You're crazy, you're nuts, Amen.

I will now switch gears and write of a different roommate, who may be the exact opposite of Dawn. This roommate, who we will call Caitlin, is a slightly odd brand of crazy. She did not roll across our room in a chair nor did she become more than confused over a thermostat.

Caitlin loves Jesus. A lot. Like... A LOT.

Now, I am as down with the G.O.D. as the next person, but I am also more than capable of hearing a variety of opinions on the matter. To each their own, right? Caitlin didn't quite feel that way. To Caitlin, everything she had been given in her life was because of the Jesus. She did not feel like she had earned anything by any doing of her own. It was all because of him.

Hmmm... ok.

Caitlin and I were not very close. We were friendly with one another, but I knew she did not approve of where I worked (HOW could I work for an organization that supported GAY people?!), and it was always a little awkward. Also, talking to her was sort of like talking to a child- you felt like you had to sensor everything you say because she wasn't in touch with reality, and you didn't want to shatter her perfect view of the world.

One night, Caitlin stayed up late and went to bed around 10pm. Around 1am, I went to bed, very exhausted after typing a paper. At approximately 2:30am, I awake to mumbling. Having lived with people who talk in their sleep, I was not too phased at first. However, when the whispering didn't cease after a couple seconds, I began listening to what she was saying. While I could not make out the exact phrases, I could hear several "Jesus"s and "Father"s. She was praying. I looked over at her to see if she was awake, and her arms were raised above her head, toward the cross she had displayed over her bed.



Let me tell you. There is only one thing more freightening than awaking after less than two hours of sleep to your roommate (who has been asleep for nearly five hours) mumbling prayers will reaching toward a cross.

And that is wondering how many times she did it and you didn't wake up.

Bitch is effing nuts.

I test my chairs, too

For the next installment in the Bitch is Effing Nuts series, I would like to recount another tale of Dawn. As I'm sure all can recall, Dawn was my drug-loving, happy-go-lucky roommate who lasted ten weeks.

One afternoon, I came home from some outing that was surely fabulous to find Dawn assembling a large office chair to use in her room. Slightly befuddled by this, only because desk chairs were supplied to each room in our apartment, I retreated to my bedroom to study. Over the course of the next hour, I could hear several grunts and groans coming from the common room, a clear sign of my roommate struggling. However, I am a firm believer that some things, like assembling office chairs, should be left for people to figure out on their own. Therefore, I did not assist.

All of a sudden, while sitting at my computer, likely curing the pain of living with a crazy with a healthy dose of facebook stalking, I heard WHOOSH sound followed by a THUNK. I rushed over to the open door of my bedroom to see Dawn, faceplanted on the floor, with the chair on top of her. My first reaction was to make sure she was ok, which she was. My second was to ask her what the hell she was doing. After inquiring, she informed me that she needed to "test her chair to make sure it worked." She concluded that it did.

Well....

Chair: 1 Dawn: 0

Bitch is effing nuts.