It's time to get serious here.
I'm not even sure how I haven't blogged about this before. Perhaps it has become as natural and normal as breathing that I forgot to mention it. Perhaps I was trying to avoid talking (or blogging) about it. It can be somewhat of a taboo topic for some...I guess some people just get uncomfortable. But, I can't let it go unmentioned anymore. It is time to talk about the elephant in the room (or the next room in this case). That's right, boys and girls, I'm talking about my neighbor. The vomiter.
Side note: I was enjoying that build up and could have gone one much longer. I love that it made it sound like I was about to reveal some deep dark secret or something. Mwuh-haha...I laugh and tap my fingertips together. I fooled you this time.
Okay, a little background. So, I moved into my apartment at the end of March this year. My apartment leasing company was awesome enough to allow me to move in early since April 1st was in the middle of the week and it is much nicer to move on a weekend...when friends are off of work. Anyway, I moved out of a house that I lovingly call The Orphanage after living there for about a year and a half. It was very fittingly called The Orphanage, as in the year and a half that I lived there I had a total of eight roommates. That's right. The front door was definitely revolving. Needless to say, it was nice to finally get my big girl place and be alone for a little while. My first night here was odd. It was so quiet and no one was home...no one would ever be home but me. No one was there to say goodnight to me or turn out the light if I fell asleep with them on. It was just me in my quiet little....WHAT THE FUCK? Suddenly I heard the most violent vomiting that I've ever heard. And trust me, I've heard some violent vomiters. I used to asked my friend Stacey to quiet her vomiting when I was hung over because it was too loud and making me sick. No, no, this vomiting...the vomiting I heard on my first solo night in my apartment blew all other vomiters out of the water (the toilet water). This vomit was intense. As I lay in bed unsure of whether I am disgusted, impressed, or concerned I think to myself, "Wow, someone had a bad night." Without much more thought about it I rolled over and went to sleep. Yay new apartment.
I woke up the next day still super pumped about my new place. I had all but forgotten about the vomiter. I was too excited to be in my new place. Yes it was a big change, but one I had been looking forward to for a while. I spent the first day running errands, unpacking, and enjoying my new space. As I am sure everyone knows, moving is exhausting. My first weekend in my new place was not spent going out and celebrating. No, it was spent unpacking and going to bed early. So, I snuggled into bed for my second night in my new place and began slowly drifting off to...WHAT THE FUCK?!? He's back. Seriously dude, AA much?
What I learn was that the events (i.e. vomiting) of that first weekend were not going to be isolated. This dude meant serious business. Serious vomiting business. I came to learn that his vomiting didn't follow any schedule. Nope. He vomited in the day. Sometimes early evening. Sometimes at night. He wasn't time discriminatory. He lived to vomit on no man's schedule. The only thing that was habitual about the vomiting was the frequency and the rhythm. Oh yeah, three big hurls at least once a day. Every time. Always the same. Huwahck. Huwahck. Huwahck. Done. (Yes, h-u-w-a-h-c-k. That is how you spell the noise made by a vomiter. Look it up.)
The vomiter has become quite the legend amongst friends and family. Everyone knows about him. We all have our own theories as to what is causing this chronic vomiting. Alcoholism. Terrible gag reflex when brushing his teeth. Chemo therapy. Bulimia. Weak stomach. There are so many theories. All I know is that this guy is a mystery. Like Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster. I've never seen him. I've been living next to the dude for over six months now and have not seen him once. I really am beginning to wonder if he is he even real? It isn't just me though. I've had witnesses here to experience the vomiting. It is always the same combination of shock and amazement.
Okay, the other day I was awake at about 6am and he was up to his old vomiting ways when I realized that if I stood at my peep hole long enough I would probably see him exit his apartment. I couldn't bring myself to do it though. It is almost like how you don't want to know to real identity of a superhero. Next time I heard him vomit would be like the Christmas after you find out that there is no Santa Claus. It isn't even worth waking up at 5am to see what your mom bought you at the mall. It ruins the magic.
I did have a friend say that I needed to find out what he looked like because what would happen if I hooked up with someone and it turned out that the person I hooked up with was the vomiter. I shot this down pretty quickly because the fatal flaw is that I am pretty sure if I hook up with someone, regardless of whether it is my apartment or theirs....one of us would be all, "Hey, weird. We are neighbors." I would quickly gasp and be all, "Hey, weird. You vomit like all the time. What's up with that?"
In a way I feel like we are a match made in heaven. I once had a friend tell me that I spend like 60% of my time fake throwing up...this vomiter has given me so many more ways to work vomiting into conversation and to do some fake throwing up.
So, in a way, I guess I should really thank the Vomiter (that's right, he deserve a capital letter now) for all that he has done for me. Thank you Vomiter, you complete me. You had me at Huwahck....
I'm not even sure how I haven't blogged about this before. Perhaps it has become as natural and normal as breathing that I forgot to mention it. Perhaps I was trying to avoid talking (or blogging) about it. It can be somewhat of a taboo topic for some...I guess some people just get uncomfortable. But, I can't let it go unmentioned anymore. It is time to talk about the elephant in the room (or the next room in this case). That's right, boys and girls, I'm talking about my neighbor. The vomiter.
Side note: I was enjoying that build up and could have gone one much longer. I love that it made it sound like I was about to reveal some deep dark secret or something. Mwuh-haha...I laugh and tap my fingertips together. I fooled you this time.
Okay, a little background. So, I moved into my apartment at the end of March this year. My apartment leasing company was awesome enough to allow me to move in early since April 1st was in the middle of the week and it is much nicer to move on a weekend...when friends are off of work. Anyway, I moved out of a house that I lovingly call The Orphanage after living there for about a year and a half. It was very fittingly called The Orphanage, as in the year and a half that I lived there I had a total of eight roommates. That's right. The front door was definitely revolving. Needless to say, it was nice to finally get my big girl place and be alone for a little while. My first night here was odd. It was so quiet and no one was home...no one would ever be home but me. No one was there to say goodnight to me or turn out the light if I fell asleep with them on. It was just me in my quiet little....WHAT THE FUCK? Suddenly I heard the most violent vomiting that I've ever heard. And trust me, I've heard some violent vomiters. I used to asked my friend Stacey to quiet her vomiting when I was hung over because it was too loud and making me sick. No, no, this vomiting...the vomiting I heard on my first solo night in my apartment blew all other vomiters out of the water (the toilet water). This vomit was intense. As I lay in bed unsure of whether I am disgusted, impressed, or concerned I think to myself, "Wow, someone had a bad night." Without much more thought about it I rolled over and went to sleep. Yay new apartment.
I woke up the next day still super pumped about my new place. I had all but forgotten about the vomiter. I was too excited to be in my new place. Yes it was a big change, but one I had been looking forward to for a while. I spent the first day running errands, unpacking, and enjoying my new space. As I am sure everyone knows, moving is exhausting. My first weekend in my new place was not spent going out and celebrating. No, it was spent unpacking and going to bed early. So, I snuggled into bed for my second night in my new place and began slowly drifting off to...WHAT THE FUCK?!? He's back. Seriously dude, AA much?
What I learn was that the events (i.e. vomiting) of that first weekend were not going to be isolated. This dude meant serious business. Serious vomiting business. I came to learn that his vomiting didn't follow any schedule. Nope. He vomited in the day. Sometimes early evening. Sometimes at night. He wasn't time discriminatory. He lived to vomit on no man's schedule. The only thing that was habitual about the vomiting was the frequency and the rhythm. Oh yeah, three big hurls at least once a day. Every time. Always the same. Huwahck. Huwahck. Huwahck. Done. (Yes, h-u-w-a-h-c-k. That is how you spell the noise made by a vomiter. Look it up.)
The vomiter has become quite the legend amongst friends and family. Everyone knows about him. We all have our own theories as to what is causing this chronic vomiting. Alcoholism. Terrible gag reflex when brushing his teeth. Chemo therapy. Bulimia. Weak stomach. There are so many theories. All I know is that this guy is a mystery. Like Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster. I've never seen him. I've been living next to the dude for over six months now and have not seen him once. I really am beginning to wonder if he is he even real? It isn't just me though. I've had witnesses here to experience the vomiting. It is always the same combination of shock and amazement.
Okay, the other day I was awake at about 6am and he was up to his old vomiting ways when I realized that if I stood at my peep hole long enough I would probably see him exit his apartment. I couldn't bring myself to do it though. It is almost like how you don't want to know to real identity of a superhero. Next time I heard him vomit would be like the Christmas after you find out that there is no Santa Claus. It isn't even worth waking up at 5am to see what your mom bought you at the mall. It ruins the magic.
I did have a friend say that I needed to find out what he looked like because what would happen if I hooked up with someone and it turned out that the person I hooked up with was the vomiter. I shot this down pretty quickly because the fatal flaw is that I am pretty sure if I hook up with someone, regardless of whether it is my apartment or theirs....one of us would be all, "Hey, weird. We are neighbors." I would quickly gasp and be all, "Hey, weird. You vomit like all the time. What's up with that?"
In a way I feel like we are a match made in heaven. I once had a friend tell me that I spend like 60% of my time fake throwing up...this vomiter has given me so many more ways to work vomiting into conversation and to do some fake throwing up.
So, in a way, I guess I should really thank the Vomiter (that's right, he deserve a capital letter now) for all that he has done for me. Thank you Vomiter, you complete me. You had me at Huwahck....
4 comments:
OH gosh... whatever is all the Vomming about!!
I think bullemia...
You must must must set up camp and your peephole and see who it is! it would be pretty damn funny if it turned out to be a little old lady!!
Girls "puke"
Real women vomit.
Love this post.
I don't really know why I didn't write about him sooner. He really is this huge part of my life in the apartment. As disgusting as it sounds, I will be sad if he moves out. It really makes me laugh every time. (that is because in my head I have decided it is nothing medical....obviously that wouldn't be funny)
Oh gosh, this post made me laugh! I'd probably laugh if he was my neighbor too (even though I probably shouldn't, however I wouldn't be able to help myself having a dark sense of humor and all). Oh apartment living....
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