Calgarians are hard-pressed to say anything negative about their city. For instance: prior to moving here, I was led to believe it never, ever rained in Calgary. Bri Monster, bless her big heart, was chiefly responsible for propogating that myth…and it is a myth, because in the last week it’s rained more-or-less non-stop every single day. This weekend, I was under de facto house arrest: it was simply too miserable to set foot outside. Naturally, everyone has an acute case of the rainy day glums…which is ironic, since I was led to believe it never, ever rained here to begin with.
In related news: firstly, my surrogate mother disappeared for almost a week–then returned WITH A MAN IN TOW (I have no idea who he was, although the thought of her gettin’ some makes me vomit a little in my own mouth). Secondly, Charging Chub and his entourage have disappeared; I honestly haven’t seen any of them in months, and I’ve got no idea where they’ve gone (their own house, perhaps?). Thirdly, the lawn outside my illegal basement suite (for which I am not responsible, by the way) has yet to be mowed or weeded, and as such is beginning to resemble a tropical rainforest–only if tropical rainforests grew dandelions. I’m assuming the Deadbeat should be taking care of his actual mother’s lawn; alas, he’s probably too “busy with life” to bother. Basically, it’s becoming embarassing for me to walk into my own house. I managed to finagle a extension on my lease, but I’ll be out of here by September 1. And no, I won’t be moving back to Toronto yet–despite some people’s best efforts at forcing my hand. Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like it here–even if I’m currently being detained in a lunatic asylum because it’s too wet to leave.