Monday, November 01, 2010

it's not rocket science, or is it?

There was a moment last night, at around 11pm, where the Brit and I had a rubber skeleton entwined around us.

There was wine involved.

Apparently it’s only in recent years that the Brits have thrown themselves into Hallowe’en.

Every pub you visit has that fake cobweb stuff strewn all over the paintings and light fixtures, and there are carved pumpkins sitting in every shop window.

Kids and chavs running amuck the streets.

Apparently it hasn’t always been like this. Britain has Americanised itself as a Hallowe’en nation, and frankly, it’s global villaging at its very best.

We went out last night – Sunday is fun day, especially with an extra hour of sleep as the clocks have turned back – and we caught up with another couple over gross quantities of wine at the Coat & Badge. A nice traditional little piss hole in Putney.

I had huge intentions of watching The Social Network, instead we got pissed and celebrated Hallowe’en on Sunday night.

Good thing too. I needed to let off some steam. Outside my house. Despite the fact that the roof has had some ‘makeshift’ supportive beams put onto the ceiling to stop any falling bricks from making their way onto my sleeping head, something else happened this weekend.

I may be a social networker, blogger, work in the media. But there are some things I am fiercely private about. And that’s my personal space.

I had a flatmate’s girlfriend go into my … sex private drawer this weekend to borrow one of my belts.

[Gasp]. Everyone freeze. Cataclysmically uncool state of affairs.

I’m all for borrowing and swapping shit, that’s the fun part of living in a communal house.
With one caveat: I'll get the stuff for you. Are you with me?
Don’t go rummaging around my drawer filled with dildos, condoms and other Sexy Time paraphernalia, dog.

Despite the embarrassment (“Oh my God she has a strap on, how will we ever do laundry together again?” ←---I don’t, but what if I did?), it’s my personal space. I get funny about this.
Unless you’re my best friend or boyfriend, step away from the closed drawers. Before I turn into Kathy Bates and chew your ear off in your sleep.

Perhaps I’m a bit tetchy and unnecessarily analistic about this. But then I ask myself: have I ever gone into someone’s room and rummaged through their shit without their express permission? No. And even in dire circumstances, I don’t want to know what’s hiding behind their closed drawers thanks very much.

And in my usual non-conclusive bad way of handling things like this (I'm out of practice, and don't want to be the bitch of the household), I haven't confronted the problem with the assertive forthrightness I would've liked. A passive aggressive 'oh right. I would've liked to have got the belt myself....but have a lovely evening!' just didn't quite mean: 'Don't ever ever do that again.'

Or maybe it did.

Pah. I'm annoyed.


Charmskool said...

birthdayI would have ripped her arm out of its' socket and beaten her around the head with it! I had a housemate (my house - she was staying because she couldn't find a flat)enter my bedroom while I was sleeping, switch on the light and take painkillers out of my private drawer. I didn't say a word. The next morning I gave her 24 hours notice to be out of my house. There are some things that just aren't acceptable. Private drawers are out of bounds!

Peas on Toast said...

charm - thank god. I was starting to wonder whether i was being ridiculous, and I should be chilled about this sort of thing. The truth is I'm just not. We don't go into other people's drawers, so why do they feel they can go into mine?

She asked to borrow the belt, fair enough, but I said I'd give it to her....and therein lies the fury.

Gak. I'm glad I'm not alone - and well done on being so assertive. I need to work on mine at the moment...

Secret said...

My last housemate used to go into my cupboard and take my clothes - which was not a train smash as I did the same to hers, but she always took my favourite things that I was planning on wearing - and had planned a whole outfit around.
So I always ended up calling her and asking her if she took my stuff with her and shes like "Oh yes, budd, I did" and I was like "Im gonna rip your fucking head off and burn your favourite shoes!!!!!"
Okay, not really, but it annoyed the shit out of me. So I started taking her stuff and keeping it just to piss her off.

Thankfully my current housemate (aka boyfriend) isnt much into my stuff, unless he develops a weird fetish for my underwear or something...?

Val said...

I'd be bloody mad if my kids went into any of my drawers!!! And at my age I have nothing to hide! :)
I would have been as mad as a rattle snake. Speak to her boyfriend and be assertive - you will feel better afterwards.
Loving your adventures. Val

Peas on Toast said...

secret- yirrr that would drive me beserk! I'd embezzle her stuff then bribe her to get mine back. Then lock my bedroom door.
How did you cope china? I'm getting excited about living with my dude now too.

Val - in theory I'd love to chat to her boyfriend about it, but don't want to be known as the House Bitch. I'm really bad with being assertive. I need some lessons, as you say, you feel much better afterwards.

Although that said, I think she got the message. I don't think she'll rummage again, so hopefully problem is solved!