Epic shit hit the industrial fan
Here we go folks.
I got up this morning and got ready for work like I always do. I was leaving my room to see if Laura was ready to go, when Angelica ambushed me. She was standing in the “chicken” and I turned to say “we’ll talk after work.” But not before I got through saying “we’ll” she interrupted me saying, again, “After this week, you are done here,” very angrily this time.
Things only snowballed from there.
I decided waiting until after work was not a good plan anymore, and at the climax of our argument Angelica had literally admitted to being a heartless, inhuman bitch who doesn’t care what happens to us. She also told me that we were arrogant and that Laura has no respect for her and that is not ok. I told her I can’t respect anyone who would kick two people out on the street in a foreign country.
Before the drama llama showed up, Angelica had told us that she thought of us as her own kids. My house is your house and if you need anything just ask, etc… Today she said she would kick her own kids out on the street. The only thing we have asked of her is to let us stay all summer, oh and to not unplug the router. Neither of those requests are active, or take ANY effort on her part. We were compeltely autonomous. And it’s only 3 more weeks.
She is also apparently mad at us because she is mad at Robin. She was saying that this is her house and Robin has no business, and he doesn’t want her to find a solution when she already has. I told her that Peter’s house isn’t a solution, it doesn’t have furniture or flooring. There are no beds, she has the only beds available to us, and that we have no where to sleep (and started tearing up a bit). But she didn’t care.
It was, as she said, “not my problem anymore.” She was completely pulling out of any responsibilty at all. I pleaded, I pitied, I tried logic, I tried crying, I tried anger and yelling. She was untouched, compeltely stone-cold. So I left the house furious; I believe my last words to her were something along the lines of “You are without a doubt, the worst person I have ever met. Ever.”
Laura and I rode our bikes to work, where I was still fuming. I announced that we had a row, and Robin came in to talk to us. He left on holiday today, but was in for an hour prior, which I was glad for. We (Robin, Peter, Laura and I) agreed to move, at my request, RIGHTNOW. So Peter took us over to Angelica’s were we packed up and I realised I was missing my wallet. Figuring I left it at work, I wasn’t worried about that. I was more concerned with getting everything and getting out.
We went over to Peter’s new place, which is nice except for the lack of floor and furniture. There is apparently a mattress at the office and we’re going to figure out some makeshift beds and a table after work today. Peter has a tub too, and I was dying for a bath the other night, so I might have to test that out. Unfortunately, one thing Peter doesn’t have yet is internet (I think the country is against my being connected to the outer world… even the internet at work went out while I was writing this 
), so if the neighbors all lock their tubes, then Laura and I will be at the office more often I think. Still a bummer though. Moar time for teh traditional artz I guess.
Peter’s place is 3 blocks from the saturday market though, which is neat. It also means we’re not completely lost again. I don’t know the neighborhood as well as Angelica’s, but I’m not on a disconnected island in the middle of the city at least.
Back to the wallet story though, we got back to the office and it wasn’t there. So I hopped on a bike and retraced my steps back to the bike storage unit Angelica has. Nothing. Ride back to the office. Still nothing. Check Peter’s car. Nothing. Panicking? Almost. I need my ID to get back into the country. Rechecked my bag…
found it. Thank God. I just put money in it too. I would have been out nearly 100€ and my CA ID, International Student/Health Insurance ID, my Blue Cross card (or whatever they are calling themselves.. Anthem?), car insurance and Wamu card. It would have sucked. Not something I need to deal with today (or any day).
All this by 11am.
However, this should be the final chapter in the Dutch-Housing Crisis of ‘09. Peter isn’t going to go ballistic and kick us out before we volunarily leave (I think), and we don’t have to acknowledge Angelica. Ever Again.
