Queen Bee

Queen Bee

I can't stand her. I tolerated her all of last semester, but it has gotten to the point where I wouldn't really regret punching her right in her stupid ugly face. Her family has quite a bit of money, since they can send her here, and her older brother, and she can pay for upkeep and lessons with her horse. Yet she complains about stupid little things with her parents. I can't believe at times that she has a boyfriend, and when I do believe it, I actually feel sorry for him. She fits right in with the sorority snobs.

Lately she's been getting worse. And it can no longer be blamed on stress. It's just the way that she acts toward me. I've noticed that she treats me differently than the rest of my roommates. For example, she'll include them or ask them to do things with her. She has never made a move like that toward me. I've tried more than once to be nice to her.

A few weeks ago, she was going out to a party on the weekend and I offered to lend her one of my outfits because I knew I wouldn't wear it at the time (way too cold) and I wasn't going out. It looked okay on her, but I definitely fill it out in nicer places, if you get my drift. There was another time she borrowed a red lipstick of mine. She looked dumb. But I didn't say anything. Point is, I don't feel like ever using these things again because her slimy, bratty self was all over them.



The event that really put me over was last week. As I mentioned in another post, our heaters have been broken, and maintenance had come to try and fix them. Lucky me, my stuff was in front of the heater with the controls in them, so I had to be displaced and move all my belongings to the middle of the room. Now understand, there's not much room there to begin with, and I hated inconveniencing everyone else in the room. It was stressful for me, but there wasn't much I could do.

It took them two days to "fix" it, which we still aren't sure if it's fixed or not, but they put the radiator back on and I could move my things back. I had just gotten in from being downtown, and saw they moved my dresser back. As I began to lift the first box to begin moving back into my corner, Queen Bee comments quite bitchingly about how I need to move my shit because it's in everyone's way. I immediately looked at her and told her to her face that she didn't have to be a bitch about it. She pulled out the "Excuse Me?" line, like I would back down, and if I remember correctly, I repeated what I said. She was very offended. Good. I continued putting my stuff back into my area quietly, but inside I brimming with victory. That's probably one of the few times anyone has ever stood up to her in her life, and she had no idea how to handle it. Sorry little princess, but you're not back home. I'm not your servant.

Continuing with the story, housing had given us space heaters to make up for the broken heaters, and suggested we put them on opposite sides of the room near our beds. There's not much space between one bed and another, so on my side there's my dresser, the fridge, and Spicy's bins for some of her stuff. Queen Bee makes a statement about how I should try to fit the space heater by me, and I tell her that I have no room. Which, seriously, there is no room to fit a bulky space heater over here. If it was Tetris, I'd lose immediately. She then has the audacity to comment on how I have my dresser out from under my bed, and that nobody else has it like that. Excuse me? She must have forgotten I live here, and that there's other people in here that has stuff out from under their bed. Like I mentioned, she has never treated me like the others.



The real slap to my face is that days later, while I'm out, she texts me saying she couldn't find me (no kidding dumbass, I'm clearly not in the room) and that she borrowed my nail polish and hoped that was okay. I have been pondering what would happen if I had said that it was certainly not okay to borrow my stuff. Or even to go near my stuff. I must have forgotten to take down the "Feel Free to Take My Stuff and Use it Without Asking Me First" sign before I left. Go buy your own damn nail polish. Or borrow someone else's.

That's been a recurring theme with her. Be a little bitchy or snippety, then try to be nice or ask to use something of mine. I'm done dealing with her. I'm waiting for the next time she pulls that crap on me. The best part is that my mom is totally on my side against her. After the aforementioned incident, I called my mom to blow off steam, and she said, I quote, "You tell her that she may have been the princess back in (state name), but she's not the princess over here."

This means war.