lost in frustration

So I have now lived with my roommates for over two weeks. Still only the faintest chance that they might think I'm cool. In class and in everyday conversation, my Spanish is getting quite good and my confidence is perking up like a proud robin; yet as soon as I step into my flat I feel like a 1st grader tripping over basic grammar left and right. Here's a glimpse at the image I've created of myself so far with my highly prideful Catalunyan roomies who already don't like speaking Castellano (the closest equivalent to central American Spanish):

1. When I first moved in, my roommates made me a lovely seafood dinner to welcome me to their home. The first thing I said was, "Estoy muy excitada para vivir aqui," which literally translates to, "I am very horny to be living here." Hopefully they don't think I'm a sex maniac.
2. I share a bathroom with a dude named Josep. Last week I walked in on him taking a shit in the dark with the door open - a completely unacceptable act in my opinion - to which I responded out of nervousness, "¡Mi casa es su casa!" This phrase makes absolutely no sense in this situation, in addition to it actually being his house in the first place. I'm psycho.
3. I ordered a large bed from Ikea to replace the prison brick they had provided me in my room thinking I was dextrous enough to assemble it myself. The instructions were part Spanish, part Dutch, part Michelin Man figurine, so I sucked my roommate Marc in to helping me and it took 2 hours to put together. Now I sleep on a Fjellse bed frame with a Florvag mattress. Of course Amanda and I realized right away why it might be funny that my mattress is called a FloorVag. We laughed for 3 days straight about it. But when I tried to explain to Marc why it was hilarious that I would be sleeping on a FloorVagina, I tripped up on my words, of course, and I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a bonafide lesbian.

Pictures to come, wish me luck...