Life at the White House

So I managed to lock myself out of facebook. I changed my password, as I do every few months, after I get paranoid that too many people know my password and worry about the things I say in chat messages. Of course I then blab my password in general conversation and the cycle continues.

When I went to log back in the new password didn't work. Neither did the old password. I have no idea what I managed to do, because it makes you enter the new password twice, but I managed to try and work it out enough times that my account got locked for twenty four hours. Which is pretty awful on a day that I don't have uni, work, and Elliot left with his computer- ie my access to the Sims.

Oh, he lives here now. And Cody only kinda lives here. Cody, and his friend Josh. Or Herro, which is way easier because there is already one Josh in our house, fondly referred to as the White House by its residents and the troops of obscure and wide-ranging characters that come and go from its confines from time to time. Cody and Herro got a gig on a cotton farm. Driving tractors apparently, although I like to muse that they are off pickin' cotton or lament about the the old cotton fields in general, because I think it sounds way cooler, or atleast, southern. This means that they come and go, usually gone for a few weeks and then spontaneously in the house for a few days.

With them come, Lucy, Lucy's friend Alice who has this thing going on with Herro and any number of folk wandering into the kitchen munching on whatever we happen to have in the cupboard, traipsing from the front door to the garage with a simple nod of the head as they walk past the rest of us most likely doing something ridiculous awesome like playing risk. Only to return hours after we'd assumed no one one was home from the haze of the garage, cheerily say 'bye' as though we have any clue who they are, and return, in the form of somebody else in the morn.

The menagerie of drugs, people, people sleeping on the loungeroom floor and so on bothers Josh a touch. I tend to shrug it off, in return for having a few extra housemates for a few days and ignoring the ridiculous amounts of people coming in and out of the house (and not questioning what some of them are actually here for) we get Codys rent and share of the bills paid in full despite the fact that he quite often isn't here, the payments usually aren't on time, but they do come through. Not to mention, when they are home, free weed. Perhaps there is some deep psychology to it as well, a highly dysfunctional home environment is all I know.

I don't mean to paint the rest of us as motivated down-to-earth studious angels either. In fact, who am I fucking kidding, I live in a uni-style party house that is trashed most nights of the week. All my friends fuck each other and are drinking themselves out of livers three nights a week. Often in my loungeroom.

But, life at the White House is pretty boring tonight. Cody and Herro are out west. All the college kids and most of the uni town kids including Elliot have gone home. Josh is at a meeting. And I'm trying to get the Gruen Transfer to load while I procrastinate cleaning the ridiculous mess of a kitchen.

That being said, life at the White House is going to be worse next week when the incompetant real estate agent comes over for the house inspection. There is not even words to describe the cleaning we need to do. And how annoyed I am that I'm the only one that will be home to make awkward small talk with her.

And this, this is why I detest the holidays. I'm off to watch the simpsons clean the house.