouble if that camera smells like your shoes.


Just another day on the road to DC.

Shiloh is Quiet Sometimes Apparently

*shhhh....

*whispering:

it's really quiet here. sherwin's out at small group and Jon's downstairs reading something. probably CS Lewis or JRR Tolkien or something else English. I've been trying to mix some beats and clean my room a little...

Me, Ross, Vinny, and John Martin have all been listening to The Pains of Being Pure at Heart recently and basically going crazy over how awesome this band is. So of course I'm like JON JON YOU HAVE TO HEAR THIS BAND THEY SOUND LIKE AN ENGLISH TYPE BAND AND YOU GUYS ARE INTO THIS STUFF RIGHT, and so I showed it to Jon and he says, "the drummer sucks." that's all you can say Jon? This band rules!!

Which leads us to Today's Lesson: "Don't hate; participate."

In other news, Vinny bought Subway yesterday which exploded in his car which made his car smell like Subway, which I find hilarious. Also, Sherwin's room still smells like ferrets.

k thx cya

Nathan Sucks at Life

For all of you out there who think they suck at life, for those of you that think you are really mean to people, you are wrong. I am a sucky crappy person and a big douche. Andrew Gibbons has experienced my "accidental douchiness," where I don't mean to come across as douchy but I totally am. sorry about that andrew. but seriously. I got that note you see above today because I was being totally rude. and on top of it I gotta deal with this all the time:

and this:
my room + my life is in total disarray.