Argh! Why do all the good men have girlfriends and the rest of them just not good enough!?

I am Slightly Freaked.

A mouse squeezed into my room this morning at 4am through the gap under my door and then ran behind some boxes. I couldn't find it after that but i could hear it all night.

Hallppp...

Mouse Attacks Housemate in Bathroom.

My goodness. There are mice in my house.

For people who are not aware of my surroundings, i just moved into a 5 room house (yes, an actual House) on Macdonald and 4th. It's old and spacious like how they used to make houses. With space to actually live in the Living Room, dine in the Dining Room, and includes a porch and a back deck. There's even a lower floor, but that's rented out to some other dudes who, we suspect, are potheads.

7 of us live, cook , laugh, breathe in this creaky old house (which we thoroughly scrubbed, wiped, Swiffered, vacuumed, squirted cleaning product on; which is why we don't mind the oldness so much). I think my room was either a parlour or a drawing room or something, because it's right in front of the house and the first door you see once you open the front door. The wonderful thing about it is that it has three large windows set at angles to each other along one side of the room, forming a two-angled wall of windows, if you know what i mean. So, even though all my windows look into the windows of the house next to ours, i manage to get lots of light in the day which i am quite happy about.

Anyhow, the decision to write this post is the result of what must have been a nerve-shattering experience for Angie.

I was in the beginning stages of deciding to start my on my German homework when i realized that i (of course) could not do so without a cup of water. Flicking on the living room light, i walked mug-in-hand towards the dining room and spotted Angie's red shirt as she went to take a midnight bathroom break. I was about 2 metres from the dining table when i saw a little grey-brown blur scuttle madly out from the corner of the dining room towards the bathroom, scrabbling on the parquet floor. Approximately 1.5 seconds later, the most terrible, blood-curdling screaming exploded from the bathroom followed by a fleeing Angie sobbing about a mouse in the bathroom. The screaming quite made my hair stand because my first thought was that an apparition made an appearance in the bathroom, so how was i ever going to use that bathroom ever again you tell me huh? But! It was only a mouse! judging from the size and colour of it. I'd have been more sickened if it had been a rat, seeing as i've cut up some of those in lab before and i know quite well that they're not the prettiest rodents around.

The mystery of the night, however, was where the mouse went after being terrorized by a screaming Angie. We (being me and the men in the house who had bravely rushed out of their rooms in various degrees of undress to apprehend the Terror in the Night) ventured into the bathroom to look for the offensive mouse or at least to find out what hole it had used to escape. We found neither mouse nor hole, which left the bathtub drain, toilet bowl or heater vents as probable escape routes (unless it was hiding in Euken and Angies' laundry baskets, in which case: ew, i hope it's not pregnant.) Seeing as logic doesn't allow a 3 inch mouse to scale the side of the bathtub or be able to make a getaway by swimming down the sewage pipes down the toilet, the most obvious answer to our mystery was the heating vents. These, i wouldn't be surprised, are as old as the house and are not much more than rectangular holes in the walls with a wide-spaced grating over them. Most of these in the house have a metal flap that can be opened or closed, depending on whether the inhabitant of the room is partial to the hot air pouring from it or not. The bathroom vent did not have a flap however.

The possibility that the mouse escaped that way, therefore, begs the question of whether or not there is a slight chance that a colony of mice/rats/an assortment of bugs populate the house in addition to the 7 of us, in the heating system.

Living with mice has always been a phenomenon you read about in books when impoverished persons live in filthy wooden huts and have 10 children to feed with a scrubber-woman's salary and a fat drunken husband. But! No need for fantasy!

We proudly present, ladies and gents, our very own mouse breeding farm! (no but we'll speak to the landlady and make her do something about it. it's just gross.) Or maybe i can keep one as a pet. Hm.

Stop Being a Soppy Mess, Vera.

It's been 2 days and the thought of Juchee not here is still as horrible. I miss him like hell and i wish he were here. It's just not the same anymore - there's the sense of something missing that sends me in to an aching depression. And the fact that Michael's leaving too really isn't helping. I foresee more bawling and emo-silent-staring in store for the future. These dudes have been such a massive part of my life these past 8 months that now that Juchee is gone, it seems like a chunk has been unexpectedly ripped out and left me in a gaping void. Bloody Germans. I want my Sasquatch back! We all miss you so much, you must get back here!

Now see i'm crying again. I'm such a sop. Life should just shut up and stay the same. Or let me go to Germany next summer.