Revenge via Pink Foam

So, for those who have patiently (or not, you could have just been laughing at my poor luck in roommates) read through my roommate complaints (HERE Read from bottom up to get the by-date of things), you will know that they eat my food, are generally untidy, and I share a bathroom with The Sasquatch, who, to my disgust, leaves hair behind in the shower and in the sink instead of footprints and blurry photos.

But, just now, I believe I have given my own revenge..

Before you get grossed out, please read the title of this post and then see just how creatively gross you could get with pink foam.

I don’t want to do it myself, so I’m just going to say that I am going for confused more than grossed out.

Yeah, see, NOW it’s much easier to imagine doing something confusing with pink foam…

But this requires me to mention something that I am certain I have not gone onto before…

Myself.

Specifically, what I look like, and narrowing that down to my hair.

BTW to those who will not give up on me getting my revenge by doing something gross, no, this is not about shaving either.

I don’t usually dye my hair, and what I have done has been pretty tame considering the ideas most people have about artists.

I have made the tips of my hair darker, I have gotten blonde streaks, I have gotten ‘peek-a-boo’ purple streaks, and, more recently, i have had more noticeable pink streaks (still of the ‘peek-a-boo’ nature).

The dark tips weren’t that noticeable, as that was what I wanted, the blonde-er streaks were noticeable with my hair being much longer, and, though not as immediately noticed (in an “she’s streaked her hair” noticeable way), the two peek-a-boo streaks have been pretty cool.

They would probably be much more noticeable if they were normal streaks (on the top layer), rather than streaks applied to a ear-level layer of hair. They ‘peek’ through.

Peek-a-boo.

When I was little I was a big fan of Ed, Edd, and Eddy.

This has relevance.

If you are familiar with the old show, you will get references to a plank, and you will also remember that there were three older girls called the Kankers who each had a crush on one of the three Eds.

Lee likes Eddy, Marie likes Edd, May likes Ed, and I freely admit that I had a cartoon crush on Edd (the middle from the picture above)

left to right: Marie, Lee, May

left to right: Marie (Edd), Lee (Eddy), May (Ed). Guess how my young little brain translated my cartoon crush?

I desperately wanted to have blue hair.

I would only stop asking after Mom finally told me that since I was Blonde (ie. yellow hair) if I dyed my hair blue, it would turn Green.

But peek-a-boo streaks are a far cry from full our blue hair, but at some point I may decide I want to, you know, see what my parents reaction to electric blue hair would be.

Maybe have an ambulance on speed dial, in case they take it rougher than I thought.

But back to pink foam.

For those who don’t dye their hair (often, or at all), you can either go for a normal dye or you can go for something that’s more of a stain.

The stain, from what I can tell, is a more vibrant colour, but doesn’t stay as long as a normal dye.

I wanted something a bit more funky, interesting, and hey, the purple had faded enough since I had it done that I decided that, when I was having my hair appointment this family day weekend/reading week, if I was going to have my streaks redone, bright pink wouldn’t look out of place.

So I got the stain.

Wow, that sounds a bit like an omen of doom, similar to the dreaded Black Spot, but maybe less pirate-ey and more…

House wife-ishly?

Not the stain! Not the pink stain!

Who knows, maybe it was the result of that stray red sock in a wash of whites.

But one thing I noticed the second time I was in the shower after having the stain done is that it came out a bit when you were shampooing.

I’m sure it happened the first time I was showering after I had it done, but I only noticed it this time.

It was rather strange seeing the usually white froth of shampoo this odd pink…

But it was only today, when I guess after a more vigorous scrub of my hair that I noticed the pink foam on the walls of the shower did I think of revenge.

I’m going to stop here a moment, and tell you that I’m laughing to myself at the idea of looking at pink foam on shower walls and thinking “Revenge! Bwahaha!”… but I’m also kind of smiling to myself because I wonder at how many people thought of something a bit more gross than… well… this.

Once again I ask that you look at the title of this post, and if you were hoping at the beginning of his post for some vindictive bit of nastyness from a 19-year-old with roommate problems, well, you will have to wait for one of them to push me past my boundaries a fair bit farther to get me to make a mess that I may have to clean up.

Or try to outlast one of my less than clean roommates in NOT cleaning up.

But oh! When I noticed the pink foam lasting on the walls of the shower, Insanity perked up and loved the idea of The Sasquatch’s confusion.

Revelled in the idea of him being so confused as to what, exactly, it could be, this pink foamy stuff on the wall of the shower, cackled in delight when even Sanity couldn’t give an explanation that would make sense without hair dye knowledge, because that would mean that thought could go to one conclusion…

That it must be something gross.

Gross, and girly.

It doesn’t matter that it’s foamy like soap (exactly like soap), it was pink and strange… and foreign.

What could I have possibly done with this strange pink foam in the shower?

Bwahahahaahaha!

It matters not that he wouldn’t be able to figure out anything specific…

The horror of an unknown gross an girly thing will haunt him every time he even thinks of having a shower!

Bwahaha!

So I flicked more soap onto the shower wall, finished my shower while taking the unusual care not to wash off the foam from the wall, and got myself ready for class.

Later, when I noticed something amiss, I was given another delight, though a rather bittersweet one.

One of my earrings, in my second set of ear piercings, had fallen off.

It was cheap, with a plastic cap acting as a ‘pearl’ and I knew it would eventually break or get lost, but still, I was walking around with only three earrings in, and even if no one else noticed, I knew.

And Sanity said that I must’ve lost it in the bathroom.

Maybe in the shower. Maybe outside of the shower.

But likely the bathroom.

And Insanity reared up with manic delight and said

“He’ll likely step on it! The FOOL! Bwahahahahahahahahaaaa!”

If you do not know the pain of stepping on an earring with a bare foot, you are more likely to know how painful it is to find a Lego piece in the dark, and it is a similar pain.

Except that with an earring there’s a possibility that you’ll poke a hole into your foot, like I did when I was 15.

I have no clue if he found/stepped on the earring, I have no clue if he was weirded out or confused by the foam, I don’t know if either the foam or the earring (or both) were washed down the drain before he even noticed anything…

But it’s my revenge for millions of tiny hairs and other nastyness around the apartment res, and I still imagine Insanity cackling gleefully next to Sanity.

And I know that even Sanity has a smile.

And that is Revenge via Pink Foam.

EDIT: As a bonus, I found this video. It’s things you wouldn’t want to hear from a roommate.

EDIT 2 : For an update on what has happened with my revenge, look HERE and be prepared for childishness.

Oh, you should know, I Got an Abortion 2 Weeks Ago.

I have had a total of 2 roommates before coming to university and gaining 3, and it was a mix.

Signs of crazyness are fairly obvious... My last roommate was obviously crazy.

I don’t know much about my 3 roommates right now, other than the excessive shedding-and-not-caring-ness of one, and knowing what their majors are (business, law, and science, and me, in fine arts :|), so this post will be about my first roommate, who wasn’t crazy, and my second roommate, who was.

It would be fair to say that actually, my first roommate was Emma, but she’s my sister. And it happened when I was younger, so…

Yeah.

N was my first roommate, in Rangers. The rooms were small, didn’t have a door because it would be a fire hazard, and was set up with a bed, shelf, and hanging closet bit on either side of the room. N was great, though in the way that everyone seemed to get roomed, she and I weren’t very similar, were in fact very different, and the only real complaint I ever really had about her was that she would come into the room and immediately take off her shirt and strut around in her sports bra. Lexy once told me of her friend no-pants Alex, who was called that because as soon as he got home he would take off his pants, regardless of who was over, and strut similarly around in his boxers. N was like that too, but I feel that there is a difference. N had gigantic boobs, and complained about them often.

Hm.

But I mainly want to talk about my roommate from this summer, the one who shared a room with me for the two months I worked at Grundy Lake.

She was insane.

Insane in a fairly quiet way, but made her insaneness known within the first ten minutes of knowing her, before I had even finished unpacking. She’s insane in a way that makes you go “Whyyyy?!?”

Ten minutes in to unpacking, while my parents have gone to grab another box from the van, and she looks up from her own organizing, and mentions, in a casual voice “Oh, you should know, I got an abortion about 2 weeks ago.”

Me and sanity: What?

"Me NOT Want to Know!" "I'se just telling you--" "NOT WANT" "Youse should KNOW--" "NOT WANT!"

Insanity: *laughing* I don’t have anything to add.

On the outside though, I look at her and say “Um, okay? Good for you…?” What else am I going to say? WHAT would you say to someone who tells you this? I’ve known her name for less than an hour! Then, she ups the crazy.

“Oh, I didn’t want to have the abortion, but the babies were already dead inside of me.”

Excuse me?

“Um…”

Insanity, by this point, is on the floor laughing, and can’t get the breath to say anything, and me and Sanity are looking at each other and at this girl and thinking about how this girl will be sleeping in the same room as me for the next 60-odd days… oh boy…

But then my parents come in, and so the crazy is hidden away again, or at least she doesn’t really speak after that.

When walking down to the main gate to fill out some paperwork with a couple of my co-workers, one asks who has gotten the abortion story so far.

At least she isn’t restricting all of her crazy to me then…

She also, by tat point, had been talking about how her phone could go up to 50 feet under water, and how it could also then be shot ot of a cannon and still be usable. The girl at the store showed it to her, by putting it in a bucket of water and by throwing it on the ground. Bull.

I now have the same phone as she has, an Android Smartphone, and no, it will still be unhappy and broken under water, and I have a case around it because I’m not going to throw it on the ground. My phone will take enough abuse from me with out me testing for its aquatic abilities and shooting it from a cannon.

So I have a crazy, story-telling roomie… huh…

Later on in the summer, she tells me more about the abortion (I did not bring it up, and was in fact in the middle of reading). She admits that she was more than a couple of months along, and that she would have had twins, if she hadn’t had the procedure.

No really.

“By the way the doctor said that if I have a nosebleed, call the ambulance because I could die.” More crazyness O_O

She then goes on to talk about how it was her fault for getting the abortion, and her boyfriend has just texted her saying he wished she hadn’t. This boyfriend, by the way, is not the guy who knocked her up. She is now feeling guilty, but the babies were dead already with holes in their lungs. She says she thinks it’s because she was smoking.

Smoking while pregnant.

Holy Jeeze, she thinks that it’s because she was smoking while drinking.

Really.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I last saw her, and thinking back, I still have No Idea how I could have responded any better than the “Really”, “Uh huh”, and “Hmm” responses that I ended up giving when she decided to share.

I sometimes think that perhaps if I had stayed silent, MAYBE she would have dropped the idea of telling me of her crazyness. Maybe.

Occasionally we would have normal conversations, talking about what kind of work we did (Thank God we had different jobs– me in Maintenance and her as a Naturalist), and she took a lot of trips, either to her house which was like 20-30 minutes away, or she would go with her boyfriend, or she would go on an out trip with the other Naturalists… Entire nights without the worry that I will hear aout boyfriend troubles, about her worries about her post-abortion figure, about how she didn’t fucking swear….

Yeah… Normal roommate, and then the crazy roommate, and now I have three…. one of which is hairy and shedding.

But at least they all seem normal. And I haven’t heard any I-Don’t-Need-To-Know stories.

Yet.

Anyone else have crazy roommate stories?