You are moving out because:

• You butter your toast before you put it in the toaster, leaving a fearsome greenish residue in there and forcing me to wake up every second day to a house filled with an odour not unlike the mould behind a hirsuite sumo wrestler's balls.
• The walls aren't "so thin" as you keep insisting, they're double brick.
• You refuse to believe that the "loud music I keep playing" is half-drunk 19 year olds in riced up mid 90s hatchbacks sitting at the lights outside. Look out the window. Are you blind? Deaf? Stupid?
• Our agreed policy of "washing your own dishes" isn't generally understood to mean "washing the dishes I own, leaving the dishes I used but someone else owns to one side and not washing them.
  
  For two weeks."
• Your "buttering" and "washing" behaviour attracts ants. It is not then my responsibility to "fix" this.
• If I go away for two weeks, it's absolutely within my fucking rights to give a close friend a spare key so they can look after my vegies. Four times. In two weeks. When you're not home.
• It is absolutely not within your fucking rights to get angry about this.
• If you bring around 12 buddhist friends and all chant loudly until 10pm, that's absolutely fine.
• Following on from the above by leaving a shitty note under my door because I was speaking on the phone in my room half an hour after they left (and "so noisy")... is NOT absolutely fine.
• Only two of us live here. There is absolutely nobody else in Christendom who could have possibly wanted or been able to move my vegies out of the limited sun on the balcony.
• Especially when your washing conveniently appears in the space they were using soon after they move.
  
  Repeatedly.
• No, I don't believe you didn't move them.
• Yes, I remember clearly where they were. I have photos, in fact. Can we move on now?
• I work 14 hour days. You work at most 8. You get up at 10am. If you say "I'm so tired" once more, I'm changing the locks.
• Your getting up at 10am means that you have absolutely NO justification AT ALL for demanding complete silence after 10pm.
• You wouldn't have justification for this even if you did get up early.
• You are clearly not suited to share housing. You need to live on your own.
  
  Far, far away.
  
  In a soundproof chamber.
  
  In Finland.

Fuck you, I quit. Mahalo.

Looking forward to some housemate evicting, lease breaking and couch sleeping. And a farewell to Fairfield "Northcote Heights".

So there it is. I haven't written anything in ages. One or two in comments apparently thought I disappeared somewhere, devoured and spat out by an international cult and left destitute in a seedy opium den in Denpasar.

Not so.

I ended up spending the rest of my trip travelling rather than blogging.

Then I worked. And got sick.

Then I moved. While sick.

Then I was sick. And I worked.

Then my new house became the International Institute of Fighting. And I worked. And I found out why I'd been sick (I'm never shooting up industrial grade methamphetamine in Warsaw again). And I worked.

And I went away, and I came back.

And I told my second housemate in four months to get the fuck out.

And I felt a little bit better.

And I determined, on the grounds of karma and general vibe, that this house is doomed, and it's time to break the lease.

So it goes...