mooncakes, curdled milk, and antique pins

mooncakes galoreIt’s mooncake season! I’m trying another brand of the “snowy” (frozen) mooncakes this year, and a box of I-don’t-even-know-what. The outside is glutinous rice paste, like the frozen ones; but the center is some kind of coconut-lychee gel concoction. With like, nuts or something. It’s unusual to my western palate, but I like it.

Of course I’ll also want at least one box of the traditional lotus seed paste and salted duck yolk cakes (probably the ones that have 2 or 3 yolks, actually), but the Mid Autumn Moon isn’t for another month. And they’ll likely be on huge discount the last week.

Okay, so here is something I definitely won’t miss when I move: Fucking Cunt Housemate has been AWOL for at least a week, because the same pile of mail has been stacked against her door since I got home from the airport last Wednesday. Which is fine with me, because when she’s not there she’s not leaving filthy dishes in the sink, screaming at her boyfriend, and just generally being a huge pain in everyone’s ass.

But she must have come home briefly yesterday when I was at work, because the mail was gone. There was also a gawdawful reek in the kitchen that smelled like the rotting rectum of a dead alley cat. A rousing round Find The Smell led me to a glass in the sink that had obviously contained milk at room temperature for the entire time she was gone — which included at least two days of 100-degree heat, in a house with no air-conditioning. Did she attempt to clean it, or just throw it in the trash, like a normal, non-moronic person? No, she poured its contents in the sink, where they sat and festered, because the curdled glop was too thick to pass the drain sieve, and we don’t have a garbage disposal. She also didn’t so much as run hot water over the glass, which is unbelievably crusted and nasty and still sporting the dregs of greenish soured whey.

On the miniscule chance that I am allowed to assume the lease on the house, she and I are going to have A Talk. Bonnie grumbled at her when she did disgusting shit like that, but there were never any consequences, so she felt entitled to just keep doing them. I will. NOT. put up with it. She will have one chance to get her shit together, then she’s out. I’m also not going to share the house with any teenaged ninnies who have never lived anywhere but with Mommy and Daddy and who haven’t quite grasped that they are no longer living with people willing and able to clean up their messes. Instead, you’re living with adults who have their own lives and who wouldn’t have the time to pick up after you, even if they were so inclined. (Which I, myself, am most profoundly NOT.)

Eh, the chances of me being able to continue living there are tiny anyway.

lizard pinI’m not wearing an Outfit of the Day, just an old skirt and blouse, but this is one of the pins I bought at the Old Schoolhouse Antique Mall. It’s a little blurry so you can’t really tell, but the eyes are green crystals.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: