Meet Joe Blog

So, one thing you guys should know is that, because our housemate formerly known as Michael moved out, his room--the biggest room in the house--had made itself available. Let me just note that Pat and Jorge's room is bigger, but it is shared by two people. Mike's room isn't as big as theirs, but the space to human ratio is far larger. My room was, while not the smallest, definitely the worst; thus it being the only one left over when I was the last one to move in back in Setptember. It was small, oddly shaped, and had two doors, one leading to the kitchen. This may seem nice, but only allowed for thousands of mice to migrate to my room and scamper over my possessions with glee whilst I slept. It also didn't have any blinds, which I attempted to remedy a number of times to no avail.

Seeing an opportunity arise upon Mike's exodus from De Witt, I politely inquired to DJ and Joe if either of them would like to take Mike's old room. They both said "No," and so I was golden. However, just before Joe left for Vegas, he claimed that he never said "No," he just said "I don't care, you can take it" which doesn't seem very different to me but one thing I know is to not get into a battle of semantics with Joe Sabia. Joe went on to mock the time-honored canon of "whoever calls it first, gets it". This is a staple in the legislation of guys, akin to "calling shotgun" or calling "dibs" on a girl. I was happy that for the most part, my other roommates stood beside me. Joe left for Vegas by saying, "I want that room, Gulyas." The words echoed in my nightmares.

Well, as you already know from my previous blogs, Mike moved out a little earlier than expected... conveniently enough, while Joe was still at The Comedy Festival in Vegas. Joe got home around 9:00 PM last night, and I had already moved into Mike's room. He took it better than I thought he would, but we have yet to see any future repercussions on Joe's part. Perhaps I've signed myself up for some bad karma though, because the second I started to load my clothes into Mike's old closet, the metal thing holding the wooden bar ripped out of the wall and now it looks like the thing is going to collapse. Figures, the second I move in, shit starts breaking.

Joe actually had a lot of good stuff to say about his trip. He learned a lot and shared all his knowledge. Seeing all these celebrities, there was a lot to learn about managers, agents, publicists, and the discrepencies between them. He learned a lot about style of communication in the entertainment industry; just how people talk to eachother for networking and not making it all seem like insencere bullshit. He also learned the definition of "a cougar". A cougar is an older woman who chases after younger guys. Apparently, a lot of these older women are managers, agents, and publicists who were there in Vegas. Joe got to witness their cat-like stalking of younger prey. Don't worry, Mrs. Sabia, he did so from a safe distance. Your boy is okay.

In other news, we got a little too liberal with DJ's "Hello, My Name Is..." stickers, but the plus side of that is we have a mysterious cabinet in our living room now that is sure to intrigue all guests:

You don't want to know what is in that cabinet. You really don't.

Also, we have a new roommate taking the place of Mike so that our rent will not go up for each of us. His name is Dylan Chatterjee, from Texas. He doesn't move in for another month and a half, as he is working on some reality show that takes place on an island (how novel!) and he'll be out of the country until it's done shooting. He is however paying us for that month and a half. Also, I pray he doesn't read the "thousands of mice scampering on my stuff" part, as he will be moving into my old room.