The Frozen Californian Returns (Part Two of Two, What Joy!)

I sublet my apartment for the summer to a 30ish law student from Pennsylvania who had an internship in downtown Buffalo.

He and his (girl?)friend came to see the apartment one rainy day in April. All summer I've referred to him as "my handsome subletter," following that with: "He sort of looks like Dennis from 'It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia,' if Dennis were as good-looking as Dennis thought he was."

It's been odd, thinking about someone else in my space for over three months. I've had to be in contact with him for various reasons over the summer(when his passport got forwarded with my mail, for example, and I had to send it back. The real irony is that the passport was mailed from his friend in Washington DC, got all the way to Buffalo, and was sent on to me in Washington DC, ending up around the corner from where it was sent).

But it's even stranger re-entering my apartment after someone I've only ever met once has lived in it. It almost didn't feel like my apartment for a while. I had to walk around, turn on lights, catalog the changes. He'd moved my kitchen table, which is an improvement, and rearranged some things in the kitchen.

He seems very neat ... the neighbors inform me he would vacuum twice a day. I am now the proud owner of disinfectant wipes, bleach AND 409 with bleach. Somehow it seems so intimate to be familiar with someone else's cleaning products. He also bought organic dish detergent (my favorite brand), and Arm&Hammer laundry detergent (my favorite brand), and a dispenser of hand soap (not my favorite brand, but then again, I don't really have a favorite brand of hand soap).

He also left an assortment of hot sauces, a can of black beans, and two packages of organic monterey jack cheese in my kitchen.

And that's the end of this blog.

Go, and meditate on the signficance of the cheese.