My 2 roommates and I collectively double the Asian population here (Interestingly enough, I never really noticed the scarcity of Asians when I arrived in Louisville yet this past holiday week spent in California the abundance of Asians was so obvious it almost made me uncomfortable).  The dynamic of our apartment is odd, but I like it.  Due to an absence of living room furniture our communal socializing space consists of the kitchen and hallway floors where we sit Indian style
griping about work, talking shit, and thinking of nice things to say to negate the shit we talk.  Otherwise we hermit in our rooms and watch the same show on three TVs.  < span>Sometimes Patrick tricks me and hides in his room, pretending not to be there.  But he can’t go longer than several minutes before he has to make a gastrointestinal movement or expulsion of some sort.  I know you’re in there, Patrick.  I can hear Christie when she’s home but it takes awhile to actually find her:  I usually need a gps system to navigate through the clothes, stuffed animals and other miscellaneous “objects” strewn about her room.  It gets even more confusing when she decides to rearrange her furniture.  I’m always coming and going of which I’m pretty sure they’re both aware.  I would try sneaking out my window but lack the cunning so I use the front door.