Today...

I realized that we have gone from 10 forks when I first moved in, to 1 fork remaining in this house. Or I'm sorry, I meant to say 1 fork remaining outside of Theo's room. He claims he doesn't have anymore forks. It's funny that he says that, because when I asked him if he had any forks in his room, he brought me knives, so I don't think he understands, or he plays dumb. Because he has definitely understood fork in the past, and now all the sudden he doesn't?

Also, yesterday, he came to get the vacuum out of my room. It's not heavy at all. I picked the entire thing up and brought it into my room, it was easy. It looks like a shop vac. The big round base and then the tube that hangs off. He comes down to get it, picks up the base after basically whining about it, and then tells me, "Okay, you help me take it up." I said, "Theo, it's not heavy. No." And then he pouted and took it up.

He's 27. To quote Wedding Crashers, he "looks like a little kid in Toys-R-Us."

I'm buying myself paper plates, plastic utensils and my own cups. If I never have to use anything in that kitchen again, I'm down with that. And I may have to be, because pretty soon there isn't gonna be jack shit left in the kitchen. I'm expecting to walk in there one day to see the stove and oven gone. Probably in Theo's room.

I cannot wait to never live with a roommate again. I'm not a huge clean freak. Is it so much to ask to rinse off your plate, throw some soap on it, scrub for 2 seconds and put it on the drying rack after you're done eating? I don't think so.

Oh, it's officially St. Patty's day here. Woopideedoo!

Goodnight.