Okay...

So I realize that I still have this thing, and I haven't done anything with it in forever.  Seeing as all sorts of ridiculous things seem to happen to me, and my roommate Nathalie keeps telling me I should write them all down, I've decided to do just that.  Hopefully my ridiculous misfortunes will keep you all heartily entertained.

So Friday my toilet decided to explode.

For no good reason, mind you.  It's not like I've been abusing it or anything.  But I go to the bathroom, go and get my laundry, and come back to find an inch of water on the floor and water flowing out from my toilet.

If you know me, you know I'm somewhat of  a germ freak, at least when it comes to stuff like this.  And my toilet's timing was impeccable, of course, because I needed to leave for class in a very short while.  So I get a towel on the floor to try and stop the water from ruining my carpet, and proceeded to take the mop get ride of the flood that had erupted onto my bathroom floor.

After mopping up as much water as I possibly could, I called the landlords to tell them what's up.  She asks if I've accidentally flushed anything down there, and I told her that nothing's gone down there that doesn't normally go down a toilet.  She said that she was just asking because a girl who had rented my room previously had also had toilet problems, and only after they'd spent money trying to fix it did she deem it appropriate to tell them she'd accidentally flushed a compact down there.  I reassured my landlord that I was not as big of an idiot as their previous tenant, and she proceeded to tell me that they would come and check it out.

So lo and behold, I run into Nathalie on campus after choir, and she tells me that the landlords had already come and checked out my toilet, and that it was now fine.  I call them to see what's up, and during this conversation I find out that there was a part in my toilet that had broken, and the tenant previous to me had decided that duct tape was suitable enough to fix it.  I don't know if this is the same girl that flushed the compact down the toilet, but either way, my landlords seem to have rented out to some real winners before me, and now I'm starting to question my presence here, and if I will be the next to succumb to bouts of toilet stupidity.  As if they sense that I have already succumbed to these bouts, they ask if I was aware of this obviously unsuitable repair, which obviously I had no idea, because they hadn't told me about it and it's not like I inspect the insides of my toilet on a regular basis.  Or ever, really.  My landlord then proceeds to tell me that the part in question will probably be replaced in the future, and he also tells me that the water level in my toilet was too high, so he lowered it for me.  He also said that he tested my toilet to see if he had suitably repaired it, and that he had flushed it numerous times without it spewing all over the place, and that it was now once again safe for me to use.

So here I am, thinking about what a failure my plumbing has become, when I go to get the mail and run into Jessica, the girl who lives right below me, and I proceed to tell her my story of misery and woe, when she tells me that the same exact thing happened to her at around the same time it happened to me.  So apparently, this isn't just something that's wrong with my toilet, it's affecting more than one person.  And her landlords came over to my apartment, because it sounds like there are problems with other rooms in their apartment.

To top it all off, we found out yesterday that management is spending all of this money to redo the solarium (the center of my building that has an indoor pool, volleyball court, gazebo, and tons of plants), when really they should be spending it on other things.  Like fixing the plumbing.  And getting rid of all of the ants in our building.  I think management has their priorities screwed up.  I could care less about new sand, and a new gazebo, and getting a ping pong table installed under the gazebo, which is just creepy, because I'm pretty sure that's the place where they found the body of a dead guy here a few years ago (apparently Old Mill is haunted by his ghost too.  That's about the only thing that's making me like this place right now.  Besides my big bed.  And my own bathroom, when it decides it's not going to PMS and explode everywhere).  Ping pong?  Really?  HOW ABOUT TOILETS THAT DON'T EXPLODE?!  IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR, HIGHER-UPS?!  I should think not, but then again, what do I know?  I'm just a college student that doesn't want to live with the fear of my toilet deciding to hate me and spew it's guts everywhere.

On the plus side, I found out I got a 95% on my Intro to Greek and Roman literature midterm, which I didn't really study for until the day of and it was really long.  Go me!