Living the Good Life
Today it’s five months - give or take a day or two - since I moved from the Hell-hole I live to the shared apartment where I live now. I share a spacious apartment with five other people, and it’s quite the diverse crowd. We’ve got a gay stage director and movie star who works all night and sleeps when I get up in the morning, a brilliant law student who flat out refuses to talk about her sex life (or maybe the lack of one), a very kind pharmaceutical chemist who makes sure we’re keeping it nice and tidy in the apartment, your average nerd - me - and a girl getting a Bachelor of Education at Steinerskolen. In a week or so, a sixth person moves in, but I don’t know much about him yet1.
Basically, I think this is one of the best shared apartments I could’ve lived in. The only better apartment would probably be one filled with nymphomaniac Playboy bunnies.
I don’t know much about the Bachelor of Education girl yet either, she actually moved back in today after having spent half a year in South Africa. That’s pretty damn cool. She’d taken a pile of photographs there, I’ll hopefully convince her to guide me through them some day. I’ve only talked to her a little, but she sure seems like a nice girl. Like all nice girls in the world, she’s got a boyfriend, and I just made friends with him by giving him access to our non-broadcasting, 63 byte WPA encrypted wireless Internet connection. I’m just too kind.
I had to send him the pass phrase via e-mail, which means that he knows the address to this site now. So, Bachelor-girl’s boyfriend, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re not offended by brilliant pictures of half nekkid women. Because that’s generally what the audience here came for:
OK, in case you wondered, I do know their names, I just don’t want to use them since I’ve not asked for their permission. Etiquette sucks monkey balls. ↩︎