Category Archives: House Problems

Not really goodbye.

A week ago today, I moved out of the Blue Door Lounge and graduated with my Bachelor’s degree (holy shit!). The moving out process was an absolute nightmare. With so many people graduating and our landlord refusing to return our calls, we were left scrambling. Less than 48 hours before our scheduled move out, the house was a complete disaster zone. Snappa tables, beer, and dirty dishes littered the common rooms. All of the furniture sat unmoved, and all of the food in the fridge sat rotting. Travis had friends over that night, and in the hour that the rest of us left the house, they managed to deface our staircase with permanent profane graffiti. We all knew that there was no way we were going to get our deposit back, any attempts at fixing up the place would have been in vain. Most of the doors no longer worked, and there were so many holes in the walls, stains and burn marks on the carpet, and mold in the bathrooms. Trevor and I surveyed the wreckage on Friday night, not sure how to attack it.  We pondered the value of the myriad of items around us and ultimately decided to simply throw everything out. Wasteful, I know, but without many people there to claim things, and with those there not wanting to have anything to do with them, we didn’t have much of a choice. So, one by one, we began to throw things off of the balcony  and into the trash area down below. Couches, tables, pots and pans, dishes, coffee makers, toaster ovens, blankets, pillows, rotten food, empty beer bottles — it all went tumbling down into the pile, making loud, splintering sounds as it hit the pavement. Passerbys cheered at our destruction, and suddenly, cleaning the house became fun.

We were pretty certain that our landlord would charge us a ridiculous fee for the mess we left, so the next morning we were all relieved when the garbage truck stopped in front of the house. Everyone ran down the stairs and began to frantically carry things to the truck. The garbage men stopped and helped us carry some of the big stuff, including the number of couches that sat on the lawn, over to the crushing jaws of the trash compactor. We spent a good twenty minutes moving everything over, ultimately tipping the workers for being so patient and for all of their help. We sighed in relief as the garbage truck pulled away.

We got the last few things out of the house, took a look around, and called it as good as it was going to get. We didn’t have time to do any actual cleaning, but it was a miracle just to have gotten everything out. We said our rushed goodbyes to a house filled with countless memories and filed out the door. I had three hours until graduation at point, and still so much to do.

 

But it’s not really goodbye to the Blue Door Lounge. Since I’m currently couch-surfing, it turns out I may need to sublease a spot from one of the boys in the house. I’m sure I’ll visit them numerous times throughout the year either way. Those who no longer live there will come over to party — we’ll trash the place, and then (and this is the best part), we’ll leave.

The Blue Door Lounge will live on…and so will this blog.

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My bathroom makes me miss the dirty streets of Vegas.

That’s how bad it is. Most people ended up going home this last weekend for mother’s day, but somehow, things still got trashed.

When I walked into the downstairs bathroom in the morning, I discovered bloody saliva and remnants of vomit on the toilet seat. Blood was smeared on the light switch, the counters, and the mirror. There was even a bloody cup next to the sink. I’m not sure what happened here, but it looked like some sort of drunken party injury gone wild — all over the bathroom.

The sliding frosted glass shower doors are still absent from their place on the shower and lay instead against the wall. These were pulled down by someone weeks ago, but have proven difficult to be fixed. Due to this, water from the shower is all over the ground. There are puddles in the middle of the floor, some with leaves floating in them, for who knows what reason. We no longer have any bath rugs either, so each shower only brings more risk of water damage and mold. The shower itself is no safe haven either. The tub has been covered in beach tar for weeks now, with no sign of the person who caused it cleaning it up.

I’m just thankful there wasn’t any vomit on the ground.

But seriously, it’s times like these where I miss the dirty streets of Vegas, not that I need another excuse to miss Las Vegas.

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Young Wesley’s Birthday Rager

Friday night, our house saw possibly one of the biggest ragers to happen here this year. It was Young Wesley’s birthday party, and it was quite the celebration. Tons of people (some friends, but mostly friends of friends and randoms) showed up at the house ready to party. We got Wesley a bottle of cake flavored vodka and melted candles to the top, then lighted it while everyone sang him happy birthday. Wesley’s friend also got a DJ to play on our balcony, complete with lasers. The DJ (who was absolutely terrible) blew a fuse after the first half an hour he played, and then came storming into the garage telling us we didn’t know how to work our own circuit breaker.

The party raged on as people climbed onto our kitchen counters to dance. Randoms continued to flow in and the DJ continued to suck. His set up was so bad that people kept tripping over his cords and cutting the music every ten minutes. When the midnight rolled around and the DJ didn’t stop playing, Nala told him to shut it off so that we wouldn’t get another noise violation. He had agreed earlier to turn off the music on time, but once it actually came time to do so, he didn’t follow through. It took a little bit of angry convincing on Nala’s part to get him to quit, but then the crowd cheered for more. After a few minutes, the DJ turned it back on, and promptly got an earful from Nala. Finally, he stopped, but continued to act like a jerk on his way out, pushing and shoving us as he took his gear to the door.

A lack of music didn’t stop people from partying, but they did begin to get unruly. A couple of small fights broke out on the stairs as the rest of the party clamored to get a glimpse of it. Then another girl followed by a small posse, ran up the stairs claiming that she was called to someone to fight there. She yelled repeatedly that the other girl must be too scared to face her before Travis kicked her and the other angry drunks out.

Inevitably, our house was trashed after all of this. Every bathroom had broken glass on the counters. Red cups and little were strewn about, but that was nothing compared to the vomit on the windowsill of the upstairs bathroom. We even found hot pink lipstick marks all over the shower — as if some drunken girl decided it would be a good idea to kiss the definitely dirty shower walls. The next morning, I opened the door to the downstairs bathroom only to discover our flowers had been pulled out of their vase and thrown on the shower floor, along with gobs of hair gel all over. I heard later that people deliberately tried to destroy everything bathroom in our house, but I have no idea why.


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All Out of Power.

Since the power was out most of the day today, my lunch break entertainment consisted of listening to Renae and Travis yelling at each other — fighting again about Travis’ relentless party hosting. It was quite the passionate argument.

Thankfully, the power came back on a few minutes ago. We were all under the assumption that our main circuit breaker was completely blown and needed an electrician’s attention, but it turns out it just needed some maneuvering.

Today is also the day that all mandatory chores on the chore chart are supposed to be completed, so I thought I’d share a picture of our kitchen floor at the moment…it’s pretty disgusting. See for yourself. Who’s on mop duty? That’s right, Travis.

Our kitchen floor after the weekend.

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Seriously?

I woke up this morning to a bathroom more disastrous than I’ve ever seen it. Clothes, shoes, packages of condoms, and a phone strewn everywhere. But that was nothing compared to the dried vomit. I mean, come on, you’re already in the bathroom, right next to the toilet, can’t you try to aim a little bit better? Or at least clean up your mess so that the rest of us can stand to go in there? Seriously.

Update: Apparently the culprit was found last night lying in the vomit with his pants down and one shoe in the toilet. This was, of course, before the drunken shower where all of the shampoo bottles were knocked over when he fell, splitting open his lip.

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Goodbye Turk.

The Turk moved out of the house today. After days of saying he would be gone the next, he finally gathered up his women’s scarves and boxes of Turkish Delight from their places strewn across the living room, the room which he had made his bedroom for the last two months.

His random stripping and dancing to the Party Boy Theme Song on the counter will almost be missed. So will his straight vodka swigs on a Tuesday night and drawn-on mustaches. His random knife wielding and 5am Skype calls to Turkey, however, will not be. If there’s one word of wisdom to be drawn from this experience, it’s to not agree to allow foreign people walking down the street yelling to each house “I need a place to live, where can I live?” to move in. 9 out of 10 times, it’s probably not going to work out to be the best idea. In fact, it may lead to angry house meeting drama, security issues, and ridiculous water bills.

After a few short goodbyes today, T-Rex
and I watched from our towels on the lawn as the Turk carried his luggage out of the house. As he finished loading the taxi-cab van, he turned to us, and said in broken English…”I”ll be back in two days.”

Winter Quarter 2012: Day One.

With nearly everyone back from Winter Break, day one of Winter Quarter commenced. It began on the eve of a highly anticipated house meeting – one that had most people worried. Apparently, the house was trashed during Winter Break – from disgusting, but mostly benign moldy dishes, to the destruction and flooding of one of the upstairs bathrooms (think ripped shower curtains, urine everywhere, and the floor slightly caved). No one would take responsibility for the damage while most people were gone, and numerous fights on facebook broke out. With a mandatory house meeting called last night, most of us were thinking the worst, when in fact, it was one of the more mellow house meetings we’ve ever had. Everyone agreed the place was unacceptably messy, and that we should all try better to make it a happy, healthy home. End of story.

This morning we woke up to the flooding of the other upstairs bathroom with excrement and blood. It looks like someone in the house has a more serious problem than cleaning.

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