Of the three individuals with whom I co-inhabit, the first is McCaul.
McCaul was the first person I knew in Very Strange Apartment prior to my move-in, and my extremely odd love-hate relationship with her can most easily be understood if you listen to the song 'Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth' by the Dandy Warhols...as I have, indeed, always known that she is insane. From the moment we met one another it's been glaringly evident that I am the reasonable Courtney Taylor-Taylor to her intelligent-but-fucking-crazy Anton Newcombe, and this dynamic has only increased in its scope since I began living in The Very Strange Apartment.
That being said, she's also kind of nice to be around in other ways. For one, McCaul at least knows the difference between there, their and they're, which is more than can be said of the other two, who I'll get on to at a later time. And she's a Cancer-Gemini cusp-er like me (though, as previously stated, her batshit Cancerian side is far more dominant than my own), resulting in us kind of getting each other in some fundamental way that defies the general logical standard of friendship.
To provide some insight into what it is like to live with McCaul: yesterday I found myself in said Strange Apartment with only her, which is a rare enough occurrence in and of itself, as she's usually off somewhere doing whatever it is she does all day that none of us can quite figure out. McCaul, who has recently quite literally kicked out one of our roommates for being a messy individual, made a bunch of noise in the bathroom for about half an hour, all the while audibly scoffing and huffing and puffing and making a general ruckus that led me to believe she was maybe possibly cleaning for the first time ever.
How wrong was I.
Upon her emergence from said washroom I was sitting at the kitchen table having a cigarette, as I tend to, and very politely asked her what she had been doing in the washroom for the past half hour. This was a simple enough question for someone to ask their friend/housemate, no?
God no! Nothing is ever as simple as it seems with McCaul, as my friendly "what were you up to in there?" was met with a four minute rant that went something along the lines of "ohmygod can I not do anything in this house without everyone fucking bothering me?!No one in the world gets me and my untapped genius, etc. etc...I am SO misunderstood by the fucking universe, etc. etc...and please just let me go to my room without bothering me...FUCK!"
Keep in mind that there were, as far as I know, absolutely no incidents leading up to this outburst of McCaul's; this is simply the kind of thing one comes to expect from her a few times a week on average. I nonetheless always find myself somewhat dumbfounded when met with her specific brand of crazy, and as such responded with a less-snarky-than-it-sounds-on-paper "I just wanted to know if you cleaned up in there", and proceeded to my own room to finish my cigarette, but not before surreptitiously checking out the state of the washroom (messier than before...how?!)
It's also interesting to note that no more than two hours later she invited me up to her room to have a glass of wine and listen to her talk about her on-again-off-again boyfriend. Which I did. The bathroom incident was never discussed. So I cleaned it myself.