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The Ego
Disclaimer: Nothing happened at night this time but since I started writing about the flatmate (aka Sleeper) under this heading, can't really escape it now! Read on...

Sometime last week, I came across a note left in the kitchen which said: "Could you please keep the window open when you are cooking? Thank you."

Now that sounds like a reasonable enough request, especially if someone is cooking something especially strong, but what got me curious was who wrote it. It was anonymous. So I looked at the cleaning rota we have stuck on our pinboard and compared the handwriting to everyone who'd written on the board. It didn't match a single one.

It had to be Sleeper writing the note!

Anyway, yesterday Ms Green asked me if I'd written it and I said no and showed her how the handwriting did not compare to anyone else's.

Ms Green then wrote under the first note: "I think you have left this note Sleeper. If you don't use the kitchen, then why does it matter if the windows are open or not? - Ms Green"

A little background here: when we were signing the contract between the flatmates, Sleeper refused to clean the common area every weekend as she said 'I don't use the kitchen, I'm not going to clean it' and when we said it's a part of the house and you have to clean it, she said 'I'm not using the kitchen, I'm not going to clean everyone else's mess.' She refused to see reason at that point and we gave up trying to talk to her. Even later on when the building mentors tried to talk to her about how she has to pitch in, she flatly refused.

Anyway, in a few hours, we saw another reply to Ms Green's reply on the note. It said something like: "Because it stinks in the corridor and it is common sense [to keep the window open] but some people don't have common sense. And I don't believe that I should clean YOUR dirt."

I told Ms Green to not bother replying and breaking her head over it because Sleeper is simply a whacked out idiot, who herself has no common sense. In my opinion.

Oh, and it has never been stinky in the corridor. Oh and Sleeper DOES use the kitchen. I've seen her use the gas.

Gah.
The Ego
I am a spoiled brat when it comes to airlines. My family, in 99.9% cases, travels Emirates. It's not snobbery. It's not about ego. It's about knowing which airline matches our expectations of a good flight experience. Pessimists might say that the job of an airline is to get its passengers from point A to point B safely. Of course. But that doesn't mean we sit in a 10 hour flight squashed like rotten tomatoes in a mouldy crate, does it?

My first foray out of Emirates came in 2009 when I travelled Qatar Airways, which I felt was quite brilliant (technically, it was when I was about 3 and they booked Air India but we do not speak of that time. Ever).

This year, for my return trip from Dubai to UK, my father, having left the booking process for the last minute, found that British Airways had an affordable price. So there I was, booked for Dubai-Heathrow-Manchester.

When I reached Dubai International Airport, I had already checked in online so I went to the fast bag drop line. Not so much luck. Apparently my LHR-MAN flight had been cancelled. So the woman behind the desk sent me to another counter to re-book me on another flight. Okay. I went to the counter she indicated and the man behind that counter took quite some time to find me on the flights I was originally booked for. Then it turned out I was sent to the wrong counter! So after about 15-20 minutes, I was moved to another counter, which took another 10-15 minutes. So much for checking online. Anyway, the end result of that mind-numbing time I spent in front of the airline check-in counters was that from Heathrow to Manchester I was booked on British Midlands.

Also, when weighing in my check-in luggage, the weight came to 26kgs. Now, I was booked on World Traveller Plus, which meant my baggage allowance was 2 bags of 23 kgs each and I was carrying just one check-in luggage. The person behind the counter said that even though the total allowance for me, in effect, was 46kgs, because I had one bag of 26kgs, ie, overweight by 3kgs, they'd charge me 30 pounds. I spluttered and said that was ridiculous and that I was quite willing to pay excess baggage if I really had it, but obviously in this case I don't! Anyway, she said I'd have to pay at Manchester or Heathrow (she wasn't very clear) and that was that. Fine, I thought, I'd argue with them there.

But...YAY...they upgraded me to Club World (Business Class). Which was a heaven-sent opportunity as from the time I checked in till the time I reached the boarding gate...I'd had THREE full-body scans. Yes, THREE. Why? Goodness knows; I kept beeping under each security gate, even after removing my belt, watch and whatever else I could think of. Beep, beep, went all the scanners. By the time I reached the boarding gate, I was SO exhausted, what with the 40 minutes+ I spent at check-in and more time wasted on the body scans, I was just thankful to be in Business class.

I did try to watch a movie or two, but the seats going down all the way was just too much to resist and I slept, waking up only for food.

We landed at Heathrow amidst thick clouds and therefore mild turbulence (people who have flown with me know that I am very uncomfortable when that starts). Anyway, after completing security checks and checking in with the other airline, I made my way towards the gate. That flight was delayed by over an hour. So waiting...waiting...and more waiting. Finally we got on the plane. It was a short flight of about half an hour... but again because of the thick cloud cover, quite a bit of turbulence and THIS time I was by the window seat so it was a bit...freaky to see nothing outside but thick white stuff swirling all the time. But when we crossed that and were flying above the white, it looked beautiful (sorry no pictures; I've, for goodness knows what reason, considerably lessened my picture taking).

Okay landed at Manchester. Picked up baggage. SNOOOOW!!! Didn't have to pay any extra luggage fee...and left.

And that's it for now!

The Ego
The result of a half-hour chat conversation from last night (it's just me in a monologue of sorts, with interjections like "oh" and "nice" or "haha" from the person I was talking to):

That jerk!!! Argh! Aaaargh! Why do I like him so much??? Please...tell me WHY! Gah. He's kind...when he wants to be [but is] stubborn like a DONKEY. Does stupid things...and then does stupid things that makes me smile. Idiot. [When I first met him] I thought he was ... different... the first time we actually had a proper conversation... must have had something to do with the way he snatched my phone out of my hand and said he'd "give me themes" like he was presenting me with something precious. *giggles* He had long ... i.e. shoulder length and straight hair... Can you believe that? I like his hair how it is now though... short and curly/wavy depending on its mood. Hair has moods. Mine does: some days it decides to be super curly, some days it can fall straight without me doing anything and some days it's wavy and has curls at the end. My hair and his certainly are moody. I love spicy food. He can't handle it. My Mom ...whenever cooking at home if friends are coming, says "Is he coming?" and I say, err yes... she goes "Right...so that means I have to cook without my chili powder?" in an annoyed but amused way. He starts coughing if it's too spicy. He can't handle mayo very well... he loves it... but it makes him cough for some reason. And when he gets a cough... he doesn't sleep. Sheesh, I'm talking abt him more than about me. Can't help it ... sometimes I feel like I know him better than myself. On the flight back from London to Dubai last March, he had a splitting headache just before we took off... he just snuggled and went off to sleep for a long part of that flight. My left shoulder was a bit achey later but... it was alright... I made up for it by digging my nails into his hands from Doha to Dubai coz of the insane turbulence. He's allergic to animal hair but has two cats. Which is why I think he has constant allergies...he loves them though. The white one is insanely possessive of him. When he's in a bad mood, heaven help you if you get in the way; then he can be rude, cruel and downright evil. Moody jerk he can be. Why am I talking about him??? I definitely leave him alone when he's angry. I didn't used to but then when I got the hang of how he operates, I started insisting he tell me what the problem was about and then I'd leave him alone for however long he likes. Sometimes he tells me, sometimes he doesn't. He has the best teeth I've ever seen on anyone. They're beautiful. He thinks his nose is too pointy...but I like it like that. He likes Adidas. I bought him an Adidas blue cap once... he lost it :( Then last year I bought him two Adidas tshirts... originals... He wore one of the tshirts I bought him on his bday treat.

So...readers...do I sound insane?
The Ego
Wrapped only in a towel, she closed the garage door. Instead of looking out the window like she always did, she sank to the cool, hard floor with her back against the unforgiving wall, and cried. No, crying was not the right word for it. It was the sound of despair. The sound of nothingness.
When she finally pushed herself off the merciless cold floor and looked out the window, the car was gone. And she was alone.
The Ego
She removed the intimate photos she had with him tacked on her wall. Simple ones...hugging each other...holding hands...they all went. She opened her wallet and removed the small photo there as well. They rest on the desk for now...where should she put them?

And then she drowns in her own tears. What else is there to do?
DISCLAIMER: All opinions expressed on this blog are the bloggers private thoughts, not meant to cause harm. Take everything with a pinch of salt.