Home is where you hang your hat

Upon arriving in this sleepy town of East Haddam, CT I was handed an envelope with a key and some papers, including a map of East Haddam (might as well have been drawn on a cocktail napkin) a list of local things to do (sleep and pee were right on the top of that list) and a list of my roommates. I have been living in my own apartment for the last year and a half. I usually do pretty good with roommates. When I first moved to New York I shared a shoebox of a studio with probably 10-15 mice. My first night staying there was rudely interrupted by the scurrying of little feet across the floor at the foot of my bed, or rather, mattress placed on the floor. I decided to catch the little buggers with glue traps; much better than the snap and crack of tiny mice spine at 3 in the morning right? Wrong! The first mouse I caught squeaked and flailed about. I didn't want to throw it in the trash, still alive and noisy. A light bulb went off! I would drown the mouse in the toilet, then throw it in the trash. Brilliant!! But with my luck, as I dropped Mr. Mouse in the toilet, he landed trap side down. So now I had a squeaking mouse, on a raft, afloat in my toilet. I scooped him out with a spatula, opened the window, placed him on the window sill to die, then threw the spatula away. The next morning he was gone. I'd like to think he committed some Thelma and Louise feat and threw himself off the 5th floor, but its more likely that some hungry bird came and snatched him up. In New York, we must help feed all the homeless! Next I moved into an apartment with 2 girls, one who turned out to be a kleptomaniac, and the other a money hungry blood sucking witch. She was evil personified. To this day I don't know how she was able to walk outside in broad daylight! Then I moved into an apartment with 2 guys. It was a one bedroom and we had converted the large living room into a bedroom, complete with loft beds, under which we placed our desks. A large thick curtain acted as our door. Every night seemed like a sleepover at summer camp. Its hard to feel like a grownup when you're basically in a bunk bed. Eventually one of the guys got married and I was forced to move on. 2 girls again. One, a pack rat. And cheap. (usually those things go hand in hand) A lovely girl, but she kept everything! Our apartment had two large closets in the halls. Both filled with her crap. The fridge full of 45 ranch dressing bottles cause there was about a teaspoons worth of dressing in all of them. Her room had about 3 feet of clear walking space, and that was on the ceiling. I have never seen so much crap in one room! My other roommate had a cat. I hate cats! Cats shed! Cats have hairballs! Cats also pee and poop in sand. And its important to clean up said sandy pee and poop. She did not. Sometimes for a week or more at time. Of course it was her cat so I wasn't about to clean the litter box. No, I'd just deal with the skin-peeling stench that came from our overheated, unventilated, week-old stinky sandy cat poop apartment. Sure showed her!!!

Now I'm sharing a beautiful Victorian house (think grandma's house, only grandma has been dead for 15 years and the creepy caretaker has been looking after the place) with 6 people, and a ghost. Yes that's right, a ghost. Most say here name is Emily. I am more inclined to believe it's the career of some actor, long since forgotten after playing 3rd guy from the left in a production of "musical that no one has ever heard of." My room has 4 doors. One leads to the hall, the other the closet, which has a door that leads to, another closet. The third door leads to the closet of another room in the house. Probably the passage for servants when this house was built. The forth leads to a widows walk and some small attic space (I lovingly call it the Ann Frank room) complete with a hive of bees and the carcasses of small rodents. Last night I woke suddenly. The room was cold. I turned off my fan. Still cold. Window was open. I heard a noise. A gentle tapping sound followed by a faint wwwhhhoooo!! I convinced myself it was a woodpecker and an owl involved in some late night mating ritual. Yes of course, that makes perfect sense!!!

Dear Diary, I wonder if that raft mouse has found me at last?