Flatmate Finding

Flatmate finding is a tough little nut to crack. I must say from the start I have been exceptionally fortunate with the various flatmates I've had to date and miss them to this day.

There is a lot riding on it; the next 6 or 12 months will either be peace or war and subterfuge as you share your life with each other. So if you're like me and you want to keep your friends (I am an excellent friend and flattie but seriously I need my space and quiet time like the air I breathe), you must search further a field. In the beginning it's more about the place and then you meet the someone that's advertising. It's a complete stranger and you proceed to conduct something akin to a couple of rounds of speed dating. Going through your stats, your deets, your digits and your criminal history, if you have one (I don't. Seriously.) to size each other up for flattie worthy material.

Then there's the question of sex. Male or female that is people. If you're a girl is it better to live with a chick or a dude? Saffa T gave me a pretty severe lecture on this subject when I let my plan slip the other night. She actually became so passionate about how nightmarish boys are to live with that she began to raise her voice, her hands gesticulating wildly in Hitler-esque jabs. Scary. Even scarier that I didn't listen to her rant having now committed to moving in with the enemy. Da da daaaaaaaa. *screams*

You read correctly you guys, I'm moving in with a younger man. His name is Chuck. Chuck the Flattie. I've never lived with another man before, not even one I was nailing, so it's a grand new adventure. Chuck seems like a decent bloke, his credentials check out. I feel like I've adopted a little bro....