All of the above

Do I sound ignorant, shallow or just plain honest when I say that I'm so ridiculously bored of the recession? Seriously. Talking about the recession is about as interesting as talking about the weather. It's something we all have in common, but unless you're an economist or have some sort of expertise (like, suppose you work for the Canadian Mint), I highly doubt you have anything new and insightful to add to the dialogue.

And if we're talking about it without getting the juicy details about a much-hated or admired former classmate's layoff, chances are, we probably have nothing better to talk about.

Gawd. The recession is just so boring. (There, I said it. Can we go back to talking about how winter is cold now?)

With that being said, pictures of margaritas and mariachi bands are in order:

Two's Company

1. Adam, Cold Lake, December 2001-June 2002
2. Andrew, Edmonton, September 2002-March 2003
3. Sara, Edmonton, September 2002-??
3. Jessica, Edmonton, September 2003-December 2003
4. Courtney, Toronto, September 2005-April 2006
5. Sasha, Toronto, September 2005-January 2007
6. Brie, Toronto, September 2005-April 2007
7. Katrina, Toronto, September 2005-April 2007
8. Ivonne , Toronto, September 2006-April 2007
9. Karen, Toronto, May 2006-April 2007
10. Natty, Toronto, September 2007-February 2009
11. Brooke, Toronto, September 2007-October 2008, June 2008-August 2008
12. Alex, Toronto, January 2008-March 2008
13. Nadine, Toronto, August 2008
14. Steve, Toronto, September 2008-December 2008

Whoa. I've had a lot of roommates. (And I feel like I'm forgetting some. Like, what about Helka? We backpacked together from April until June 2003. And Jo? We lived together in Vanuatu and then Australia from June until August 2006.)


Did I mention that the latest roommate is a guy? It will be the first time in seven years that I've lived with a guy who isn't my brother or a significant other. I didn't think it would be really that different, but I'm already seeing the signs. Evidence? These are my shelves in the bathroom.

His shelf in the bathroom.

True story.

"Hola girlie. You want to fly like a birdie?"

It wasn't waking up to fresh snow on my balcony this morning. It wasn't putting on a scarf or a toque, or even sitting at a desk all day, feeling the ancient heating system sucking my skin dry. No, it was something else altogether--it was the sudden realization that scrunchies may just be making a comeback.

I'm going to Brie's to eat a cupcake now.

I'm pasty.

I feel the need to report on things that have passed, and those that will come to pass, but all I really have to say is this: I'm being whisked off to Mexico for a much-earned vacation for the next week.

It's a strange time, this--this stage between being an adult and being a--I actually don't know what. What does one call the life stage directly before being an adult? You know the one?

I mean, it's strange being at this place in my life where I can only afford to buy groceries on a monthly basis--and yet, when asked if I'd like to go on my second tropical beach vacation of the year, I can't help but say yes. And although I may have been eating grains for the last two months (very reminiscent of my Vanuatu diet), I can still afford to shell out $40 for a new bikini at Winners.

Yes, it's rough times at the ranch, indeed.

We've made it.

Despite my love of all things glossy and monthly (I did major in magazine journalism, after all) fashion magazines aren't often high on my list, with shopping magazines ranking even lower. But just this once, Glow Magazine did something very, very right:

It's Brie! Page 118. Hot!

On the downside, I think I have fleas. (Or hypochrondria. One of the above.) More specifically, I think my boyfriend's bed has fleas.

(And yet, I don't know what's more alarming about that statement--that I may have contracted fleas from my boyfriend's bed, or the fact that I'm using the phrase "boyfriend" in a very public capacity, when I never even say it to his face.)