My roommate isn't what you would call a control freak, she's more like a sedated soccer mom whose Gloria Vanderbilt jeans are just a tad too tight; too composed to throw a fridge magnet at, but just passive aggressive enough to make you want to put laxatives in her soy milk.

Aside from the fact that having a few friends over on a Thursday night is "rowdy," and that she commandeers the television during primetime to watch lifetime movies and drink fuzzy naval wine coolers with her miniature boyfriend who reminds me way too much of Simon Camden, she has recently has taken a fascist approach to communal toiletries.

Yesterday I awoke to a post-it on the Q-Tips box that read "Stop using Cassandra's Q-Tips!" a box of Kleenex with "These tissues are Cassandra's! Are you Cassandra?"  written in permanent marker and finally, shaving cream with a note that read "Buy your own! I belong to Cassandra!" attached to it.  

First of, Q-Tips average… what, .05 cents each? Secondly, how paranoid do you actually have to be to count tissues? Thirdly, how the hell do you know I used your shaving cream? What if it was your boyfriend? O wait, scratch that, there's no way he can grow a beard.

Regardless, this girl makes Kate Gosseline look like a Care Bear.  And guess what crazy? I'm sure as hell using your shaving cream now, biaatch.

--Suzanne, senior