1.28.2013

Housemates

I don't think I've properly introduced my housemates to this blog, or the internet, formally yet. I live in a double storey terrace (which I suspect is a council house). Its a crap little place with ugly mottled brown carpets, leaking taps and kitchen so disgusting the stench sometimes makes me wretch. But the house is home for the next 10 months and I've grown to love and hate the people I chose to make my bed and sit in with.

Here's Kassam:
Born in Italy but Israeli officially, this poor child is the only male in the house. We call him Big Daddy (because he asked us to) and he is the official protector of the house (he served in the Italian Army and owns a baseball bat). He cooks us delicious pasta, smokes up nearly every day and tortures Joshua and I at the gym.

Next we have Carleen and Vanessa:
Both equally the same height and almost similar in looks it is not your fault if you mistake them for one another. However since I've known Carl since high school, that wasn't a problem. Both of them have their moments singing loudly with high pitched voices and are my providers of entertainment (Carleen is best for movies and Vanessa with really random 90's tv shows).

Then there's me:
What can I say? If you're reading this blog you probably know me by now. 

 I study in South East London you see and it usually takes me 90 minutes to get to class or 45 minutes on a good day if I take the Northern line. "London transport can't be that inefficient!" you exclaim. No it isn't (though it has its moments) but I live in Hertfordshire you see (Hatfield to be exact), the ceremonial county up north about 20 minutes from Finsbury Park and just past Potters Bar. "Jeez louise, thats quite a journey!" Why yes it is, but I've perfected the art of setting a timer on my phone and I actually *gasp* look forward to  reading on the numerous tube/train/bus rides it takes to get me from Hatfield to Elephant and Castle and back. I love London and all its eccentricities but I'm not (financially) ready to move there yet until June. Until then I shall miss these fuckers. Or maybe not. Time will tell, I suppose.

x

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