2003-02-24 at 9:36 p.m.

I have a new flatmate.

She's taken the room that was previously occupied by Ivan (The Terrible), and Natalie and I are pretty sure we'll be in no danger of receiving of sex-related requests from her.

The thing is... well, it's a little eerie.

She showed up at the door last Monday to inspect the house.

"Hi" she said. "My name's Michelle".

"Hi. By an odd coincidence, my name is also Michelle. Come in."

So she took a look through the house. As I showed her around, she asked if I was originally from around here.

"Well, I've lived here for four years", I said, "but I grew up in Bathurst".

"No shit! I grew up in Bathurst too!"

(Please note- we had never seen each other before the moment I opened the door. Are we all clear on this? Good).

She moved in on Friday, and since then, we've been doing the ol' 'introduce oneself to the person you'll be cohabitating with for an unspecified amount of time'.

We were discussing our respective childhoods, (something I'm usually not inclined to do without the presence of My Analyst�) and I mentioned that my parents were in the habit of giving their unfortunate offspring really crap middle names.

"Why? What's yours?" Michelle (the other one) asked.

"Kay. Well, it's not that bad, but..."

"Oh, my God. You will never guess what my middle name is."

"What?"

"Gay".

So, our house has both a Michelle Kay and a Michelle Gay (and I am extremely glad to have the former name, to be quite honest). These similar names are sure to cause some rather French Farce-esque moments around the house, I'm sure.

"Hi, could I speak to Michelle, please?"

"Which one?"

"The one from Bathurst".

"Uh... you'll have to be a bit more specific than that".

"Okay... her middle name is Gay".

"Did you just say 'Kay' or 'Gay'?"

"Gay".

"Gay?"

"Yes!"

"Ok. I'll see if she's home".