Where in the world is Adrianna?

I hope you all realize that whenever you read my complaints on blog, you have to take it with a grain of salt. I enjoy a bit of theatricality. My mother and sister do not understand this, even though they are way more theatrical than me. After not calling my mom back the day she left a message, I got several frantic messages from her varying from the very angry/"SO HELP ME GOD I WILL DISOWN YOU" to concerned/frantic to wondering what clothes I would like to wear in my casket. And my sister echoed these messages, only adding at the very end "Oh, and mom wants you to call her." So it runs in the family.

I'm living in my friend's apartment until I can move into mine. My friend moved into her parents' place for the summer. This might come as a high price to pay for air conditioning, but then again I did stand on the bus on the way home last week and realized that it looked as if I had peed in my pants. And I had to walk home like this. Maybe my priorities are switched around after all, but I have no reason to complain about the heat. Two summers of mindblowingly sweltering heat without any air conditioned buildings in the vicinity has toughened me.

I've got several roommates in this apartment, insect and human. As I've said before, I don't really mind insects. However, the situation in this apartment lead me at the start to go to the bathroom clutching a can of Raid and multitasking while performing various other duties. By the second day I had a small little battlefield of dead/dying roaches, one of which was dying for over 12 hours. And did I do anything to put it out of its long, agonizing torture? NO! In fact, before I got Raid I was pouring anything over the buggers with the "Keep out of reach of children" label on it, and entertaining the idea of setting them afire after they were sufficiently coated with rubbing alcohol. Unnecessary? Maybe. Theatrical? Definitely.

To further illustrate my point that college students, that sometimes put up with a couple of unnatural phenomena, let's turn to my friend Michal Lynn. She lives in what could potentially be an adorable apartment with two boys, one of whom is quite odd. When over there one night, I heard him asking in a voice bordering on irritation where is drying fish bones were. The bones of that small fish that had died in his fish tank. I mentioned potentially adorable, because it's things like drying fish bones lying around the apartment that keep it from achieving its full potential.

Oh, and also mouse patties. Mouse patties are definitely a hindrance.



Returning to theatricality, it would be interesting to develop a few theories as to how it became so immensely flattened. Did someone try to have a mouse patty in his hamburger? Did a person stomp on him? Maybe it was dropped from a great distance. I am clearly not the only person who at one point entertained alternate methods of disposing with unwanted roommates.