Saturday, January 2, 2010

New Years Resolutions and Cockroaches

I don't get excited about the kiss at midnight on New Years Eve. I don't get excited about drinking champagne or the count down at midnight. I get excited about writing my New Years resolutions! I love writing lists and setting goals cause I'm, what you might call, a closet OCD nerdlinger. I start thinking about my resolutions before I start thinking about writing Christmas cards. I secretly jot them down in my day planner whenever they pop into my head and by the time January 1st has rolled around I have written, re-written and edited them a thousand times over.

2010's biggest resolution is this blog... yes, the one you are reading right now. My inspirations for this resolution are my boyfriend Scott and my friend Mel. Scott started encouraging me to write a blog about a year ago when I would get so frustrated at NOT being able to find a writing gig that I would cry and lash out at him... probably not healthy for our relationship. And Mel always tells me that I should have my own one woman show after I'm done telling her about the odd, the mundane and the down right ridiculous moments that make up my small life. So, in honour of Mel, I have entitled this blog, in honour of Scott, My One Woman Show... an account of my misadventures as a young woman living in the big T.O. Sounds cliche, but it's my life.

My first misadventure of the year happened last night when Scott and I got home from a dinner with friends. We were both feeling a little buzzed from the drinks and the medicinal marijuana as we stumbled into our apartment, our nice, cozy, clean apartment that I haven't had a problem with... until now. We both agreed that going to bed would waste our buzz, so we decided to watch infomercials instead. As Scott set to the task of finding the perfect late night infomercial I went to the bathroom, flicked on the light and then jumped back when what I thought was a bit of lint moved across my bath mat. Now, being under the influence I thought the drugs were just affecting my eyes... lint jumping and scurrying about "*phst* it's just the weed," I thought. But as I stepped closer to inspect the moving lint it ran away from me! I have never in my life had fibers run from me, so I stepped back thinking I had scared it, which I apparently had because once I gave it some space it scurried back into the middle of the room. Now I was totally enthralled by this lint and it's ability to move and it's concern for it's personal space. "This must be a very conscious bit of fiber," I thought as I bent down to take a closer look. That's when the screaming started, because I wasn't looking at a highly developed bit of lint, oh no, I was looking at a baby cockroach! That most familiar creature to all Torontonians, the cockroach, although harmless, is completely disgusting and scary! These little buggers can live without their heads for god's sake! Scott, hearing my screams, came to the rescue and flushed the offending cockroach disguised as lint down the toilet. He then made a thorough search of our apartment finding no other bugs. It doesn't matter now, I have lived in this apartment for five blissful months thinking I was safe, and now every corner, every ledge has been turned into a possible hiding place for deceased baby roaches friends. The apartment is a battle ground and these creatures are my enemies. I sleep with one eye open from now on.

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