Dorm Refrigerator

https://www.walmart.com/ip/MS-3-2...9306168?at

... Travel 12v Portable Cooler Warmer Refrigerator by Coca-Cola, PB Red The... perfect for bedrooms, offices, or dorm rooms. The fridge is equipped...

.... النص الاصلي: Product: Retro Mini Refrigerator Company: GVC PRO Model: GVRG-129... use. • Ideal for bedrooms, offices, dorm rooms, and personal spaces. • Durable...

SALE STARTS SUNDAY 6/21 after 4AM ET https://www.target.com/p/whirlpoo...nk=s ametab

..., plus a safe and a dorm size refrigerator. The refrigerator is stocked with complimentary sodas ...

Mini Fridge 1.6 Cu.ft, Compact Small Drinks Refrigerator, Energy Saving, Adjustable Thermostat Dorm, Apartment, Bedroom, Black for $ 81.85 with code MYUSAFF12 https://www.aliexpress. us/item/32...50922.html

enipla: I’ve a Samsung refrigerator in the new house. Ice ... Ice Maker for Kitchen, Apartment, Dorm, and Basement with Viewing Window...

... accessory for your home, office, dorm, or RV. Sprite Obey your...accessory for your home, office, dorm, or RV. Coca Cola Polar...accessory for your home, office, dorm, or RV. Diet Coke Just...accessory for your home, office, dorm, or RV. Fanta Don’t you... accessory for your home, office, dorm, or RV. Coca Cola Classic... prevents accidental opening Rounded retro refrigerator silhouette and polished chrome door...

... has not yet received her dorm assignment (should be on Wed... Duke coffee travel mug . Using refrigerator from S24 as he’s moving... stay with us if the dorm is empty and we can...

... the landing pad, the two dorm buildings were directly behind the... to - filtered into their dorm room and was awed as... fine, and the double door refrigerator was fine. Of course, it... make or break the entire dorm in her eyes. Immediately, upon... with their time viewing the dorm, and sat with serious expressions... of moving into the shared dorm began… "Which bunk will you...

... maker as part of my refrigerator/freezer. I may watch a ... for college kids in their dorm rooms or perhaps people who ... lot on getting a high-end refrigerator/freezer with ice maker already ... easily, fast.......without having the refrigerator/freezer. Interested in knowing how ...

...? My first "not a college dorm room" apartment was a relatively... the last filter you changed? Refrigerator water filter, a couple months...

... a political debate with a refrigerator in his hotel room. Back..., Mike escorted Walter to his dorm and locked him in there ... weed.” “Just get in your dorm and go to sleep. I ...

... much today. Dropping offa dorm size refrigerator to a friend who had...

.... I will be transporting a dorm room refrigerator on Monday to a close... friend. Her refrigerator died Tuesday and delivery of ...

... trip. We were running a dorm room, refrigerator and using a an electric...

... small refrigerator in the corner - the kind you saw in dorm rooms...

https://www.target.com/p/whirlpoo...nk=s ametab $150 price STARTS SUNDY 5/17

... found a note on my refrigerator which said, at the pool ... notice tacked up on my dorm bulletin board which said I ...

... throat. Across the room, the refrigerator door swung open. Index rummaged ... a corpse in a student dorm would cause problems for you... women here in a student dorm this early in the morning...

From the link above, the cheapest cooling unit replacement is $875 and lot of labor involved. New dorm size refrigerator cost $140 and for just a bit more, you can get bigger size, who come on the market couple years ago. Now, inverter-driven refrigerator motors in household units are in use for about 20 years. Any guess when the technology will make it to RV designs?

... value.  Has an in-room mini (dorm) refrigerator and in the common area...

submitted by /u/PsychologicalBad1423 to r/dormrooms [link] [comments]

dorm student here. i have a kettle for cooking, but no access to a fridge or microwave whatsoever. i need ideas for when i want to cook in my room (campus food sucks), and enjoy something decent – healthy or otherwise.there's not a grocery store, but i can order groceries online. i cook ramen a lot (any suggestions on how to upgrade my ramen?). i also have made simple butter pasta with seasoning. need suggestions on: what to stock up on, shelf stable items things to cook given the limited ingredients p.s., i have access to packaged milk, as well as cheese (for immediate use) all help is appreciated :)))) submitted by /u/PsychologicalBad1423 to r/cookingforbeginners [link] [comments]

hello! sa mga dormers po dyan what if may need po kayo i-ref pano po? do u have a mini ref sa kwarto or cooler or may common ref po yung dorm niyo? iniisip ko kasi what if need ko magref ng gatas, leftovers, etc. 😭😭 submitted by /u/143yuna to r/peyups [link] [comments]

I’m trying to pick a mini fridge for a dorm setup but honestly it’s harder than I expected because a lot of them look the same on paper but people have very different experiences with them. Space is pretty limited in my room so I need something compact, but it still has to be useful for everyday stuff like drinks, snacks, and maybe some leftovers. I don’t really want something that struggles to keep things cold after a few weeks of use. Budget is around $150 to $250, but I’m okay spending more if it actually means better cooling and less noise. I keep seeing different sizes like 1.7 cu ft up to 3.2 cu ft and I can’t tell if going slightly bigger is worth the extra space it takes. Also not sure how important the freezer section is in these small fridges since some reviews say it’s basically useless while others say it’s fine for ice packs and frozen snacks. For those who’ve used a mini fridge in a dorm or small room setup, what size and type did you end up keeping long term and what did you regret buying? submitted by /u/HorizonboundyLip to r/Appliances [link] [comments]

Actually, the real question is whether each person should have their own refrigerator? submitted by /u/ResultDowntown3065 to r/depaul [link] [comments]

Shirtless and soaking, Chris Rose clears the waterfall’s cascade and wipes his eyes, unable to stifle a smile. He is happy, and he is home. He lives alone here in Swallow Falls State Park, a wooded enclave of soaring hemlocks, prehistoric-looking rhododendrons and rocky creeks in the mountains of western Maryland. Come fall, he’ll pack up his well-worn tent and camper for his annual southern migration to an even more remote national forest in Mississippi. These days, solitude suits him. In the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Rose’s column in The Times-Picayune gave voice to the grief, frustration, anger and absurdity of a battered New Orleans. He filed front-line dispatches from broken streets and his own frayed psyche, eventually collecting those dispatches in the best-selling book 1 Dead in Attic. Even as he shouldered the burden of a city’s collective trauma – thousands of readers reached out to him – he was bedeviled by alcohol, depression, anxiety and an addiction to prescription painkillers. He left the paper in 2009, then bounced around to other local media outlets. He hosted a French Quarter walking tour. He waited tables. And he drank – a lot. In 2021, following multiple hospitalizations and a near-fatal crisis in a Kenner motel, he was diagnosed with end-stage cirrhosis. He’d nearly succeeded in drinking himself to death. Faced with mortality, he disappeared. He says he quit booze, quit writing and retreated to the Maryland woods and waterfalls that first enchanted him as a teenager. In Katrina terms, he stripped his life down to the studs. He’s not sure how much he’s inclined to rebuild. “These have been the best three-and-a-half years of my life,” he says of his time in the wilderness. “Unequivocally.” The quiet and clarity have allowed him to reflect on his many highs and lows. “I’ve sown a lot of beautiful chaos,” he says. “And a lot of it not so beautiful.” An unseasonably warm afternoon in late June finds a sweaty Chris Rose clipping roadside wildflowers near the entrance to Swallow Falls State Park. The lines on his face are deep, but he otherwise presents as a relatively healthy and energetic 65-year-old. Pot gummies, legal in Maryland, help take the edge off his anxiety. “If I had known about that 30 years ago,” he says, “I wouldn’t be dying of cirrhosis.” He still smokes cigarettes, a habit he acquired as an extra in Oliver Stone’s JFK. Of all his addictions, “the hardest to kick has been news,” he says. “When you spend 35 years in the news business, it’s really hard.” He is Swallow Falls' camp host, a volunteer position that allows him to stay for months in exchange for cleaning campsites, answering visitors’ questions and otherwise making himself useful. He sees his primary duty as “protecting wildlife and trees from the deprivations of my fellow human beings.” He’s also a “craftsman with a rake.” Swallow Falls has 65 campsites; his has electricity. His red and white camper, which he pulls behind his Toyota 4Runner to and from Mississippi, contains a dorm-sized refrigerator and a microwave. He lives “like a pioneer – a pioneer with a vacuum cleaner and a French press.” He usually sleeps in a weathered 12’ by 14’ White Duck tent furnished with an inflatable mattress, a lamp, a bookshelf and a flea market end table. Owls swoop overhead. Not long ago, he and a bear startled one another. He keeps his campsite tidy, in part, so snakes stay away. “This life is not easy, but it’s simple,” he says. “I have everything I need and I don’t need anything I don’t have.” He visits New Orleans in the winter while based at Clear Springs Campground inside Mississippi’s Homochitto National Forest. But he doubts he’ll ever live in a city again. “I don’t function particularly well on concrete anymore. I always have a smile on my face when I’m driving back to the woods.” His current circumstances are the opposite of his privileged upbringing three hours east of the park in Chevy Chase, Maryland. His father, Dr. John C. Rose, pioneered diagnostic cardiology techniques and was dean of Georgetown University’s School of Medicine. His mother, Dorothy, was a graduate of Georgetown’s nursing school. They were married 65 years and raised five children. Christopher – he hated being teased as “Christopher Robin” as a boy – attended Georgetown Preparatory School, a Jesuit institution in suburban Washington D.C. that was founded in 1789. Rose smoked joints on the school’s nine-hole golf course between classes. As a University of Wisconsin journalism major in 1980, he and a buddy road tripped to Texas for spring break. A storm chased them to Florida, then New Orleans. The duo’s one night stand involved Bourbon Street, booze, jazz and “these beautiful Scandinavian girls.” After graduating, he landed a job in the Washington Post mailroom. A baseball player, he pitched an idea for a first-person narrative about trying out for the Pittsburgh Pirates. The story scored him his first Post byline. In 1984, he took a job as a crime reporter in The Times-Picayune’s West Bank Bureau. He eventually transitioned to writing features and columns for the Living section. He was often a character in his own stories. He infamously wrote that Kentwood native Britney Spears “put the ‘ho’ in Tangipahoa.” He was all-in, all the time – second-lines, Jazz Fest and Mardi Gras alongside his wife, Kelly, and their three children. Katrina changed everything. The week before the storm, Rose covered a “naked sushi party.” He also interviewed actress Lucy Lawless. Days later, Fitzgerald’s was underwater and Rose’s days as a celebrity stalker were done. He rode shotgun as the city clawed its way back. For returning residents and far-flung exiles, he was essential, emotional reading. A self-published collection of his post-Katrina columns sold 65,000 copies. Simon & Schuster released an expanded edition of 1 Dead in Attic that became a New York Times bestseller. A Pulitzer Prize finalist, Rose spent hours autographing books. He was a rock star columnist, experiencing the “great karmic payback” of being hounded in public just like he once hounded celebrities. “It drove my kids crazy, because we couldn’t eat anywhere. Those were great years. I’m lucky. I got to have a couple dreams come true. “I’ve had a great life when I haven’t been getting run over by busses.” One particularly hard hit was opiates. Rose’s addiction, coupled with depression, anxiety and an alcoholic bent that predated the storm, made for dark days and nights. Much damage was done to himself and others. In 2007, the newspaper sent him to rehab following an intervention. His marriage ended. In January 2008, the Columbia Journalism Review published a profile titled The Redemption of Chris Rose. They described him as, “like his city and his newspaper, a survivor.” His redemption story proved premature. He and his columns grew angrier. After he was arrested, the paper sent him to rehab a second time. In 2009, Rose accepted a buyout offer and left the Picayune. “The paper treated me great during my good years and the rough ones,” he says. As a freelancer, he never found professional – or personal – stability. He taped TV commentaries, hosted a radio show, and sold artwork in local markets. He wrote for various publications and a Treme episode on HBO. His drinking accelerated after a bad breakup around 2014. Gatorade mixed with vodka became a go-to. The Columbia Journalism Review checked in again in 2015. The title: The Irredeemable Chris Rose. He drifted through New Orleans neighborhoods, eventually living in a small apartment near City Park. During the pandemic, he lived with a jewelry designer in Lacombe, until the Secret Service showed up after an alarming Facebook post. When that relationship ended, he slept in his car or on a friend’s couch. By then, he was drinking every morning to stave off withdrawal. “It was kind of a blurry summer,” he says. “I’ve had to consult with them to find out where I was at certain times.” In April 2021, Rose decided to scout out Puerto Rico. The night before his flight, he checked into a motel and began hallucinating. An ambulance took him away. His organs were failing. Doctors said he wouldn’t have survived the flight. He was hospitalized several more times that summer. After each discharge, he returned to drinking. His brother Richard finally got him into a hospital in Maryland. That’s when he first heard the words “end-stage cirrhosis.” He spent three months recovering at a friend’s home, bloated with ascites. “I looked like I was 14 months pregnant with twins.” With little left to lose, Rose remembered Swallow Falls. He took a volunteer camp host job in Maryland. Eventually, the Swallow Falls position opened. He had first slipped behind the park’s Muddy Creek Falls as a teenager. “It changed my life,” Rose says. “You come out the other side…that’s my Jesus right there.” In the early evening darkness, Rose grills steak, sweet potatoes and corn. He lights candles as the forest comes alive. He checks the meat carefully. An infection could kill him. He lost his sense of smell years ago, so he throws away anything expired. “How do I die? I drink, or I get an infection,” he says. “The next time I get sick, I won’t be coming out of the hospital.” He’s an organ donor but doubts his organs are of use. “Maybe somebody can use my corneas.” He figured he had two years left. He gave gifts. Took trips. Got tattoos. He now depends on Social Security, Medicare, and rent-free park living. Twenty years later, Katrina has faded. “1 Dead in Attic” isn’t in his tent. Katrina is part of his story, he says, but not part of his present. He is mostly alone, talking to animals and sometimes trees. “I was a very social creature. I never had anything against people, but I’ve learned that I can do real fine without them.” He’s read over 80 biographies. He’s profoundly untroubled. “I’ll take long walks and look around and realize I don’t really know where I am. But as long as there’s still a trail, I can go back that way.” There are trails he’d like to retrace – especially with his children, now estranged. He bought a laptop. Dictated some notes. Nothing coherent yet. Maybe a memoir someday. “I just haven’t felt like it,” he says. Meanwhile, there are campsites to clean and waterfalls to chase. Long past midnight in the woods of Maryland, his candles burn low — but still give off a little light. Maybe Chris Rose can, too. “This cat’s on his ninth life,” he says. “And it’s a good one.” submitted by /u/bittah__conqueror to r/NewOrleans [link] [comments]

I would like to put my refrigerator under my bed. I need to have my own refrigerator in my room due to dietary needs. I don’t want to inconvenience my roommate by having it out. I was wondering, is there enough room under the med bed if it is fully lofted. I read that the lofted beds are 32 inches in height, but every refrigerator seems to be about 33. Do you think they would fit under the loft at Bed? Also, is there room for two refrigerators in the freshman dorms? I don’t want to inconvenience my roommate. submitted by /u/Background-Ad-6203 to r/bostoncollege [link] [comments]

I'm a parent of a student who will be going to CSUN this fall. Does CSUN work with other vendors for Dorm Room Bedding packages/bundles? Also for their dorms do they work with any organization that rents out refrigerators and microwaves and delivers them to the dorms before move-in? submitted by /u/Happy_Shorty9367 to r/csun [link] [comments]

Refrigerator almost hits a dorm student due to strong winds. submitted by /u/Dhruv_Plankton97 to r/Unexpected [link] [comments]

How strict is UHDS on these items? Website says you can bring a 3.2 cu ft fridge if it is Energy Star certified and a microwave if it is part of a micro fridge combo. I’d like to bring separate fridge and microwave, and the more affordable compact fridges are not Energy Star certified. The micro fridge combo is ridiculously expensive and doesn’t look high quality. submitted by /u/Nervous_Tiger8196 to r/OregonStateUniv [link] [comments]

I had a roommate in my college dorm that drove me nuts. She’d take my food, leave her half eaten food all over the place, and our room was disgusting. I’d try to keep my side clean but I’d find her stuff on my side no matter what I did. One time I found one of my bowls with mac and cheese in it that was so moldy I think it was like the colony that grew on bender’s butt on futurama Anyway I couldn’t take it anymore, and by luck my best friend’s roommate was leaving at the end of the semester and she asked if I wanted to move in. I decided to not tell my current roommate that I was moving and just packed stuff up little by little. I think she thought I was just taking stuff home for the semester or just cleaning again, I dunno but she never said anything. I got most of my stuff out except my tv and refrigerator, and she was actively watching my tv. My friend unplugged my fridge and I grabbed my tv and we started walking out. She yelled “wtf I was watching it?!” And I just shrugged and said “sorry I’m moving out, see ya” It felt good, and she never spoke to me again lol submitted by /u/AquamarineJello to r/pettyrevenge [link] [comments]

Looking for a compact fridge for drinks, snacks, or skincare? Compare thermoelectric vs. compressor models, noise levels, and energy efficiency. Brands like BLACK+DECKER and Midea dominate—which one keeps temps the most stable? submitted by /u/AutoModerator to r/ProductsAdvice [link] [comments]

My girlfriend and I live together in our apartment. Recently, one of her friends—who I’m not particularly close with—asked if she could come over just to use our kitchen. She lives in a dorm but says the kitchen there is too dirty to cook in. That already felt strange to me, because I barely know her, and it’s not like it’s an emergency. But what made it even weirder is that my girlfriend told me we should feel honored that her friend asked us instead of someone else. That rubbed me the wrong way—it felt kind of entitled, like we’re supposed to say yes out of flattery? Also, this isn’t a situation where the friend is in trouble or starving—she has a meal plan and can eat at the dining halls. It’s not like she doesn’t have options. She just suddenly wanted to cook something and decided her dorm kitchen was too gross. My guess is she remembered our place being clean because we hosted her (and others) a few times for dinner. But here's the thing: this wasn’t a social request at all. It wasn’t like, “Hey, want to cook together sometime?” or “Could we hang out and cook?” It was literally just “Can I use your kitchen to cook my own food.” That’s it. No invitation to connect or spend time together—just a one-way request to use our space. Another important detail: I’m the one who uses the kitchen 99% of the time. I do almost all the cooking and the dishes, so it feels like my personal space in the house. It's not just a shared utility room to me—it's where I do something I actually enjoy and take care of both of us. So letting someone else use it, especially someone I don’t know well, isn’t something I’m automatically cool with. For what it’s worth, I’m not against helping out her friends. Over the summer, one of her other friends—who I really like and would love to be closer to—stayed with us for a week because she didn’t have a place to stay temporarily. We both agreed to it, and of course she had full use of the kitchen and everything else. It felt mutual and respectful. But this current situation doesn’t feel the same. It was just a request out of nowhere, with no real context or urgency, and it caught me off guard. Also, I’ve had a negative experience before with one of her other friends, who turned out not to be supportive of our relationship. So I know I might be a little guarded now. When I reacted like, “WTF? That’s weird,” my girlfriend told me I was overreacting and being rude about her friend. Is this kind of request normal and I’m just being too sensitive? Edit: If it were just a one-time request, I honestly think I’d be okay with it. But she wanted to use our kitchen for a whole week, including sharing our refrigerator space — and we live in a pretty small one-bedroom, one-bath apartment. That’s what made it feel like a bigger ask than it initially sounded. Edit: She literally asked us to share our kitchen for a whole week. She mentioned wanting to cook things like chicken breast and avocado toast, and it sounds like she’d want to make it every day. She also asked about using our fridge to store things. Edit: Thank you everyone for your responses! Sorry I couldn’t reply to each one individually. I really appreciate all the perspectives — it helped me see the situation from different angles. Even though I still feel it’s a bit much for someone to ask to use our kitchen for a whole week to cook toast and whatever she wants to cook without any important events, I’m considering giving her a chance and seeing how it goes. Also, my girlfriend mentioned that her friend doesn’t have her own pots or cooking tools, so I’d be sharing mine too — which adds to the ask a bit. Like someone mentioned, I was mostly worried this might just be the beginning and that it could become a regular thing — but I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Thanks again for all your thoughts and input! submitted by /u/Pikachu930 to r/AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/techstar2000 to r/AllElectronicsDeals [link] [comments]

Tubs of butter are taking up all the room in our tiny fridge Originally posted to Ask A Manager Original Post Feb 14, 2019 I had no idea this would be the hill I wanted to die on, but here we are. In our office, on our floor we have a kitchen area with a small dorm-sized fridge. There are 13 of us in our little area although with part-time and working from home, six to 10 is more normal most days. The bottom of the fridge is taken up by the office milk leaving two rather small shelves. Often people pop out at lunch and get some shopping and fill the fridge after lunch but at that point everyone has taken out their lunch and its mostly ok, although sometimes very difficult to shut. The problem is the six full sizes tubs of margarine/butter. Seriously. Of 13 people, there are six of these. Sometimes five, but usually six. I first brought this up jokingly that this was ridiculous and a couple people defensively said they were sharing. This is a tiny fridge. With their six tubs and if I am not first in, I cannot put my lunch in the fridge. I have started bringing a cold bag or something that doesn’t need refrigeration. I mentioned that each tub is bigger than 1/13th of their share of the fridge and I just get “but I have toast in the morning.” Sigh. I just think it’s so selfish and I’ve been as up front about it as I can think and people just do not see that a full sized tub is too big for a teeny shared fridge. I’m annoyed but not insane, this isn’t a management thing, but I would like to understand why their big tubs of margarine trump my lunch. You may just advise I take up meditation or up the martial arts training to channel my aggression but maybe you or the readers have a brilliant suggestion here to transform coworkers into sensitive space sharers? I really really like a cold diet coke. Update June 7, 2019 Thank you for answering my question. Unfortunately getting a larger fridge was not going to happen. The building manager laughed when I asked. Really laughed. Like head back full mirth. Other departments with more people have the same size fridge so it was never going to happen. Your readers were so helpful though and it really enabled me to clarify my thinking here. I realized what I was bothered about was the lack of cold Diet Coke. I could live with merely cool lunch, but not having that cold Diet Coke felt massively unfair next to their big space-hogging butter. One of your readers also suggested using an emptied butter container for the Diet Coke as well, which pleased me immensely. That way it wouldn’t get knocked over or taken out of the fridge for someone else’s lunch. So I have attached two photos. First is the Diet Coke in a clean empty butter container and the second is our fridge when I was first in the office — mine is the Country Life container front and center. Please note the other five butter/margarine containers that live in there as well as the Dairylea, which technically is a cheese spread but I think should count here. For the record, I take the empty container out of the fridge when I’ve had my Coke at lunch so if anyone gets some shopping they can put it in the fridge until they take it home. I’m not a monster. I have cold Diet Coke and feel satisfied at the subterfuge which allows me to put up with this insanity. Thanks again for the response and reader support. OOP Provided 2 pics if the butter Tubs The tubs First Pic a can of Diet Coke in a butter tub Second Pic a shot of the fridge with 7 butter tubs THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

I am not The OOP, OOP is [deleted] My [21 F] roommate and best friend [20 F] threw out my abortion pill and has generally gone insane. I have no idea what to do. TRIGGER WARNING: abusive behavior, abortion, possible mental health crisis, destruction of property Original Post May 6, 2014 My best friend Sarah and I have been (had been?) friends since she was a freshman and I was a sophomore at our college (about 2 years since I met her). We were assigned to be roommates and got along great and decided to room together for the next year (my junior year). We never had any problems before this and were inseparable. We are even in the same sorority and have the same major (nursing). A few weeks ago, I found out I was pregnant by my boyfriend Harold [22 M] (we've been dating 1.5 years and he's a wonderful man). We both discussed what to do and decided that abortion was the best choice for both of us. I decided to have a medical abortion and since Harold couldn't drive me to the clinic because he had a final, Sarah agreed to go with me. Sarah was originally very supportive and held my hand as I took the first pill in the office. She was in the room when the doctor explained that I should take the second pill after 24 hours and that I would have to do it at home. Harold came over after his final and kept me company and spent the night. After a night of cramping and bleeding, I woke up yesterday morning to find that the second pill was missing from it's pack. I put the pill on my nightstand so that I wouldn't lose it. The pack was still there, but the pill was missing. Sarah is the only one with access to my room (we have separate rooms but share everything else). I asked Harold if he had messed with the pill, and he said no. Why would he, if he doesn't want this child any more than I do? So that left Sarah as a suspect, so I waited until she woke up to ask her about it. That's when she flipped her shit. She started screaming at me how I was a baby killer and that she hopes I bleed out from the abortion. Then she told me that she had a dream that my child would grow up to cure Ebola (I could not make this up) and that she threw away my pill to protect my child, as well as the extra birth control packs I had gotten from the school nurse to last over the summer. She took photos and uploaded them to Facebook with the caption "OP is a baby killing whore who can't keep her legs shut!" Luckily, all of her friends and our sorority sisters instantly defended me and told her how crazy she was. Reddit, I'm stuck in the same room as her for all of our summer classes, which will last until July. We are in the same sorority and will have to see each other twice a week until I graduate. Is there anything I can do legally? Is what she posted online illegal (she is a nursing major in clinicals)? I'm so fucking confused. tl;dr: Went for a medical abortion, roommate flipped her shit and threw away my medication. We have to live together for the better part of the summer. Edit: I'm cross posting this to /r/twoxchromosomes. I've already gotten another pill Second Edit: Sorority just texted me. The last meeting of the year will be concerning Sarah's violation of the sorority code of conduct. Apparently this is not the first time this has happened. Majority vote decides on whether she's kicked out or not. *Edit Three: I tried to update in another post, but the mods say I have to wait 48 hours as per the new rule. So you all will have to wait :) * RELEVANT COMMENTS OOP replying to a deleted comment OOP I've sent them emails already about it, but because it's summer only one dorm building is open. Even if I switch rooms, I'll still run into her. It's a crappy situation. We are both nursing students, and I know this is a violation of my medical privacy. I've thought about reporting her to the nursing board at our college so that she might be kicked out of the program (we all had to sign ethics pledges that directly involved this). My sorority sisters are firmly on my side about this. They know I've been with Harold for a year and that I don't sleep around (Sarah is the one whose reputation reflects badly on the sorority and it's been brought up before). The cramps are actually almost non existent at the moment, but I'm not sure if that's because I missed the second pill or not [deleted] "I've thought about reporting her to the nursing board at our college" Don't think about it - do it. What if you were her patient? OOP I'd probably punch her in the face if I were her patient. The only reason why I'm hesitant to report it to the nursing board is because I'm also a nursing student and there might be a huge backlash. Her actions have proven that she is incapable of keeping medical information private and that she is unfit to be a nurse, so I might send it to the state board so that when she applies for her license she will be denied. Update May 8, 2014 A lot of people asked me to update what happened, so here it is. The mods originally removed this update due to the 48 hour update rule, but enough people asked for me to post this that I will, and then I can finally delete this account. This is a direct copy/paste from the removed update and none of the major details have changed so far. Still no word from Sarah about this. Edit: A lot of you think that I was too extreme, but there was nothing I could have done to make her get help. I miss my best friend more than any of you critics could ever realize. Don't judge me for doing what was best for everyone involved, including myself. Her right to sympathy ended when she deliberately chose to steal from me, slander my name, destroy my laptop and possessions, and when she refused help from everyone who tried to help. Original I will try to make this as clear as possible, even though I'm typing it during a work break. Immediately after I posted on Reddit, a lot of you had the same advice to report her to the nursing board, residence life, the nursing department at our college, to the police, to the sorority, and to her parents. I decided to report her to all of the above while hiding at the sorority house. Early yesterday morning was when Sarah made her Facebook post about me, and it took only until after lunch for my sorority sisters to start texting me like mad. This was not the first time that Sarah had shamed another sorority sister for having an abortion, and that particular woman (we will call her Emily) was one of the highest ranking members. Emily was the one who called the meeting to have Sarah kicked out for breach of the code of conduct (treat all your sisters kindly, support one another, no gossiping, etc). Meanwhile, Residence Life was busy trying to contact Sarah's parents after I showed them her facebook rants. After the sorority contacted Sarah, she flipped out yet again on Facebook and started to rant about how she wanted to die. The RA on duty (also one of my good friends) had decided to go speak to her to see if they could help. At this point, it was clear to everyone that Sarah was not right in the head, because she was screaming at her through the door crack. Sarah refused to answer the door, so the RA decided to escalate it higher and no one saw Sarah until the sorority meeting. The Sorority Meeting At the meeting, everything seemed to be okay. Sarah was the last person to arrive and she just took her seat and acted normal. It was eerie to see her gush over everyone only hours after she pulled her stunt. Only about half of the sorority was present, but the president decided to proceed regardless. It only took two minutes for us to vote unanimously to kick her out. Emily sat next to me the whole time. To put it mildly, Sarah did not take this well. She turned bright red, spit on the ground in front of Emily and me, and ran out of the room screaming. We called campus police on her as she left. After the Meeting Sarah returned to our dorm room. The Res Life Administrator tried to speak to her, but she refused to answer the door for over 20 minutes. They had to call the police to kick down the door because she was holding the handle on the inside so they couldn't unlock the door. The police showed up, kicked down the door, and found the dorm destroyed. All the furniture had been smashed (or scratched if it was too heavy), the carpets were covered in food from the refrigerator, and she had painted random swear words on the wall in what looks like blood (but she had no scratches on her, so who knows where the blood came from). The found photos of Harold covered in lipstick in her purse (this wasn't like a kiss mark from lipstick, but more like she used a lipstick to entirely cover Harold's face like a crayon). She resisted the police trying to peacefully convince her to accompany them to the hospital. Sarah was taken to the hospital and charged (I'm not sure what the exact charges were, but I am aware that it includes unlawful posession of prescription medication because they found my pills in her purse and they had my name on the labels). She is still in the hospital today undergoing a psych evaluation. The Hospital Sarah and I were both interns working for the hospital that operates the pregnancy clinic. I reported her to HR for theft, harassment, and privacy violations along with giving them screenshots from Facebook. As of this morning, Sarah did not turn up for work so she was terminated for no call no show. HR had me in their office for an hour this morning asking if I would like to press for a HIPAA investigation (It turns out that some of her facebook rants had information that could only be obtained through patient records. I have no idea what information it was since it was the HR lady who found it). I said yes, because there's no way it would hurt for Sarah to be investigated. HR also notified the Nursing Board and the Nursing Department at my college independently of my reports. So I think that's pretty much everything. Sarah has been arrested and charged, kicked from the sorority, fired from her job, kicked out of the dorms, and numerous reports were made to the proper authorities. I still care for Sarah with all of my heart, because I realize that she is severely mentally ill. I will always blame her for what she did to me, but I know that it wasn't the best friend that I knew for all those years. It was a different person who did that to me. I am feeling physically fine after all of this. Harold and I are talking about getting an apartment off campus together. If that doesn't work out, I will stay in the sorority house. Sarah's parents have promised to pay me back for the abortion costs ($400) because they know I didn't do anything wrong. I'm grateful that I have their support. TL;DR: Sarah has been arrested, everything turned out okay. You should probably read the whole thing for details. RELEVANT COMMENTS possibly_a_coyote I hope she gets the help she needs to return to a normal life. OOP Me too. I hope one day she and I can be friends again, but it can only happen if she gets help. It's so uncharacteristic from the girl I used to know possibly_a_coyote Sometimes, people just go crazy. Some friends of mine in college had a roommate who was the nicest, sweetest girl you could imagine, and then one day they woke up to her going crazy in the kitchen, putting butter and syrup in her hair like she was a pancake. Her parents picked her up and we never heard from her again. ~ intended_result This is just sad all around. OOP I agree, now that I've had time to reflect. I did what I had to do, but Sarah is on a long road to recovery and that's the only thing I could hope for. ~ [deleted] I have a son who descended into mental illness at around the same age. What you did for your friend was really what she needed. Now she can get the help she needs before she is too deep into the mental illness. From mom's of adult children with mental illness, I thank you! You are going to be an awesome nurse. If you have the backbone to do this, you will have the backbone needed to fight for your patients and that is such a good quality for a nurse, from a patient's point of view anyway. You are an incredibly strong woman. I am so sorry this all happened to you when you were going through such a difficult and stressful time yourself. I am proud of you so I am sure your parents will be proud of you. I think your roommates parents will be thankful to you as well. Good luck to you! OOP Thanks for this! Her parents are actually glad that she was arrested, because she wouldn't have gone to the hospital any other way (we tried to convince her to go and she wouldn't budge). I hope I keep my backbone through this, but even though it's hard I still care so much about her and I will be checking on her through her parents on a regular basis. ~ Toasterferret On behalf of nurses everywhere, thank you for reporting her. Someone like that would have ended up hurting or killing a patient sooner or later. Best of luck with your finals! THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

Brock move in website on allowable appliance says the max size of fridge is 5 cubic feet. I got a 7 cubic feet fridge forgetting the size limit. Is that going to be a problem? submitted by /u/Osato1243 to r/brocku [link] [comments]

For context, I met Thomas when we were randomly assigned to be roommates our freshman year of college. Nothing seemed to be off with him back then - yeah, he was out a lot and came back late at night, but I always figured he was just having fun with friends. It’s not like I wasn’t doing the same. We had four semesters of living on-campus. Two years. In that time, he never struck me as particularly eccentric. Maybe a few little things, like how he never put any food in our minifridge, but nothing that warranted genuine concern. It wasn’t until we moved into an apartment that things started to become strange. I moved in about a week after he did, a few days before classes were going to start. I was supposed to come in at the same time, but my aunt died and I needed to help my dad with some aftermath there. It would’ve kept me longer had the start of the semester not snuck up - but that’s beside the point. We viewed the apartment together initially, and it was a pretty nice, cozy place. Not exactly modern, but sure as hell cheap enough to make it worth it without said price being shady. Neither of us were bothered. But when I was finally able to move in, the place looked worse for the wear, somehow. Significant enough that I noticed immediately. The paint in some places had started chipping severely, something Thomas didn’t even react to when I pointed out. The floors were mostly fine, but a few of the boards creaked particularly loud, which I hadn’t noticed at our viewing. Again, enough that it bothered me, and still not enough for Thomas to give a damn about it. Then there was the fact that the lock to the remaining bedroom, mine, was broken. A problem not very easily fixable on a college budget. I asked Thomas about that one, making sure he actually answered me, but he just kind of shrugged it off and told me he hadn’t noticed it. But, still. Okay. Whatever. Weird, but probably not a big deal besides losing our security deposit. It didn’t matter. The semester started, and the weeks progressed. And that was when I started noticing things about Thomas. Living in an apartment instead of a dorm was the most distant he’d ever been. It’s not like he was ever super talkative, but now it seemed like he’d only glance my way and move on - unwilling to do more. In fact, he only really talked to me if it was to snap at me about being clean, or quiet. With the former, he was only a little bit of a clean freak back in our dorm. Incessant about his own side, but he only got really pressed about it if any of my mess seeped into his. Here and now, though, it really shined through how bad it was. He never touched my room, or anything, but the rest of the apartment had to be spotless or he’d be pissed. A few times more recently, he’s thrown out my stuff because I “hadn’t touched it in too long” whatever that means. Nothing devastating, but one of those things was a spare charger I had to dig out of the trash and then get sprayed down with Febreze for. Nothing short of annoying, is what I’m getting at here. Why he suddenly became really anal about it was anyone’s guess at that point. As for the being quiet part, that was an entirely new issue. Thomas never gave a damn if I was loud while playing a game before, but suddenly now it was worth slamming my door open without knocking over. I asked him to maybe be a little more polite about the issue when it came up, but I was again sort of just brushed off. Still, it rubbed me the wrong way how suddenly angry he was getting about the issue. Yes, it was my fault, and I got better about it, but what the hell was with the switch-up? Yet, I still just wrote it off. Maybe he had some mental or emotional stuff going on he didn’t want to talk about. I could be patient with him. Sure. But it got worse. A roommate who clearly labels what food is his in the fridge is nothing to be mad about. Still, a few weeks into the year, I did a deep-clean of the refrigerator - one that, to be fair, I had meant to do as soon as I moved in. But, it was too late for that, and now I had to take everything out to scrub it down. Only a few things were his, most of them in the freezer. I took them out, setting them aside to clean it up quickly so nothing went bad. Probably no reason to worry about that, but whatever. Once I was done, I was checking over everything as I put it back in when I noticed something with his name on it had an especially pungent smell. It was awful enough that it made my nose instinctively wrinkle up. I put it back down, hastily shoving everything else back into the fridge before turning to it. Nothing really weird, just a piece of meat in tight saran wrap that looked to be still a little bloody. Frowning, I started unwrapping it to make sure Thomas hadn’t put rotten meat in the freezer. The odor only got more foul as I did. It was a smell difficult to describe; though it was what I was worried about, it didn’t smell like rotting meat. It just smelled like death. Before I actually unwrapped the whole thing - it had a LOT of layers, something I only questioned after the fact - Thomas came home and stopped dead in the doorway. “Why are you touching my shit?” He stormed over after a second, snatching the meat off the table and immediately starting to re-wrap it. His hands were shaking. “It smells disgusting, man,” I told him, stepping back a little. “I wanted to check it wasn’t rotten.” “It’s not. I’m on a diet,” He snapped. “Don’t take my food.” “I wasn’t taking it!” I hissed back. “Don’t touch it!” Thomas stuffed the meat back into the freezer at that, then swiftly retreated to his room - barely opening the door and sliding through. Leaving me to scrub my hands of that horrible stench. It was then that I really got suspicious of Thomas. The other weird things layered onto that incident that made me start observing him closer. I wasn’t trying to stalk my roommate by any means, but looking past the surface made me notice some more things. How half the creaking boards were in front of his room, how he always slipped into his room like he was hiding something in there, that most of his labeled food had that same disgusting odor of death when I checked. Well, sniff tested them. After the first time I was a little scared to unwrap another one. Maybe it was stupid, but I’d read online somewhere that a reason for creaking floorboards could be that they had recently been lifted up. So another little investigation started, this one intentional. When Thomas left for class I started checking under the boards - and it wasn’t long before I turned up something. A handsaw. Off-putting thing to be hidden under my feet, to say the least. It looked pretty well-worn. Clean, but used. Aside from the saw, lifting the board let me see a mysterious reddish brown blotch stained into the underside of it. That was enough for me to put the board back and stop thinking about it for now. At least, until I could come up with a plan. I had a film major buddy, and I managed to convince him to let me use an old video camera of his for science. I hid it in a plant, and aimed it at the door to Thomas’s bedroom at leg level. Set up to stay at said friend’s for the night, and then let it play out. In hindsight, a mediocre video camera was a really shitty pick for this, but it did the job enough. I didn’t get a live feed or anything, and I was left to wallow in anxiety the whole night, but when I got back while Thomas was out the next day I could dig the camera out and watch what it showed me. After charging it, anyway. It caught eight hours of footage before dying. Most of it was nothing, which I sped through until Thomas was suddenly pulling up the floorboard. I jumped back and let the video play. Thomas walked into frame, emotionlessly kneeling down and yanking the floorboard up. Pulling the handsaw out and putting it down again. He walked into his room, seemingly stowing it away, then left again for another hour or so. When he came back, there was a woman our age with him. They were talking quietly enough that the video camera didn’t pick up the words, but I could make a guess what it was about. They disappeared into his bedroom, the lock clicking loudly. It remained quiet for another moment, before the worst, most horribly unsurprising sound met my ears. A woman’s scream being cut short. I could barely watch the next two hours of footage, all that remained before the camera died. But I did. I sat there in horror watching Thomas’s legs walk between his bedroom, the kitchen, and the door over and over again. Bringing things. Wrapping up pieces of meat. At one point near the end, stopping to sit at the table and eat something. I could only guess what. I think typing this out has helped me process it a little, but Thomas is going to be home from his class soon. I’m kind of terrified to leave the room when he’s here. I’m worried he knows that I’ve got him figured out, or at least under enough suspicion to warrant police involvement. I can’t confront him. That’s a horrible idea. But I think I hear his keys jingling, so I’m going to have to pass him if I want to go to the cops. Wish me luck. If there’s no update, well, you know what happened to me. submitted by /u/0anonymousv to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

AITA? My wife’s 20 year old son still lives with us & asked her to swap his small bedroom for our master bedroom which is twice the size of his now former bedroom (he pays nothing towards rent or utilities) The gain for him is that his computer setup up instead of being in the third unused bedroom is in his bedroom with his dorm size refrigerator. The gain for us nothing. I didn’t want to sound like an ogert so I said I would consider it if we made scaled drawings to see if it could work. Weeks later I realized I was way too uncomfortable with the idea & told my wife I changed my mind to no Bedroom swap. Weeks later she had a Monday legal holiday off, & so did her son. The day before the holiday we go to breakfast & also drive 1.5 hours away (just the two of us) to visit one of my vendors to transact a deal. I take her to dinner at a quite local restaurant that is at least another hour of alone time. What will you do with your day off tomorrow I ask. “Oh we will find something to do.” Late at work I get a text, be sure to call me before you get home. After work I call to hear: “I wanted you to know she says sheepishly “I moved your books to the third bedroom”. What about your son’s computer won’t he find that cumbersome? Oh i moved his computer too, but into our bedroom. What? Where is our bed, oh in my son’s old bedroom, I swapped out bedrooms while you were at work. I went ballistic & days later she admitted she knew for days what she would be doing on Monday. She eventually apologized, & said she knew it was wrong to do that behind my back. But it was only for two years until he launched himself. I almost left her over this. 10 months later the swap has been an unmitigated disaster for me. I gave her plenty of warning & took a weekend for myself & wrote out my feelings, & diagramed out the dynamics. I realized that every parent has to put their child’s safety over their partners wishes. But after that healthy marriages put their partners, & also the marriage above the wishes of their children. I came home from the weekend & told her that. I reminded her that I have helped her son financially, took him to games, gave him my used car (his first) when I upgraded. I also told her his current bedroom situation was completely appropriate when he had his own place. But it was completely inappropriate at the expense of her husband’s comfort & that she had to make a choice. Either explain to him (as I am certain he knows) my /our bedroom was stolen behind my back & the current one for us is not working for me as I have to be a contortionist to use even part of the too narrow closet & there is not enough room for my tings. Or it’s time I accept where I am in the pecking order, & I don’t do second place & end this marriage. AITA?? submitted by /u/Due_Fail_9665 to r/AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

My college roommate (we'll call him Steve) has type 1 diabetes. Last week, we had the opportunity to purchase a used mini-fridge for our room at a dorm sale. I asked if he would be down to pitch in for one we could share, and he politely declined. I still wanted access to my own fridge in the room, so I ordered a personal 12-can refrigerator. When it arrived, Steve asked if he could store his insulin inside the fridge. Wanting to be a good roommate, I obliged. Little did I know, his insulin would take up 25% of the space in my tiny desktop refrigerator that I paid for! He did not want a bigger mini-fridge when we had the chance to purchase one, but now that I have my own, he wants to use it. WIBTA if I ask him to remove his insulin? Keep in mind, there is a full-sized refrigerator in the basement that everyone has access to, and I assume thats where he stored his insulin previously. EDIT: The mini-fridge we had the option to purchase would have had a 75 liter capacity. My personal fridge has a mere 10 liter capacity. submitted by /u/AdministrativeEssay9 to r/AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

If you see Gwasuwon ramen noodles, throw it away and call FBI immediately. I don’t know if you’ve seen the recall alerts on TV. It looks like a public health alert, but it’s not. If you call in to inform them, it’s not the FDA people who will come down, but the police and emergency services. I know because I was there when the first breakout occurred. Michigan was ground zero. They came down with police trucks, biohazard suits and ambulances. First, they took the students away. Then the FBI got involved. And they took Jenny and all her boxes away too. Or was it the other way round? I am not sure. My memory is fuzzy these days. I have to write it down before I go aw — before I forget. But I am getting ahead of myself. I’m an undergraduate student in Michigan. I stay on campus at school and I have — had a roommate called Jenny. She majored in architecture and she was an instant noodles fanatic. And when I say fanatic, I really mean fanatic. She ate only ramen. She’ll have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper. I never saw her eat anything else. She might add an egg or some frozen peas and carrots. But that’s about it. But that doesn’t mean she shies away from experimenting with her food. Once I saw her pour boiling hot coffee into her cup noodles. Another time, I walked in on her making beer ramen. (She offered me a large cold glass. I gave it a pass.) And then there was the episode where she tried to bake ramen cake in the hall kitchen, and I had to help her put out the flames when the batter caught fire. Otherwise, she was just a normal girl who likes anime, big spectacles and funk music. We became fast friends in residence hall and we had crazy times together. She had a YouTube channel where she does ramen reviews. She would live stream the entire review process. She would do a show-and-tell of the ramen package and open it up. She would cook the noodles in it, eat it, critique it and rate it, all on live video. It was quite a popular channel. People all over the world would mail her their country’s instant noodles for her to review. Bacon ramen from UK. Cheese curry cup noodles from Japan. Borscht packet noodles from Poland. Purple wheat noodles from Singapore. I even saw a cup of soft shelled turtle soup noodles on her table once. You name any instant noodle flavour or brand, she would probably have tasted it at least once already. Sometimes, ramen companies would send her cartons of instant noodles. Her side of the room was always full of cardboard boxes of ramen. She would gift them to her YouTube fans or give the noodles away for free to her schoolmates or the hall residents. Her classmates and hall mates love her. Jenny was patient zero. I remember how it started. It was on a Tuesday at the beginning of the semester. I remember because it was the first day of my entomology class and I was fussing about having the right lecture notes printed that morning. I noticed a carton box by her bed that was marked with Korean words. The cardboard was already cut open, revealing packets of ramen inside it. Usually, I wouldn’t have paid it any attention. But the noodle packets in this box caught my eye. Ramen packets were usually bright and colourful with pictures of steaming bowls of noodles, mushroom, chicken or whatever flavour they were about. But the noodle packets in this box carton were just plain white with some black print on it. Curious, I fished out a packet to take a closer look. There was just a black, bold Korean title on a white background, and the word “Gwasuwon” in smaller print under the Korean characters. I looked up. Jenny was already slurping up noodles in front of her laptop, blasting some YouTube music video at her desk. “Keep it down,” I said. “Natalie is going to complain to the resident assistant again.” Jenny made a face at me, but she did turn the volume down a little. “Smells good,” I said. The noodles smelt spicy and tangy like kimchi. “Came in this morning,” she said, waving her chopsticks languidly at the box I was looking at. “Some new company I never heard of.” “Weird packaging.” I flipped the white crinkly packet around in my hand. “No list of ingredients and all that.” “Mmmm. It’s one of those minimalist concepts, like Muji.” She turned around, holding out the bowl in her hand. “Hey, this is really good. You wanna try some?” Now I love spicy food. And I’m always game for anything with hot sauce, kimchi, wasabi and the like. But something about the smell put me off. A sort of cold, refrigerated smell underneath the spicy scent. It was very faint, but I could smell it. I was surprised Jenny didn’t mind it. “Nah,” I said, waving my entomology lecture notes ruefully. “Heading out for lunch.” “Enjoy the fruit flies!” she grinned. I threw one of my soft toys at her before walking out. I didn’t think too much of it. But I did notice that Jenny was having Gwasuwon noodles more often than the other brands. I kept smelling it in our room. And always present was that faint, undefinable, freezer odour underneath the spicy tang of the noodles. Soon, the smell permeated the other floors of our residence hall too. I was in the hall pantry when I caught a whiff of it again. I turned around to see Mike removing his bowl from the microwave with a towel. “You’re eating this too?” I asked, curious. “Did you get it from Jenny?” “No. Got it from super mart,” he said as he placed the steaming bowl carefully onto a plate. “Jenny gave me a pack earlier on. It was so lip smacking good that I went to the mart to get more.” And he was right. They were on sale at the campus mart. I watched the man in front of me unload armfuls of the noodles onto the cashier counter. “That good eh?” I said to the cashier as I eyed the man walking off with his bags of ramen. The cashier laughed. “They are flying off the shelves. We can’t stock them fast enough.” She scanned my drink can with a beep. “I tried some myself. They are really tasty.” The rest of the semester passed rather uneventfully. The only thing that was even remotely notable was the flu bug going around the campus. It was so bad that the lecture theatres were half-filled because so many students were ill. Jenny was sick as well. She had been feeling under the weather for a couple of weeks now. I checked in on her before I went to class. She was looking a little puffy around the face. The curtains in our room were drawn. The light hurts her eyes, she said. She muttered something about her YouTube live stream. I told her to give it a rest. Her fans will understand. When I closed the door behind me, Jenny was fast asleep under the covers. I could barely make out her form underneath the blankets in the darkness of the room. I think it was the last time I saw the real Jenny. Natalie was in the corridor when I walked towards the hall’s lift lobby. She gave me a dour face as she entered her dorm room next to ours. I ignored her. We got a break from her complaints this week because Jenny had stopped playing her loud videos. Class was barely half full today. A lot of the students called in sick. The professor looked resigned as she began her lecture. Which was a shame, because the class was interesting. It was a continuation of last week’s lecture about fungal infection in ants. Zooommbie ants, Jenny would have said if she had been well enough to listen to me yak about it. On the bus back to my hall, I took out my mobile to watch a few videos on YouTube. I saw on the app notifications that Jenny was live streaming. I felt a faint twinge of annoyance. I had told her to rest. I tapped on her channel video just to see what she was up to. My mobile screen went dark for a moment. Then Jenny’s face appeared. She looked like she had just woken up. Her hair was a mess. But she wasn’t moving or talking. She was just staring fixedly into the camera, her mouth slightly ajar. Her face was so close to the camera that I could see her cracked lips. The video live chat was already abuzz with comments. wat’s wrong wif her??? OMG she’s drooling gross does anybdy knw where she lives? she needs help!! where’s my nooodles 20 min already and cou nting watever she’s having I want some too lololol I called Jenny immediately. She didn’t pick up my call. I dashed off the bus when it stopped at my hall. Something was wrong with Jenny. I hammered the elevator button with my hand. The lift was taking too long. I bounded up the stairs instead, my backpack bouncing on my back. I rushed to our room and flung the door open, out of breath. Jenny was sitting in the dark, hunched before the laptop. She didn’t even react to my sudden appearance. She was just sitting there, very still. “Jenny?” I said, huffing. I strode in, leaving the dorm door wide open behind me. On hindsight, that action probably saved my life. I reached out a hand to touch her. But something made me pause. Jenny’s hair was falling over her shoulder and I couldn’t see her face. “What are you doing?” I asked tentatively, slinging my backpack down. She didn’t reply. “Jenny?” I said again, my voice louder. She stirred. The light from the door fell on her hair, and it was then I noticed it. Her hair hadn’t been combed and it was a tangled mess around her face. But I could see that there was something on her head. It was a little black stump sticking out from the matted hair on her head. It looked like a stalk. Jenny began to turn around slowly. Her face was pale and drawn, and she was drooling. But it was her eyes that froze me. I will never forget the look in her eyes as our eyes met. But I didn’t have time to think, because the next moment, Jenny was lunging at me, her mouth wide open in a snarl and her hands outstretched in claws towards my face. I screamed and threw my bag up in front of me. She dove into me, slamming both of us into the wall. The only thing keeping her teeth from me was my backpack. Her eyes were bloodshot and wild above my bag. And her fingernails were scrabbling at me, scratching my face. I screamed again. “Jenny! Jenny! What’s wrong with you?!! Jenny!!!” I heard Natalie’s furious voice at the door. “Look! I told you to keep it dow — ” Natalie never had a chance. Jenny turned and threw herself at the stunned girl standing in the doorway, sinking her teeth into Natalie’s shoulder. Both of them toppled into the corridor. I don’t quite remember what happened next. It was all a blur. There was blood all down the front of Natalie’s blouse. She was shrieking in terror, beating at Jenny with her fists. And I was desperately yelling and pulling on Jenny’s neck and shoulders, trying to get her to release Natalie. But she wouldn’t let go. It was as if she had a ferocious death grip on the Natalie’s body. And all this time, I was staring madly at the stalk at the top of her head. It was thick and dark, with a little bulb at the end. It looked like some sort of deformed mushroom sprouting out of Jenny’s hair. The campus security arrived within minutes, but it felt like forever before someone dragged me away from Jenny. They managed to pry Jenny apart from Natalie, but not before a good part of Natalie’s shoulder came with her. I heard the ambulance siren blaring away downstairs. Natalie was already unconscious by then. There was blood all over the corridor. It was horrific. I don’t know how much time passed as I stood there in shock, watching the paramedics and security officers rush around me. I heard a sudden burst of static. I turned around and stared at a security officer some distance away as his walkie-talkie chattered into life. He listened to it for a moment, jerked up straight and disappeared hurriedly down the corridor. It was a little far, but I overheard the message clearly. There had been another incident. I went back into my room amid the noise and turmoil. I sat down. My hands were trembling. I was trying to think. The stalk on Jenny’s head. The biting. I shivered and clasped my arms around me. There was something gritty on my hands. I looked down at my arms. They were covered with some sort of dark dust. I jumped up and frantically tried to brush it off. A light caught my eye. Jenny’s laptop. The camera light was was still on. Her computer had been streaming live video all this time. Whoever was watching her video stream could see me. I walked over and slammed down the cover of the laptop. I don’t know how much time I still have. I went into emergency mode. I grabbed whatever I needed. My wallet. My driver’s license. Cash. Some clothes. My lecture notes. I stuffed it all into my backpack. My eye fell on the cardboard box by Jenny’s bed. There were some packets in it. I don’t know why I did it. But I grabbed a packet of the Gwasuwon noodles and stuffed it into my bag. I was out of the door in less than five minutes. I hit the elevator button at the lift lobby. The lift floor indicators on the wall lit up slowly one by one as the elevator came up. One, two, three, four. I couldn’t wait. I turned and took the stairs. I was two floors down before I realised I had forgotten my passport. It was in my wardrobe. I headed back up the stairs. I was going to push open the staircase door to the corridor when I saw through the door glass panel that the floor was full of people. Not students. Or campus security. Men in dark jackets talking into their walkie talkies. Some had gloves on and they were holding large plastic bags. I could see my dorm door from where I stood. Some of the men were entering my room. The words “FBI” were emblazoned on the back of their jackets. The loudspeaker came on. It was the dean’s voice. The campus was in lockdown mode. Everyone was to stay in their rooms. I took off for the carpark where my car was. It was chaos at the ground floor. There were ambulances and police trucks at the entrance. People in biohazard suits were ushering students out, some of them in wheelchairs. The students looked pale and listless. I saw one of them being carried out on a stretcher. His head was turned to the side. There was a black bump on top of his blonde head. I backed away. Nobody paid any attention to me in the chaos as I unlocked my car and tossed my backpack in. I was sweating heavily by then. I can make it, I can make it, I muttered to myself as I slid into the car seat. “Hey, you can’t leave.” I looked up. It was the campus security guard. His hand was on my open car door. “I need to go,” I muttered. “I have to go.” But he wasn’t listening to me. His other hand was moving to his walkie-talkie. “You should go too,” I said abruptly. Loudly. He stopped and gazed down at me, surprised. “What?” “Half of them are sick,” I said. I think my voice shook a little. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “You should go now.” He stared down at me. Something flickered in his face. Uncertainty. Fear. He knew. He knew what I was talking about. He hesitated, his walkie talkie paused in mid-air. I took the chance. I started the ignition and stepped on the accelerator. He jumped away in surprise. His hand fell away from my door. I slammed the door shut as I drove out of the parking lot. I looked in the rear mirror as I sped out of the carpark. He was just standing there with the walkie-talkie in his hand, looking after me. I drove for ten hours to my aunt’s place in Kansas. I kept the radio on, listening for any news about the school. There was nothing. Zilch. Nothing on the air about any incident or epidemic in the campus I left behind. During meal breaks, I stopped at gas stations and chewed on burritos in my car while I feverishly flipped through the lecture notes in my bag. The stalk. I had seen it before. It was on the projector screen in the lecture hall. “The Ophiocordyceps fungus infiltrates the ant’s body and head, but leaves the brain relatively untouched. The neurons in the ant’s body begin to die and the fungal cells insert themselves in their place. This is effectively a hostile takeover of the ant body. In the place of the neurons, the fungus releases chemicals that contract and expand the muscles of the ant. It is important to note that the brain is not infected by the fungus. It is speculated that the ant brain is still aware and is a prisoner in its own body as it watches the fungus manipulate its limbs…” I stopped reading. I remembered Jenny’s eyes. The way she looked at me as she lunged towards me. I opened the car door and vomited everything I ate onto the side of the road. There was a creek next to the road. I threw out the backpack into the water before I drove away. I have no idea why I did that. My wallet and everything else I had was inside that bag. That was two weeks ago. My aunt let me stay at her place. I told her that it was semester break. My parents were in Florida. It was far enough. Or so I tell myself. I scoured the news everyday. There was just a brief news flash about a mass food poisoning in my school. I gripped my fists. They are not telling the truth about what happened in the campus. Then I saw the product recall alerts. The word “Gwasuwon” flashed on the television screen. I felt my blood chill. It was contained, I keep telling myself. The government will take care of it. I tried not to think about it. But yesterday I saw something that changed my mind. That was what prompted me to write this down to warn you. I was taking out the trash yesterday when I saw the bird. It landed on the fence a few feet away from me. It had a stalk on its head. Just like Jenny. It flew away when I threw a rock at it. I watched it squawk and wheel away in the air to join the other birds in the sky. I walked back into the house. The news was on. Something about rats biting each other. I switched off the TV and drew the curtains. I sat down on the couch and started shaking. It was supposed to be safe. Kansas was supposed to be safe. The FBI and the police took care of it. They took away all of Jenny’s boxes, didn’t they? I have so many questions. Is it contagious? A virus? Some sort of parasite? Can it spread by proximity? What if it gets into the food chain? Where can we be safe from it? And why is the FBI involved? I don’t know. I have no answers. I only know that the world is going crazy. And that I am not feeling myself these days. I am tired. My face looks a little puffy. The light hurts my eyes. I am going to lie down now. But I have one piece of advice for you. If you see Gwasuwon ramen noodles, throw it away and call FBI immediately. Just throw it away. submitted by /u/MissCreepyStories to r/nosleep [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/rocketman0739 to r/DiWHY [link] [comments]