Stan called me and told me that he had been sitting in his car for a long time. Why didn't he come back into house, you say? Apparently, he was too afraid to come out of his car because of the rain, thunder, and lightning. He was...too scared....to move....10 feet.
When he did come back inside, I was on the phone and very into my conversation on the phone. So... I didn't pay him any attention. But he really wanted my attention or something, so he knocked on my door frame and waved at me for a good minute. Until I waved him away.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Laundry and Music
Stan messaged me at work saying that he wanted to do laundry at 9 or 10 pm tonight. This isn't a huge concern to me, since I get home at the latest around 5. Regardless of whether or not he told me, if I had gotten home and done my laundry first, it gets done. For some reason, Stan thought that he "owned" the time slot from 9-10 pm and that if I was using the machines, I'd be encroaching on his time. Even if he hadn't told me beforehand.
I was listening to Rocketman in iTunes. My door was open.
Stan: "Good song."
Me: "Yup..." (common sense: "That's why I'm listening to it.")
Stan: "Rocketman."
Me: *thinking* "...did...he...just...tell me the name of the song...like I didn't know it?"
And remember, this is comment time, so whatever y'all want. I know two people are fine with what's being posted.
I was listening to Rocketman in iTunes. My door was open.
Stan: "Good song."
Me: "Yup..." (common sense: "That's why I'm listening to it.")
Stan: "Rocketman."
Me: *thinking* "...did...he...just...tell me the name of the song...like I didn't know it?"
And remember, this is comment time, so whatever y'all want. I know two people are fine with what's being posted.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
On Dishes and Comments
Stan approached me today about the dishes.
Stan: "Did you see?!?! The dishes are clean. I've been doing them after every meal."
Me: "Ok."
Forty five seconds of awkward silence followed, during which I realized that he was expecting a "thank you" for something he said he'd do like last week. And the week before that, technically.
Also, I've decided that I should do one post that's kinda dedicated to all the comments. I mean, I can't stop Stan from being himself, but I feel like sometimes the comments might get neglected. So, if there's anything you wanna know or if you'd like to hear a different story (one from before living with him, for example), let me know in the comments, and I'll try to answer them all for the next post.
Stan: "Did you see?!?! The dishes are clean. I've been doing them after every meal."
Me: "Ok."
Forty five seconds of awkward silence followed, during which I realized that he was expecting a "thank you" for something he said he'd do like last week. And the week before that, technically.
Also, I've decided that I should do one post that's kinda dedicated to all the comments. I mean, I can't stop Stan from being himself, but I feel like sometimes the comments might get neglected. So, if there's anything you wanna know or if you'd like to hear a different story (one from before living with him, for example), let me know in the comments, and I'll try to answer them all for the next post.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
More Apologies
Sorry guys, I know I missed my regular Monday update, but here's what's going on.
1. I had to eat lunch with him the other day. Probably one of the worst dining experiences ever...and I've been spit on, seen someone vomit at the table, and been surrounded by angry soccer moms with hyperactive children at McDonalds's. Thankfully, not all at the same meal. Stan eats...well....it's not so much chewing...the best analogy I can think of...is...imagine a front-loading washing machine with a clear door washing a load of colors. Just as colorful, visible, and loud.
2. At said lunch, I brought up the fact that I wasn't going to be home for a while after work. I was going to go to a farewell dinner for someone at work. I know I didn't know the guy who was leaving all that well, but I liked his company and his advice, so I thought I would pay my respects. I had emailed an RSVP several days in advance so that the dinner organizer could make reservations. This is what happened when I told him what I was doing that night.
Stan: "Really? There's a dinner for him?"
Me: "Yeah."
Stan: "Ok, I think I'll go to that."
Me: "....*thinking* The concept of reservations seems to escape him totally* Well, it's for an affinity group, so you'd be quite out of place."
Stan: "....Oh...ok."
3. At work, we are encouraged to go meet with people all over the site in order to raise awareness of who we are. My boss and several others told me to never speak to the higher ups, even though it is encouraged, unless I was solid about what I was doing and made everything look good. As such, I didn't hesitate to meet with people from other teams, departments, higher and lower rank people, no big deal. Stan has only singled out higher ups...I'm fairly certain he's wasting time, as there's only so much interest one can generate from getting a floor painted.
4. On the same topic, Stan wanted to babysit contractors as they painted the floor white. Because there's so much that can go wrong.
5. I arrived home today and found Stan outside the apartment on his phone. All of the lights were off in the apartment, so I assumed he was locked out. I assumed wrongly, thank God. However, there was a new problem:
Stan: "There's a toad at our door. Called Mr. Toad."
Me: "Ok..."
Stan: "Yeah, and he won't move."
Me: "Ok...*starts nudging toad with shoe*"
Stan: "No, that really doesn't work unless you step on him."
Me: *grabs short wood chip from garden, pushes toad away*
Stan: "Oh...yeah...I was going to do that."
I wonder why he didn't. It sure looked like he was outside for a LONG time...considering the lights inside the house were off...and he had been inside already to drop off mail.
6. Stan asked his boss about any trails nearby our house. He told Stan there was one, so he went to go look for it after work. He found it. He said he took a right off the road and wondered why everything became so bumpy. After a few minutes, he realized he was driving on the riverbank.
7. Stan said his boss came to work before him and left at the same time he did, leaving Stan to claim that he worked more hours than his boss. Normally, I'd just assume brain fart. Except he made that claim like three times in two minutes.
8. He's making his retirement account already. Seems smart? Isn't retirement account money locked away until a certain age? So...what happens before he turns gray and senile? Oop...well, gray at least.
9. Stan asked me if I ate dinner already. I'd like to assume that he doesn't think I'm like him.
10. Stan came into my room to announce that he gave his Windows PC the start up and shut down sounds that are installed on Macs. And he didn't want to confuse me. I'm confused as to why...he doesn't just buy a Mac if he apparently likes them so much.
1. I had to eat lunch with him the other day. Probably one of the worst dining experiences ever...and I've been spit on, seen someone vomit at the table, and been surrounded by angry soccer moms with hyperactive children at McDonalds's. Thankfully, not all at the same meal. Stan eats...well....it's not so much chewing...the best analogy I can think of...is...imagine a front-loading washing machine with a clear door washing a load of colors. Just as colorful, visible, and loud.
2. At said lunch, I brought up the fact that I wasn't going to be home for a while after work. I was going to go to a farewell dinner for someone at work. I know I didn't know the guy who was leaving all that well, but I liked his company and his advice, so I thought I would pay my respects. I had emailed an RSVP several days in advance so that the dinner organizer could make reservations. This is what happened when I told him what I was doing that night.
Stan: "Really? There's a dinner for him?"
Me: "Yeah."
Stan: "Ok, I think I'll go to that."
Me: "....*thinking* The concept of reservations seems to escape him totally* Well, it's for an affinity group, so you'd be quite out of place."
Stan: "....Oh...ok."
3. At work, we are encouraged to go meet with people all over the site in order to raise awareness of who we are. My boss and several others told me to never speak to the higher ups, even though it is encouraged, unless I was solid about what I was doing and made everything look good. As such, I didn't hesitate to meet with people from other teams, departments, higher and lower rank people, no big deal. Stan has only singled out higher ups...I'm fairly certain he's wasting time, as there's only so much interest one can generate from getting a floor painted.
4. On the same topic, Stan wanted to babysit contractors as they painted the floor white. Because there's so much that can go wrong.
5. I arrived home today and found Stan outside the apartment on his phone. All of the lights were off in the apartment, so I assumed he was locked out. I assumed wrongly, thank God. However, there was a new problem:
Stan: "There's a toad at our door. Called Mr. Toad."
Me: "Ok..."
Stan: "Yeah, and he won't move."
Me: "Ok...*starts nudging toad with shoe*"
Stan: "No, that really doesn't work unless you step on him."
Me: *grabs short wood chip from garden, pushes toad away*
Stan: "Oh...yeah...I was going to do that."
I wonder why he didn't. It sure looked like he was outside for a LONG time...considering the lights inside the house were off...and he had been inside already to drop off mail.
6. Stan asked his boss about any trails nearby our house. He told Stan there was one, so he went to go look for it after work. He found it. He said he took a right off the road and wondered why everything became so bumpy. After a few minutes, he realized he was driving on the riverbank.
7. Stan said his boss came to work before him and left at the same time he did, leaving Stan to claim that he worked more hours than his boss. Normally, I'd just assume brain fart. Except he made that claim like three times in two minutes.
8. He's making his retirement account already. Seems smart? Isn't retirement account money locked away until a certain age? So...what happens before he turns gray and senile? Oop...well, gray at least.
9. Stan asked me if I ate dinner already. I'd like to assume that he doesn't think I'm like him.
10. Stan came into my room to announce that he gave his Windows PC the start up and shut down sounds that are installed on Macs. And he didn't want to confuse me. I'm confused as to why...he doesn't just buy a Mac if he apparently likes them so much.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Gas Stoves
Stan: "Yeah, I had a lot of trouble with the gas stove. The first time I used it, and the way I learned how, was I played around with it for 15 minutes. I kept turning the knobs and eventually I was like 'Oh, you have to turn it all the way and it'll auto-ignite!'"
Me: "....No...I showed you how to use a gas stove." (and it took 45 seconds)
Stan: "...Oh, that's right."
Me: "....No...I showed you how to use a gas stove." (and it took 45 seconds)
Stan: "...Oh, that's right."
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Cooking
Stan doesn't use fans at all when he cooks. Although that doesn't explain why he turned OFF the exhaust fan and the ionized filter fan that were left on. But it does explain why the whole apartment smells like eggs. His sense of smell sucks because he can't sense it at all.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Big Macs
Yesterday, a young manager at work sat with Stan and I for lunch. We somehow ended up on the topic of McDonalds. The YM told us that one of the greatest combinations he had ever seen was the limited tim Double Big Mac Combo. It's 2 Big Mac's for really cheap. He always needed a drink, so he also got the Sweet Tea. The same YM said that he could never finish 2 Big Mac's, so he saved one for dinner for the next day. Of course, after lunch, we all went back to work. I ended up home earlier than Stan (as usual, since he likes to wait and sit around/do nothing), but when he did get home, we had our confrontation about him doing dishes. He had claimed that he hadn't eaten his dinner yet, and that was why he couldn't do the dishes. Yet...there he was...holding a bag from McDonalds. You can guess what was inside. Yes, he had gotten the Double Big Mac combo with a Sweet Tea.
That was yesterday. Now, what's particularly boggling is what happened today:
Stan: "Oh wow, that was amazing!"
Me: "..."
Stan: "I discovered the greatest thing ever!"
Me: "...Ok, first of all, you're 6 feet away, you can stop yelling."
Stan: "You can get a Double Big Mac combo and a Sweet Tea for really cheap and it keeps for a day! So good."
Me: "....Yeah...you definitely did not discover that since the young manager told us that yesterday at lunch. And he recommended that we try it."
Stan: "No. No. I discovered it. He talked about it, but I went out and found the truth. This is what I do at work too; people may tell me things or how to do something, but I'm the one who does everything."
Me: "..."
I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. When our internet wasn't working, I tried for 3 days on the router and software side to get them fixed. When Stan showed up, he had no idea how to do anything, so he called his grandfather, who told him how to wire up and test everything on the house side of the connection. After he got a working connection, he ended his conversation with his grandfather, and I went and configured everything to work with the routers and software since he had no idea what he was doing. For example, the router/modem that we used had a very weak wifi signal, so I connected a stronger router to it and configured passwords and everything. The router called for a 128 bit password, and only a 128 bit password. Stan's computer could not recognize 128 bit passwords and kept popping up with an error message saying that the password was too long for a 64 bit key. He came over and asked me 5 times why it was screwed up and if I was doing anything wrong. Eventually, I had to show him the process of what I did and prove to him that he had to use a 128 bit password.
Anyway, we did get the internet working. When we found out the next day that every person who lived there and worked at our office could never get the internet working, he didn't hesitate to say that he fixed it.
I think...on the last post of this blog...I will reveal identities. Either that or when I know I won't see him again.
That was yesterday. Now, what's particularly boggling is what happened today:
Stan: "Oh wow, that was amazing!"
Me: "..."
Stan: "I discovered the greatest thing ever!"
Me: "...Ok, first of all, you're 6 feet away, you can stop yelling."
Stan: "You can get a Double Big Mac combo and a Sweet Tea for really cheap and it keeps for a day! So good."
Me: "....Yeah...you definitely did not discover that since the young manager told us that yesterday at lunch. And he recommended that we try it."
Stan: "No. No. I discovered it. He talked about it, but I went out and found the truth. This is what I do at work too; people may tell me things or how to do something, but I'm the one who does everything."
Me: "..."
I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. When our internet wasn't working, I tried for 3 days on the router and software side to get them fixed. When Stan showed up, he had no idea how to do anything, so he called his grandfather, who told him how to wire up and test everything on the house side of the connection. After he got a working connection, he ended his conversation with his grandfather, and I went and configured everything to work with the routers and software since he had no idea what he was doing. For example, the router/modem that we used had a very weak wifi signal, so I connected a stronger router to it and configured passwords and everything. The router called for a 128 bit password, and only a 128 bit password. Stan's computer could not recognize 128 bit passwords and kept popping up with an error message saying that the password was too long for a 64 bit key. He came over and asked me 5 times why it was screwed up and if I was doing anything wrong. Eventually, I had to show him the process of what I did and prove to him that he had to use a 128 bit password.
Anyway, we did get the internet working. When we found out the next day that every person who lived there and worked at our office could never get the internet working, he didn't hesitate to say that he fixed it.
I think...on the last post of this blog...I will reveal identities. Either that or when I know I won't see him again.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Stalker?
When we returned this weekend, we found that we were locked out of half the house. I had arrived first and realized that I wouldn't be able to do my laundry. Because of the tininess of my room, I decided to leave the luggage with dirty clothes out in the hallway between our rooms. Allow me a diagram.
Stan's Door|-----------------------@luggage@@@@--------|My door
Stan got here maybe 40 minutes after me. When he realized the door was locked (he wanted to do laundry too) he came storming to my room.
Stan (while on phone): "Did you know that the door is locked?"
Me: "Yes, I did."
Stan: "Did you call the landlord?"
Me: "Nope, I was busy unpacking (and still was doing so at this point). I can-"
Stan: "I'll call her."
Me: *thinking* "I'll give him his moment..." "Ok, call her."
Stan: "Right after I call my grandparents."
He proceeded to have a very curt conversation with them, so curt he pretty much hung up on them at the end, and then he called our landlord. Now Stan doesn't have the knack for having normal volume conversation, so I can hear him on his phone from down the hall. And it's obvious from his speaking/yelling that he has been forwarded to voicemail. Obviously, I heard every word, but he came and told me that he only got her voicemail. Followed by him coming back to my open door, so I can see and hear everything that he does, and saying:
Stan: "Yeah, she hasn't called me back, but I'll forward the information to you when I find out more."
Me: *clearly on my way to the shower* "Great."
You may be asking why I gave you a diagram above. Refer back to it now. While I was heading to the shower, Stan confronted me.
Stan: "Can you move the luggage? I'm afraid I might trip over it."
The distance...from his door to the luggage...is 1.5 of his steps. Basically, he would have to be trying to kick the luggage in order to kick the luggage. It is also directly in front of my door.
Me: "...You want me to move it...even though...it's pretty much on my side?"
Stan: "I'm afraid that I'll go to the bathroom during the night and trip over it."
Me: "..."
Stan: "I mean, I don't have a problem with putting it in the living room."
Me (thinking): "No, of course not, it's my stuff, and I do have a problem with putting the luggage there."
Anyway, I get out of the shower and get dressed. My door is open again. Stan...felt the need to update me at 1130 with the fact that our landlord had not called back.
I believe he's trying to have a competition with me over who can stay/work the longest at work. I really don't see the point of this competition. He's told me every detail of all of his projects and his current status on all of them is:
Project 1: Waiting for funding
Project 2: Waiting for info
Project 3: Waiting for info
Project 4: Waiting for people to get back to him
Basically, he pretty much sits in his office all day doing nothing. Sorry, I take that back. I can empirically prove my previous statement wrong. I was on the floor at 515 pm, almost 11 hours after I arrived at work, and I was talking with vendors. I saw Stan walk by, looking very lost and confused...in his own department. He saw me and started walking over, but I was clearly very busy, so he didn't try to talk to me. Thus, Stan doesn't just sit in his office. He walks around looking stupid too.
Later today, our landlord did come back and open the door for us. It had been an accident that the door was locked. In order to go to our rooms, we have to pass this very conspicuous door after we walk into the apartment. I sat in my room and just relaxed at my computer when he came home and knocked annoyingly on my door to tell me he got back.
Me: "Yeah, the landlord came and unlocked the door. Said it was an accident."
Stan: "Really? I'll have to go back and check."
I just...don't understand...how he could have missed the door on his way in. Well...to be fair, it has a large window...so maybe he's like a bird and just didn't realize the clear part was a "wall."
Stan then told me that he had to stop to let wild turkeys pass in front of him. He asked, in a bragging voice, if I had seen the turkeys at all. Well...I had told him on the first day that I had seen them...so now...
Me: "Yeah...I saw them on the first day here, I told you already."
Stan: "Yeah...I also saw a deer. It ran away. From my huge 4 cylinder SUV."
When Stan did his laundry today, he came to my room with a HUGE revelation.
Stan: "DID YOU KNOW THAT ALL WASHERS HAVE THE HINGE ON THE LEFT?"
Me: "....No...they don't....they're user-adjustable..."
Stan: "But they're ALWAYS on the left side. Dryers are ALWAYS on the right side. I've NEVER seen it any other way."
Me: "Well...I have it the other way at home...You seriously just need to get a screwdriver to change it."
Stan: "Well, no one I know has the hinge on the right."
I confronted Stan about his not washing the dishes. I let him get away with it in the beginning. Then I realized that he wasn't gonna do them...I realized this when he filled a sink with dirty dishes and just kept adding more. After I confronted him the first time, he said he'd wash the dishes once a day. Fine, I thought, better than once a week. He was good about it for a week. Then, he let everything sit. He didn't even rinse stuff out. He had drank milk in a glass and instead of rinsing the glass, he just poured water in it and let it sit for 4 days. With milk-water. That was going bad. So tonight:
Me: "Dude, do the dishes."
Stan: "But I haven't eaten dinner yet (1030)."
Me: "Do them after dinner, then do them after every meal."
Stan: "Why?"
Me: "Because you aren't cleaning them at all."
Stan: "I'm rinsing things out!"
Me: "No...your breakfast is literally in the sink...and before that you had a glass of milk that you just poured water into and let sit for 4 days as a milkwater filled glass. So it really is just easier to do them after every meal, so just do it that way."
Stan: "Even after breakfast?"
Me: (thinking: wtf...yes breakfast is a meal...are you that retarded?) "Yeah, it's not that hard, it takes like 5 minutes."
So why is he a stalker? Stan looked up my SN somewhere just to tell me that his clothes needed drying. He couldn't just tell me.
Stan's Door|-----------------------@luggage@@@@--------|My door
Stan got here maybe 40 minutes after me. When he realized the door was locked (he wanted to do laundry too) he came storming to my room.
Stan (while on phone): "Did you know that the door is locked?"
Me: "Yes, I did."
Stan: "Did you call the landlord?"
Me: "Nope, I was busy unpacking (and still was doing so at this point). I can-"
Stan: "I'll call her."
Me: *thinking* "I'll give him his moment..." "Ok, call her."
Stan: "Right after I call my grandparents."
He proceeded to have a very curt conversation with them, so curt he pretty much hung up on them at the end, and then he called our landlord. Now Stan doesn't have the knack for having normal volume conversation, so I can hear him on his phone from down the hall. And it's obvious from his speaking/yelling that he has been forwarded to voicemail. Obviously, I heard every word, but he came and told me that he only got her voicemail. Followed by him coming back to my open door, so I can see and hear everything that he does, and saying:
Stan: "Yeah, she hasn't called me back, but I'll forward the information to you when I find out more."
Me: *clearly on my way to the shower* "Great."
You may be asking why I gave you a diagram above. Refer back to it now. While I was heading to the shower, Stan confronted me.
Stan: "Can you move the luggage? I'm afraid I might trip over it."
The distance...from his door to the luggage...is 1.5 of his steps. Basically, he would have to be trying to kick the luggage in order to kick the luggage. It is also directly in front of my door.
Me: "...You want me to move it...even though...it's pretty much on my side?"
Stan: "I'm afraid that I'll go to the bathroom during the night and trip over it."
Me: "..."
Stan: "I mean, I don't have a problem with putting it in the living room."
Me (thinking): "No, of course not, it's my stuff, and I do have a problem with putting the luggage there."
Anyway, I get out of the shower and get dressed. My door is open again. Stan...felt the need to update me at 1130 with the fact that our landlord had not called back.
I believe he's trying to have a competition with me over who can stay/work the longest at work. I really don't see the point of this competition. He's told me every detail of all of his projects and his current status on all of them is:
Project 1: Waiting for funding
Project 2: Waiting for info
Project 3: Waiting for info
Project 4: Waiting for people to get back to him
Basically, he pretty much sits in his office all day doing nothing. Sorry, I take that back. I can empirically prove my previous statement wrong. I was on the floor at 515 pm, almost 11 hours after I arrived at work, and I was talking with vendors. I saw Stan walk by, looking very lost and confused...in his own department. He saw me and started walking over, but I was clearly very busy, so he didn't try to talk to me. Thus, Stan doesn't just sit in his office. He walks around looking stupid too.
Later today, our landlord did come back and open the door for us. It had been an accident that the door was locked. In order to go to our rooms, we have to pass this very conspicuous door after we walk into the apartment. I sat in my room and just relaxed at my computer when he came home and knocked annoyingly on my door to tell me he got back.
Me: "Yeah, the landlord came and unlocked the door. Said it was an accident."
Stan: "Really? I'll have to go back and check."
I just...don't understand...how he could have missed the door on his way in. Well...to be fair, it has a large window...so maybe he's like a bird and just didn't realize the clear part was a "wall."
Stan then told me that he had to stop to let wild turkeys pass in front of him. He asked, in a bragging voice, if I had seen the turkeys at all. Well...I had told him on the first day that I had seen them...so now...
Me: "Yeah...I saw them on the first day here, I told you already."
Stan: "Yeah...I also saw a deer. It ran away. From my huge 4 cylinder SUV."
When Stan did his laundry today, he came to my room with a HUGE revelation.
Stan: "DID YOU KNOW THAT ALL WASHERS HAVE THE HINGE ON THE LEFT?"
Me: "....No...they don't....they're user-adjustable..."
Stan: "But they're ALWAYS on the left side. Dryers are ALWAYS on the right side. I've NEVER seen it any other way."
Me: "Well...I have it the other way at home...You seriously just need to get a screwdriver to change it."
Stan: "Well, no one I know has the hinge on the right."
I confronted Stan about his not washing the dishes. I let him get away with it in the beginning. Then I realized that he wasn't gonna do them...I realized this when he filled a sink with dirty dishes and just kept adding more. After I confronted him the first time, he said he'd wash the dishes once a day. Fine, I thought, better than once a week. He was good about it for a week. Then, he let everything sit. He didn't even rinse stuff out. He had drank milk in a glass and instead of rinsing the glass, he just poured water in it and let it sit for 4 days. With milk-water. That was going bad. So tonight:
Me: "Dude, do the dishes."
Stan: "But I haven't eaten dinner yet (1030)."
Me: "Do them after dinner, then do them after every meal."
Stan: "Why?"
Me: "Because you aren't cleaning them at all."
Stan: "I'm rinsing things out!"
Me: "No...your breakfast is literally in the sink...and before that you had a glass of milk that you just poured water into and let sit for 4 days as a milkwater filled glass. So it really is just easier to do them after every meal, so just do it that way."
Stan: "Even after breakfast?"
Me: (thinking: wtf...yes breakfast is a meal...are you that retarded?) "Yeah, it's not that hard, it takes like 5 minutes."
So why is he a stalker? Stan looked up my SN somewhere just to tell me that his clothes needed drying. He couldn't just tell me.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Guiltless
Yeah...so...I totally...do not feel guilty about this blog anymore. Reason follows
Stan and I realized that the toilet was not flushing. I had gone to the bathroom right before I went to work and it didn't flush fully. He confirmed that it hadn't flushed fully when he had gone before I did. He said he'd buy a plunger on the way back home from work.
Stan: "So I'll drop by WalMart and get one."
Me: "Great."
Stan: "How was your shower last night?"
Me: "Fine...normal."
After a minute of awkward silence I realized that this was not related to the flushing/plumbing problem as I thought...he was actually trying to have a conversation based on my shower.
Me: "Was the shower normal this morning?"
Stan: "I don't know, I didn't shower yet."
He had to be at work in like 30 minutes....work is a 15-20 minute drive, and he hadn't started breakfast yet.
Me: "Ok, I gotta go."
I come back home and there's a smoldering fire in the backyard.
Stan: "Yeah, our landlady just burns all of her boxes since they take so much room...and I'm watching to make sure the fire burns ok. I like fire."
Me: "That's great, listen, don't you think it's extremely wasteful that she burns the boxes? They're recyclable..."
Stan: *Shrug* "It's her house."
Me: *thinking* "Wow...worst logic ever...because it's still our environment...and house."
Me: *spoken* "...Ok, I'm going inside."
So here is why I don't feel guilty anymore. Stan did get a plunger as he said he would, and he managed to get the toilet working again.
Me: "Yeah, dude it's really not a HUGE deal. I'm sure our landlady would understand if we used one of her bathrooms in the actual house...especially since she's not here most of the time...and one upstairs does actually work. I mean, we want OUR toilet fixed, but if the situation calls for it..."
Stan: "Right. I just want our own fixed."
Me: *thinking* "I just said that."
*20 Minutes Later*
Stan walked by on the phone...and I paused my music to watch a video online. During that silence
Stan: "Yeah, so [My Name] was against fixing the toilet, he just wanted to use one of the landlord's. But I was like 'NO, that's not right, we need to fix it.' So I did."
Me: *thinking* "Wtf...I cannot believe...you just told a bold-faced lie. Man...fuck you...so much crap about you, it's ridiculous."
I actually will tell him about this blog when it's not needed anymore. I really don't care.
*edit*
Almost forgot. Stan shaves about every morning. With an electric razor. And he does this ridiculously hideous thing where he shaves over the sink, but lets the hair sit there. All day. And it's a lot of hair, so I kinda doubt he's shaving just his face. Dude is hairy...I have seen him without a shirt on. Anyway, he did this once...then he shaved over the garbage bag...which I thought he would keep doing. Nope...he went back to over the sink and leaving the hair there. So I confronted him about it.
Me: "Stan, you really need to wash the hair down the sink. It's gross."
Stan: "*defensive* But it's an electric razor! It's supposed to catch all of it! *points to the "catching strip*"
Me: ".....*mumble* what the fuck is wrong with this kid *in normal voice* Yeah...well..it's clearly NOT working...and it's gross."
Stan: "...Ok...I'll do that."
Stan also drove to the "biggest [something in the state we're in]," but he decided to park far away from it and walk over. When he got there, he found the scenic overlook/parking lot. On the highway. The one he had to take to get there.
*end edit*
Stan and I realized that the toilet was not flushing. I had gone to the bathroom right before I went to work and it didn't flush fully. He confirmed that it hadn't flushed fully when he had gone before I did. He said he'd buy a plunger on the way back home from work.
Stan: "So I'll drop by WalMart and get one."
Me: "Great."
Stan: "How was your shower last night?"
Me: "Fine...normal."
After a minute of awkward silence I realized that this was not related to the flushing/plumbing problem as I thought...he was actually trying to have a conversation based on my shower.
Me: "Was the shower normal this morning?"
Stan: "I don't know, I didn't shower yet."
He had to be at work in like 30 minutes....work is a 15-20 minute drive, and he hadn't started breakfast yet.
Me: "Ok, I gotta go."
I come back home and there's a smoldering fire in the backyard.
Stan: "Yeah, our landlady just burns all of her boxes since they take so much room...and I'm watching to make sure the fire burns ok. I like fire."
Me: "That's great, listen, don't you think it's extremely wasteful that she burns the boxes? They're recyclable..."
Stan: *Shrug* "It's her house."
Me: *thinking* "Wow...worst logic ever...because it's still our environment...and house."
Me: *spoken* "...Ok, I'm going inside."
So here is why I don't feel guilty anymore. Stan did get a plunger as he said he would, and he managed to get the toilet working again.
Me: "Yeah, dude it's really not a HUGE deal. I'm sure our landlady would understand if we used one of her bathrooms in the actual house...especially since she's not here most of the time...and one upstairs does actually work. I mean, we want OUR toilet fixed, but if the situation calls for it..."
Stan: "Right. I just want our own fixed."
Me: *thinking* "I just said that."
*20 Minutes Later*
Stan walked by on the phone...and I paused my music to watch a video online. During that silence
Stan: "Yeah, so [My Name] was against fixing the toilet, he just wanted to use one of the landlord's. But I was like 'NO, that's not right, we need to fix it.' So I did."
Me: *thinking* "Wtf...I cannot believe...you just told a bold-faced lie. Man...fuck you...so much crap about you, it's ridiculous."
I actually will tell him about this blog when it's not needed anymore. I really don't care.
*edit*
Almost forgot. Stan shaves about every morning. With an electric razor. And he does this ridiculously hideous thing where he shaves over the sink, but lets the hair sit there. All day. And it's a lot of hair, so I kinda doubt he's shaving just his face. Dude is hairy...I have seen him without a shirt on. Anyway, he did this once...then he shaved over the garbage bag...which I thought he would keep doing. Nope...he went back to over the sink and leaving the hair there. So I confronted him about it.
Me: "Stan, you really need to wash the hair down the sink. It's gross."
Stan: "*defensive* But it's an electric razor! It's supposed to catch all of it! *points to the "catching strip*"
Me: ".....*mumble* what the fuck is wrong with this kid *in normal voice* Yeah...well..it's clearly NOT working...and it's gross."
Stan: "...Ok...I'll do that."
Stan also drove to the "biggest [something in the state we're in]," but he decided to park far away from it and walk over. When he got there, he found the scenic overlook/parking lot. On the highway. The one he had to take to get there.
*end edit*
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Another Big Update
Sorry guys, I was out of town last weekend and I totally forgot to post what happened. So here is another big update
1. Computers are important in corporate life, but we don't have a real corporate environment. Thus, OS upgrades aren't really necessary here at work. Most people only require that the computer 1. works and 2. has a GUI to enable people TO work. One of the IT guys here was complaining that everything would soon have to be updated to Vista. A good complaint, and one I agreed with. I had seen the machines, and they didn't need the fancy graphics. Stan agreed. But he went so far as to say "the machines here don't need anything, they should just run DOS."
2. Not too long after that statement, we had to work on payroll. We both had checkbooks and we only needed our account numbers and the bank routing numbers. Both of which are on the checks. It took me about 4 minutes to enter my bank information into our database. It took Stan 30...with calls to his parents...the bank...and looking stuff up on Google. But I guess I'm being unfair. My checkbook had a sample blank check that said explicitly "here is where the bank routing number is" and gave an X digit number. It then said "here is where your account number is on each check" and gave a Y digit number. So...2 sequences of numbers. Stan had 3 sequences. The 3rd one? That number told him which check he was using. As in "1st of this book...2nd of this book..."
3. Stan told me one night that something came up with the office's doctor. He told me he'd have to wake up and leave early the next day. He said he had to be at work at 5:30 am and that I shouldn't be scared if I heard a bunch of noise very early in the morning. Imagine my surprise the next morning when I woke up and ate breakfast...and saw him leaving his room at 5:40.
Me: "I thought you had to be at work at 5:30?"
Stan: "....nooooooo....why would you think that?"
Me: "You told me..."
Stan: "Well, I had to be at work at 6."
Me: "...."
Stan: " *with a high and mighty tone* But 6 is very different from 5:30."
Me: "Yeah...I know..."
Stan: "....Hmm...I don't remember what I said last night."
4. Also, I forgot to mention this...but we had a security training session...and we got to the technology part.
Stan: "Question."
Trainer: "Yes?"
Stan: *throws keys onto table*
*Awkard silence for 25 seconds*
*Me and the trainer realize that Stan has a flash drive on his keychain...along with 25 keys.*
Trainer: "Flash drives?"
Stan: "Yes."
5. This one is a MULTIPARTER
Stan has a friend that goes to college like an hour from here. She's one of the people he talks to everyday for so long. Stan kept saying "I'll come visit" and they plan a day, but she always has a reason why he can't visit that day. The first time, she got sick. The second time, she pulled an all-nighter the night before and wanted to sleep. But THIS time...Stan called her and woke her up....the talk for a bit, and he eventually finds out he's able to go...probably because she felt guilty. I mean, I won't lie....I feel guilty writing this stuff sometimes...but then...he speaks...anyway, he hangs up and proceeds to brush his hair, neaten his clothes, and brush his teeth. Basically, prepping himself to look nice....as if he's going to get lucky. He then comes to my room:
Stan: "Hey, so I'm going out now."
Me: "Ok..."
Stan: "The plan is that I'll be coming back home tonight, but I really don't know...I might stay over there."
Me: "...ok..."
Stan: "Yeah, so if I end up staying over, I'll give you a call so you're not worried."
Me: "Ok."
Stan: "Yeah, but I have my work stuff with me so don't worry."
Me: "Ok."
Stan: "Yeah, were you a Boy Scout?"
Me: "No...but I get it...'always b-'"
Stan: "Well, they have a motto called 'Always be prepared.' So I'm keeping to that."
Me: "Great."
Then he left. After about 45 seconds of peace and quiet, he called my cell phone.
Stan: "I think I forgot to shut the door. Can you get it? *hang up*"
And, no, he didn't forget, the door was shut. But still.
I was all alone for a few hours...later that night I went to shower...I came out and he was sitting on the couch, holding his cell phone, totally silent. I guess he tried something and made his visit awkward, since he didn't talk to anybody that night.
6. Stan came to me and bragged about his work projects...he then bragged about something else:
Stan: "I heard people talking about me behind my back today."
Me: "....ok...what'd they say?"
Stan: "I don't know, I didn't hear everything...just '...kid from Cornell...'. So I don't know if they were saying bad or good things, but hey, they're talking about me."
Me: "Right."
Stan: "Yeah, you're nothing without your name. I like that. I just made that up, it should be a quote."
7. We saw the newer version of his car in the parking lot. Stan went and started talking about the blind spots in his car.
Stan: "Yeah, so I really hate the blindspots on the newer version."
Me: "I see...aren't there blindspots on your car?"
Stan: "Yes, but they're not that bad."
Me: "Ahh..so...you've driven the new one and didn't like the new blindspots?"
Stan: "No, I've never driven the car."
Me: "....ok...how do you know about the blindspots...?"
Stan: "I read about them in magazines."
Me: "...so how do you know that you personally hate the blindspots if you've never even seen the car in person til now?"
Stan: "..."
8. See how I said below that he's proud of his executive board position? Last time we talked about an email deluge, he actually complained about getting emails related to his position. He said he didn't care and that he shouldn't have to worry about that stuff while he was away. He said he was content with having other people do his job for him. If he says it again, I will notify the board, because he was given the position under the clause that he would work while away.
9. Stan was yelling at his friend about housing for next year. His friend didn't like how much the rent was.
Stan: "Ok, so how much are you paying now?"
Phone: "$490."
Stan: "$490? Ok, so with inflation, that's $500."
1. Computers are important in corporate life, but we don't have a real corporate environment. Thus, OS upgrades aren't really necessary here at work. Most people only require that the computer 1. works and 2. has a GUI to enable people TO work. One of the IT guys here was complaining that everything would soon have to be updated to Vista. A good complaint, and one I agreed with. I had seen the machines, and they didn't need the fancy graphics. Stan agreed. But he went so far as to say "the machines here don't need anything, they should just run DOS."
2. Not too long after that statement, we had to work on payroll. We both had checkbooks and we only needed our account numbers and the bank routing numbers. Both of which are on the checks. It took me about 4 minutes to enter my bank information into our database. It took Stan 30...with calls to his parents...the bank...and looking stuff up on Google. But I guess I'm being unfair. My checkbook had a sample blank check that said explicitly "here is where the bank routing number is" and gave an X digit number. It then said "here is where your account number is on each check" and gave a Y digit number. So...2 sequences of numbers. Stan had 3 sequences. The 3rd one? That number told him which check he was using. As in "1st of this book...2nd of this book..."
3. Stan told me one night that something came up with the office's doctor. He told me he'd have to wake up and leave early the next day. He said he had to be at work at 5:30 am and that I shouldn't be scared if I heard a bunch of noise very early in the morning. Imagine my surprise the next morning when I woke up and ate breakfast...and saw him leaving his room at 5:40.
Me: "I thought you had to be at work at 5:30?"
Stan: "....nooooooo....why would you think that?"
Me: "You told me..."
Stan: "Well, I had to be at work at 6."
Me: "...."
Stan: " *with a high and mighty tone* But 6 is very different from 5:30."
Me: "Yeah...I know..."
Stan: "....Hmm...I don't remember what I said last night."
4. Also, I forgot to mention this...but we had a security training session...and we got to the technology part.
Stan: "Question."
Trainer: "Yes?"
Stan: *throws keys onto table*
*Awkard silence for 25 seconds*
*Me and the trainer realize that Stan has a flash drive on his keychain...along with 25 keys.*
Trainer: "Flash drives?"
Stan: "Yes."
5. This one is a MULTIPARTER
Stan has a friend that goes to college like an hour from here. She's one of the people he talks to everyday for so long. Stan kept saying "I'll come visit" and they plan a day, but she always has a reason why he can't visit that day. The first time, she got sick. The second time, she pulled an all-nighter the night before and wanted to sleep. But THIS time...Stan called her and woke her up....the talk for a bit, and he eventually finds out he's able to go...probably because she felt guilty. I mean, I won't lie....I feel guilty writing this stuff sometimes...but then...he speaks...anyway, he hangs up and proceeds to brush his hair, neaten his clothes, and brush his teeth. Basically, prepping himself to look nice....as if he's going to get lucky. He then comes to my room:
Stan: "Hey, so I'm going out now."
Me: "Ok..."
Stan: "The plan is that I'll be coming back home tonight, but I really don't know...I might stay over there."
Me: "...ok..."
Stan: "Yeah, so if I end up staying over, I'll give you a call so you're not worried."
Me: "Ok."
Stan: "Yeah, but I have my work stuff with me so don't worry."
Me: "Ok."
Stan: "Yeah, were you a Boy Scout?"
Me: "No...but I get it...'always b-'"
Stan: "Well, they have a motto called 'Always be prepared.' So I'm keeping to that."
Me: "Great."
Then he left. After about 45 seconds of peace and quiet, he called my cell phone.
Stan: "I think I forgot to shut the door. Can you get it? *hang up*"
And, no, he didn't forget, the door was shut. But still.
I was all alone for a few hours...later that night I went to shower...I came out and he was sitting on the couch, holding his cell phone, totally silent. I guess he tried something and made his visit awkward, since he didn't talk to anybody that night.
6. Stan came to me and bragged about his work projects...he then bragged about something else:
Stan: "I heard people talking about me behind my back today."
Me: "....ok...what'd they say?"
Stan: "I don't know, I didn't hear everything...just '...kid from Cornell...'. So I don't know if they were saying bad or good things, but hey, they're talking about me."
Me: "Right."
Stan: "Yeah, you're nothing without your name. I like that. I just made that up, it should be a quote."
7. We saw the newer version of his car in the parking lot. Stan went and started talking about the blind spots in his car.
Stan: "Yeah, so I really hate the blindspots on the newer version."
Me: "I see...aren't there blindspots on your car?"
Stan: "Yes, but they're not that bad."
Me: "Ahh..so...you've driven the new one and didn't like the new blindspots?"
Stan: "No, I've never driven the car."
Me: "....ok...how do you know about the blindspots...?"
Stan: "I read about them in magazines."
Me: "...so how do you know that you personally hate the blindspots if you've never even seen the car in person til now?"
Stan: "..."
8. See how I said below that he's proud of his executive board position? Last time we talked about an email deluge, he actually complained about getting emails related to his position. He said he didn't care and that he shouldn't have to worry about that stuff while he was away. He said he was content with having other people do his job for him. If he says it again, I will notify the board, because he was given the position under the clause that he would work while away.
9. Stan was yelling at his friend about housing for next year. His friend didn't like how much the rent was.
Stan: "Ok, so how much are you paying now?"
Phone: "$490."
Stan: "$490? Ok, so with inflation, that's $500."
Monday, September 3, 2007
Back to the Apartment
Stan started a conversation with me about something unimportant as I was going to the bathroom. He followed me there and stood in the doorway as I stood right in front of the toilet, flipped the fan switch on, and had a look of discomfort on my face (I really had to go). As soon as he finished his sentence, I shut the door.
Also, Stan doesn't seem to realize that the only reason he's on the executive board for our organization is because the seniors were pulling a prank on us/felt bad for him. He's very proud to be what he is now.
Also, Stan doesn't seem to realize that the only reason he's on the executive board for our organization is because the seniors were pulling a prank on us/felt bad for him. He's very proud to be what he is now.
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