First off, thanks to everyone for the outpouring of love and support and commiseration and high-fives and slaps on the back and "Hell yeahs" and Hail Maries--I think I just took that too far. But seriously, I got so much great advice and many concerned messages and emails and comments regarding my well-being while I spent the last week inhaling natural gas. The lesson of the week is this: even if your landlord doesn't believe you, if you bring it up enough and make it clear that you're not happy about the situation, you will get your way. On Thursday I had him come and check everything out, and he didn't smell anything until after about ten minutes of looking at everything. After an hour of bantering and explaining that I was smelling the carbon dioxide output, he finally realized that, whoah, I really was smelling natural gas.

My favorite part of the conversation was when he told me he likes me and doesn't want to lose me as a tenant, and suggested that we go over the weekend and get a new oven. See that, former roommate bitch? Most people do like me.

So it's out with the old...

And in with the new!

Well, it's not new new. We got this at a refurbished appliance store in the area, for something like $200. But it's new to me, and I've already cooked on it and everything. The best part is that it's self-ignited, so no pilots need to be lit all the time, and therefore the flow of gas is stopped unless I'm cooking. It's HEAVEN.

And the other good news? The heater is fully turned off, effectively stopping the remaining gas flow into the house. It's wonderfully refreshing and I'm all kinds of happy about this right now.

Oh, and one more thing. We bought the oven, then loaded and brought home the wrong one. We didn't notice until I looked at it right before we were about to bring it inside, and I was all "Wait, we pointed to the Whirlpool when we decided which one we wanted, and this one is General Electric." Oops. Oh well, second time was the charm.