So I have a problem. Turns out that we're not going to DC just for flower watching and eating. We're visiting my dad's cousin and will have to stay at her house for one night. I have a deep phobia of staying at other people's homes. Why? Because:
1. Nobody's house is as clean as mine.
2. Nobody's water glasses are as clean as mine.
3. Nobody's bathroom is as clean as mine.
4. Nobody's floor is as spotless as mine.
5. 98% of the Asian-American population does not like me. That's a fact. The other 2% is my family and their extremely small number of friends.
But this time I will be fucking prepared. I will bring sandals to wear in case the bathroom floor is encrusted with endless populations of hair strands. That is the number one thing that a person will need when staying at another being's household: Shoes, motherfucker. I'm fucking OCD if you haven't already noticed. One of the worst experiences that I've ever had at someone else's house was when my family and I would visit a family friend in Virginia, who had like three or four dogs and they would pee all over the floor all the fucking time. We weren't allowed to wear shoes in that house.
My dad's cousin also has a 6-month-old baby. That's going to be fucking awkward because I am not a caring individual; a baby to me is just like a giant lima bean that moves. And I would not like at one point to have to watch over them. There's always that fear of dropping them and causing a nasty pizza-like explosion happen all over your living room.
You have just made a deal with the devil.
Christina N. @ 10:09 PM
